Ghost Bird

by Lisa Fuller

  My twin is part of me.

  A part of me I’ve always been able to reach out and touch. An infuriating, sometimes selfish, annoying as hell part of me, but always there even when I don’t want it to be. I judge her so harshly sometimes. Guilt mixes with the panic.

  I’ve always seen the golden core of her. The soft melting heart that the hard shell protects. I’m one of the very few who sees it, and only then because she’s never had the ability to shut me out. We’d been so close when we were little. If one of us got hurt, the other would bruise. It’s been a long time since we’ve been that connected.

  Sitting on those old steps, the night fades into sunlit days filled with laughter, and teasing play. How many times had I sat on these stairs and watched it all? Watched that carefree part of myself that saw no consequences, felt no guilt, but also no deliberate malice? She never means to hurt me.

  Even now I know she won’t feel remorse for her actions. She’ll fight to come home, battle with all she is to return to us. But she’ll feel no responsibility, believe herself the victim in all ways and still spare no thought for those left waiting in pain.

  I let the panic pull me under, let myself feel the anger with my twin that is bubbling away underneath, the blame that helps no one and only drops me further into shame. She should have stayed home with me. She should never have been out with Troy, and should damn sure have never been on some whitefulla’s property, especially those whitefullas!

  The fury fills me till I think it might burst, shoving back the panic. Then it drains away, so painfully slow, till I am nothing but emptiness.

  I open my eyes, stare at the sorrow-filled moon and whisper, ‘Come home.’

  Day 2, Daylight

  I don’t sleep. Mostly I listen to the springs in Mum’s bed squeaking as she tosses and turns. When the predawn light starts to float in from outside she goes into the kitchen and starts the kettle. Not long after I hop up and go to join her. Mum looks shocked (I am not an early riser), but she also looks shocking. Two days’ worth of no sleep is hanging from her eyes and for a black woman she’s looking kind of pale. There are already a pile of bags by the back door, from what I can see they are full of water bottles, containers of food and fruit. Everything they’ll need for a day out bush.

  ‘Tea’s there.’

  ‘Thanks Mum.’

  I’m half expecting her to remember yesterday’s fury, but she seems calm. That won’t make me any less grounded. I get my tea and sit across from Mum. We stare at each other uncomfortably before looking away.

  ‘Daught, I need to know. If Laney calls, you’ll tell me right?’

  Too shocked to do anything but react I meet her narrowed eyes as she watches me closely.

  ‘Yeah Mum. Straightaway.’ I take a second to think about it. ‘But if she’s been muckin around havin fun this whole time I’ll probably go off my head at her first.’

  She smiles in relief and anticipation. ‘You can warm her up for me then. Since neither of us is gettin any sleep how about a big breakfast to get us started?’

  I am this close to telling her that there is no way I can stomach food, but then I see Mum’s chewed-up nails, shut my mouth and let the woman cook. According to Alana Thomson, nail biting is a nasty, dirty habit. She probably feels that way because she only ever does it when she’s stressed to the max about something.

  ‘Can I help?’ I ask.

  ‘Grab out the things from the fridge and start choppin up the mushrooms, ay?’

  Thomson women are never ones to wallow granddaughter, gotta keep moving, just keep moving. Ask any black woman, no time to sit and cry about the tough stuff when there’s kids to feed. Nan’s words echo in my head and, for the first time in a long while, I’m glad.

  We work that way for a while, getting everything ready. At some point Uncle Joe drifts in. He doesn’t look like he’s slept much either.

  We eat in silence, each of us thinking about the day ahead. Mum calls in to work and tells them not to expect her for the rest of the week. Uncle Joe calls his boss too, then takes some of the supplies out to his car. While he is gone I realise Mum is staring at me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Daughter, I want you to go to school today.’

  ‘What?’

  Mum winces. ‘Don’t hit that note, I’ve got a headache. I’m serious. I want you to go to school.’

  ‘But why? It’s not like I’ll be able to focus on anythin and I want to help find Laney!’

  Again she winces, although I’m not too sure why this time.

  ‘I know, daught, and part of me wants you with us. But a bigger part of me wants you safe where I know, no matter what, at least one of my children is okay.’

  Her voice breaks and I feel instant guilt. I stomp on it.

  ‘I need to help, Mum. Please don’t get all over-protective on me, not about this!’

  When tears start to leak out of her eyes I know I’ve pushed too hard.

  ‘I know I’m over-protective, but you know why.’ She waves a hand at the photos of Dad on the fridge. ‘And with Laney …’ Her breath catches and she nearly chokes on the words. ‘Please, daughter, please just stay safe for me.’

  Uncle Joe walks back in and takes one look at Mum’s tears. He turns on me with fury in his eyes.

  ‘What did you do to your mother?’

  ‘Nuthin, she’s the one doin shit.’

  ‘Watch ya mouth,’ they both bark.

  Uncle puts his hands on his hips. ‘Tace, you will do as your mother tells you.’

  I stare at him in shock, usually Uncle can be trusted to help ease Mum’s fears, not back up her crazy.

  ‘But Uncle—’

  ‘But nothing. Go get ready, we’ll drop you off before we head out.’

  I shoot from my chair and storm out of the room, slamming my bedroom door as hard as I can. Fuming, I abuse my school port, books and uniform while I get ready. I listen to uncles, aunties, cousins roll up and start to divide up the various back roads and places Laney might’ve gone. Rhi is there with Aunty Mel. She’d stuck her head in the door, taken one look at my face and left me alone, muttering something that sounded like ‘she’s the one that shoulda been named after her mother’.

  Everything ready, I march out of the house and into Uncle’s car without uttering a single word to anyone. It takes another fifteen minutes for them to come outside and the whole time I am cursing them all in my head. No one speaks as they get in the car, and no one says anything when they drop me off at school. In my family we do the silent treatment like an Olympic sport.

  Computer class is boring as ever but at least the air-con means you don’t stick to things. If you pick the right computer Mr Duffy won’t move his large bum around enough to see what you’re doing. We all pick games that make it look like we’re doing the useless typing exercises he usually sets us. Someone needs to tell that man it isn’t 1975.

  For once I’m following the exercises, too tired and stressed to do anything but tap away mindlessly while I mull things over. It’s obvious Mum is going to do everything she can to shut me out of the search for Laney. If I want to get involved I’ll have to take things into my own hands. But what?

  The year eleven boys are doing their usual stuffing around, and I get hit by a flying spit ball. I turn to glare at them. Ordinarily they’d have laughed into their hands and gotten cheeky with me, but now none of them will meet my eyes. Not even this is normal since Laney’s been missing. My gaze lands on Sam Miller and something clicks. I settle back to the tasks, trying not to be too obvious about staring at Sam. He, more than anyone, spends the most time with his Aunty May and he is the only Miller I can swap two words with that don’t involve four letters. Maybe if I want answers, I should go to the source? I open AOL instant messaging, find his sign-in name using his school email and start typing. It takes me forever to come up with s
omething. In the end I have to treat it like a jump from the big bridge into the river. Fast, no thought, just do it. Send.

  ‘Meet me at the back of the toilets after class? I need your help. It’s for Laney.’

  Sam stops mucking around as his computer lets out a little chime. I watch but can’t see a thing because he’s angled his body to block the view of his screen from Mr Duffy and the whole room. The next minute my own computer chimes.

  ‘Okay.’

  My clandestine meeting with a Miller boy is set. With my heartbeat picking up in fear, I talk myself through my plan again. I need Sam’s help and he might not be willing to give it. I’m not sure what it will take, but it doesn’t seem like a small thing asking someone to help you get access to their crazy old aunty on the sly.

  If it helps me find Laney it’ll all be worth it.

  There aren’t too many places you can hide in school. Hell, if you fart in this town at least two people will hear you and a few hours later the story will be you’ve shit your pants. Meeting at school isn’t smart, but it is also my only option. If I get caught doing this with a Miller boy I’ll get grounded; if I get caught meeting one at night on my own, my life is dirt. His too. Only I will be luckier because Mum doesn’t believe in bashing your kids. Everyone knows what Sam’s mum and dad are like. He’s taking the biggest risk, and he could’ve told me to piss off. I’d been bracing for that.

  The toilet block for the big kids sits behind the Big Building, a little white unit like any other with the entrances on the sides and facing towards the rest of the school. The back of the block is a solid wall with two small, high windows. Leaning against said wall, I keep a close eye out. The playground on my left is empty for now, and gives a bit of cover from the road running past the school. The science building, an old demountable connected to the main one by a tin-covered walkway, is to the right. The little verandah that leads into the science block has another set of port racks just for the year eights. In front of me is a little veggie patch along the chain-link fence; the bright idea of some science teacher a few years back. It was supposed to be better than sitting in a classroom learning, but you try digging in rock-hard dirt during one of our summers and tell me it’s fun.

  Lunch is right after computer class, but I’d waited, pretending to eat my lunch, while the school cleared. Only when I hadn’t seen anyone for a good while did I come here. I keep thinking about the time my cousin Kelly was caught sneaking around with a Miller boy. After the screaming slowed, she’d been shipped off to boarding school and he went to the mines in Emerald. Most of the mob stopped talking to Kelly, like she was some kind of traitor. Being cut off from family is a fate worse than death. My thoughts are making my paranoia worse so when Sam walks around the corner, I jump a few centimetres off the ground.

  Sam takes one look at me and doubles over, laughing silently. I’m so shame, but I giggle nervously. ‘Shut up, it’s not funny! If anyone sees us …’ I let it hang for a second. ‘I know we’re not … friends, but I need your help.’

  He shakes his head. ‘About Laney, you said. What I can’t figure is how you think I can help?’

  I get all uncomfortable, but this is for Laney.

  ‘I need to talk to Ma … your Aunty May.’

  Sam’s face stiffens. He knows what I almost said.

  ‘Why?’ He could’ve cut me with the sharpness in his voice. ‘You don’t think she had anythin to do with—’

  ‘No!’ Wincing at my too-loud reply. ‘No way, not that, I swear. But I heard … well, that maybe somethin happened to er … like with Laney.’

  His expression becomes glacial as Sam stares me down. I can’t keep my eyes on his face, and my hands are shaking so hard I have to twist my fingers together.

  ‘I wouldn’t bother er, but Laney …’

  I take a peek and realise I’m looking at Sam’s back. Intense anger and shame fill me. Hard to know how I could’ve stuffed that up any more.

  At least no one will wonder why he hates me so much after this. Shaking my head to push away the tears I walk back around the toilet block and come face to face with Bobbie. She swings her eyes from mine to Sam’s retreating figure as he heads past the Big Building. By the time her head swings back to me her mouth has dropped open and I watch the shock turn into glee. I am so busted and there is no way she’ll keep her mouth shut, but I have to try. Grabbing her by the arm I haul her into the girls’ toilets. She is grinning at me as I swing to face her, hands on hips, ready to battle.

  ‘How long’s that been goin on?’ she asks.

  ‘It’s not! And you better not tell anyone or I swear—’

  ‘Get it straight, cuz, either you got nuthin goin or nuthin to hide, which is it?’

  She has me there.

  ‘We was just talkin bout Laney. I wanted his help with findin er.’

  Bobbie smirks. ‘We don’t need Millers to help us with anythin. So what’s really goin on?’

  She’s a Thomson too. She’s also the biggest mouth in this town.

  ‘Nunya business. Just don’t tell anyone or I’ll … I’ll tell everyone about what appened at Christmas.’

  It’s Bobbie’s turn to freeze. One year younger than me and Laney, I’d caught her out at the reservoir one night when I’d stayed in my favourite thinking spot too late. She’d driven up in the passenger seat of a car that was owned by a local fulla, a very married-up fulla. It’s not like I liked it and I warned her about it, but it wasn’t any of my business either. Besides, my cousin has my loyalty first and unlike others I know how to keep my mouth shut.

  ‘You wouldn’t …’ She stares at me, trying to find any weakness.

  I look her dead in the eye. ‘Try me.’ It’s a dirty trick and I hate doing it, but I’m desperate.

  ‘But you know his woman is warngee! She’ll flog me,’ Bobbie hisses at me.

  ‘If you’re lucky.’ We both know Cinta has done worse. Her man is the biggest slut but she only ever goes after the women he mucks around with. ‘Sides, I kept my mouth shut for you, don’t see why you can’t do the same for me.’

  ‘Fine then!’ Bobbie’s eyes shift and I know she’s coming up with some way around it. I can’t risk it. If Mum finds out she’ll probably send me off to boarding school with Kelly, final year or not. Reaching out I grab Bobbie by her collar and pull her into my face.

  ‘Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me. Roberta. My secret comes out then so does yours. And since this is the only time I’ve met up with Sam and you’re the only one who knows, I’ll know you opened your mouth. If there’s even the smallest rumour about me and Sam I’ll know where it came from. Then I’ll head straight up to Cinta’s place and tell her fuckin everythin. The worst that’ll happen to me is gettin grounded; you got a lot more to worry about.’

  I watch the shock hit. Bobbie isn’t a fighter, but then I’m not much of one either. I’m talking about something much worse than the physical though. She thinks she has more to lose than I do, but I will do whatever I have to for my sister, even fire-bomb my relationship with my little cousin. The thought holds my shame back a bit.

  Finally Bobbie nods, wrenching herself out of my hold. Walking out of the toilets she never looks back. I slump back, fighting my emotions. I will find my sister, but knowing Bobbie can’t help herself, that threat will only last for so long. I have a week, tops.

  Day 2, Afternoon

  I power-walk home. It’s still way too hot to sprint. I find the house empty and my heart drops to the floor. I do as much thumping around as I can. No one is home to tell me to be quiet. The home phone is on forward to one of the great-aunties who never moves far from her house. The place is so damn silent it starts to feel like someone has died. I fling my port into the corner of my room and take a cold shower to get off the coat of sweat. Only the cold tap is on, and still it’s lukewarm from the sun. As soon as I climb out I am covered in sweat again, but it�
�s worth it for that little bit of relief. I pull on a pair of shorts and a tank top, and shove my hair into a cap to try to keep the moisture in as long as possible. I grab my Discman, my favourite CD and storm to the front door.

  I am still pissed at all of them and I’m all set for a dramatic exit when guilt hits. Mum will freak if she gets home and I’m not here. I huff my way back into the kitchen. There’s always a notepad on top of the fridge for groceries and messages. I pull it down and scribble a quick note.

  Gone to reservoir – T. She won’t get any love hearts or hugs today.

  The entire afternoon has been filled with Sam’s and Bobbie’s accusing stares. I’m too frustrated to think straight so I’ll go to my thinking spot and try to sort it out. Walking out into the 4pm sun the heat is intense. I plug my headphones in and stride off to the beat of Tupac’s Greatest Hits. Laney got it for me for Christmas, mostly because she wanted to listen to it. She got the biggest shock when I wouldn’t share it with her.

  I round the corner onto Reservoir Road just as Tupac is rapping about a poor girl named Brenda. I walked off a lot of anger, sweating it out on the way; that and the song has me feeling wrung out and sad. My shoulders loosen up a little. Laney always gives me shit for coming up here.

  ‘Why would you want to sit at that ugly old place? Isn’t it borin?’

  ‘Unlike some people I don’t mind my own company.’

  ‘You wouldn’t catch me up there; it’s creepy!’

  ‘That’s why I go.’ The last bit is always a loud mumble, followed by a physical assault from my twin. It is such an old argument I almost catch myself responding to her out loud.

  Mum says this road didn’t always have a name so when they finally gave it one they used what everyone called it. How imaginative. There are a lot of roads around like that. A long dirt road, with deep ruts in it from recent rainfall running down the hill, curves up and out of sight. It isn’t steep though and it is mostly shaded. For some reason it always feels cooler on this road. I should ask the science teacher about it, see what would cause it. Probably the tree cover.