Then Jake shines the torch into his face
and I see him smiling, and he winks
and rolls around laughing at his joke
until he bumps his ankle and screams in pain.
‘Serves yourself right!’ I say.
He holds his ankle
but can’t resist saying,
‘It’s okay.
I’ll get over Santa,
eventually!’
I threaten to hit him,
but instead I lean over
and kiss him on the lips
and it’s a nice kiss.
I blush
and he kisses me back
and that’s a nice kiss as well.
Lucy: blushes
Bloody hell.
Where did that come from?
I’ve never kissed anyone before.
But, it was either hit Jake
or kiss him.
So I chose.
I hope I chose right.
It felt good too.
Kind of warm and soft
and I could feel the blood
rushing around my body,
not sure where to go,
filling up my veins with heat.
We let our lips linger
for long enough to enjoy.
I blushed
and he kissed me back.
Bloody hell.
What happens now?
EIGHT
This is what happens
Jake: what wolf?
I can smell the eucalyptus
as we kiss.
I press my face into her long hair
as we move together
without speaking.
My arms are tight
around Lucy
and we’re so close
it’s almost overwhelming.
The warmth,
the sweet smell of her hair,
the touch of her body inside my arms,
the sound of our breathing.
If I had a choice between
a fractured ankle and
a night in the cave with Lucy
or
a guarantee to find the wolf,
I’d look at myself in the mirror
and say,
‘Wolf? What wolf?’
Lucy: for good
This is what happens.
One thing,
one simple thing.
And you know
when it happens
that it’s going to break
everything that’s come before.
I know it.
I can tell.
Don’t laugh at me,
like I’m a dumb teenager
with my first kiss.
That’s bullshit.
I’ve seen things
that I knew, there and then,
were going to get to me.
I’ve seen bad
thundering through our house
and it made my stomach churn
and every muscle in my body
grow tense like cold wire.
I’ve hidden under the house
in the dirt
like a cornered animal
waiting for the jaws
to snap shut.
I was powerless to stop his rampage.
I don’t want to feel like that anymore.
That kiss from Jake changes everything.
It changes everything for good.
Jake: it doesn’t matter
Lucy stands
and walks into the darkness
at the back of the cave.
It’s so quiet I can hear her breathing.
She says,
‘I lied, Jake.
About knowing where the wolf lived.
I’m sorry.
I thought if there was a wolf,
he’d live somewhere like here.
I didn’t come looking for your wolf.’
I’ve spent years dreaming about his lair.
I knew he prowled Beaumont Hill
searching for food,
or a mate,
but when Lucy told me of Sheldon Mountain,
it seemed right.
Somewhere mysterious,
hidden from everyone.
I wanted to find the wolf.
To prove it to myself,
and to Dad.
But now, maybe it doesn’t matter.
I’m glad Lucy’s here,
even if she didn’t come for the wolf.
‘Lucy, why?’
Lucy: the soaking
I gently place my backpack under Jake’s heel
to give him something to rest his ankle on.
I lean in close to tell him a story,
to explain . . .
‘One day, last year,
I was walking home from Hopkins Bridge.
Thunder rumbled over Beaumont Hill
as the rain poured down.
I was in for a soaking,
with nowhere to hide.
Suddenly,
lightning struck a tree
in the paddock right beside me.
It split the tree in two
as if it was kindling
falling across the track
with a sad creaking dive.
I could have run;
Peter would have,
crying all the way home.
‘You know what I did?
I walked to the paddock
where the tree was struck.
I lay down in the bristling wet grass
and watched the clouds battle across the sky.
Have you ever watched raindrops
falling straight towards you?
It’s like you’re lifted into the storm.
There’s just you and the sky.
I wasn’t scared.
I was in the storm.
It was freedom.
It was worth the soaking.
‘I wanted to be free, Jake.’
Jake: real
I’m a normal teenage boy.
I look at all the girls
on television,
in movies,
in soaps,
in magazines.
These girls with their clean hair,
gleaming white teeth
and flawless skin,
they shine like glossy varnish
has been painted on them.
Lucy didn’t feel like I imagined.
She felt soft
and firm
at the same time
and as we kissed
I felt her getting warmer,
responding to me.
It was the most magical thing
I’ve ever known.
Lucy is beautiful,
but not like those fantasy girls.
Lucy is real.
Jake: Lucy and me
When Lucy held her hair back
I leant in close
and started kissing her again.
Simple.
I’m not saying much more
about what we did.
You don’t tell people those things.
It’s not right, to say.
We lay there,
kissing,
getting warmer,
and everything in my past
just disappeared:
the farm and the long driveway,
the chook shed and the eggs every morning,
Mum drinking tea on the verandah,
Patch and Spud barking,
the magpies ringing from the trees,
Wolli Creek bubbling over the rocks,
Dad coming in from the paddocks, humming,
the wolf,
all gone.
It was Lucy and me.
It was like getting lost in the bush
and being happy to wander;
to enjoy the sounds and smells
and to touch each tree, each shrub.
I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense.
It’s how I feel.
It’s Lucy and me.
Lucy: think good things
I’m not telling anybody anything.
Think what you like,
why would I care?
Jake and me
did what we did.
If only you could see
the grin on my face.
I’m glad it’s dark
so I can smile away to myself
like some half-crazy fool.
And I know why Jake’s dad
looks after his farm and his family.
It came to me
when Jake and me were . . .
you know.
It’s the place where good things happen,
where you feel at home.
Sacred ground, if you like.
And, for me, that’s this cave.
I’m not saying everything is rosy now.
Nothing’s that easy.
But, now I know,
I’m normal.
Maybe a little special.
At least, special to someone.
I’m not saying anything more.
You can imagine it.
Think good things, okay?
Lucy: one smart old lady
Grandma once told me
Mum didn’t want to marry Dad,
she had to.
Pregnant.
With me.
He was some wild boy passing through.
And because Grandpa didn‘t approve,
they had to live in town until I was born.
Then Grandma took pity on us
after Grandpa died
and made us come and live on the farm.
Me a little baby
and Mum learning to be a mum.
And Dad?
He spent all day in the yard,
smoking and sitting around
waiting for nothing to happen.
Grandma ran the farm
like she always had,
even when Grandpa was alive.
And like the locust plague,
we settled on the farm
and made it our own.
Me and Superman grew up,
wondering why Dad and Grandma
didn’t talk much to each other.
But then Grandma,
she was always one smart old lady.
Lucy: what do I say?
I kneel down beside Jake
and say what I’ve got to say,
about parents.
I start with slaps
turning into the leather strap
hard across my legs.
I don’t stop.
I say more than I meant to
and less than I want,
but enough.
Jake doesn’t move,
his arm around my shoulder
as I speak in this urgent whisper
until it’s all done.
And then I cry.
You won’t believe this:
I’ve never cried in front of someone.
Never.
I used to think it was weakness.
And now I’ve started, I don’t stop.
Jake holds me gently.
I cry years’ worth of tears
in one night.
Jake keeps holding me,
whispering,
‘Lucy’,
over and over.
I feel better
hearing Jake’s voice
and my name.
Jake: real pain
What Lucy is feeling,
that’s real pain.
The sort that stabs and pounds
and makes you shake with anger.
My ankle, it’s just an injury.
It’ll go away in a few weeks
and I’ll probably never think of it again.
I stroke Lucy’s hair
and repeat her name,
hoping my voice can ease the hurt.
I hold her in my arms
where she’s safe
and I try hard not to think about tomorrow
when she’ll have to go home
because of me
and my useless ankle.
Lucy: dreams
It seems like ages,
but finally I fall asleep
and dream of being far away.
I’m on my island
with Jake
and we’re swimming in a clear lagoon
and yes, there are coconuts and palm trees
and we’re naked!
Can you believe that?
Swimming in warm water
without a stitch on.
The sand is blinding white
under our toes
and we can see rainbow fish.
You can say all you like
about me reading too many books
and dreaming of the Trobriands –
the islands, I mean,
not the sex-mad girls!
I don’t care.
It was a good dream.
It was a dream you should have
when you’re sixteen years old.
It was a dream with Jake in it.
Jake and me.
It was better than most dreams I’ve had.
Jake: close by
Lucy’s head snuggles
into my shoulder.
I can just see the outline of her face
and her hair falling across my jacket.
I don’t mind how long she sleeps.
I’m happy to be close by her,
for as long as she wants.
I’ve never slept beside anyone before.
Tonight is a first for lots of things.
I want to hold that feeling
as long as possible.
Lucy rolls gently onto her side
and puts her arm around me.
I close my eyes,
and all I see is her face,
all I hear is her breath,
all I feel is her touch.
I go back to sleep,
happy to be here.
NINE
Morning
Lucy: nightmare
A shout!
I wake in panic.
Did I hear a cry from the forest?
I crawl to the entrance
and listen –
a faint breeze shivers the leaves.
The mist is clearing.
Somebody, something is out there,
maybe staring back at me,
watching, waiting.
Jake’s steady breathing
comes from the dark.
Do I answer?
If I call out I’ll scare Jake.
Was it a nightmare?
What if it’s him, hunting for me?
Dad blundering about in the bush,
getting angrier with every stumble.
I peer into the murky darkness,
wanting to shout,
‘You can’t find me.
You can’t touch me.
You can’t hurt me anymore.’
He’s a menace,
a shadow slouching behind me today
when I hurry back to Jake’s farm
to get help.
But I won’t let him find me.
I hope he gets lost in the dense woods
and never makes his way out.
Let him feel small.
Let him know what it’s like to be scared.
Lucy: the muffled sound
A muffled sound rises from the valley
and a rush of wind shakes the trees.
A branch snaps.
Someone is out there,
moving below me.
I stare into the gloom
and see a flash in the distance.
Torchlight!
He’s out there, searching for me.
What if he finds this cave?
Jake and me?
I crawl back inside,
my nightmare becoming real.
Getting closer.
No!
/>
I shut my eyes tight
against the forest
and its invader.
I wrap my arms around Jake,
gently over his sleeping body.
He won’t find me with Jake.
I shudder at the thought of what he’d do.
He can’t see us together.
I whisper,
‘I’m leaving to get help.
You sleep. I’ll be back with your dad.’
Jake grunts, half asleep.
I won’t let him find me here.
I’ll face him alone,
if I have to.
Lucy: the shadows
I leave Jake with the food and water,
move slowly to the entrance
and step out into the first hint of morning.
I inch down the track, carefully,
remembering Jake’s fall,
yesterday.
So long ago.
At the bottom of the hill,
I take a deep breath
and plunge into the forest,
ready for anything.
I pick up a fallen branch
as thick as my arm.
I need something to hold,
to give me courage.
A walking stick, I tell myself.
I follow the track
slowly picking my way through the undergrowth.
Every step I take is closer to him,
standing there, flashing his torch,
and grinning.
Smug because he’s got me.
I grip the branch and stop.
He won’t find me.
I’m smarter than he is.
There’s a way to outwit him.
I know he’ll keep to the track.
I’m sure of it.
He’ll be too scared of getting lost in the bush
and lumbering about for ages.
It’s simple.
I won’t take the track.
I’ll do what every animal does.
There’s safety in the bush.
If I keep the first glow of the sun in front of me,
slightly to my right,
I’ll be heading towards home.
I push into the forest
that gives me cover
and a chance to escape.
Lonesome Howl Page 7