Right here.
Remember?
When did I forget about this?
Miles and Justin fought for the next line, but Miles was all over it, the board fast and loose under his feet and everything was right.
It felt good. Just like it should.
‘You can give me my stick back now,’ Justin yelled from behind, but Miles wasn’t ready to give this up. Not yet. He’d paddle out for one more. Just one more.
‘I’m sorry about your brother,’ Justin said, before he walked off, before he walked home. And Miles wanted to say goodbye. To tell Justin thanks for everything, for all of it. But he didn’t. He just stood and watched and waved as Justin moved down the beach, wet feet shoved into his sneakers.
He could feel them. Mum and Harry. They were right there behind him, waiting in the Holden – Harry in the front seat grinning and telling him to hurry up. Telling him they were getting fish and chips.
And he wanted them to stay with him a while longer. He wanted them to stay.
He heard the sound of a horn and turned around.
It was Joe.
Joe was waiting for him.
Sometimes in the morning, when the mist hovered in the trees and fog covered the ground and rolled out thick on the water, it meant the winter light would come.
And Miles loved that light.
It made the dark water sparkle, turned the white spray golden – made the ocean a giant mirror reflecting the sky.
Even the leaves on the crack wattle shone in that light.
It made everything come to life.
And they were going to Cloudy. They were leaving.
The water was calm, resting and waiting and letting them pass. Just the right amount of wind to sail without having to work hard, without having to work at all. They moved silently into the bay and through thinning mist, Cloudy looked brand new. Just born, the outlines becoming sharp as the sun rose, as the fog cleared. And like a dream, the waking cliffs glowed orange and the sand lit up silver and the sky, still pale violet, was full and open.
George was there waiting, Jake by his side.
Standing on sand, it seemed that none of them needed to talk. That none of them needed words. They walked together into the dunes to a place where wind couldn’t touch and tide would never reach. Joe knelt down and dug a small hole in the damp sandy soil. And they still didn’t speak. Even Jake sat quietly.
All the things that Harry had left behind, scattered on the floor and tucked away in drawers and shoved to the back of his cupboard. His show bags full of lollies that he had tried so hard to save, his red plastic skateboard with bearings rusted solid, his old dirty sneakers. They were just things. They were no use anymore.
And when Miles thought about his brother, now, it was the carefully collected shells and rocks, the drift-wood and bones that mattered most. Harry’s treasure hunt items that had taken up all the windowsills and mantelpieces and verandah space at Granddad’s.
Miles had brought the best ones back to Cloudy.
The petrified seahorse, the huge cuttlefish cartridge that Harry had carved his name into, and the dried and shrunken Port Jackson shark egg. Although technically Harry hadn’t found that one. Not really.
Miles combed the dirty layers of caked wax on his board, making lines to give him grip. Harry had made them late because he didn’t want to get in the stupid dinghy, and any minute now the sea breeze would pick up and everything would be wrecked.
‘What should I find?’ Harry asked.
Joe was shaking his wetsuit out over and over. ‘Um … A cuttlefish bone, a nice bit of driftwood …’
‘A shark egg,’ Miles said.
It had just come out of his mouth and he didn’t want to look up because he knew Joe would be staring right at him. He knew he shouldn’t have said it. Harry would look everywhere for a shark egg and he’d never look in the right places. He’d never find one.
‘You coming?’ said Joe. He was already wading out and Harry had gone. He’d run off down the beach.
Miles looked out to the water. Perfect three-foot glass, empty and waiting and no wind yet. Not yet.
And he couldn’t believe he was going to give up clean waves for this, for Harry. But he was going to. He’d already put his board down on the sand.
He watched Harry move into the dunes. God, he wasn’t going to find much in there. If there were eggs anywhere they’d be up near Whale Bone Point. The current pushed loose stuff up there. Anything that floated. And it had just been a full moon. There was a chance.
A small chance.
Miles poured a cup of tea into the thermos lid, warmed his hands. He’d stayed out in the water for ages. There had been time after all. Plenty. The water just for him.
‘Did you look over there for an egg, Harry?’ Miles pointed to the rock pools and gnarled reef that made up Whale Bone Point.
Harry was stuffing his face with a fat slice of Aunty Jean’s carrot cake. ‘I looked everywhere,’ he said, white butter icing stuck to his lips.
‘Are you sure you looked over there?’
Harry just stared at him then took another bite of cake. Miles walked over to his towel and pulled the Port Jackson shark egg out from under it. He threw it at Harry. It landed on the sand right near his feet and Harry looked at it for a long time. He didn’t even chew.
‘Is the shark out of it?’ he said, finally.
Miles nodded. The brown covering of the egg had spiralled open, its contents long gone.
‘But I didn’t find it.’
‘You would have if you’d looked over there properly.’
Harry put the remaining bit of cake down. He touched the egg with his fingers, held it up to the light.
Yes, he nodded.
‘Thanks,’ he said.
Joe was touching his arm. The sun had moved in the sky and time had run on. Time had gotten away.
Miles bent down and put the shark egg in the hole. He put the seahorse in, too, but kept the cuttlefish tight in his hand. He’d hang on to it. He’d take it with them. Just one thing.
Joe filled the hole. He patted it solid and marked the spot with shells they had collected on the way through to the dunes. Old shells, white and ancient. Shells that had been at Cloudy forever.
It was time to go.
Joe shook George’s hand goodbye and when Miles went to do the same, George grabbed him up quick, pulled him in tight.
‘Don’t look back,’ he said in his way so that all the words ran together. But Miles understood. And he knew he wouldn’t come back here, not for a long time. Then George put something in his hand. Something small and cold, sharp against his skin.
The white pointer’s tooth, come back to him.
And in his mind he saw Uncle Nick get in the car. He leant over and stroked Harry’s cheek. He looked at Miles.
‘This is for you,’ he said, and he put the tooth in his hands.
‘For luck.’
Miles looked up at George, his eyes full of tears.
‘You found him,’ he said. ‘Harry.’
And George nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said softly.
Jake barked, and George waved goodbye as they set off in the dinghy and headed out to the boat. Miles looked back down the curved wide beach of Cloudy one last time. Out of all the places, all the cliffs and rocks and black water and good waves rushing, this place was the only one he would miss. Cloudy was special, always brighter, and Harry was free to stay here now. Free to run along this beach until the end of time.
Out past the shallows, past the sandy-bottomed bays, comes the dark water – black and cold and roaring. Rolling out an invisible path, a new line for them to follow.
To somewhere warm.
To somewhere new.
Acknowledgements
I would like to warmly thank the following people – Vanessa Radnidge for believing in this book and working so hard to get it across the line. I will never forget all that you have done for me; Janey Runci for the years of encouragem
ent and inspiration. I owe much of this book to your incredible teaching; The Queensland Writers Centre; the Australian Society of Authors; Julia Stiles and Roberta Ivers; Fiona Hazard, Kate Ballard, Laura Drewe, Matt Richell, Louisa Dear, Clare Meldrum, Emily Brannan, Brendan Fredericks, Heather Young, Dannielle Williams, Jodie Mann, Daniel Pilkington and the Hachette team; David Kneale; James, Chiyoko and Haruki Parrett; Mum and Steve; Amanda Graham; Kim Bear; Robyn Bunting and Max; Edwinda Shaw; Jacinda Pfeffer; Fotina, Kathryn and Siobahn; Angela Slatter; the Joondo 8; the music of Gareth Edwards; and lastly, all the great writers in my writing groups (past and present) who have helped me along the way.
Reading Group Guide
About the Book
Past the Shallows is a hauntingly beautiful story of the bond of brotherhood and the fragility of youth.
Told with an elegant simplicity, this is the story of two brothers growing up in a fractured family on the wild Tasmanian coast. The consequences of their parents’ choices shape their lives and ultimately bring tragedy to them all.
Harry and Miles live with their father, an abalone fisherman, on the south-east coast of Tasmania. With their mum dead, they are left to look after themselves. When Miles isn’t helping out on the boat they explore
the coast and Miles and his older brother, Joe, love to surf. Harry is afraid of the water.
Every day their dad battles the unpredictable ocean to make a living. He is a hard man, a bitter drinker who harbours a devastating secret that is destroying him. Unlike Joe, Harry and Miles are too young to leave home and so are forced to live under the dark cloud of their father’s mood, trying to stay as invisible as possible whenever he is home. Harry, the youngest, is the most vulnerable and it seems he bears the brunt of his father’s anger.
About the Author
Favel Parrett is a Victorian writer who loves to surf in the Southern Ocean. She was a recipient of an Australian Society of Authors Mentorship in 2009 and has had a number of short stories published in journals including Island and Wet Ink. Favel is currently working on her second novel. She has a passion for travel, especially to Africa and Bhutan, and in her spare time she volunteers at an animal rescue shelter.
If you would like to ask Favel a question or know more about the inside story of Favel Parrett and Past the Shallows:
www.favelparrett.com.au
www.facebook.com/pages/Past-the-Shallows/146189278778592
www.twitter.com/favelparrett
Review Raves
‘Parrett’s writing has a real voice, with power to evoke feeling, place and character. She is capable of refreshing narrative clarity, yet at other times surprises with an intense lyricism that is never self-indulgent. Everyone is put to the test, pushed to the edge physically and spiritually in a series of events and revelations that affect not only the characters but also the reader. This book is that rare thing, a finely crafted literary novel that is genuinely moving and full of heart.’ The Age
‘an extraordinary debut novel, part psychological family drama. Part mystery, part painful rite of passage, engulfed in the wild isolation and natural richness of the Tasmanian coast. Favel Parrett’s intimate understanding of this rugged heel of the world seeps through every pore of this book, especially her descriptions of the water, so vivid you can feel the chill and rush of the waves, the pull of the undertow and the ominous danger of the deep … Touching and quite beautiful, Favel Parrett is a fresh and vital new voice in Australian fiction.’ Australian Women’s Weekly
‘Past the Shallows reminds me of other Australian novels, such as those of Tim Winton, focused on our relationship with the unforgiving seas that surround us, and the wild landscapes in which we live … It is an impressive first book, with exquisite imagery and poetic writing’ Courier-Mail
‘Past the Shallows spins a beautiful and shining web of a cruelly dysfunctional family set on the rugged southern coast of Tasmania … This is one of the most powerful and moving books this reviewer has read. Past the Shallows, an amazing book by a wonderful writer – Cormac McCarthy meets David Vann meets Favel Parrett. Read this book.’ Sunday Times
‘One of Parrett’s great achievements is the way she captures the children’s voices: these narrators are, unquestionably, children rather than adult ventriloquists … Past the Shallows is an even, thoughtful book and clearly the work of a talented new novelist.’ Weekend Australian
‘Parrett has crafted a small gem of a story, haunting and alive … the beauty of the writing uplifts the reader.’ Who Weekly
‘Parrett … has created truly believable characters and her prose’s as powerful as a rip.’ The Australian
‘Favel Parrett’s debut novel, Past the Shallows, marks the addition of a strong voice to the chorus of Australian literature.’ Canberra Times
‘Past the Shallows will remind readers of Tim Winton, both in its concerns and in its evocation of wild places. Parrett’s prose captures the Tasmanian coastline and weather in all its splendour and unpredictability, and yet in its deceptive simplicity will not be beyond the reach of the younger reader. Like Winton’s That Eye, The Sky, Parrett’s debut is an uncompromising and memorable tale.’ Sunday Tasmanian
Suggested Discussion Points
• Aunty Jean is the only female role model the boys have left. She is at times cruel and caring towards them. Do you consider her a good person? Do you have any sympathy for her? What references within the text have led you to this opinion?
• Do you think George Fuller sees Harry as just another puppy to rescue? Or does he genuinely care for Harry? There are a few other works of literature that use an ostracised figure in the community to enhance our understanding of the main characters. Why do you think this can be a useful plot device, and do you think it’s effective here?
• This is a small community where everyone knows who everyone is, as we can see from Mr Roberts, George and Mrs Martin in the store. In light of this, why do you think the boys’ home life is allowed to continue? What is the role of men in this community?
• There’re few female figures in Harry’s and Miles’s lives. Is there any evidence of what they think about women?
• What would be some of the challenges of living here?
• How challenging would it be to be a woman in this community?
• Jeff exhibits increasingly dangerous and bullying behaviour: the staring, shooting the shark and risking hitting Miles, forcing Harry to drink. Does he bring about Dad’s worst behaviour to his sons? Or do you think Dad allows Jeff free rein to reveal his ugly nature? Do you have any sympathy for Dad? What is the evidence within the text that formed your opinion?
• ‘Harry stood there looking at the tooth in his hands, and he looked so young and small like no time had ever passed by since he was the baby in the room and Joe had told Miles to be nice to him and help Mum out. And Miles had thought he wouldn’t like it. But Harry had a way about him. A way that made you promise to take care of him.’ (page 199)
Both Joe and Miles are forced to take on responsibility for their brothers, yet they do it quite differently. Joe moved out with Granddad and left the other two behind with their dad when he was thirteen and then ultimately leaves the two of them forever. Miles however stays on even after he is beaten by his father. Why do you think they approach the responsibility so differently?
• Miles and Harry share an unbreakable bond. Discuss their different reactions to Joe leaving.
• Joe is also part of this family unit. Why do you think he is painted as one of the family, but also an outsider? He used to work on the boat, now doesn’t. He moved to live with his grandfather. Why do you think Favel Parrett chose not to include point of view from Joe? What effect does this have on the novel? What do you imagine his story would have been?
• The water throughout the novel is a metaphor for Dad. Do you agree or not, and what from the text made you think this way? Harry fears the water and Miles both loves and hates it. Is there anything within the book that shows us how t
his relates to the boys’ relationship with Dad?
• ‘There was something coming.
Miles had felt it in the water. Seen it. Swell coming in steady, the wind right on it, pushing. It was ground swell. Brand new and full of punch – days away from its peak.’ (page 185)
How does the Tasmanian landscape speak for the character’s emotions within the text? Are there other references to nature within the book that you found moving? Discuss.
• Discuss the significance of the shark tooth necklace.
• Memory plays a big part in this novel. Discuss the way in which memories are invoked in Past the Shallows and what part they play in the story.
• The gradual piecing together of Miles’s memories about his mother and the night of the accident have a sense of fantasy or dream-like state about them. Do you think these events happened chronologically? What makes you think that? Did they reveal events the way you’d imagined? What other possibilities had you anticipated?
• Why do you think Joe wasn’t in the car?
• Do you think Harry isn’t Dad’s son, and Miles and Joe are? Is it clear-cut? What references within the text have given you that impression?
• It’s obviously a point of rage for Dad. Do you have any sympathy for him? How did you feel when you learned through Joe that he’d disappeared and there would be no direct confrontation or punishment for his acts? Was this a satisfactory ending for you? Why/why not?
• ‘Harry’s feet hardly seemed to touch the ground as he followed Jake, and it was easy to run. He ran through the trees, reached out, and he could almost touch Jake’s red fur. George was up ahead. George, waving from the top of the hill.
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