One Dead Seagull
Page 13
I survived. But only just.
Den phoned just before lunch. ‘They found you then?’ he asked. ‘Where did you get to? Your mum phoned here and she was panicking, mate.’
‘Went for a quick trip to Brisbane.’
‘Brisbane? Bullshit . . .’
‘Nah, serious.’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘How did you pull up after, you know, Pico and Griz and that?’ I asked. He was quiet for a long time.
‘Yeah, okay. Meet me at Game Zone?’
‘Yeah, maybe. Is Kerry there?’
There was a moment of silence. Just a little moment. Enough time for some hand signals and a bit of head shaking.
‘Nup. She’s not home. Don’t know where she is,’ Den said.
She was there all right.
‘Okay. I’ll see you at Game Zone. Half an hour,’ he said.
‘Yep.’
He hung up. I listened to the phone booping in my ear for a minute. She didn’t have to talk to me; I just wanted to know if she was there. If she was okay. I wanted to tell her that I missed her. I wanted to tell her that she was the biggest reason I had to come back from Brisbane. I bolted for the door.
‘Where are you off to?’ Mum asked in her matron’s voice.
‘Just going to Game Zone,’ I said and realised that’s what I’d said to her just before I nicked off. ‘I mean . . . I’m going to meet Den. I’ll be back for tea.’
She stood there with half a smile on her face.
‘Promise?’
‘Yeah. Promise.’
She flicked her hand at me and grumbled something under her breath.
An old couple live in the flat next door to ours and they have about a thousand roses growing in their front yard.
Not bad going really considering the front garden is as big as your average grave plot. Some of them were in full flower and I hunted through and found a red one that was just beginning to open. I looked at the front door of their flat and smelled the rose. One swift yank and the rose would have been mine but I couldn’t do it. It didn’t feel right. I walked in and rang the doorbell—weak electronic music chimed inside and the door sprung open.
‘Oh, hello,’ the old lady said and smiled.
‘Hi, I live next door . . .’
‘Yes, Wayne isn’t it?’
‘That’s right,’ I said and puzzled at how she knew my name. We had been neighbours for seven years. The mystery wasn’t how she knew my name; it was how I didn’t know her name.
‘All this time living next door and I still don’t know your name,’ I said and held out my hand. ‘I’m Wayne Armond.’ She chuckled and held my fingers. ‘Hello Wayne, I’m Ivy Pritchard.’
She smiled and looked over her shoulder. ‘Ted, it’s
Wayne from next door.’
The man with the smiling grey moustache who’d been next door for a million years appeared behind Ivy.
I held my hand out to him. ‘Wayne Armond,’ I said.
He took my hand. His skin was warm, loose and soft and his smile was genuine. His teeth looked like they were his own.
‘G’day Wayne, Ted Pritchard. What can we do for you?’ I felt rude. The first time I’d ever spoken to my neighbours and I came asking for stuff. Rude and awkward.
‘I was . . . looking at your roses and I wondered if I could pick a couple for . . . for my . . . for a present.’
Ted grunted and threw his head back.
Ivy smiled. ‘Of course, Wayne. I’ll grab the secateurs.’ She vanished into the flat. Ted looked at his slippers then walked outside shaking his head. ‘You don’t have to ask, Wayne. You can help yourself.’
‘Thank you.’
Ivy returned and began to hunt through the flowers.
‘What colour?’ Ted asked. He smiled. ‘Red, of course.’
‘Red would be great. Just one or two.’
Ivy and Ted picked through their rose bushes and gathered five beautiful red roses. Ivy darted inside with them.
Ted looked across the neighbourhood. ‘Might get a bit of rain.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Might.’
I looked at him and thought that he’d probably know.
‘That would be nice,’ I said.
Ivy came out with the flowers’ stems wrapped in aluminium foil. ‘There you are, Wayne.’
I thanked her and Ted.
Ted grunted again. ‘Anytime, Wayne. Help yourself or come over and get the secateurs.’
I walked onto the street, waved and thanked them again.
‘Good luck,’ Ivy said and smiled.
I smiled to myself, looked at the roses and then up the street. Griz was coming out of our driveway. My smile faded and I felt tight in the guts.
He stopped in his tracks and pointed over his shoulder.
‘Your mum just said that you’d gone to Game Zone.’
I looked at the roses and felt like a big girl. It’s hard to hold flowers and be tough.
‘Yeah, I had to get some flowers,’ I said, and he smiled. There was a moment of icy silence. ‘What do you want?’
I asked.
He shrugged. ‘I got you something,’ he said, gently reaching into his jacket. He couldn’t get hold of what was in there.
‘Ow, shit,’ he yelped and pulled his hand out. ‘Bit me, little bugger.’
There was a smile on his face and he unzipped his jacket a bit. I took a step back.
From the ‘V’ of his zip popped a little head. A puppy. All shiny black nose, golden fur, pink tongue and big brown eyes; its ears pointing to the sky.
Griz levered it out and shoved it at me, its legs kicking in the air.
‘Nah, I don’t want it,’ I said, and backed away another step.
The puppy looked at me. Its mouth snapped shut and its head tilted to the side.
‘Where did you get it?’ I asked.
‘My dog had pups. I picked out the best one for you.’ I looked at him suspiciously. ‘Why?’
‘Well, I know you haven’t got a dog and I know you like them. You’re always sticking up for that fat labrador at school and that.’
‘I couldn’t keep a dog here.’
‘Yeah you could. It’s bigger than my joint out the back. Just run a bit of a fence up the side . . .’
‘Nah.’
‘Yeah, come on. Take it please.’ He stepped closer and swapped the dog into his other hand. ‘It’s my way to say sorry.’
‘Sorry? What for?’
He rubbed his nose and looked at the footpath. ‘For cutting your hand off,’ he said.
I laughed, and he jumped. ‘You didn’t cut my friggin’ hand off. I did that all by myself.’
He shook his head. ‘Nah, I turned the tap off.’ He looked at my face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and shoved the puppy at me.
My head rattled with thoughts. Mum would kill me. It takes guts to say sorry. What would it eat? Dog food, der. It was an accident. I could take it for walks and that. Probably piss and shit everywhere.
‘It wasn’t your fault. Dad parked the wheelbarrow on the hose. It just happened.’
Griz’s shoulders dropped. ‘Yeah, but I turned the tap off.’
‘It happened,’ I growled. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. It was an accident. Shit like that happens.’
He looked me in the eyes and frowned. ‘Jesus, I shit myself when I heard all the screaming and that.’
I chuckled. ‘I bet you did.’
‘Yeah and I ran into some guy’s joint and just grabbed his phone and dialled triple zero to get an ambulance. They asked me all these questions and I’m going “Just fucking hurry up” and that, and the chick on the phone says “We’ll be there quicker if you tell us where you are” like a real smart-arse.’
I laughed and he smiled. I took the pup from him.
‘Thanks,’ he said and wiped his hand on his pants.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
He patted the pup in my hand and jogged off.
I half jogged to the Humes’ place—pup in one hand, flowers under my other arm—and rapped on the glass panel beside the door. I heard Kez yell from inside that she would get it. I smiled and put the puppy to my mouth. It smelled clean and sort of sweet as I kissed it and quickly tucked it behind my back. Kez ripped the door open and her face hardened into a frown when she saw it was me.
‘Hi,’ I said, and shrugged. ‘Just me. Happy New Year.’
‘What do you want?’
‘Um. I came around to . . . give you these,’ I said.
She looked at me puzzled and I must have looked like a retard, shaking my shoulder at her, trying to get her to take the flowers from my armpit.
Her face melted from a frown to a smile she was desperately trying to hide. Her eyes watered. She took the flowers and looked over her shoulder. ‘You ran away from home?’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘To Brisbane?’
‘Yeah. Pretty stupid really.’
She laughed. ‘Yep. You all right now?’
‘Yeah, fine. Fine.’ I turned slowly. ‘I’d like you to meet my little mate.’
She sucked an open-mouthed breath and came outside.
‘A puppy!’ she sighed. ‘It’s so cute! Where did you get it?’
‘From Griz.’
She stepped back. ‘The guy who beat Den up?’
I nodded. ‘It’s a long story. Can I come in?’
‘Yeah, I s’pose.’
She led me down the hall to her room and closed the door behind us. I put the pup on the floor and she sat on the bed with her arms crossed and cooed at it.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘A long time ago there was this boy who worked with his dad . . .’
She chuckled and I told her the story. Told her how Griz turned the tap off and phoned the ambulance. Told her about feeling like my life was stuffed when I lost my hand. Told her why Mandy kissed me at the beach.
She uncrossed her arms and I sat on the chair at her desk.
‘Why did you run away?’ she asked.
I sighed. ‘For lots of reasons. I thought I’d wrecked things with you. My mum and dad looked like they were getting back together and I didn’t think I could cope with that.’
‘Are they getting back together?’
‘Don’t think so. Richo gave Mum some flowers . . .’
She oohed and touched the foil around the roses on her bed. ‘So it wasn’t an original idea to give me flowers.’
My shoulders dropped. ‘No ...I guess not.’
My heart started beating in my throat. I had to tell her, even if it killed me. There was no other way.
‘I think you’re beautiful, Kez. I really love hanging out with you and that. I was sitting on a park bench in Brisbane and dreaming about home. I was wishing I was with you.’
She bent and picked up the puppy. She handed it to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hugged her, kissed her forehead and thanked her. Said sorry for any mistakes I’d made. Told her I had to get going. She grabbed my sleeve and dragged me towards the bed.
‘Nah, I’ve got to go,’ I said and tried to pull away.
Her shoulders dropped. ‘You don’t love me,’ she said, and poked her bottom lip out.
‘Yeah I do. I do. I’ve just got to go—I told Mum I’d be home for tea and she’s a bit sensitive about where I am and that at the moment.’
Kez grunted. ‘That’s fair.’
Den and Griz were playing a game of air hockey. One minute they’re beating the shit out of each other, next minute they’re having a game. I don’t understand the way that works. You wouldn’t exactly call them mates. Griz had just sunk the puck to make it five-all and Den was sweating, I could see it glistening on his lip. They took a breather and I showed Den the pup.
‘Gorgeous. Where’d you get it?’ I nodded at Griz.
Den, mouth open, pointed at the big bloke. Griz grunted, nodded and looked at his boot.
I told Den I had to go and he shrugged and went back to the table. I stuffed the bottom of my T-shirt into my pants and lowered the puppy down the neck hole. It scrabbled against my belly until I laughed out loud and Maru looked at me as if I was going spacko.
Mum had just dished up tea when I got home. I came into the kitchen and poked my belly at her. The pup hadn’t moved since I put it there and the bulge in my T-shirt made me look pregnant.
‘Mum. I’ve got something to tell you.’
She looked at me and smiled. ‘You’re not?’ The pup licked me. It tickled and I laughed. Mum took a step back. ‘What is it?’
I untucked my T-shirt and held the little dog out to her. She rolled her eyes and groaned. ‘Where did you get that?’
‘One of my mates gave it to me. It was a present.’
I thought about telling her the story of Griz but changed my mind. What would that gain? It was an accident. Can’t change the past. I was all right with that.
She stepped close and looked in the pup’s eyes. It licked at her face and she chuckled. She put her hands on her hips and sighed. ‘Where are you going to keep it? They get bigger, you know.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’m going to fence in the backyard and that.’
She smiled and patted the back of its head with her finger. ‘Has it got a name?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Its name is . . .’
I looked at the pup’s face and then at its belly. It was a boy.
‘Um . . . Ernie.’
Mum snorted. ‘Why Ernie?’ I shrugged. ‘I dunno.’
She shrugged back. ‘I dunno,’ she teased.
After tea, I went out the front and played with Ernie on the footpath. If I stayed close to him and kept calling his name, he followed. It’d take me three months to walk him around the block at that rate. I walked him past Ted and Ivy’s flat and looked at their front window. It started to rain. Ted appeared in the doorway.
‘What have you got there?’ he asked and chuckled.
‘It’s a puppy,’ I said and thought that I probably sounded like a three-year-old.
Ted just laughed. ‘Bit of a cutie,’ he said, turned inside and closed the door.
I picked up my dog and looked across my street and into the sky. The rain prickled nicely on my face. It was getting heavy. Ted was right. I decided to cut a lap of the block, get soaked, then go home.
acknowledgements
The following people made this book possible through their sweat, their stories and their big hearts: David Alldridge, Liam, Shaun, Jim, Joan, Belle, Jennie and Bryce Gardner, Darren Pilcher, Jason and Andrew Curry, Pauleigh Gardiner, John Marsden, Ron and Vonnie Ipsen, Dr Darra Murphy, Richard Gubbins, Geoff Block, June Reviére, Stuart Tripp, Darren Smith, Peter Little, the Gippsland Men, Shane Henry and all the young fellas. You’re all legends.
WHITE UTE DREAMING BY SCOT GARDNER
Dear Wayne,
Through the jungle I would slash, with my sword I’d crash and bash. All the demons I could smash
Just for one good body pash. Anon
When hot notes start arriving in Wayne’s locker, and his girlfriend didn’t write them, he doesn’t have to be a genius to work out that his life is about to get complicated. And then Wayne’s girlfriend moves house, leaving Wayne alone with the anonymous note-writer and a mad-arsed, yellow dog …
To find out more about Wayne Armond and Scot Gardner check out Scot’s website at:
http://www.scotgardner.com/
or email scot@scotgardner.com