Run to Me (14 page)

They all spend hours on the lake, splashing
around and trying to sail or water-ski. Some of them are good, but most suck
beyond belief. Matt got an instructor job one summer a couple of years back,
but I wasn’t interested. I don’t like swimming much, unless it’s super hot.
Anyway, like I said, it’s not fun hanging out with fat tourists all day.

I’m not sure why I’m heading there now, except
that when she mentioned it, it got me thinking. One of those kiddie plays I
did; we performed it in the Resort’s conference room. I don’t know why; guess
they needed the extra space or something. I can’t even remember what the play
was. Some innocent yarn written by Mr Eldon, the self-appointed director, I
guess. But what I do remember is how much fun it was. I think even The Chief
enjoyed himself, if that’s possible.

By the time I reach the Resort, the afternoon
sun is low in the sky, and it makes the surface of the lake flicker. I bounce
along the cobblestoned driveway until I get to the twenty or so wooden huts
that line the bank. The huts are built on stilts, with verandahs right around,
and steps leading directly to the water. I check to see if there are any hot
sunbakers but the place is pretty deserted. I suppose no one really comes here
during autumn.  

I keep cycling, past the tented camping grounds
with its corrugated-iron shower blocks and rows of picnic tables, and on to the
tree-lined parade that runs up to the main clubhouse. I’m hungry again now and
I reckon Reggie might be able to spot me a sandwich or some hot chips. He does
double shifts at the Resort shop during the holidays, probably so he can watch
the half-naked women.

After I dump my bike on the clubhouse verandah,
I head inside. The foyer is seventies-style red carpet with exposed brick walls
and framed photos of smiling people on sail boats, or jet skis. No one is
sitting at the front desk, but somewhere a radio is playing jazz. The shop is
off to the left, with a big glass window overlooking the row of catamarans on
the shoreline. It is full of the usual tourist crap: postcards, tea-towels, Lake Resort stubbie holders, miniature sailboats made out of painted plastic, books and DVDs.
Reggie spots me before I even get through the door.

‘Beckett! What are you doing here?’

He’s got his dopey smile on and his white Resort
shirt makes his hair look fire-engine red. I wave, and wander over to the
counter. He is perched behind it on a stool with an open copy of Playboy lying
in front of him.

‘Busy day at the office, huh?’ I smirk.

‘Too right. It’s dead here, man. I sold one
magnet today. That’s it.’

‘Where is everyone?’

Reggie shrugs. ‘Probably in Queensland, where
it’s still hot.’

‘Mmm.’

‘So what can I do you for?’

‘I’m starving. Got anything to eat?’

He raises his eyebrows and gestures for me to
follow him. We walk past the stacks of Lake Resort memorabilia and into the
staff canteen. The room is pretty bare, except for a small bar fridge, a sink
and a table and chairs. Reggie dives towards the fridge and chucks me a
sandwich wrapped in foil.

‘Egg and lettuce. My Mum’s specialty.’

‘Why didn’t you eat it?’

‘Specialty doesn’t equal good.’

‘Oh. Anything else then?’

‘Nope. That’s it. Take it or leave it.’

He laughs and drags out a chair to flop into. He
positions it so he can still see out into the shop, in case anyone happens to
enter. I sit opposite him and start in on the sandwich. It’s not too bad, just
a little on the bland side.

‘So what’ve you and Matt been up to?’

‘Nothing much. Just hanging. Playing Street
Fighter.’

‘You managed to win a game yet?’

I take a swipe at him but he moves aside just in
time.

‘Whatever,’ I say.

‘So Rachel was here before. We did it right
there, on that chair.’

He points to the chair I’m sitting on and starts
to roar with laughter. I quickly get up and move to another one. Even though
Reggie’s full of shit most of the time, I don’t want to take the risk.

‘She’s a firecracker all right. She does this
thing with her hips, oh boy. It’s like being on a rollercoaster. On speed.’

I groan. Not only because I should have known
Reggie would be carrying on like this, but also because I’m so horny I can
barely stand it.

‘Oh, what? Too much for you? Don’t you want the
glorious details?’ says Reggie.

‘Not right now, man. It’s been too long.’ I
picture myself earlier, at the café, with my hand almost on her leg. Man, why
didn’t I just move a couple of inches to the right? I could have been off with
her right now, instead of listening to Reggie go on.

‘Fine. But I’m telling you, bro. This Rachel
bird is on a whole other level,’ he says.

I nod and we sit in silence while I finish my
sandwich. Reggie is eyeing me as I eat, probably trying to think up another
sex-related yarn. Just to rub it in. In my head I’m at the café again, with my
hand hovering, and my blood rushing downwards. I decide to change the subject,
fast.

 ‘Do you remember when we did that play here?’

He starts to nod. ‘Sure. You had to play the
rugby coach’s daughter as well as the bus driver.’ 

In an instant it all floods back to me. There
wasn’t enough girls to go around so me and some other guy, Joey I think, had to
double up. I got stuck being the coach’s daughter, wearing a blonde wig and
strutting my stuff all over the stage.

‘I’d clean forgotten about that,’ I say, shaking
my head.

‘Ha. Probably blocked it out.’

I  nod. ‘Maybe.’

‘You nailed it. Remember Eldon wanted to give
you some award but the parents thought that was favouritism or some shit. So
you got a special sticker or something.’

I can’t believe it; I’d forgotten all of this.

‘How old were we?’

Reggie shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Seven? Eight?’

‘I don’t remember Matt being here yet, so it
must have been before that.’

‘Who cares. We were pretty young. And you were a
right old gay one, playing that girl. You did better than me as Catherine,
that’s for sure.’

‘Well that wasn’t hard.’

This time it’s Reggie’s turn to swipe at me. He
catches me on the shoulder, and leaves my skin stinging.

‘Oy!’

‘Sorry, mate,’ he says, with no remorse
whatsoever. ‘You were meant to move.’

Ten

After almost three months, the drive to and from
work is done on auto-pilot. I know I’m not concentrating on traffic lights or
give way signs. Sometimes, when I arrive and turn the engine off I have absolutely
no recollection of the previous twenty minutes. I could have run over a small
child and not even battered an eyelid.

I’m not even sure what I think about. Nothing I
suppose. My mind is a blank void. But not for long. As soon as I step from the
car I switch into teacher mode. Like a radio being tuned to the desired
station, I become Mrs Fox, teacher extraordinaire. Or maybe just Mrs Fox,
teacher. Full stop.

Whatever I become, it’s all an act. I know that
much for sure. Mrs Fox knows what she’s doing, can demand respect, and imparts
her wisdom effortlessly. Abby tends to cower behind her, hoping she’ll go
unnoticed but at the same time desperate for some attention.

At least that’s how I feel today.

I lock my car and take the long way to the staff
room. In this state it’s better to avoid the students altogether. One
thoughtless remark by a snot-nosed teenager could have me in tears within
seconds. I hate being so bloody fragile but this unutterable thing has wilted
any semblance of confidence. I just want to sneak past the students and make
myself a coffee. At least my first period is free; so I’ve got an hour to get
it together.

When I push open the staff room door I’m
relieved to see it is empty, bar the one person I don’t mind running into.
Todd.

‘Hey,’ he says, giving me his most generous
smile. ‘What’s up, Ab?’

I let the door slam shut behind me and dump my
bag on the closest chair. The usual coffee-drenched air is tinged with
something else this morning. It’s a powerful scent, one I know is digging its
claws into my clothes where it will remain for the rest of the day, and beyond.
It’s a curry. Yes, lamb korma I think. Great. Now I’m going to smell like I
spent the night in an Indian restaurant.

I approach Todd from behind and glance over his
shoulder at the steaming mound of curry and rice he is devouring out of a
square Tupperware container.

‘Nice breakfast. And stinky as well.’

‘Sorry mate,’ Todd says with his mouth full.
‘Leftovers. Didn’t quite make it ‘til lunch.’ He looks at his watch and shrugs.
‘Didn’t make it ‘til nine AM, in fact.’

We both laugh. I walk over to the sink and fill
the kettle.

‘Coffee?’ I ask, still facing away from him.

‘What’s wrong?’

I look over my shoulder. Todd has stopped
eating, his cutlery resting precariously on the edge of the container. He is
staring at me. I pop the kettle back onto its power base and flick the on
switch. That’s the thing about Todd. We’ve only known each other for a few months
and yet he seems able to read me like a book.

He waits for me while I grab a mug from the
cupboard and spoon some instant coffee into it. I pull a chair out from the
table and plonk myself down next to him. All the while his eyes follow me.

‘I don’t know,’ I say with a shrug. ‘I wouldn’t
worry about me. It’s probably just hormones or something. I’m fine.’

‘You don’t look fine.’

Really?
I think
to myself. I hoped I was pulling off a fairly good impersonation of someone
who’s happy and well adjusted. Guess I failed Acting 101.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask. ‘How do I look?’

‘You look like you’ve got a lemon stuck up your
arse.’

Todd tries to hold it together, but he can’t. He
starts to howl with laughter. I nod my head and giggle as well. Behind me the
kettle boils. I stand up and fill my mug, leaving a couple of centimetres grace
for the milk. But on close inspection of the fridge I realise there is none. I
will have to drink it straight, no other choice. This should do a lot to
heighten my mood.

‘No seriously. You look like you’re in pain or
something. Or somebody has just asked you to strip at their dad’s sixtieth
birthday party.’

‘Good insight,’ I say. ‘Actually I am feeling a
bit fearful. Of what I don’t know.’

I listen to the words tumbling out of me and
wonder when it became so easy to lie.

‘Got an important test today? Need to impress
the in-laws at a family dinner?’ Todd asks with a smirk.

I smile too. I appreciate his attempts at
perking me up, but it is doing little to alleviate my fear.

‘Who knows. I’ll be all right.’ I nod and take a
big slurp of the strong, dark coffee. It tastes bitter, but it gives my insides
an instant shake up. I can almost feel the caffeine invading my cells like a
hostile takeover. At this rate, I’ll be dancing on the ceiling come second
period. ‘Let’s talk about something else. What’s new with you?’

Taking my not-so-subtle hint to drop it, Todd
picks up his fork and gets back to his smelly curry. ‘I’m OK’ he says, dishing
a load into his mouth. ‘Got an important game with the boys coming up this
weekend. And looks like Meredith will be popping the little one out in a few
weeks.’

‘Really? Is that early?’

‘Yeah. Everything’s OK. But they want to induce
her.’

‘OK. Well I’m looking forward to meeting this
mini-Todd. Or mini-Meredith.’

I down another gulp of coffee and let the buzz
travel through me like static electricity. Todd is scraping the bottom of the
Tupperware, trying to get each and every grain of rice. Once he’s done he
stands and takes the container to the sink. I sit in silence, listening to the
gurgling of the water and the scratching of the soapy sponge on the plastic
Tupperware. Todd is whistling, looking out the window that overlooks one of the
playgrounds. It is interesting how we still refer to it as a playground even
though the youngest kid out there has got to be eleven or twelve. There never
seems to be much ‘playing’ going on down there. More like gossiping or
flirting, or bullying. I have noticed a game or two of handball. This would be
considered ‘play’ I suppose.

‘Paul Beckett and Matt Parker are inseparable.
If I didn’t know Paul better, I’d say they were gay.’

Todd’s voice cuts through my thoughts like a
Samurai sword. I feel my pulse quicken and I look down at my empty coffee mug,
but I know it’s not the coffee this time. I place my hand against my chest and
try to will my heart to slow down. It’s racing so much I feel like I could
throw up.

I take a long slow breath and I realise Todd is
still talking, over by the window. He is on his tippy toes, staring directly
down to the playground below.

‘...I didn’t know what to do when I found them.
It seemed innocent enough but then, how can you tell? And anyway, what could I
do about it? If I accused them and got it wrong I’d be out of here before you
could say George Michael.’

I shake my head. ‘
What?
’

Todd turns to face me. He is drying the
container with a red-checked tea towel. ‘Weren’t you listening? A couple of
years back. I caught them in the boys change room after sport. They were buck
naked, flicking each other with towels. And it was only the two of them in
there.’

I’m confused. I’m not quite sure what Todd is saying.
Wasn’t he talking about...and now he’s saying...I shake my head again. I can’t
believe this. ‘Matt. And
Paul
?’ I ask.

Todd is hanging the tea towel back on its hook.
‘What?’ he asks, his forehead burrowing with confusion. ‘Who are you talking
about?’

I stare at him.

‘Ohhh,’ he says, realising. ‘You really weren’t
listening were you? Not Matt and Paul. These other two. They’ve left now, you
wouldn’t know them.’ He laughs and drops back into his seat next to me. ‘Geez.
Talk about fearful looks. The one you’ve got now is worse then the sixtieth
birthday stripping fiasco. What the hell is up with you, Ab?’

I look at Todd and shake my head slowly. I don’t
know what to say to him. I’ve still got my hand resting on my chest and I can
feel my heart pounding inside me. I’m not ready to admit this out loud.

‘I thought you were talking about Matt and Paul,’
I say absentmindedly.

‘I was before. But what’s it to you anyhow? Why
would you care if...’ Todd lets his voice trail off.

I glance at him and see a look of realisation in
his eyes. As though the answer to a troubling puzzle has just presented itself.
We keep staring at each other. I can’t even bring myself to look away, even
though I know my eyes are betraying this secret from deep within me. A secret
I’d been denying until I saw that look in Todd’s eyes. How could I have let
this happen?

Todd’s eyes continue to search mine. They even
take in my entire demeanour; my face, my body. I watch as his eyes travel over
me and then fall on my hand resting on my chest. He sighs, and looks me in the
eye again. His expression is one of pity now. I reach my hand out and place it
on his arm, silently pleading with him.

‘Paul Beckett,’ he says, without any infliction
or feeling.

I let my gaze drop to my lap and I feel the
tears come. So much for a snot-nosed teenager’s remark. All I’d needed was
someone to speak his name.

***

Matt and I have first period off so we take a
seat under the trees outside the science labs. We’re meant to use free periods
to study, but no one ever says anything. I suppose they figure it’s
our
final year, if we stuff up our exams it’s no skin off their nose. We’re the ones
who’d have to pay for flunking out of school. I can just imagine what The Chief
would do to me then. There’d be nowhere to hide from that fury. Still, you
don’t see me running off to the library now do you?

We’re practically the only ones around, except
for a couple of Year Sevens who still haven’t learnt their way around the place.
I watch them wander around, huddled close together. They stop and point towards
the Main Office, take a few steps in that direction but then turn back. Now one
of them pulls a book from his bag and flips it open. They both lean in to take
a look. The smallest one runs a hand through his dark hair and pulls at the
strap on his backpack. He looks about ready to chuck his guts up. Or worse;
shit his daks. I don’t bother going to help them. It’s more fun watching them
squirm.

Matt would help them. If he wasn’t so caught up
in Reggie’s Playboy. I lean over to take a squiz, expecting to see some naked
pussy or something. But all I see is writing. He’s reading one of the articles!

‘Give it here,’ I say, snatching the magazine
from him.

‘Oy. I was reading that.’ Matt tries to grab it
back but I hold my arm out as far as I can.

‘That’s the problem, you doofus,’ I say,
flicking a couple of pages. ‘I mean, check out this lesbo action. This has
got
to be better than any article.’

Matt stares at the semi-naked lesbians for a second
then laughs. ‘Righto. But it was interesting. It was about global warming.’

‘Take a look at this one,’ I say, pointing to a
chick with blonde hair tied up in pigtails.

‘She’s got a banana!’ says Matt, his eyes almost
bulging out of their sockets like in a cartoon. ‘What must her folks think?’

‘Her old lady’s probably in here too,’ I laugh.

Matt’s quiet for a few minutes as I’m thumbing
through the magazine but soon I notice his right foot tapping absentmindedly
against his left leg. This is Matt’s trademark ‘I’m bored’ gesture. I reckon
he’s not even aware he does it. But I’ve sure seen it often over the years. And
it drives me mad every single time.

I dump the magazine on the grass and punch him
softly on the arm.

‘I’ve got a story for you,’ I say.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. Reckon McFadden’s stalking me or
something.’

That gets his attention. Matt drags his knees up
to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs.

‘What? I thought he’d gotten sick of you. We’ve
hardly heard a peep from him for months,’ he says.

‘I know. But last night I got home and he’s
sitting in the paddock across the road. Just sitting, you know, like he belongs
there or something. Like it’s not weird he’s hanging out near my house.’

‘Did you call him on it?’

‘I yelled out ‘What do you want?’ but he just
sat there, staring at me. I didn’t bother going over to him. Figured I’d get my
face smashed in. But cop this right...’

‘Yeah.’

‘...an hour later I’m in the lounge room and Mum’s
like “who
is
that boy outside there? He’s been there for hours. It’s
giving me the creeps. Howard, go tell him to leave would you?”’

Matt’s eyes are bulging again. ‘What? He was
still sitting there?’

I nod. ‘Yep. I took a look out the window and
sure enough the bloody dipshit’s still sitting there. I don’t know what he’d
been doing all that time. Just staring at the house? Who knows? But it was
fucking weird.’

‘I reckon. So what’d your dad do?’

‘What do you reckon? Told Mum to stop
interrupting the news.’ I clear my throat. ‘
I don’t give a rat’s arse whose
outside. As long as he doesn’t try to break in, he can sit there all night long.
Makes no difference to me.
’