Nature of Ash, The

by Hager, Mandy

  ‘Take care, and if you need me I’ll be up this way again in a couple of days. With any luck the phone network will be back up and running by then.’

  I stand well back and raise my hand to wave him off. ‘Thanks so much.’

  He nods. ‘One last thing. You need to know your friend’s parents don’t have a hope in hell. They’re as good as dead.’

  While my mouth’s still hanging open he drives away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE CAMPGROUND IS FULL of families who’ve escaped the city, all trying to make the grotty surroundings more like home. Framed photos balance on camping tables, cut flowers wilt in jam jars and tangled power leads snake along muddy paths. All this, yet there’s an atmosphere of barely suppressed rage — way too many angry displaced people for it to be safe for Jiao. We head back to the park to settle in the cave formed by the belly of the concrete whale.

  Mikey is in heaven playing on the swings and slides with Travis — just as well, as Jiao’s so distracted it’s like she’s in a trance. She eats a wedge of bread and drinks a cup of tea brewed over at the campground, but her eyes have dulled to inward-staring holes and when I ask if she’s okay she doesn’t seem to hear.

  It’s obvious she’s worrying about her parents and it cuts me up to keep what Simon told me to myself. But what’s the point in telling her? She’s upset enough. The trouble is, it’s like Dad keeping those threatening letters secret: when you do find out the truth, you want to throttle all the people in the know.

  ‘How far is it from here to Eltham?’ she asks suddenly.

  ‘Not sure.’ I’m buggered if I’ll say. ‘Anyway, forget it. You heard what Simon said: the safest thing you can do right now is keep away.’

  ‘You don’t understand—’

  ‘I sure as hell do. But I’m trying to keep you safe.’ Funny, for a moment I have a weird sense of déjà vu. I’ve had very similar arguments with Dad, only in reverse.

  She picks up the pocket knife I used to cut the bread. Starts tracing its blade along the lines on her palm. Inches it towards her wrist. I can’t take my eyes off it. Now she’s flicking the blade across her skin, the point drawing tiny beads of blood.

  ‘Stop that!’ I shoot my hand out to snatch the knife away, but she’s too quick. She lays it on the ground behind her back.

  ‘Do you have any real idea what my parents sacrificed to raise me here?’ She stares me down like she’s a lawyer.

  My face heats up. ‘Enough to know they’d be destroyed if you carked it trying to save them.’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you? I just want to keep them safe. I don’t care about me.’

  ‘Well, I fucking do. You think I want to see another person dead? And what about Mikey? You think he’d cope with that?’

  ‘At least you’ve got Mikey and he’s got you. Ma and Ba are all I’ve got.’

  Jiao is crying now, tears leaking out between her fingers as she hides her face. I shuffle over to her, flick the knife away, and wrap my arms around her. She smells musky and slightly rancid, but then so do I. And she’s warm — soft and warm — as her head nestles into my shoulder. I stroke the back of her head, smoothing down her hair, feeling the heat radiate off her neck.

  ‘It’ll be okay,’ I say, though clearly it won’t.

  I can feel the movement of her mouth against my neck as she replies, but all I hear is smothered noise.

  ‘What?’

  She lifts her head, her face so close to mine her breath tickles my cheek. ‘I have to do something to save—’

  I kiss her mouth to shut her up. Stupid, I know. Just bloody instinct.

  I’m still trying to gauge if she’s responding when I hear a roar. A hand clamps down on my shoulder. Mikey stands over me, his face purple with rage.

  ‘Hate you, Ashy.’ He grabs my collar and hauls me to my feet. Smashes me in the nose with all his strength. ‘Jow Jow’s mine.’

  Pain splinters behind my eyes. I stumble. Trip over my feet and fall back to the ground, elbow first. This new explosion of pain is so intense I gag on bile. Then, bit by painful bit, I finger my nose. Yep, it’s so tender it must be broken. Fuck Mikey’s hormones. Wait till I get my hands on him …

  But the little shit has scarpered. ‘Leave him,’ I say to the others, who’ve been gawping open mouthed. ‘He’ll come back when he’s hungry.’

  I drag myself over to the drinking fountain to soak my T-shirt in water, pressing the wet wad against my nose to ease the pain. It doesn’t help, so when Travis offers me a shot of his whisky I don’t refuse. In fact, I don’t refuse four or five times. By my sixth shot, though, self-pity descends like a sticky fog. I can’t see through it. Don’t even want to try. Let them sort their own shit: I’ve had enough. I curl up right inside the whale and close my eyes, matching my breath to the steady throbbing of my nose. Ka-boom. Kaboom. Rudolf the fucking reindeer has nothing on me.

  I’m not sure how long I lie like this, but by the time I prop myself up and start to register the outside world again the sun is low behind the kowhai trees, and Jiao and Travis are locking horns. My nose still hurts like hell.

  ‘Come on. That’s stupid. They don’t have to do what they’re told.’ Travis’s voice is slurred.

  ‘You’re stupid.’ Jiao’s voice is spring-loaded. ‘Ignorant too. We’re raised to do as we’re told — and, if we don’t, the punishment is quick and harsh. Everyone’s terrified to step out of line.’

  ‘Well, more fool them. It’s not like they’re prisoners.’

  ‘Don’t you listen to the news? That’s exactly what they are.’ She sounds so furious I wouldn’t be surprised if she biffed him. And why not? Let’s have a free-for-all. Why should I be the only one to field a fist?

  ‘Fuck, where’s Mikey?’ I scramble to my feet.

  ‘No idea,’ Jiao says. ‘I checked around the park twice.’

  ‘Shit. Why didn’t you wake me? He could be bloody anywhere. Look, you’d better stay, in case he turns up — and anyway it’s not safe for you to be wandering about. Travis will have to keep you company.’

  Travis clambers to his feet and sways. ‘Nah, I’ll come too.’

  ‘You won’t,’ I say. ‘You’re pissed.’

  ‘Nah, truly — I’ll be fine.’ It’s so pathetic. He can hardly stand.

  ‘You’ll stay. I need you here for Jiao.’ She snorts, as if to say he couldn’t protect a bloody fly. ‘Yeah, well, maybe he can breathe on anyone who comes too close. That’d knock them out. I’ll check in every half hour in case he comes back on his own.’

  The park is full of kids from next door’s camping ground but Mikey’s nowhere to be seen. I search every possible hiding place — trees, pipes, toilets, Mother Hubbard’s giant shoe — it’s clear he’s not here. I go back to see if Jiao and Travis have any news, but Mikey hasn’t returned. Which means I’ll have to search outside the park.

  It’s kind of freaky how quiet the streets are here: no kids, no gardeners, no dog walkers, no bikes. It’s like the population’s simply vamoosed. I do a circuit of the roads around the park, but still no luck. The light is fading now, the temperature cooling down. I feel sick with nerves. What if he’s lost? What if some pervert or psycho’s lured him home? If I can’t find him soon, I’ll have to call the cops. He’s far too trusting to be out alone at night.

  Please, Mikey, please. Come back now.

  I check in with Jiao again. She’s on her own. ‘Where the hell is Travis? Don’t tell me he’s done a runner too.’

  ‘He’s gone in search of a landline to call his mum.’

  ‘Oh great, just what we need. What’s the bet Jeannie will blame me for his pisshead rantings. You’d better come with me, then. I don’t want you here alone.’

  ‘But what if Mikey comes back and we’re all gone?’

  ‘Shit, you’re right. Okay, but stay well at the back of the whale. Keep out of sight. Oh, and I’m sorry … you know. About the kiss. It didn’t mean anything.’ Jiao frowns. ‘No, no. I mea
n it was nice and everything, and obviously I like you or I wouldn’t have tried …’ All I’m doing is making things worse. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. ‘Anyway. I’m sorry.’

  I don’t wait around for her to dissect this. I’m guessing I’ve just blown whatever friendship we were starting to form. Head not balls, mate. Head not balls. Dad’s favourite saying right through my adolescent years.

  Where the hell is Mikey? I jog across the park and spread my search more widely, checking all the side streets I skipped before. By the time I reach the bridge a couple of kilometres away from the park I reckon I’ll have to turn back — but then I spot the entrance to a tunnel back along the road. Ding dong. It’s exactly the kind of place Mikey would love.

  The walls are lined with small white tiles, and the place is dimly lit by overhead fluorescent strips. I peer inside, but the tunnel’s so bloody long I can only vaguely see the other end. I step inside and start to run, the echo of my footsteps pinging off the walls. What the hell will I do if he’s not in here? What if he’s fallen in the river and this is a wild goose chase? Jeezus. If you’re out there, Dad, now would be a good time to help.

  I hate being hemmed in like this. If someone shuts the gates and locks me in, I’ll freak. It’s true. I have a recurring nightmare where I’m trapped inside a box deep underground and can’t get out, and every frickin’ time it wakes me up I’m gasping my last breath.

  There’s no sign of Mikey anywhere along the tunnel, and when I reach the other end I find there’s no exit after all. But there’s an elevator, go figure that. A sign says it’ll take me up the Durie Hill Tower. I push the buttons.

  The lift seems to take for ever before it grinds to a stop. I walk out on to a viewing deck to see the lights of Whanganui flicking on below. The river winds through the landscape like a silver-bellied eel, and I can make out the park and camping ground below me, the whale no more than a nondescript grey blob. The sun is setting now, lighting the horizon line. I see the thread of coast, the hint of Mount Taranaki’s perfect cone, and scan around in search of the three other mountains — Ruapehu, Tongariro and Ngauruhoe — but am distracted by a dirty great column of smoke rising in the north-west, in the direction of Eltham. Black smoke, the colour of disaster.

  I’m startled by a muffled cough and spin around. No one is behind me, so I edge my way around the circular platform till I’m opposite the lift entrance. And there he is, all hunched against the rising chill, chin on his knees. His face is streaked with grime and dried-up snot.

  He glowers at me as I approach, and for a moment it’s a toss-up whether to beat the crap out of him or cry. I let tears win. I’m just so bloody pleased to see him. I slither down beside him, grateful he doesn’t kick or run.

  ‘I’m sorry, mate. I wasn’t trying to steal your girl.’

  His bottom jaw is thrust so far forward he looks like a mutant pug. ‘Jow Jow’s mine.’

  ‘Actually,’ I say, ‘she’s no one’s. Not yours or mine.’

  ‘Mine.’ He folds his arms across his chest, shaking with cold.

  I peel my sweatshirt off and wrap it around his shoulders, drawing in a sharp breath as the breeze shears through my shirt. ‘She’s worried about you, mate. Come back. It’s time for tea.’

  ‘Want Dad. Want home.’

  I’m never going to stop him spouting this; I see that now. It’s going to be his new default, guaranteed to leave me feeling as miserable and helpless as him. Not that he’s doing it on purpose — he’s only cunning to a point. The trick is how to out-fox him when he’s in stubborn mode.

  ‘What say we use some of the money Simon gave me to buy hot chips? I saw a shop just down the road.’

  He drums his fingers on his chin, pontificating little twat. ‘Fizzy too?’

  I can’t help but laugh. Did I really think Mikey’s not cunning? Big fat wrong. He’s got me round his stubby little finger and he knows it. But, hell, I don’t care. I’ve found him and he’s safe — everything else is unimportant after that. I dig him in the ribs. ‘Yeah, fatso. Fizzy too.’

  Mikey takes minimal coaxing after that. We make our way back down the lift and through the tunnel, and I end up blowing thirty bucks on fish and chips. Bugger it, I’m cold and sore and hungry and I reckon I deserve it after all that stress. I get some ice from the chip shop too, and use it to help dull the throbbing in my nose. Jiao and Travis — who is back and uncommunicative — help us make short work of the food. Then, because I’m so relieved I’ve found the little bastard, I play spotlight with Mikey until he’s so exhausted he’s guaranteed to sleep.

  Only once I’ve tucked him in his sleeping bag and helped him drop off do I have time to think back over what’s happened. What the hell would I do if I hadn’t found him? Or if I didn’t have Mikey at all? There’d be no point in anything. I glance over at Jiao, who’s reading by the light of one small candle. I finally understand where she’s at. No family means no life. No love. Simple as that.

  It could already be too late for Jiao’s parents — that cloud of black smoke freaks me out. I daren’t tell her. Times like this I wish I still believed in fairy tales and magic happy-ever-afters. But, even if I could waggle my nose and materialise up there, the problem is that Simon said the farm compound is like a fortress. How the hell are we supposed to deal with that? You’d need to have an ‘in’. And a diversion. And bloody good nerves. You’d need someone who’s done this kind of thing before. You’d need … Oh fuck. Now there’s a random thought …

  I rouse Travis from his rat-arsed sulk. ‘Did you find a phone that worked?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Phone box in the camp.’

  ‘Did you speak to your mum?’

  ‘Ah ha.’

  Oh great, we’re down to sounds now, not even words. ‘What did she say?’

  ‘I bet you’d like to know.’

  ‘Yeah, actually I would.’ Screw him, he just ate nearly ten bucks’ worth of fish and chips. I reckon that’s a fair price for a few measly words.

  ‘She says there are riots breaking out. Looting too.’

  Jiao looks up from her book. ‘Did she have any news about Niúni Farms?’

  ‘I don’t know. She was far too busy screaming that if I don’t sober up and get my sorry arse to Inglewood she’ll cut me off.’

  ‘Wa-hoo! Go, Jeannie!’ I can’t resist it. I’m still pissed off with him myself. I know, I should join Hypocrites Anonymous, but drunks are bloody galling when you’re in need of help.

  ‘Fuck you.’ Travis wrestles with the opening of his sleeping bag, climbs in and turns his back.

  ‘Night, honey!’ I blow him a squelchy kiss. ‘Sleep well.’

  That, at least, scores me a tiny grin from Jiao. ‘How’s your nose?’ she asks.

  ‘I’ll live. The ice helped heaps. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got any good looks to ruin.’ I’m fishing of course, but she merely smiles and turns back to her book. ‘What are you reading?’

  ‘Romeo and Juliet.’

  I should’ve guessed. ‘Can’t beat a good romance for a little distraction, eh?’

  ‘Are you kidding? This play relates directly to what’s happening now.’

  ‘Isn’t it all balconies and flowery love scenes?’

  Jiao rolls her eyes and puts the book on her lap. ‘It’s about people fighting for status and wealth, taking sides at the expense of human lives. Ring any bells?’

  I’d already guessed she’s clever (I mean who reads that kind of shit when they don’t have to?) but it’s dawning on me now that she’s way out of my league. Not that I’m thick, but I’m betting her brain is like high-speed broadband, making millions of connections while I’m still dialling up.

  ‘Look, I really am sorry I upset you before. I don’t know what came over me.’

  She shrugs. ‘Forget it.’

  ‘You’re going to have to put Mikey straight. He’s head over heels for you.’

  She stares down at her b
ook for a moment. When she looks up, her expression is guarded. ‘I don’t suppose he understands the meaning of gay?’

  I laugh. ‘I doubt it. Why?’ But as soon as this stupid word leaves my lips, I know. How could I have been so thick? This is the girl who wants to prove there’s a gay gene. What a waste of those spectacular tits.

  My face must say it all, because Jiao nods. ‘Yep. Though no prizes for guessing that my parents don’t know.’

  ‘Would they care?’

  Now she laughs, though it’s bitter and harsh. ‘They want a grandchild to carry on the family name. It doesn’t matter to them that there’s already way too many babies in the world. A grandson would make up for keeping me.’

  She makes me feel so shallow and naive. I guess if you’re pushed out of home at five you grow up fast.

  ‘Jeez, no pressure then!’ I lean over Mikey to check he’s asleep. ‘Hey, I’m just going to make a couple of calls. I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.’

  I head off for the phone box in the campground, still piecing together what I’m going to say as I ring through to the lawyer’s private phone. I hope like hell she really meant it when she said I could call.

  ‘Lucinda speaking.’

  ‘It’s Ash McCarthy here.’

  ‘Ashley! Is everything all right? I was so worried when your friend’s mother rang to tell me about the train.’ She sounds so friendly, I have this flash of what it might have been like if she and Dad had got together. What a bloody waste.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, we’re good, sort of.’ I explain our unscheduled stop in Whanganui and how her mate Simon found us on the road. I don’t mention anything about nearly losing Mikey or the fact I’ve got a bloody painful broken nose, though they’re not exactly incidentals.

  ‘So Simon actually found you? God, it seemed like such a long shot. What a good guy.’

  ‘Listen Lucinda, I’ve got a really random request …’ It’s hard to sound genuine without giving the whole plan away. ‘Could you give me all the details you know about Mum? Like whereabouts you went to look for her?’