by Andrew Daddo
‘I feel like a runaway,’ said Hendrix, foot up on the edge of Emily’s seat. She had hers in his lap.
‘Same. So naughty.’
Hendrix tried not to giggle. ‘We’re not really going to Frankston, are we? It’s a shithole. What happened to Benalla?’
Emily shook her head, crossing to the seat next to him and cuddling up. ‘I’ve done Benalla. I’m up for new things, not old.’
‘I’m a new thing,’ smiled Hendrix. ‘Do me?’
Before the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. Surely she would have laughed if she’d thought it was funny. Her head was on his chest, so she couldn’t see he was smiling when he’d said it. Emily’d have no idea it was a joke, but then, it kind of wasn’t as well. It’s pretty much all he’d thought about since she’d said that bit about going away together and spending time ‘aloooooone’.
‘You’ll do,’ she said. ‘But you’d better stay new. Like I said, I’m not into old things.’
Emily squeezed the meaty part above his knee, making him jump. She got it. He’d be fine.
They talked crap the whole way to Frankston. Emily wanted to know the training regime, day to day, start to finish. Hendrix did his best to tell her, but once he got going he realised how utterly boring it was. He couldn’t believe she actually seemed interested. He left out the bits about the hypoxic mask and the hyperbaric chamber, because he and his dad never mentioned that stuff to anyone. Technically, it wasn’t a secret, and it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, but his dad had always said it was his edge, something you never gave away. She asked him about girls and other girlfriends and it embarrassed him to say she was pretty much it.
‘Please,’ she scoffed. ‘You’re a score.’
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘You’re pretty much it. Apart from Victoria Birkley, the captain of my primary school.’ He told her about the end-of-year dance and how all the other kids thought something was on between Hendrix and Victoria. They’d walked out of the hall at the same time, and then, a little while later, they’d walked back in together. All the other kids thought they’d hooked up, and because they laughed when they denied it, everyone thought they were lying. Somehow it became a truth and he’d never bothered fixing it. Hendrix was uncomfortable but Emily loved hearing about it.
‘You hooked up, didn’t you?!’
‘I really didn’t.’
He would have made out with a frog that night.
‘You wanted to, but. Didn’t ya?!’
Hendrix shook his head and winced. The distance of time didn’t make the night any less awkward.
‘How would you have kissed her?’
‘Jesus, really?’ he said, crinkling his eyes. It was too much.
‘Come on. It’s fun,’ cajoled Emily. She jumped from sitting to her knees and put her face near his. ‘Show us how you would’ve. How you wanted to kiss her.’
‘I have no idea. We weren’t even outside together. She went to the toilet, I think. I definitely did.’
‘Hendrix, come on. You wanted to kiss her.’
She placed a hand on each side of his face and held it. The train rocked and rolled, but she had a decent grip on him. ‘Would it have been like this?’
Hendrix didn’t fight as she pushed in toward him.
It was a tentative kiss. Peckish.
‘Was it like that?’
‘I never kissed her.’
‘Or, was it like this?’ And she smiled, before licking his face.
‘That’s off.’
She always surprised him. He’d literally never met anyone like her before. ‘Nup. Definitely not like that.’
‘So, you really didn’t? And there’s never been anyone else? It’s unbelievable.’
Hendrix couldn’t have felt more lame. It was true, there was no one else. Emily was his relief.
‘You regretted it, though, didn’t ya.’
‘What?’ said Hendrix. ‘Regretted what?’
‘Not kissing her. Like, I’m guessing you saw her go into the toilets. Did you wish you stopped her, or waited for her, or called out? Then you could have kissed her?’
He saw the trap. She was sitting on his lap staring into his eyes, asking new questions he barely had the courage to ask himself.
‘Yep,’ he admitted, blushing hard. ‘Yep. I did see her and I actually called after her but she didn’t hear me. At least, if she heard, she didn’t turn around. She kind of stopped in the doorway, but then kept going. When she came out, I was at the door to the hall and was going to say something. I don’t know what, but something. She just smiled and blew on past me. Everyone made up the rest.’
‘That’s so sad, Hendrix,’ said Emily, cradling his cheek in her palm.
‘Yep,’ he said. ‘Never told anyone that. You’re turning me into a sook.’
‘Good,’ smiled Emily.
‘Maybe.’
He watched her as she turned to see what was going past outside. Seaford, not much to look at but she seemed to warm to the view.
‘And,’ said Hendrix, ‘I would have kissed her like this.’
‘First thing is to get out of Frankston. Let’s bus it south. We can go all the way to Portsea, it’s where the rich people go, or stop along the way. We could be living our very own Choose Your Own Adventure.’
It sounded great to Emily. This was exactly the kind of new ground she was after.
Hendrix found his bearings. ‘Buses are there. Let’s make sure we don’t get on one that goes back to town, eh?’
Emily snagged the window seat and fell asleep on his shoulder from Mornington to Mount Martha, waking as the bus worked it’s way up the hill near Arthurs Seat.
‘Where are we?’ she asked.
‘Coming up to Dromana, I think. There’s a spot down here that’s nuts in summertime, bogans camp peg to peg. They’ve got a fair with rides and lights and we’d drive past after this huge Athletics carnival every summer. Mum and me would always want to stop but there was never time. Dad always had to get home, Mum wanted to get fairy floss, and I’d press my nose against the glass and want to ride something.’
‘You never stopped?’
‘Not once.’
Emily elbowed him in the ribs and grinned like she’d won something. ‘We should go there. That’s the spot for us. Something new for you, too.’
‘Sweet,’ said Hendrix. ‘I don’t think there’ll be a fair, though. Summer holidays only.’
‘Won’t be crowds either. No camping peg to peg. We’ll have it to ourselves. The only bogans in paradise.’ Emily was way ahead of him.
Hendrix thought the spot was at Macrae near the yacht club, but it didn’t look right. It might have been the Dromana foreshore, and Rosebud rang a few bells as well. But when the bus got to Rye, with the front beach on the right and the shops on the left, it all came flooding back.
‘This is it. This is the spot. All these families clogging up this little strip of land off the beach. Boats and vans and all sorts of shit everywhere, towels and wetsuits hung from the tea tree, smoke from BBQs drifted in the wind. I wanted to do it so much.’
Emily pulled the cord for the driver to stop.
They found their spot soon enough, despite the raised eyebrow from the guy in the office assigning them a site right near the kitchen and toilet block.
‘Youse backpackers look younger every year,’ he muttered.
They kept walking, stopping in the far corner of the park. There wasn’t a tent or a van anywhere near them.
Emily took charge. ‘Shelter, fire, food. That’s how you do it,’ she said.
‘Learn that in the country?’ went Hendrix, clearly impressed.
‘Survivor,’ laughed Emily. ‘Maybe a bit of ’Nalla, too. We only went camping a couple of times, and usually in the backyard. One time we went hardcore, me and Tess and Raney. Dad dropped us in the middle of nowhere and said, “Good luck.” But he came back before dark and made sure we were okay. Built us a fire, gave us some chops and sausages and a grill
to cook them on. I’m pretty sure he slept in the car about a hundred metres up the road, too. But he never said anything. So, we need to set a fire. I’ll do that, you set up your tent.’
So that’s what they did. In the end, Emily had to help with the tent, too. ‘Lucky you’re good-looking,’ she said.
They thought they could walk to the surf beach, heading off hand in hand, making the most of the food Hendrix had in his backpack. Hendrix couldn’t help getting a canter going. Emily watched him, said he should warm-up a bit, in case he pulled something. Hendrix smirked, Emily blushed.
By the side of the road he showed her the runner’s start position, the best way off the line, the best way to cross it. She acted it all out in slow motion and anyone watching would have reckoned they were nuts. They walked without talking, talked without walking.
After twenty minutes, they realised it was more than a walk and caught a bus the rest of the way.
On the dunes, above the beach, Hendrix said, ‘Get your phone, we should do a photo. I want a good one.’
‘Great idea,’ she said, patting her pockets. ‘But there’s a funny thing about that – my phone might have slipped between the seats of the car before I got out.’
‘What? You’ve got no phone?’
‘Nope.’
‘Why’d you do that? You said your mum was fine about us going.’
Emily pursed her lips, forcing them into a smile. ‘But she’d ring me. I wanted to be out of reach, just for a night. Be free, you know?’ She put her hands up in peace signs and waved them about.
For the first time since they’d cleared Melbourne, he looked concerned. ‘We’d better call, right?’
‘Don’t ruin it, Hendrix.’ He shrugged, caught in the fog between the right thing and happiness. Emily tapped her head. ‘We don’t need a photo anyway. Up here is all we’re going to need. Memories. Better than photos.’
From the dunes, the outlook was mad. The surf ran over rocks onto the beach, clawing sand back to the sea. It was heavy going in the soft stuff, and not much better near the water, but the trek to the rock pools was definitely worth the effort. They skimmed stones on the water, ate power bars, did handstands. It was like they were mates until they kissed, then they were mates again.
‘I hate it when I’m wrong. We should’ve brought a camera,’ said Emily when they stopped to look back at the beach from the dunes before leaving. ‘I would like to be able to remember this exactly how it is, right now.’ She arranged him so she could fit under his arm. ‘You’d be here on the right side of the photo, and I’d tuck into you with my arms around your tummy. Then we’d be able to see the beach and the rocks to the left. I’d put a sunset filter on it, too. Then I’d print it and put it in a white wooden frame and stand it up by my bed. I actually think this might be my best day ever, Hendrix. Like, I really don’t think there’s been a better day.’
‘Me, too,’ said Hendrix. ‘I love – d it.’
‘Mmmmm,’ she said. ‘Me, too.’
McDonald’s for dinner. Hendrix could barely swallow for the guilt of it. The Big Mac was bad enough, but the tub of Coke almost sent him into orbit.
‘My dad. Oh my God. We can never speak of this again. Like, this never happened.’
Emily looked all indignant. ‘This never happened?’ she said, waving a finger between the two of them. ‘This?’
‘No. God no. That is the best. I mean the food!’ Hendrix raised his t-shirt to show off his pushed out, perfect belly. ‘I’m as fat as a house already. And I love it! Now where’s my goddamn sundae?’
They bought a family bag of marshmallows from the 7-Eleven and lit the fire before the sun swapped places with the moon.
The fire cracked and spat in front of them. Emily sharpened a pair of long twigs and they debated how badly you could murder a marshmallow before eating it. ‘How good’s this?’ laughed Hendrix after dropping another one into the fire. ‘This camping thing’s okay.’
‘It’s kind of camping,’ said Emily. ‘We drove across Australia once. You’ve never seen so many stars. We drove all day, only stopping to use a toilet and fill up. When Dad was done and he couldn’t eek another kilometre out of himself, he’d pulled over and spread out a tarp on the ground. Mum got a bacon-and-egg pie out of the esky and left it in the engine well to heat up while me and Siss mucked about. There were roos all over the place. We ate the pie on the tarp, then Dad and Mum pointed out the constellations in the sky. It was magic. It’s got to be country dark to see the stars properly. You can’t really do it in town, even down here it’s too light. There’s too much spill from the street lights and houses.’
She still managed to find the Big Dipper and Southern Cross and a few others for Hendrix.
‘When it was bedtime, we just cozied up on the tarp together. No tent. Dad just pulled the tarpaulin over us like a doona, and we slept where we’d stopped. Right there on the side of the road.’
‘The side of the highway?’
‘Pretty much. Did it for two nights west and two nights east on the way home. That’s proper camping.’
‘How about you? You a camper?’
‘Nup. Oh, once we did.’ He started laughing at the memory. ‘It was Ninety Mile Beach. Dig a hole to crap in, shower in the ocean. I was really young and all I wanted to do was catch a rabbit. You’d see them all over the place later in the afternoon, but they were too fast.’
‘For you? How old were you?’
Hendrix looked up to the sky. ‘Dunno. Seven, maybe. Six? So, what we did was, I’d stand at a rabbit hole with my hands out, ready to catch one. Then Dad would be at another hole, and he’d have a big stick. Mum was at a different hole; she had a stick, too. Then, at the same time, they’d beat the ground, which was meant to scare the rabbits out of their holes, and there I’d be, ready to catch one. And we’d eat it. Or play with it, then eat it.’
‘You did not!’ squealed Emily.
‘I did not. No rabbit ever came out. It seemed like such a good plan at the time.’
‘Hmmph,’ she said. ‘Not bad. Pouring petrol down the hole and lighting it would have worked better.’
‘You are so country bogan!’ Hendrix laughed.
Emily nodded. ‘The best kind.’ She tossed a small lump of wood onto the fire. ‘So, your mum was there. That’s nice. You don’t talk about her much. Where is she now? Did your parents get divorced?’
Hendrix studied the fire. ‘I wish,’ he said, poking the embers with his marshmallow stick. ‘Nah. Mum died when I was eight. Car accident. She was jogging and was hit by a car. I don’t really remember it. I mean, I kind of do, but not really. There’s not much to say about it.’
The touch of her hand on his back was more comforting than she knew. ‘I’m so sorry, Hendrix. That’s awful. And your dad never met anyone else?’
‘Nup. She was the one for him. He always said Mum was his best.’
Emily was surprised by how badly she wanted to be Hendrix’s best, how she wanted to be around to experience how that might work out.
‘Happy thoughts, eh? You should talk more about your mum,’ she said, turning her back rub into a cuddle. ‘Mums are good.’
‘Yep,’ he said, but he’d already moved back to the present. Things were dawdling toward awkward as they got closer to bedtime. Hendrix wasn’t sure how this bit worked. He guessed this was how it felt at the movies when the guy wants to put his arm around the girl and does the big yawn to get there. But there was never a scene like this where the boy and the girl had to get from a couple of stumps by a fire to the inside of a tent for the first time.
‘I’m going to clean my teeth,’ he said. ‘Always do before bed.’
‘Yes, bed,’ went Emily. ‘I’m gonna clean my teeth, too. I’ll have a shower and call my mum. I feel awful. You gonna call your dad?’
‘Nup, it’ll be better if I don’t. We told him there were no phones on the D of E camp. He’s expecting me home tomorrow and I’ll be there. Exhausted. You know he’s goin
g to lock me up if he finds out what we’ve done, don’t you?’
They talked over the wall of the shower block, meeting at the entrance scrubbed and fresh. Hendrix stood outside the phone box while Emily talked to her mum. He didn’t need to hear what Anna was saying to know the call wasn’t going well. Emily kept saying that she must have accidentally dropped it between the seat and the console. There were lots of sorry and really and really really sorry. Then Emily didn’t speak for the longest time. She had her back to the wall and was staring at Hendrix, alternately shaking her head and rolling her eyes and making a ‘yap yap’ sign with her free hand. When she did talk, she turned her back to Hendrix and admitted to leaving the phone between the seats on purpose. Almost as fast as she fessed up, she started backtracking. And then, ‘No, mum, don’t come and get me. I’m fine. I’m fine.’
Hendrix stood outside the box, dragging his hand down the glass like Leonardo in Titanic. ‘You haven’t said where you are!’ he mouthed. ‘She can’t come and get you!’
Thumbs up from Emily, before letting go of another wave of apologies to her mum.
‘I’ll call you in the morning, Mum. Promise. Uh huh. Uh huh.’ Then Emily made that universal ‘oh shit’ face. She was shaking her head, her nose a mess of wrinkles. ‘Uh huh. Okay, well, that’s fine, I suppose. Shit, Mum. Oh shit.’
Hendrix stopped mucking about. It sounded bad. ‘What? What’s happened?’
She waved him off with a shake of her head. ‘Okay, Mum. It’s not your fault. I love you. Call you first thing. Love you. Bye. Bye now. Yep. I will. I’ll ask him. Bye, Mum.’
Emily came out of the phone booth and winced before looking to the sky. ‘She called your dad. She couldn’t find me and knew I was with you, so she called him to find out if he knew where we were.’
‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck,’ went Hendrix. ‘We have to go home. He’s going to kill me.’
‘We’re not going home. Just call him.’
‘I’m not calling him! I swear to God, he will go ballistic. Jesus. First the photo, now this.’ He was whispering to himself. ‘You don’t know him. I can’t even believe you talked me into doing this. State titles are in two weeks. Nationals just after that. I shouldn’t even be here. We seriously have to go home.’