Wrath. Part 6

Could have fooled me, Mother dear, I felt like saying, but I sat there silently.

Looking all pink and smiley, Mum said, "Ray's asked me to marry him, and I've said yes."

There was a silence. No, that word doesn't explain what there was. I could hear a crow way off, doing his five-call cry. Why is it nearly always five? I thought, and I remember following this thought almost excitedly. Had I cracked some secret bird code of communication?

Katy pushed her foot slowly against mine. I flicked my eyes across at her, and she widened hers at me. She was as stunned as I was.

"What do you think?" Mum said, her voice urgent and breathy. We both turned to her, and Katy slid her foot away from me. Reid was looking at us both too (me mostly) with a crease of-anger? concern? smugness?-on his forehead.

"Aren't you still married to Dad?" I croaked.

Mum s.h.i.+fted in the chair and licked her lips. "The divorce came through last week. That's what we were both waiting for."

Waiting for. Like you wait for the Royal Show or your birthday or a holiday. Waiting to finally wipe off Dad. I got to my feet awkwardly. "Does that mean you'll be here all the time? You'll live here?"

"We'll live in Geraldton," said Reid. "That's where I work, and that's where high school is for you two. Plus," he said, reaching his hand across to Mum's knee, "that's where your mum wants to live too. There's nothing keeping us here."

Katy piped up. "I love Geraldton. Luca, we'll be able to go to the beach every day after school."

I turned to her, shocked at the traitor she had become. "This is our home, Katy," I said, hating the wobble in my voice. "All our friends are here. This is where we've always lived."

Mum broke in with a note of irritation in her voice. "All your friends will be going to school there, Luca. There's no high school here! You'll see them every day."

I looked down at my hands, surprised to see them trembling.

Katy got up. "Gee, are you going to have a big wedding?" She sounded excited. It made me sick.

Reid laughed and said, "That's up to your mum, but I don't think so. Just us and a few friends. My sister, of course, and a few people from work."

"Would you like to be my bridesmaid?" I heard Mum say.

Katy gasped. "Oh, Mum, that would be great!" She jumped up and hugged Mum, and then, in front of me, she kind of skipped across and hugged Reid! I saw his freckly arms go around Katy, and I knew it was done. Once we moved from here, it would be as though Dad and our old life had never existed.

Anger surged through me at Dad. Why did you go so easily? Why didn't you sell the house and move us all away from that toad? Mum would have been fine. She just got unhappy that you were away all the time and you were so cranky and tired when you were here. I started imagining what it could have been like-the four of us, maybe in Geraldton. Dad could have gotten a job there, and everything would have been like before. We would have been our old four-wheeled machine again.

But even as the pictures formed in my mind, I could hear Katy and Mum laughing and Ray's voice chiming in, and I realised there was a new machine now. I just wasn't part of it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

I came home from school a few days later, and a For Sale' sign had been hammered onto the fence. I wondered whether Dad would get any money when the house was sold. I supposed he wouldn't, but then if he cared about the house, he wouldn't have walked out of it so easily.

Katy was sitting on the edge of the veranda, swinging her legs and soaking up the sun. She had both arms stretched behind her like props, and her face was turned up to the sun. She was smiling a little and singing some tuneless little song. She looked so relaxed and happy that she made me feel good just looking at her.

"Howdy," she grinned, her eyes still closed.

"How did you know it was me? It could have been a murderer or a dog."

"I could say I smelt you," she giggled, "but I just know the way you walk. We're going to Geraldton tomorrow."

"What for?"

She opened her eyes and shot a look at me. "Mum and Ray have seen a house they like, and they want to show it to us to see what we think."

I laughed, a short, derisive blast of contempt. "Yeah, like they really give a c.r.a.p what we care."

She pushed herself up till she was looking straight at me. Funny how much she was starting to look like Mum. "Give it a rest, Luca. It's gonna happen, and it'll be heaps better than here. We won't have to catch a bus every day, there's more to do in Geraldton, and we'll have a nicer house than this old dump."

"I like this house," I said, staring back at her just as hard as she was glaring at me. "It's our home."

"Well, not for much longer," she sniffed, sliding down off the veranda. "Besides, it was never Ray's house. It's natural that he wants to live in his own place with his own wife."

"Not his own wife!" I yelled as she turned away from me. "He didn't have his own wife'; he came and took Dad's."

She turned and looked at me but kept walking away. "Sing another song, Luca. That one's boring."

Furious, I ran at her retreating back and shoved her as hard as I could. She sprawled face down into the gravel and lay there. The only sound in that horrible silence was my harsh breathing, and then she pushed herself up, brushed off the bits of gravel sticking into her hands and legs, and turned to look at me. Her nose was bleeding, and blood was trickling from both knees. I couldn't move; I'd never done anything like that before to anyone, let alone to her. We stared at each other, and then I heard the wire door bang.

"Katy! What on earth..." It was Mum, standing there, drying her hands on a tea towel.

"It's nothing, Mum," Katy said. "I just stacked it."

Mum jumped down from the veranda and put her arms around Katy. "Come in, and I'll put something on your knees and face. Oh, Katy, look at those hands! "

They stood there, Mum's back to me, her T-s.h.i.+rt loose over her tight jeans, and Katy's eyes burning into mine over Mum's shoulder. I wanted to run and put my arms around her too, even around Mum, so that everything would be good again and we'd laugh and go inside and have something luscious to eat and that warm, happy feeling of belonging would come back. But of course, I didn't move, and Katy's eyes closed as Mum turned her towards the house and they both climbed up the steps slowly and disappeared through the door.

That night in bed, I could see that Katy's bed lamp was on. I thought that she must have been reading or on her laptop in bed. I lay there, willing myself to say the words, and then out they came.

"Sorry, Katy."

There was no answer. I thought she must have gone to sleep and left the light on, but a couple of minutes later, the room clicked into darkness. I lay there feeling cold. I was alone, and it was all my fault. I looked at the clouds scudding across the inky darkness. The moon shone clearly through my window, and I looked down at the white sheet covering me. I only seemed to make a small b.u.mp in the moonlight. I wished we were younger and Katy would come snuggling under the covers with me again as my other half. We made a fairly big b.u.mp together, but alone, I saw I was nothing.

If Katy had been caught in the middle, somewhere between understanding how I felt and at the same time understanding Mum, it was over. The lines were drawn. We talked again almost normally after a few days, but something was gone. The impossible had happened. Katy and I, once two sides of the same coin, were separate people.

We got into the back of Ray Reid's car the next day with him and Mum up the front like they were married already and drove to Geraldton. We went down the gravel road and then left past the Greenough flats, where the trees, bent almost to the ground by the strong sea winds, looked like women on a battlefield stretching towards the ground, looking at their dead, their shapes fluid and gaunt. We drove past them and past the farms scattered along the way till the houses started appearing near the road instead of set well back like the farms. The houses cl.u.s.tered thicker until we were in the town itself.

We drove through the main street, out past the memorial, and there, half-way up a hill, was a two-storey house with a For Sale' sign and a short, fat man in a suit standing out the front. Reid pulled into the drive, and we got out. I turned away from the house and saw that there was a clear view of the ocean curving away from both sides of the marina.

I trailed along behind as we went through the house, with Katy and Mum ooh-ing and ah-ing at every turn. I had to grudgingly admit it was a nice place: there were four bedrooms and big windows at the front where you could see above the roof across to the ocean, which stretched away to the horizon, the sun glittering off the crest of each ripple. I sat down on the front step and gazed at that view and then got up and sat in the car. No matter how nice it was, I didn't want anything from him, although I imagined the money from the sale of our house-the house Dad had bought-would come at least part of the way to covering the cost of this one. Katy came bursting out of the front door, and Mum and Reid stood talking to the fat agent.

"Isn't it amazing, Luca?" Katy called out to me. "We've got our own bedrooms with a bathroom just for us in-between. I love it!" She ran in circles on the lawn like a little kid. I turned away in disgust. Well, he's bought her, that's for sure-and from the smile on Mum's face, the deal's done.

We packed up to move six weeks later. It was frightening how small the pile of packing boxes was from our home when we left. With the shed empty of Dad's stuff, there was really only our clothes and a bit of kitchen stuff.

"We're going to have all new stuff," Reid said one night after tea. "New lounges, new tables, chairs, beds, everything-for a new life." Katy and Mum sat snuggled up on the lounge, going through a pile of those house and garden-type magazines, their voices murmuring with the turn of each page.

We started high school two weeks before we moved, so we had those weeks of riding the bus to school with our friends. We'd clamber on each morning and rattle off down the road, past the waist-high wheat and past the dried pasture land dotted with cl.u.s.ters of dirty-white sheep and brown and white cows, skirting the main part of town till the bus pulled up outside the school gates. We'd jump down the steps, keen to be moving. Gary and I stuck together, feeling conspicuous in our crisp new uniforms and longing for them to look rumpled and worn-in like the older kids seemed to be.

The first day, we were gathered together onto a gra.s.s quadrangle, and then in a long, tedious calling out of names, we were allocated to various cla.s.ses according to how smart the teachers thought we were. My name was called out early, and I went into the top cla.s.s. I glanced across at Katy, but her head was down. She was clearly going into a lower cla.s.s.

Luckily, a few kids I knew were in my cla.s.s, so we grabbed desks near each other. Part of me longed for the familiarity of my old school, but the sense of strangeness here was overcome by the excitement of change. I had thought I'd feel grown up going to high school, but we were at the bottom of the food chain here. The other boys were big and loud, and a lot of the girls looked like women, gathered in squealing groups or walking quietly in pairs.

Within a week, though, I felt more comfortable. The moving from room to room and teacher to teacher took a bit of getting used to, but as I got to know my way around, I started enjoying it.

We moved soon after. The last thing I packed into the trailer was the tool chest Dad had left me. It was too heavy for me to lift alone, so I lay a cloth down on the shed floor and carefully put the heavier things on it. As I dragged the chest awkwardly towards the trailer, Reid came out into the backyard.

"Here, give that to me," he said.

"I'm okay," I mumbled. As I walked back to the shed to pick up the other tools, I realised he was behind me. I crouched down on the ground, wrapping the cloth around the tools to carry them out too.

"Just a minute, Luca. I want to talk to you."

I stood, Dad's long Philips screwdriver still in my hand, and turned to face Ray. He'd never been in here as far as I knew, and I hated that he was leaning so casually on Dad's old bench.

"I've just about had enough of you. You'd better change your tune, or things are not going to be too good for you when we move. I don't have to put up with a bad-mannered little s.h.i.+t in my own home."

"I have to put up with you in mine," I answered as calmly as I could.

Ray took a step towards me, his fists clenched by his side and his face twisted in a sneer. "That precious father of yours should have given you a few clips around the ear to knock that att.i.tude out of you."

"Don't you mention my father," I growled, starting to breathe hard. "I had no att.i.tude', as you call it, with him." I was panting now. "And you shouldn't even mention him. You didn't know him, never met him. All you did was sneak in here like a mangy dog when his back was turned." I couldn't believe what I had said, but it felt so good saying it.

Ray stepped closer, and his hand shot out. I was slammed into the tin wall of the shed with a clang, and I fell to my knees. My head was spinning, but I stood up and faced him, the screwdriver turned towards him and my arm raised.

"Keep away from me!" I rasped. Hot tears of rage mixed with pain blurred my vision for a minute, but I brushed them quickly away. We stood there, facing each other, his fist still up and my screwdriver pointing right at his stomach. I saw the fury in his face, the redness spreading down his neck, and the seconds ticked on, our breathing loud but slowing in the cool dimness.

His fist dropped. "You just go on thinking he was such a saint. Where is he now? How much of a father was he just to take off and never see you or your sister again? How much do you think he cares about you if he doesn't even bother to pick up a phone and talk to you, let alone actually come and see you?"

There was no answer. What could I say? The pain of hearing those words actually said out loud was worse than the throbbing in my face and neck.

"He just slid out of here like a mangy dog," Ray said slowly, a nasty little grin on his face. "Who's really the dog, eh?"

I lunged blindly at him, my hand tight on the screwdriver. He leapt to one side and shoved me hard. I fell awkwardly, and then I felt his big body crus.h.i.+ng me under him, one hand pus.h.i.+ng the side of my face into the rough floor of the shed, the other one holding my wrist. The iron taste of blood was in my mouth, but the greatest pain was in my hand. He'd bent my fingers back till I could hold on no longer, and the screwdriver slid to the ground. He flicked the screwdriver away and twisted my arm up behind my back, his hot breath blasting me as he shoved his face down to my ear.

"Listen, you little p.r.i.c.k, I'm here to stay. I've got your mother, I've got your sister and unfortunately, I've got you. But it's not me who doesn't belong here; it's you. The rest of us get on just fine. You're the only rotten apple in this particular barrel. All I can say is hurry up and grow up and then p.i.s.s off. You're not wanted here. We're happier when you're not around." The weight suddenly lifted from my body as he stood up. I pushed myself up painfully but kept my face blank. I slowly brushed away the dirt that had been ground into the side of my face, clenching my teeth and glaring at his sweating, smug face.

"So, sonny, get a few things clear. I pay the bills. Remember that. You're just a snotty little kid who I can't stomach and who came with the package. Keep out of my way. Stay out as much as you like. You can sleep under my roof and eat at my table, but as soon as you finish Year Ten, p.i.s.s off and don't come back. Go off and try to find your loser father, live under a bridge in Perth-I don't give a d.a.m.n. I'll put up with you till then, but I tell you one thing." He paused, stepping closer to me, pus.h.i.+ng that face I loathed so much right into mine, and to my horror, I'd involuntarily flinched away.

He laughed and then went on. "You raise a hand to me again, and I'll break your neck." He turned away then, brus.h.i.+ng the dirt from his trousers and tucking in his s.h.i.+rt. Bending to the ground, he scooped up the screwdriver from where it lay against the leg of the bench.

"I'll keep this one as a souvenir," Ray said, and without another word, he stepped out of the shed. I stood there, pain shooting through my hand, my head and my face, but the greatest pain was knowing how powerless I was. For one mad moment, the thought surged through my brain that I would run away, thumb a lift to Perth, find Dad somehow. But the little fantasy dissolved at that point. What if I couldn't find him? Or worse, what if I found him and also found that he didn't want me around anymore than Katy and Mum did.

I stayed for a long time in that shed, so many feelings coursing through me at once that I couldn't think clearly, and then a shadow flickered near the door and stopped. It was Mum, standing there, peering into the dimness. She never came in here.

"There you are, Luca! Hurry up! We're in the car, waiting to go."

I lurched across to the tools, bending down stiffly to finish wrapping them up. G.o.d, it seemed like hours ago since I'd started this. I picked up the bulky roll clumsily and put it in the trailer and then slid in beside Katy, who just kept reading her magazine.

"Right then," Reid said, his voice chirpy, "We're on our way." We pulled away from the house, and I willed myself not to look back.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Life has become almost, well... pleasant. I don't really know if that's the word, but instead of feeling I'm being tossed around in some wild storm at sea-getting battered, going under, wondering if it might just be better to give up and sink to the bottom-now it's like I'm floating on calm water. Nothing much really disturbs me like before. I don't have time to think about what's happened. I have an answer for every rotten thought that pops into my head: be too busy to think. The dark days and nights going over and over what I had done are gone. Every waking minute is taken up-no slack time, no time to brood, no time to feel.

Straight out of bed when I wake up, stretches, push-ups, sit-ups, lunges, breakfast, school, lunch, trades, gym, duties, clean-up, tea, hanging out with Aaron and Archie in the rec, lockdown at 7.30, showering, studying or reading till 10, falling into bed, and sleeping like a rock till it all starts again the next morning. I'm getting through the work so quickly that Mrs s.h.i.+els calls me aside and says, "You're moving so far ahead of the cla.s.s that I think you would do better working towards doing your Tertiary Entrance Exam. I've mentioned it to Mr Khan, and he wants to talk it over with you. Would you like to see him now, or do you want to think it over?"

I'm a bit stunned, really. I know I'm way ahead of the other kids, but I'm pretty comfortable in this cla.s.s. The idea of actually getting stuck into all the subjects at TEE-level is pretty mind-blowing. But then Archie's words in the gym that day echo through my mind: "You got something better to be doing, white boy?" Maybe this is something to divert my mind even more. The idea of those exams at the end of the year is scary; it's one thing to feel you're doing well in a small group, but it's different to actually putting yourself to the test against thousands of other kids who've been plugging away without interruptions like court and remand centre! What if I totally bomb? I shrug inwardly. So what? Who'd know or care? Only me.

"Thanks, Mrs Sheils, but how can I be a cla.s.s of one?"

"Mr Khan will sort that out," Mrs s.h.i.+els says, smiling. She opens the door and speaks to the guard. The boys in the cla.s.s are sitting in groups of four, their desks turned in towards one another, reading a play. Some voices stumble, but no one seems to be getting impatient. The group nearest me has suddenly gone quiet, and then a chorus of voices starts up. "Ben, it's your turn! You're supposed to be Victor! Keep up, ya k.n.o.b!" but they all laugh good-naturedly, including Ben.

The only one in the cla.s.s who isn't doing anything is Brown. He sits slumped in his seat, arms folded across his heavy gut, his face set and brooding. What's going on inside that mind of his? As the thought crosses my mind, he glances up from under that heavy brow and our eyes lock. His lip starts to curl in its customary sneer and then stops. Our gaze holds, and I see a strange expression cross his face. What is it? It's almost like he is in awful pain, and then Mrs s.h.i.+els calls me. The guard nods, and I walk up to Mr Khan's office alone and tap on the door.

"Come in." The door clicks behind me as I step inside, and Mr Khan motions to the chair opposite his desk. His hands are folded on the desk, his nails clipped, his skin smooth and brown.

Looking him squarely in the face, I say, "Mrs s.h.i.+els said you wanted to see me." I want to take control here for some reason; I feel the need to be something other than another waster pa.s.sing through.

Mr Khan smiles slightly and then says, "She is very impressed with you. Based on what I've heard about you, so am I." He looks down, his hands rolling a heavy gold pen backwards and forwards. The clock on the wall behind his desk ticks slowly, and then he s.h.i.+fts a little in his chair, leans back and puts the pen to one side.

"The only problem I can see is that you have chosen not to take up the option of speaking to a counsel or. It is actually not an option; it's a requirement for all the boys here. The reason I haven't forced the issue with you is because I know you refused to say a word to the court-appointed one while you were on remand. I antic.i.p.ated you would do the same here, and I haven't staff at my disposal to waste on anyone. Are you ready to speak to one now?"

I lean back in my chair as he had done and fold my arms. "There's no point. There is no deep, dark secret in my past. I know what I've done, why I did it and that I've got to pay for it."

He nods thoughtfully, his eyes hooded. "That's a very heavy burden to carry around alone. Talking to someone about it helps many people."

I shake my head, irritated. "Can anyone take the fact-or burden, as you call it-off me that I have killed two people, one of them my own mother?" There is no answer, and we sit there, those hideous words hanging in the air between us.

After a while, Mr Khan sighs and says quietly, "As you like, Luca, but that wasn't the only reason I wanted to speak to you. I really wanted to congratulate you on your effort in cla.s.s. Mrs s.h.i.+els believes you have the capacity to sit your exams at the end of the year. If you would like to do that, there are several things I can to do to make that happen. Firstly, you may not be aware of it, but there are four boys here doing their TEE this year. They are all older than you, between 17 and 23."

"Twenty-three!" I burst in. "That's not a juvenile!"