Still Waving (15 page)

I flashed back to me standing at the dam with a rock, trying to put the little bunny out of its misery. Its big eyes so sad, saying, please help me, just do it. I shut the vision down. It still made me feel bad.

‘What do you mean you couldn't do it?'

‘Well I did in the end, but it took me ages and the bunny suffered while I stood there frozen.'

‘Sheesh, you've never told me that before.'

‘I haven't thought about it in a long time.'

We stared out to sea together. I thought about the farm and how it had been my home for over fourteen years. I used to hide away a lot at my old place. It wasn't like I could just walk out of the house and go
to a friend's place, or down the street or anything. I had to stay at home because everywhere else was too far away. Toby and I used to get away from the house and our mother and father fighting, as much as possible. We especially avoided Dad, because he'd always blame us if things went wrong. It was harder for Toby because Dad would make him work with him a lot of the time.

Looking back, I'd been scared for most of my life. Even when Dad wasn't home, we all lived in fear of his return.

‘You know, Toby, living at Aunt Jean's is the first time in my whole life I've lived without being sorry I was born.'

Toby looked at me with understanding.

I continued on. ‘It's amazing because if you live like we did, you think it's normal and how you feel is normal.'

Toby nodded his head. ‘I know what you mean. One time Uncle Wayne started crying.'

‘God, crying?'

‘Shocked the hell out of me. I mean, he's a man.'

‘What did you do?'

‘I just stared at him. I didn't have a clue what to do. I felt like I was going to burst out as well.' Toby looked sad.

‘Did you?'

‘Yeah, but I didn't know what I was crying about. Uncle Wayne sounded so sad, you know like a dog howling.'

‘Did he tell you why?'

‘Yeah. You're not going to believe what he said.'

‘What?'

‘Uncle Wayne said he was crying because every time he spoke to me, I'd cringe like a kicked dog.'

‘Holy shit, that's pretty heavy.'

‘I know. I was completely blown away. I didn't even know I did it.'

‘That's from Dad always yelling at you.'

‘I know. Uncle Wayne said that's what made him so sad.'

‘Wow. Uncle Wayne seems so different to Dad.'

‘You wouldn't believe how different. Did you notice that I cringed?'

‘I don't know.'

‘I think it happened more with men's voices.'

‘Have you stopped?'

‘I try not to do it. When Uncle Wayne asks me to do something, I say rightio like normal.'

‘I'm not scared of coming home from school anymore. I don't hate the weekends.'

‘I don't feel so stupid anymore.' Toby burst into tears.

I went and put my arms around him. At first his
pride resisted, but then he let go and sobbed quietly.

‘We're getting better, Toby,' I whispered.

Toby's muffled voice answered. ‘I know, I know.' We held each other for a long time, sobbing softly into each other.

The tide receded enough for us to safely get to the grotto. It was well hidden, and if we hadn't accidentally come across it one day, we'd never have known it was there. Most day trippers didn't see the small cave hidden by rocks.

‘This is so cool.'

Toby lay back against a smooth rock.

I lay down against another rock and stared into the endless blue space. The sun glared at me. I pulled my hat over my eyes. I was glad Toby seemed cheerier. I knew a good cry helped, sometimes.

‘Geoff wants me to join the surf club.' I wanted to talk about anything except our family.

‘Will you?'

‘I don't think so. I've entered a competition in a few weeks.'

‘That's serious.'

‘I told you I'm going to be the world champion.'

‘Go for it sis.'

I closed my eyes and imagined myself skimming a wave, gliding across the roll.

‘It's my dream, Toby. Have you got one?'

‘Not really.' Toby looked away. ‘I wish I wasn't scared of sharks. Maybe I could have surfed too.' Toby smiled at me. ‘I don't know yet if I want to be a rock star or King of Australia. I don't think about it much.'

‘I think my surfing dream is a bit more realistic than King of Australia.'

‘Maybe. I don't really know. Maybe I just want to be a farmer.'

‘You don't have to know what you want to do, now. You've got plenty of time to make up your mind.'

‘Like I said, I'm not worried,' Toby grinned.

‘Are you going to go back to our old high school?'

‘No way. I couldn't do it. I'd hate all those morons whispering behind my back, wanting to fight me. It'd be worse than death by a thousand cuts.' Toby took a deep breath. ‘No way am I going to give them the pleasure of being the freak in their circus.' Toby stared out to sea, the grin gone. ‘I'm going to do distance ed.'

‘What about friends? Won't you get lonely?'

‘I've got friends. Remember Rick and Ben?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I've caught up with them and they've come out a couple of times. I reckon I'll see more of Ruby and her mob now.'

‘How come you hadn't contacted Ruby?'

‘Dunno.' Toby blushed and looked away.

I remembered the crush he'd had on Ruby. I thought he'd given it up when he found out we were sort of cousins. I guess he hasn't lost the attraction by the look of his tomato-red cheeks.

‘Well at least you've broken the ice.'

‘Jules, can you marry your cousin?'

I nearly fell over.

‘It happens. Think of the royal family and the aristocracy, they're all cousins and married and stuff. I think you're not meant to marry like really close blood, like first cousin or maybe even second. Why?' As if I didn't know where Toby's sudden interest in bloodlines, came from.

‘No reason.'

‘Ruby's not a blood cousin, you know.'

‘Who said anything about her?'

‘I was just trying to make it crystal clear for you.'

‘It's nothing to do with her.' Toby looked away.

‘You know Toby, if I hadn't come here to live, there's no way I would ever have dreamed of being a surfer.' I let him off the hook.

‘It's weird isn't it? If you were back at the farm …' Toby stopped.

‘I can't imagine that now.' I swallowed hard. ‘You know I love it here now, better than back there. Do you think it's bad to say that?'

‘Not if you mean it.'

‘I feel guilty sometimes.' I looked down at my toes and wriggled them.

‘Why? You didn't do anything wrong.'

‘It's like sometimes I nearly forget what Mum looks like.'

Toby remained silent.

‘Does that happen to you, Toby?'

‘I don't know. The hardest thing I guess is sometimes I think I'm going to see Jon or Jen come flying around the corner on their bikes. When I look there's nothing there.'

‘I'd find it so hard being there. You're very brave to deal with it in your face like that. I couldn't handle it. I'd spend all the time crying. Monday, Tuesday …'

Toby put his hand up. ‘I get it. Are you ever going to come back?'

‘One day. Never to live, I'm not ready. Ruby asks me sometimes.'

‘I want you to visit and see the house we're building.'

‘I will one day, just not yet.'

‘I think it's normal to start forgetting what people look like once they've died.'

‘Where did you hear that?'

‘Uncle Wayne told me.'

‘I wonder what Mum thinks of us if she's somewhere out there.' I sat up and stared at the horizon.

‘I think she'd be happy if we were.'

‘You're right. That's what Mum would want.' I smiled.

I'm going to try really, really hard to be a happy person.'

‘I'm going to try and make this my laughing year instead of the usual crying twenty-four seven.'

‘Starting from this nano second.' Toby stood up and put a stupid smile on his face.

I tried to smile, but Dad's letter came into my mind.

‘Sorry, but I think we have to delay happiness a bit longer.'

‘What?'

‘What about this bloody letter?'

‘Why'd you think of that?'

‘It's burning a hole in my pocket, that's why. You try and be happy carrying this.'

I handed it to Toby. He stared at the envelope as if he'd never seen it before. Dad had written our names on the front, but no address. On the back there was a childlike drawing on the seal. It had the classic S.W.A.L.K. Whenever I'd turned it over, I felt disgust. How could he seal it with a loving kiss? It was too much.

Toby ripped it open.

‘Toby.'

‘I want to know what he says.'

‘I'll have half a sandwich.' I needed nourishment to give me strength.

I ate in silence. Toby was content to watch the fishermen and wait while I ate.

‘He caught an eel,' Toby exclaimed.

I looked. From a distance it looked like a squirming snake. The fisherman unhooked it on the rocks. It thrashed around, obviously unhappy with its fate. He threw it back in the ocean.

‘He'll catch it again,' Toby said.

Toby didn't seem to be in any hurry either, to read the letter, now that he'd torn it open. I looked around the cave. Other people had been here. There were empty beer cans and bottles wedged between the cracks in the rocks and lying back from where the tide could reach them. Toby found syringes stuffed in the wall.

It wasn't that I didn't want to share our grotto. I just didn't like the disrespect others showed. I mean how hard was it to take your rubbish away? I felt sorry for those who didn't know any better, and didn't see the filth they left behind.

‘I hate broken glass,' I said, picking up the neck of a bottle and putting it in a rubbish bag I'd brought. I always took one when I walked around the rocks. Otherwise I'd despair at the pollution that was so
deadly to fish and birds. It was one of my earliest lessons when I came to live on the coast. I found a cormorant strangled by a plastic bag. It also had fishing line embedded in its beak. I knew the impact of garbage on the sea world. Those creatures I shared my love with. As I picked up numerous bits, numerous times, I hoped I'd find a treasure amongst the rubbish. Not just plastic lighters, broken glass, bottle tops, polystyrene bits and disposable nappies. I was still searching.

We were perched on smooth rocks. It was a comfortable seat. I felt thousands of years of people sitting here, staring out at the horizon, watching for any hint of change in the weather, by how the birds acted and the clouds formed. The people who'd made this seat were now gone, and would never be able to return to their resting places.

Toby had stopped watching the fisherman. He'd placed the letter under a rock.

‘I don't care anymore. I DON'T CARE !' I shouted to the waves.

Toby looked startled.

‘I just sometimes wonder, who am I? Am I more like Mum or Dad? Am I like either of them? What hope have I got?'

Toby didn't respond to my shouting. He stared into the distance.

‘Aunt Jean says she believes in free will,' I continued. ‘People all through their lives make choices about right and wrong, good and bad. Aunt Jean reckons kids at eight know the difference. I don't know. It doesn't seem like it's that simple sometimes, I mean we had no choice about what happened to us. It just happened.'

‘It blows my mind, no comprehendo. I'm only fourteen, I'm not meant to think much. I get a sore head if I try.' Toby held his head dramatically.

‘You're nearly fifteen, and you've got to start thinking about all of this, sometime Toby.'

‘Who says? I'm leaving the thinking to those who want to. I just want to live in the present. Uncle Wayne says if you live in the past, you drag a load behind you.'

‘Bloody Uncle Wayne seems to know everything.'

‘You wouldn't believe how much he knows.'

‘If he and Aunt Jean got together we wouldn't need any reference books.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Between them they probably know everything.'

‘No. I mean what did you say about Aunt Jean and Uncle Wayne getting together?'

‘I was joking Toby. It won't happen, believe you me.'

‘It would be worse than cousins marrying, I reckon.'

‘Relax. It won't happen.'

‘I hope not. It would be a nightmare.'

‘Trust me. It won't happen,' I said with finality.

‘You strain your brain on things there's no answers to. Then what happens? A major spin-out. A fuse blown in the brain. Doesn't that tell you something?' Toby said accusingly.

‘I guess that's what makes us different. I try to find answers to the things that happened in the past. You know, why, why, why?' I was determined to not get angry at Toby.

‘There's no answer. It happened, that's all.'

‘Don't worry. I don't spend all my time asking myself dumb questions. This appeal stuff has got to me. I can't get Dad out of my mind. It's like he's following me around. It's too much sometimes.'

‘I don't give a stuff about Dad!'

Toby scrunched up the already-crumpled letter. I thought he was going to chuck it in the sea. We looked at each other.

‘The time has come, the walrus said.'

Toby stared at me blankly.

‘Don't you remember that poem Mum used to tell us when we were little?'

‘Not really.'

‘About the walrus and the carpenter tricking the oysters to come for a walk.'

Toby laughed. ‘I sort of remember. Isn't there some
thing about cabbages and kings?'