Thrill Seekers (12 page)

‘Help him!’ I yell. ‘For God’s sake! Someone!’

Through the crowd I see a large shape approaching. A thickset young man in greasy overalls forces his way through the circle. Brian. He grabs Jacko, lifts him till his feet are dangling, then throws him face first into the crowd.

‘Get the fuck away from my brother, you cunt!’

Jacko staggers to his feet. ‘Brian! I … Um … He started it. Fucken attacked me for nothing.’

Brian shoves a giant fist under his nose but then thinks better of it, and lets him go. Jacko topples backwards, mashing the last of the sausages into the bricks.

Brian bends down over Douggie, closes his arms around him and hoists him upright.

‘You right mate? Everyone’s been looking for you. Thought I might find you here.’

‘Hey, Bri,’ says Douggie through thick lips and blood. ‘I won the meat tray.’

Muddy spray hits my lips as the boat thumps over small waves, heading east along the river. Ray, the head mechanic at work, is taking me and Bruce, the other apprentice, fishing for the day because we did so well on our tech exam.

Ray’s not a bad bloke, for an old fella I mean. Even though he must be at least forty he still swears and stuff and lets us have the radio playing in the workshop, doesn’t mind if we muck around a bit as long as the work gets done. Didn’t think his boat would be this fancy though. It’s three thousand times better than Dad’s dinghy was, that’s
for sure. This is a proper cruiser. It’s got a cabin and a huge fucking motor that roars like a Harley. Cool.

Bruce is hanging over the edge looking green, clutching his guts, but I’m loving it. Especially now we’ve left the river and the stink that hangs in the mangroves. The sky stretches blue and clean above our heads.

Reckon Douggie would have a ball out here. Pity I had to take him back to the loony bin yesterday. But I had to. He was okay about it, stuck out his puny chest and went in. Even though he’s stuck in that shitty hole he doesn’t let it get to him. He makes a break for it whenever he can, runs wild for a few days till they lock him back up. That takes a lot of guts. He even took on Jacko that day in the pub. He’s the bravest kid I know, my little brother.

I stare at the water, watching as it slowly changes from brown to blue as we speed out into the bay. I think about me and Douggie and Steve and Beck and Russ, about how things went from fun to fucked faster than
a summer storm hits.

I think about Jacko and me. I can’t get that story about David and Goliath, the kid who killed a giant with one stone from his slingshot, out of my head. Reckon that’s how I felt when I threw Jacko to the ground.

Funny thing is though, it was only when I picked him up and saw his feet dangling that I realised I was bigger than him. I’ve probably been head and shoulders taller for the last five years, just never noticed, still in awe of him and that bloody leather jacket. Following his orders as if he was still the captain of our crazy raft, putting up with all his crap, trying to be like him, to be his right hand man. Looking up to him.

And all the time I was bigger. Much bigger.

‘So, where to fellas?’ asks Ray. ‘Want to stop around here at Fisherman Island or go on further to St. Helena, check out the ruins?’

Bruce doesn’t say anything, he’s too busy spewing.

‘Well I reckon that’s one vote for stopping as soon as we can. What about you, matey?’

I shrug. ‘Don’t care, wherever.’

‘Nah mate, I need more than that. You want to go see the ruins or stop here? Your trip, you make the choice.’

‘What do you reckon?’

‘Up to you mate. They’re both good.’ He glances over at Bruce, who’s standing up wiping his mouth. ‘Bruce can hack it if you want to go further, can’t ya Brucie?’

He nods.

‘Let’s go to St. Helena then. I’ve always wanted to see that old jail,’ I say.

Ray powers up the motor and turns the wheel. ‘St. Helena it is. That wasn’t so hard was it?’

In a cove on the sheltered side of the island, where we can see the crumbling sandstone walls of the convict prison, we drop anchor and cast in our fishing lines. The first fish is mine, and it’s not even a catfish or an eel like we used to catch in the creek. It’s a bream, a beauty.

‘That’s a keeper,’ says Ray with a grin. ‘Chuck him in the bucket. We’ll cook him up later for lunch.’

‘Good on ya,’ says Bruce, who’s feeling heaps better since we stopped.

Ray catches the next one, then Bruce, then I reel in another one, but they’re all smaller than that first whopper.

‘Let’s call it quits, hey?’ says Ray. ‘We’ve got heaps of tucker for now and even some to take home. Reckon your Mum would like that big one for tea, Brian?’

‘Yeah.’ It’d feel real good to give Mum something for once.

We putter round the cove a bit till we find some flats to drag the boat up on, though we still have to jump out into the water and the bottoms of our jeans get soaked. Bruce and I collect kindling and make a fire while Ray does the scaling and gutting, then we each spear a fish onto the end of a stick and roast it over the flames. Ray hands out colas from the esky and I don’t even care that it’s not beer.

I feel so goddam good, I’m scared something bad’s about to happen. That Ray will realise he’s made a mistake in taking us out, suddenly notice I’m fat and useless like Jacko always used to say, and leave me here on the island with the ghosts of the convicts.

But he doesn’t.

After handing me his fish to cook, he limps back over to the esky to grab some lemon and the bread and butter.

‘What’s with your leg, Ray?’ asks Bruce.

I shoot him a look. You don’t ask stupid questions like that, what if it’s something bad? I hate it when people ask about Dad or Douggie. The answers are too long and sad. They’re my private stories, to try to make sense of when I’m alone. But Ray doesn’t seem to mind. ‘Accident. Wasn’t much older than you fellas are now. I was a bit of a bloody moron. Totally pissed with my mates, stole a car and pranged into a tree. Almost killed my best mate. Fucked my leg for life.’

‘Shit,’ we say.

‘Yep. My mate’s okay now but I still feel real bad about it. Should never have happened.’ Ray stops mid-smear of butter. ‘But you know what? That accident was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, besides the missus and kids I mean. I was real wild in those days, and it stopped me right in my tracks. In hospital for months myself, and then that whole year visiting
Harry, I had lots of time to think, sort myself out.’ He passes over a piece of bread with his big grease-stained hand. ‘If it weren’t for that bloody accident I’d be in jail now I reckon. Or dead.’ He shakes his head. ‘Funny how life works out.’

The fish is cooked, white flesh flaking away from the bones, so we peel away the blackened skin and lay the meat on the fresh soft bread, squeeze on some lemon and tuck in. Best lunch I’ve ever had.

Later, after we’ve stuffed ourselves like Christmas, we pack up, smother the fire with sand and wade back out to the boat. I’m so full I lie down to rest on one of the bench seats, my arm covering my eyes as the swell rolls under me. Bruce finally seems to have found his sea legs so Ray lets him have a turn steering the boat.

As we enter the river and the water gets murkier, Ray calls me over.

‘Your turn now, hey Bri?’

I sit up and rub my hands through my hair. ‘What? Drive the boat? What if I crash it?’

‘You’ll be right mate. Come on. Give it a go.’

I take the wheel but I’m so nervous my knees feel like they’re going to give.

‘That’s the way,’ says Ray, standing behind me. ‘Now just point the nose down the middle of the river and keep going. Piece of piss.’ Then he goes and lies down on the bench and closes his eyes. ‘Give us a yell when you see the Uni.’

‘But …’

‘You’ll be fine.’ He says with a yawn. ‘Just keep steering down the middle and you can’t go wrong.’

At first I’m fucking petrified but after a while I realise it’s really not that hard. Bruce lies down too and I stand like a crusty old seadog at the wheel of my ship, feet
wide apart to keep my balance, my hands steady.

Looking down the river I steer a straight course, right down the middle like Ray said. Feeling ten feet tall with a chest as wide and strong as a bear’s, I roll with the movement of the boat. Salty water sprays my face and my cheeks stretch into a mighty grin.

Suddenly it comes to me. A plan. A great one. I’m going to save up and buy myself one of these big boats, maybe even a bigger one with sails and beds and shit, so that by the time Douggie gets out for good we’ll be set to go. We’ll steer out of this bloody river like we should’ve done all those years ago on our raft, sail out into the bay and just keep going east. Far. All the way to Fiji or Hawaii, whatever we hit first.

We’ll sail into the world, free and brave and ready for adventures, good and bad.

Ready at last to be what we were always meant to be, thrill seekers.

I am just 17 and my life is over. Head spinning, hands shaking, I need to throw up again. The lights are so bright I can only squint. I can hear people passing, but they’re just blurs.

Sitting here, sweat carving lines through my make-up, I feel as if everyone is judging me. The seats either side of me are empty. People are standing, rather than sit next to me – the junkie. Funny, isn’t it, that I’m drowning in a sea of people, but if I died in front of them, it’d be alone.

I came here with Mai-Ling but they took her away, through those clear plastic swing
doors. She was totally out of it. I thought she had just partied too hard when she fell on the footpath and started throwing up. But then blood started trickling from her ears and nose and I panicked. I got her here as fast as I could but it was hard, no one would help. I haven’t seen her since and nobody’s telling me what is happening.

You think I am self-pitying. You’re thinking I’m another spoilt rich kid whose daddy gave her everything. Shit, they called the cops before they called my father!

The only time anyone comes near me is to question me again. They want to know everything but I can hardly think, let alone focus on what they are saying. I’m still too smashed to concentrate and they know it, but they keep hammering me. I don’t care what they want to know, I just keep on back at them: “Is Mai-Ling OK? Is my friend alright?”

They act like they don’t hear me.

On and on they go with the same fucking questions, “What did your friend take? What did she drink? When did she start losing consciousness?”

I keep saying to them, I’ve already told you everything – just leave me alone!

Fuck, I’m going to throw up again!

It’s been half an hour since I spewed but my stomach won’t settle. My father is still not here, even though I’ve called him like a million times. I have no one and I’m scared.

“Carrie Jones?” a voice startles me from behind. As I turn I am face to face with two cops. I can hear the whole waiting room exhale. The cavalry has arrived! Someone to take the druggie away.

“Carrie?”

They want me to talk to them but the room is spinning and I can only hold my head in my hands and nod.

“I am Constable Adams and this is Constable Cummings; we need to ask you about what happened tonight.”

Taking my hands from my face, the neon lights burn. I see a woman who could only be three or four years older than I am. The realisation is starting to hit me that I’m in a shit-load of trouble and things have gone way too far. If the police are here then something really terrible must have happened to Mai-Ling. Or am I still tripping and this is not real. But it feels real – too real.

I swallow hard to stop the tears, “Is
Mai-Ling
…?”

The Constable’s face is blank as she glances at her partner. It is as if they are talking in some kind of silent code to each other.

“Is she alright?”

Still no answer.

“Is she?” I am screaming now, I need to know! “For Christ’s sake, will someone tell me what is happening with Mai-Ling?”

My words have poured themselves into my tears and I can hardly catch my breath. “She was just pinging, right? You know, she’s just high. She’ll be okay now that she’s spewed, right?”

The female cop sits down next to me and looks me straight in the eye. She’s freaking me out. My heart is racing and sweat is pouring down my face. My hair is dripping wet and I can’t stop shaking. She is still just staring at me like she’s searching for a way to break the terrible news to me.

She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Mai-Ling is still unconscious. This is very serious. We don’t know yet …”

I feel like I have been hit in the guts. “What do you mean it’s serious? She hardly took anything!”

The other cop stands and holds out his hand. “Let’s go and sit down somewhere quieter, Carrie.”

“Let me see Mai-Ling. You can make the doctors let me see her, I know you can.”

“The best way to help Mai-Ling at the moment is to tell us everything that happened tonight.”

“I’ve told them everything. I don’t know anything else.”

“I know but we need to ask you some more things.”

“What things?”

“Come on, let’s find a quieter place.”

This guy is making out like he wants to help me but I don’t trust him. My father
has told me a lot about how the police get people to say things which get you into trouble. He’s got a shit-load of stories about how they pretend to be your friend but really they’re just trying to get you to say something bad. I don’t trust them.

“I need my father to be here. He’s a lawyer. I can’t speak to you until he’s here.”

They stiffen the minute I say “lawyer”. They’re going to start pressuring me now, I can tell.

The woman cop is smiling at me with this fake I-care-about-you smile. “Carrie,
Mai-Ling’
s mother is on her way. Don’t you think she deserves to know what happened?”

“I already told the doctors what she took.”

“You told them she had a tablet at a party. What was it?”

“I already told them.”

“You need to tell us.”

“Fuck! It was an ecstasy tablet. Okay?”

“Who did she get it from?”

“From this guy at the party. He had lots. Everyone was taking them. If there was something wrong we’d all be sick, right?”

The male cop keeps looking straight at me and asks his next question. “What’s the name of the person who gave Mai-Ling the tablet?”

“I need to see my father! Where the
fuck
is my father?”

“I don’t know where your father is, but Carrie, we need to know now. You want to help Mai-Ling, don’t you?”

“Of course I fucking want to help
Mai-Ling.
She’s my best friend! What do you think I am?”

“Did you take one of the tablets as well?”

“No.”

“You took something though.”

“What does that matter?”

The female cop stares at me again like she’s my mother. Stupid bitch, she thinks she’s so cool in her uniform and that shiny badge.

“I took a half, okay. I told Mai-Ling to only take a half. She hadn’t taken it before and I told her to just take a half. But she didn’t listen!”

“Can you tell us what happened from the beginning? From when you got to the party?”

“I need my father here first.”

The woman cop looks over at her partner. He is shaking his head. I hear him whisper
something like, “Go steady on her, she’s just a kid.” The woman cop is glaring back and I can’t make out what she’s saying. The guy cop sits down next to me.

“Look, I know this is hard for you. Your friend is really sick and you’re feeling pretty sick yourself. We’re not trying to make things harder for you.”

“I need to call my father.”

As I fumble for my mobile phone it starts to ring. “Dad?”

It’s not him but his girlfriend, Anne.

“I need to speak to my dad.”

She is telling me that he is out at the moment but she will get him to call me the minute he gets back.

“But I need him to come now …”

She has already hung up. She treats me like I’m nothing. Fuck! I’m in the hospital
for Christ’s sake and his girlfriend is screening his calls! I want to cry but I need to scream.

The woman cop is looking at me like she actually understands. “Come on, let’s go to the Ladies and you can wash your face.”

The mention of water reminds me how thirsty I am. Now, I cannot think of anything else.

“I need water.”

She brings me a plastic cup. I scull it and am desperate for more. She brings me one cup after another. It’s like I’m a bloody camel.

I’m still drinking when a woman runs into the waiting room screaming Mai-Ling’s name. She stops dead, looks at me and my whole stomach knots. It is Mai-Ling’s mum and she looks like a train wreck, clothes thrown over pyjamas. Jesus, she is walking over to me, face screwed up. She has no idea.

“Carrie, Carrie, where’s my Mai-Ling? What’s happened to her?”

She is so unaware, she has no fucking clue.

“I don’t know, Mrs Truong. She’s in with the doctors I think.”

She looks at the two cops and then back at me. “Carrie, what’s going on?”

The policewoman saves me from answering. She moves Mai-Ling’s mum away and starts talking to her. God, I feel like crap. She is crying and clutching at the policewoman guiding her over to one of the nurses. The other cop is still sitting with me. He is watching Mai-Ling’s mother too and I know what he is thinking. How glad he is that it’s not him having to tell her; how thankful he is that he is the one left here with me. He is like my father, unemotional when it comes to real life. He catches me looking at him and makes an oh-shit kind of face. I make the same and decide that my father can do what he does best, arrive in
time to clean up the mess.

“My dad’s not coming. What do you want me to tell you?”

We wait in a small office to the side of the waiting room. I see Mai-Ling’s mum through the glass, sitting in the waiting room crying. Others are watching her but no-one goes to see if she’s alright. I should be with her but instead I am here telling two strangers how her daughter came to be passed out in the emergency unit of the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital.

The policewoman leans towards me. “We need to know exactly what happened tonight. From the beginning.”

“There isn’t much to tell. It was just some stupid party with a bunch of stupid people getting drunk and off their faces.”

“Can you tell me where this party was? The address?”

“Somewhere in Newtown, near the train station.”

The other cop chimes in. “Carrie we need you to be more exact.”

“That’s all I know. We went there with these guys we met in the city.”

The policewoman asks, “Did you know these people?”

“No, not really, we met them at a nightclub earlier on. They said they were going to this party and said we could come.”

“How old are you, Carrie?”

“Seventeen.”

“And Mai-Ling?”

“Seventeen.”

I can tell she is thinking that I’m trash. I have a private education, go to one of the
best private schools in Sydney, but I’m still trash. None the less she is keeping up her I-really-care-about-you tone.

“Okay, what happened when you got to the party?”

“We had a couple of drinks and kind of hung around a bit.”

“Were you with Mai-Ling?”

“Sort of, she was talking to this cute guy so I hung back.”

“What were you drinking?”

“Bundy and Coke.”

“Did you mix your drinks yourself or did someone give them to you?”

“The guy Mai-Ling was talking to got them for us.”

She looks over to her partner with a knowing look. As she turns back, her eyes
flick to the glass wall behind me. I spin around to see what she’s looking at. It’s Mai-Ling’s mother. As the doctor speaks to her, her sobs become a wail. They take her by the arm and help her up. I try to run out there but the woman cop grabs my arm. Her partner gets up and leaves the room. Mai-Ling’s mother is being taken through the plastic doors into the emergency ward.

“I have to go with her. Let me go with her!” My whole body is shaking. I know something bad has happened, something really bad.

“You need to stay here.” The constable insists.

“She’s my friend. She needs me.”

“She needs her mother.”

The reality hits. I am just the friend. Even though I’m the one who knows
Mai-Ling
better than anyone. Even though we shared all our thoughts and secrets, and were there for each other no matter what.
When push comes to shove, I’m not blood, so I’m nothing.

Mai-Ling did need her mother. She needed her more than most but she wasn’t like girls our age. While we were all growing up in our flash houses on Sydney’s North Shore, she was in Vietnam scraping together money to afford to go to school. I remember when she told me how she came to Australia in a boat no bigger than my father’s yacht. Over 20 people including Mai-Ling and her folks crowded together for weeks until they got to Australia. Three people died on the way – one of them was her father. They had to throw his body overboard. If that wasn’t enough, when they got here they were thrown into the detention centre at Villawood for three years until, finally, they got a visa and could stay. Her mother has worked 24/7 ever since to give Mai-Ling everything she never had herself. So, yeah, Mai-Ling needed her mum but she had me instead, and that’s just life, isn’t it?