May

by Gabrielle Lord

  I remembered again watching Winter sprint over to the car that was cruising near the gates of Memorial Park.

  ‘So they think you’re helping them out?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m not. I’m helping you. And now we’ve gotta quit the chit chat and get you outta here.’

  ‘Right,’ nodded Boges.

  With Winter and my best buddy with me, the world seemed a little less bleak.

  ‘OK, so let’s hear it,’ I said.

  Winter glanced over at Gilda, who was sitting at a table on the other side of the room near the door. Her head was bowed over the charts she was writing on and she seemed completely absorbed in her work.

  ‘We’ve brought extra clothes. I have another set in my bag,’ she said in a low voice, ‘almost identical to what I’m wearing—’

  ‘Minus the bells on the skirt,’ Boges noted.

  ‘And we have a wig for you,’ she continued, ‘the same colour as my hair.’

  Cautiously, she opened the top of the embroidered bag. I leaned forward to see a mass of wild, dark hair sitting on the top of some clothes.

  I looked at both of them. I felt my jaw dropping.

  ‘You want me to dress like a girl?’

  ‘You’ve got it in one,’ Boges laughed.

  ‘After you’ve gone to the bathroom to change, you’ll just casually walk out with Boges,’ Winter said. ‘If you keep your head down and my sunglasses on, there’s a very good chance no-one will take the slightest notice of you.’

  Surreptitiously, she passed me her long cardigan, beanie and sunglasses. I noticed that she was wearing a hoodie, similar to the one I had on.

  ‘But what about you?’ I asked. ‘What will you do once we’re gone?’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask,’ she said, with a wry smile. ‘You needn’t worry about me. I’ll stay nice and quiet right here, looking like I’m reading a book or something and by the time they work out what’s happened, you’ll be safely away.’

  ‘And then?’ I asked, imagining myself on the run in a skirt and wig.

  ‘And then,’ she repeated, ‘I don’t know. I’m pretty good at talking my way out of tricky situations.’

  I ran the idea around in my mind. It was crazy, just crazy enough to work. I’d never have another chance like this one. I was jumpy with excitement and fear. But then I thought of something and turned to Winter.

  ‘What about Sligo? He’ll be furious when he hears about this. Especially your part in it.’

  She gave me another one of her cool smiles. ‘Leave Sligo to me,’ she said. ‘I’m not about to go and get myself in trouble. I know how to look after myself. I’m not stupid.’

  ‘Come on, dude,’ Boges urged, ‘what are you waiting for?’

  At the back of the room were male and female toilets for the use of visitors. I discreetly pointed them out to Boges.

  Slowly, Winter lifted the bag from her shoulders and quietly passed it to me, out of sight. I tucked it under my arm, stood up casually, then strolled to the back of the room towards the women’s toilet, hoping there was no-one in there. Gilda looked up and then returned to her notes, without even noticing me.

  In the toilet cubicle, I kicked off my jeans, T-shirt and hoodie, and awkwardly stepped into the purple skirt, pulling it up around my waist. I squeezed myself into the little black singlet and cardigan, and lastly pulled the wig on, tugging the two small tags on each side. It fitted tightly onto my head and I felt completely weird having long strands of wild hair hanging down my face. I hadn’t worn a dress since I’d been a shepherd in a kindergarten play.

  I grabbed the Ben Galloway IDs from my jeans pocket and shoved them down the front of my top.

  I stepped out of the cubicle, saw myself in the mirror and almost laughed! Once I’d put the heart-shaped, red sunglasses on, and pulled the knitted beanie down low over my forehead, it could have been Winter Frey staring back at me—if you didn’t look too closely!

  I hurried to the door of the toilets and opened it slightly, looking over to where Gilda was sitting, and where Boges and Winter waited, close together near the window, faces turned away. Winter had tied her thick, dark hair to the side, furthest away from sight, in a tight bun.

  I walked over to the two by the window slowly, keeping my steps small.

  Boges grinned, his eyes filled with amusement, as I sat beside him.

  ‘Not bad at all,’ whispered Winter, as she checked me out, too.

  Gilda glanced over at us for a moment and then returned to her work.

  ‘See? She hasn’t noticed anything unusual,’ Winter continued. ‘Let’s not waste any more time. I’ll stay here while you two casually leave. Cal, don’t walk so heavily. And don’t take such big strides. By the way, you look great!’

  ‘Like your double?’ I joked.

  Her expression immediately changed. ‘No,’ she whispered, shrinking back. ‘Don’t say that.’

  I didn’t have time to wonder why that idea freaked her out so much—my whole body was shaking with excitement at the possibility that we might just pull this off.

  Boges stood up and made out like he was saying goodbye to me, except the ‘me’ was Winter, who stayed seated with her back to us.

  ‘OK, honey, time you and I made tracks,’ said Boges. He raised his voice a little for Gilda’s benefit.

  ‘See ya, Ben,’ he waved. ‘We’ll be back again soon.’

  We walked away and I waved back too in what I hoped was a girlie way.

  Now for the last really tricky part, I thought, as we walked over to Gilda near the door. Boges had intentionally placed himself closest to her. She looked up as we approached and even smiled, nodding goodbye to us. Boges turned towards her and waved his arm, half hiding me from her view. I kept my head down as we stepped into the hallway.

  It took all my self-control not to break into a run as we neared the double glass doors. The orderly in the office near the exit looked up as we pushed through them. Boges kept casually chatting away to me. I had no idea, and didn’t care, what he was saying—I was focused entirely on taking each step softly and convincingly. My heart was thumping and I could feel the sweat breaking out on my face.

  We stepped outside into the day and walked along together towards the tall green gates. Every moment, I was expecting to hear someone yell after me. I realised I’d been holding my breath almost since we’d said goodbye to Winter in the recreation room. I took a deep breath and Boges slipped an arm around my waist, slowing me down, because I was starting to hurry.

  ‘Easy does it, sweetheart,’ he said.

  ‘Let’s get out of here!’ I hissed under my breath.

  ‘All in good time, dude—or should I say dudette,’ said Boges. ‘We’ve made it this far, let’s not mess it up now.’

  I was just starting to relax when I heard voices.

  ‘Just act normal!’ Boges commanded between gritted teeth.

  ‘Let go of me! I gotta run! They’re coming after me!’

  ‘Hey!’ called out a voice from behind us.

  ‘I’m busted, Boges!’

  I tore myself away from him and took off into the street, the purple skirt flying everywhere, the hair slapping me across the face as I ran, the long cardigan flapping in the wind.

  But no-one tried to stop me, no-one came after me to tackle me down. The only person coming after me was Boges.

  ‘It’s OK!’ said Boges, puffing up to me. ‘She was just bringing this!’

  I stopped and turned around to see an orderly in the distance, already on her way back through the entrance again. In Boges’s hand was Winter’s embroidered bag. I must have left it in the women’s toilet. Luckily she hadn’t asked Boges any questions about my odd dash down the street.

  As soon as we reached a group of shops I hurried into the public toilets and ditched Winter’s clothes. I changed back into what I was wearing earlier, and threw on a new hoodie Boges gave to me.

  ‘I think I liked you better the other way!’ joked Boges as I
rejoined him outside.

  ‘Too bad,’ I said. ‘Seriously, though, I can’t believe I’m out. I thought I was going to be stuck in there forever. Thanks … for everything. You are the best buddy a guy could ever have.’

  It was true. Boges was my anchorman. He was my only connection to my old world. He was my news channel, bringing me information about Mum and Gabbi. He was my lifeline. There were so many things that I owed him.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Boges. ‘I just hope Winter made it out OK. Anyway,’ he said, pulling his backpack off his shoulder, ‘this is yours. All your dad’s stuff is in there, plus the Riddle. There’s some money in the back pocket, plus a new—well, a new old—phone. Your phone wasn’t in your bag when I went back to the boathouse.’

  ‘No, I had it on me. Leechwood Lodge has it now. You are the best,’ I said, slinging the backpack on, wincing as it knocked against the tender spot on my shoulder.

  ‘I know, I know. Just do me a favour and don’t leave the bag behind again—ever. If Sligo gets hold of what you’ve found out already …’

  ‘I’m disposable again, right?’

  ‘I didn’t want to say that,’ said Boges.

  ‘I know it. I haven’t forgotten how quick he was to have me tossed in the oil tank. He’s going to go psycho when he realises I escaped from Leechwood. And Winter could be dead for helping me,’ I said, ‘unless she’s up to something herself. How will she explain it to him?’

  ‘I don’t think you need to worry about her,’ said Boges. ‘I don’t think Sligo’s going to find out. She knows how to look after herself. She is one smart babe. I’m almost starting to believe that she just might be playing for the right team.’

  ‘But you still don’t completely trust her?’ I asked.

  ‘I want to, and I’m pretty sure she’s cool, but I don’t fully trust people whose motives I don’t understand,’ Boges replied. ‘Sligo’s been her guardian—taken her under his wing after she was orphaned, given her a home—so why would she be so against him? Yeah, she knows he’s a bad guy, but you’d think she’d be a little more … forgiving or something.’

  Before heading out to the highway, we ducked into a new internet cafe—Boges convinced me we’d be OK—and I checked my blog. There were heaps of new messages of support—I could hardly believe how many.

  There were some shocking ones in there too. I stopped myself from reading most of them, but one guy’s messages—a guy who called himself ‘lock_him_up’—were pretty hard to ignore.

  I felt gutted.

  ‘Ignore it,’ said Boges on seeing my reaction. ‘You already know there are a lot of people who aren’t behind you, but you have to focus on those who are on your side, and, more importantly, sorting this mess out so that you can prove your innocence. Quick, type up your message, and let’s get off this blog.’

  ‘You finished?’

  I nodded.

  Boges pushed me out of the way, taking over the computer. ‘OK, I’ve got something to show you,’ he said. ‘I’ve drawn a bit of a blank on the last two lines of the Riddle, but I did find something that mentioned the Ormond Singularity.’

  I leaned forward, watching while Boges hit a website.

  ‘It was mentioned within all this stuff. Ancient statutes.’

  ‘Statutes? Like laws?’ I asked, as Boges scrolled down the Justice Department’s website.

  ‘Oh, someone’s been listening in Legal Studies!’ Boges joked as he clicked on a hyperlink. He stopped laughing, awkwardly, as we both thought about how long it had been since I’d seen the inside of a classroom. ‘Yes, it’s another name for a law that’s written down,’ he continued.

  ‘OK, and what does that mean?’ I asked. ‘Was there anything on what the Ormond Singularity is actually about?’

  ‘Only that it’s something to do with gifts and it’s on its way out. The latest statute, the one issued in 1573, is due to be repealed at midnight at the end of this year!’

  I swore. December 31st. Three hundred and sixty-five days. ‘It’s over, finished, at midnight the end of this year?’

  ‘That’s right. Whatever it means now, it means nothing after that date. Now that I know a few new details, I’ll keep searching for more info,’ said Boges. ‘Oh no,’ he hissed. ‘Look what’s stuck on the wall over there!’

  Right above the payment desk near the door was a grainy close-up poster of yours truly. It was a bigger version of the ones I’d seen in another internet café a while back.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll go and pay the guy,’ whispered Boges. ‘You’d better just walk out. I’ll meet you near the clock tower.’

  I didn’t have to hang around the clock tower for very long before I saw Boges puffing his way towards me. I was getting skinnier by the day while he was getting rounder.

  ‘Do you think he recognised me?’ I asked when Boges pulled up beside me.

  ‘Not sure, dude. But it’s definitely time for you to get out of town. And this time I mean it!’

  We both started walking through a light drizzle, heading for the highway and the chance of a ride for me. The traffic was slow because of the rain but all the time I was looking over my shoulder, scared that I’d see a black Subaru, or a dark blue Mercedes.

  While walking towards the highway, Boges and I talked through ideas about how we could find out more information to help us solve the DMO.

  ‘I don’t even know if Jennifer Smith has tried to get in touch with me,’ I said, ‘since I lost my other phone.’

  ‘That sucks,’ Boges puffed. ‘There’s gotta be important information on your dad’s memory stick. Maybe I’ll try her at Labtech. If she’s not there any more, they might be able to give me a forwarding address or something.’

  It was good to know that Boges was on the job just like I was. I remembered the odd incident Jennifer had told me about—my dad asking for the book Treasure Island and throwing it on the floor when the nurse gave a copy to him. Even though I didn’t expect any amazing insight, I told Boges about it.

  ‘I don’t know what to make of that,’ said Boges. ‘He was pretty sick by then, wasn’t he? Probably just confused. What about that Eric guy who worked with your dad? Could you try once more to get in touch with him?’

  ‘Yep, I can try him at Dad’s old work again. That shouldn’t be too hard.’

  ‘Let’s hope your great-uncle in the country will be able to help us with more information,’ said Boges. ‘On the Singularity, the Riddle, the drawings. Anything he knows would be good. That’s if you get there without the cops picking you up first.’

  Eager to get to Great-uncle Bartholomew’s as soon as I could, I picked up the pace, jogging towards the highway.

  Boges was getting tired so we slowed down and walked the few remaining blocks to the highway.

  ‘You haven’t had much luck hitching rides, Cal,’ Boges said as he panted along beside me. ‘You sure you want to try it again?’

  ‘Don’t know if I have much choice. Hopefully all my bad luck’s out of the way,’ I said with a nervous laugh.

  Boges gave me one of his bear hugs, then whacked me on the back, farewelling me.

  ‘Stay outta trouble, now, will ya?’ he laughed. Now he was the one who sounded nervous. ‘I’ll keep researching what I can, and message you if I find out anything. Keep in touch, OK. Don’t leave me hanging.’

  226 days to go …

  I stood in the rain, sodden and cold, trying to work out what move to make next. There’d been such a massive downpour after Boges left me yesterday that I had to abandon my hitchhiking plans and run from the road to find shelter for the night. I ended up sleeping huddled in the fire stairs of an old apartment block, trying to ignore the fact that it stank like a toilet.

  This morning I jumped on a bus that was going straight up the highway, and was taken at least a couple of hours closer to where I wanted to be. I hopped off just after it turned onto a major exit, and I’d been wandering along near the highway,
in the cold drizzle, ever since.

  I was so glad that Dad’s drawings and the Ormond Riddle were safe in their plastic folder in my new backpack. Boges had also collected the guardian angel pin that Repro had given me, and I’d pinned it near the neck of my T-shirt, just under my hoodie. Repro said it had helped him—I figured it might help me finally find my way to Mount Helicon. So far it had brought me the bus, which had saved me hours and hours of walking.

  The drizzle was becoming heavier. I didn’t know if anyone on the road could even see me, but they definitely weren’t interested in slowing down to offer me a ride.

  The weather had eased up, but now night had settled in. I was already looking for somewhere to camp, counting on hitching a ride the rest of the way in the morning.

  A strange feeling of déjà vu suddenly came over me.

  I started recognising where I was. I remembered this place. I’d been here before.

  ‘Tom!’ Melba cried happily, when she peered through her screen door and realised it was me shivering there.

  ‘Mrs Snipe!’ I said, just as happy to see her kind face.

  ‘Come in, come in! My goodness you look like a drowned rat! Sit down, dear. Let me grab you a blanket and a cuppa.’

  I was back in the old floral house with its green-tinted walls and proud picture frames, and it felt good. Timmy, the yappy little dog, came flying down the hallway to see what was going on.

  ‘Here,’ said Melba, returning from the closet with a big, woollen blanket. She draped it over me. ‘Oh, get down, Timmy,’ she said, brushing the wild ball of fur away. ‘I’ve been thinking of you, Tom, ever since you left here that day—whatever happened with your poor little sister?’