Pool

by Justin D'Ath

  The first butterfly arrived within thirty seconds. It darted twice around Audrey’s hand, then landed on the base of her thumb. She tensed.

  ‘I can feel something,’ she whispered.

  ‘Feet,’ Wolfgang told her. ‘It’s an Australian lurcher. Orange and brown. Quite pretty.’

  ‘It tickles!’

  ‘Butterflies taste with their feet, did you know that?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Do you want to touch it?’

  Audrey shook her head again, her face tight with concentration. ‘Tell me what it’s doing.’

  ‘It’s feeding. You don’t have to whisper.’

  ‘Can’t they hear?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Wolfgang, watching a female orange lacewing flicker overhead, a smaller male dancing attendance around her. ‘But noise doesn’t seem to bother them.’

  ‘This is so cool!’ Audrey said.

  A green triangle came next, then another lurcher, then a big blue Ulysses. Wolfgang named and described each butterfly as it arrived. Soon, six insects had settled on Audrey’s hand and wrist; several more circled. A man with a small boy on his shoulders stopped to watch.

  ‘Here,’ Wolfgang said, and gently took some of the weight of Audrey’s raised arm. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

  With his other hand he bent her elbow, bringing her scented wrist within centimetres of her face. When a big male birdwing flew down, its flashing green and yellow wings brushed across Audrey’s eyelashes and cheek.

  She drew in her breath. ‘Was that –?’

  ‘Wings,’ Wolfgang told her.

  Audrey’s mouth quivered and two tears gathered on the lower lids of her sightless blue eyes.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

  She nodded. ‘I’m just happy.’

  Twenty or twenty-five minutes later, when finally Wolfgang was able to coax her away from the butterflies, Audrey stopped him in the middle of the road outside the Elephant Village, felt along his arm for his hand and gently turned him towards her.

  ‘Thank you, Wolfgang,’ she said up into his face. ‘That was the loveliest thing anybody’s ever done for me.’

  14

  Wolfgang wished he hadn’t taken Keith’s four hundred dollars. The whole thing felt wrong. Dishonest. It wasn’t fair on Audrey. She’d been so grateful to him on the way back from the zoo. He didn’t want her gratitude, didn’t deserve it. Part of him wished he could simply give Keith’s money back and forget the whole deal. But it was too late for that. He and Audrey’s father had an agreement. Wolfgang had taken the money, now it was up to him to keep his end of the bargain. It was only for a week, he rationalised. Less than that – six more days. Then he could tell Keith it wasn’t working and walk away with a clear conscience. And with four hundred dollars.

  At lunchtime on Wednesday, Wolfgang made his way over to the shade of the peppercorn tree by the fence. He patted Campbell on the head, then reached carefully across Audrey and pulled the earphone jack out of her MP3 player. She didn’t move.

  ‘Audrey?’

  She gave a start. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Hi, it’s me. Do you want to go for a walk?’

  Audrey reached up under her hat – it was the new pink one today – with both hands and touched her earpieces. ‘Hi,’ she said, sounding distracted.

  ‘It’s unplugged.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your MP3,’ Wolfgang said. ‘I unplugged the earphones as a joke. Would you like to go for a walk?’

  ‘A walk.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s my lunchbreak. I thought we could walk into town and get something to eat, then maybe take it to the botanical gardens or somewhere.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Audrey. Her face was flushed nearly as pink as her hat; perspiration beaded her upper lip and hairline. ‘I don’t actually feel hungry at the moment.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Wolfgang met the sad brown eyes of the labrador lying listlessly on the bare ground beside her and gave a little shrug. He felt sorry for Campbell. What sort of life was it for a dog, forced to stay in one spot all day, doing nothing? ‘I, um ... I’d better be getting back.’

  Audrey sat up and stretched, revealing poorly shaved underarms. Today she wore a blue sleeveless top with a matching blue skirt, and black trousers under the skirt. ‘I thought you were on your lunch-break,’ she said, unscrewing the cap from her water bottle.

  ‘I am. But I have to go and buy it – my lunch, I mean.’ He waited while she drank. Probably he should make one more effort. He owed it to Keith. ‘Can I get you anything?’ he asked.

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll see you later.’

  That was it then. Wolfgang left her and walked out into the sunshine with its palette of green grass and multi-coloured towels and pale oiled bodies. He had fulfilled his obligation for the day. Given it his best shot. Two days down, five to go.

  ‘Wolfgang,’ Audrey said behind him.

  He pretended not to hear, aware of all the eyes on him. Of all the ears listening.

  ‘Wolfgang?’ she repeated, louder.

  Quickly he retraced his steps. ‘What is it?’ he said, his voice lowered.

  Audrey twisted the pink hat in her fingers. ‘I guess you’ve already made plans for tomorrow?’

  ‘I’m working.’

  ‘I meant after work,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow night.’

  New Year’s Eve. ‘There’s a party I’m thinking of going to,’ Wolfgang said. And immediately regretted mentioning it. She might expect him to invite her. How would he explain Audrey to his friends? More importantly, how would he explain his friends – a bunch of fifteen-and sixteen-year-olds – schoolboys – to Audrey?

  ‘But I’m not much into parties,’ he added. ‘What are you doing tomorrow night?’

  15

  A drawer scraped noisily open. Wolfgang blinked in the harsh glare of his bedroom light. He was sweaty and disoriented. He’d been dreaming that he was swimming up the slope of the pool; the harder he swam, the more the water tipped, until finally he was being pushed backwards towards the wheelchair ramp, where a fearsome creature, half-human, half-butterfly, awaited him.

  ‘Dad?’ he said. ‘What are you doing?’

  His father, wearing brown cotton pyjamas, stooped over Wolfgang’s desk methodically emptying one of the drawers and placing its contents in a row along the desktop. He seemed unaware of his son’s presence.

  ‘Are you awake, Dad?’

  ‘It’s in here somewhere,’ the old man said, positioning a box of pins on the desk next to two pairs of scissors.

  Wolfgang glanced at the clock on his bedside table. 1:15 a.m. ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘I know you’ve taken it.’

  ‘Taken what?’ Wolfgang asked, rolling out of bed.

  Leo regarded him with vacant eyes. His wispy white hair stood out from his head like spider webs and his mouth was a gummy black hole in the shrunken lower part of his face. Without his false teeth, he looked like an escapee from a psychiatric ward.

  ‘My own son,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘Are you okay, Dad?’

  The old man brushed past and lifted down one of the cases of mounted butterflies from the wall above Wolfgang’s bed. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice?’ he asked.

  ‘Notice what?’

  ‘This isn’t yours.’

  ‘You gave that to me.’

  ‘What nonsense! I might be getting old, but I’m not stupid. You took it out of my study.’

  Old and stupid, Wolfgang thought, returning the scissors, the pins and a box of thread to the drawer.

  ‘Did I ever take you to New Guinea?’ Leo asked.

  Wolfgang sighed. They’d had this conversation a hundred times. ‘No, Dad, I haven’t been to New Guinea.’

  His father was holding the heavy case at arms’ length, studying the jewel-bright butterflies pinned to the black felt lining. ‘We’ll have to go there, Edward,’ he said. ‘Just you and I.�
�

  ‘Okay,’ Wolfgang answered, not bothering to correct him. Edward – or Teddy, as he was called by the media – was Leo’s son by his first marriage.

  Rhodes scholar, owner of a racehorse stud in Tasmania, married to the daughter of a former Governor General – how could Wolfgang compete?

  ‘Your mother can stay home. No place for a woman, New Guinea.’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘It’s an extraordinary country. Not just for its butterflies, but the bird life, too.’ The old man’s stick-thin arms were beginning to quiver from the strain of holding the heavy display case. ‘Have you ever seen a bird of paradise, Edward?’

  ‘Here, let me take that.’

  ‘Keep your hands off!’

  ‘You’re going to drop it, Dad.’

  ‘Did I ever take you to New Guinea?’

  Wolfgang saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. His mother stood in the doorway wearing a nightie and a concerned frown.

  ‘Leo, why don’t you put the butterflies down now?’ she said gently.

  The old man turned to face her. ‘Look what I found – my New Guinea collection.’

  ‘Aren’t they beautiful,’ said Sylvia. ‘Why don’t you put them on the desk and come back to bed?’

  ‘The boy stole it from my study.’

  ‘Wolfgang didn’t steal it, Leo. You gave it to him.’

  ‘He stole it.’

  Wolfgang raised his eyebrows at his mother. ‘Dad and I are going to New Guinea. A collecting trip.’

  ‘Are you?’ she said, playing along. ‘What a lovely idea.’

  Leo looked sheepish. ‘I was saying to the boy that you probably wouldn’t want to come.’

  ‘You’re quite right, dear,’ Sylvia said. ‘You and Wolfgang go. But let’s all go back to bed for the moment.’

  ‘New Guinea,’ said Leo, laying the case carefully on Wolfgang’s bed. He tapped the glass, pointing at a small yellow butterfly down in the bottom corner. ‘After rains, Edward, you see these ones in their thousands, swirling in the sky in clouds like yellow confetti.’

  He allowed his wife to lead him slowly from the room.

  16

  As soon as they were inside the gates, Audrey knelt and released Campbell from his harness.

  ‘You probably think I’m wacky,’ she said.

  Wolfgang watched the pale outline of the labrador go gliding off into a dark thicket of headstones. ‘It isn’t exactly where I would have thought to go to see in the New Year.’

  ‘You said you didn’t like parties.’

  ‘That’s true,’ he admitted. ‘But when you said we’d go somewhere to watch the fireworks, I didn’t expect it to be the cemetery.’

  ‘We can go someplace else, if you like.’

  ‘No, no. This is fine. It’s just a little weird, that’s all.’

  Audrey was strapping Campbell’s harness to the outside of her backpack. ‘Besides,’ she said, ‘there’s a very good view from here.’

  How did she know?

  ‘That settles it then,’ said Wolfgang. He reached for the backpack, which was a lot heavier than he had expected. ‘Here, let me carry this for a bit.’

  Audrey had her cane. She led the way down one of the shadowy paths, tap-tapping the gravel ahead of her in a jerky, sweeping motion. Wolfgang walked at her elbow and half a pace behind. He was surprised at the speed she was making, at her assurance. Unlike their day at the zoo, when she had relied on him to guide her, tonight in the darkness of the unlit cemetery Wolfgang was the blind one, Audrey the guide. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. When they met another path running at right angles to the one they were following, Audrey began veering left even before her cane met the low concrete edging that signalled the turn. Every so often Campbell would materialise out of the night as if to check on their progress, then go loping off in another direction to be lost once more in the darkness. It seemed inappropriate, Wolfgang thought, to exercise a dog in the cemetery, yet it was good to see Campbell enjoying a bit of freedom after his boring days at the pool.

  They were climbing. Ahead Wolfgang could see a horizon toothed with headstones. There was a pale glow in the belly of the overcast sky. When they reached the crest of the hill, the lights of the town rose and spread before them, ruining what little vision Wolfgang had of their immediate, unlit surroundings. He stumbled and fell behind.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Audrey asked, turning back.

  ‘It’s the lights from town. I can’t see where I’m going.’

  ‘Here, take hold of my arm. I know the way.’

  She led him, shuffling his feet, between the last of the headstones and down a wide dark slope directly towards the lights. They were in the lawn cemetery, where the graves were marked by plaques set flush in the ground. Every few metres his runners would scrape over something solid.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Wolfgang asked.

  ‘Down here a bit,’ Audrey said. ‘Not much further.’

  They had come here to watch the fireworks – so he could watch the fireworks – but the further down the slope they went, the less likely it seemed that he would be able to see them. Already a bank of trees was rising up between them and the town.

  Audrey led him almost all the way to the trees.

  ‘This’ll do,’ she said finally. ‘You’ll get a good view from here, Wolfgang. Give me the backpack.’

  She pulled out a blanket and spread it on the grass between two plaques. Now that the trees blocked most of the lights, Wolfgang found his eyes adjusting to their darkened surroundings. They were in the newest part of the cemetery; he could see pale bouquets of flowers on several of the nearby graves.

  ‘Aren’t you going to sit?’ Audrey asked.

  He sat down and she pressed a cold can into his hand. It was too dark to see what it was. ‘Happy New Year,’ she said.

  ‘Happy New Year.’

  They clinked cans. Wolfgang could hear a party somewhere on the other side of the trees – loud music, voices, the occasional trill of female laughter. He opened his drink and took a cautious sip, expecting beer, but this was sweeter – cola with a burn of spirits. Bourbon? Whatever it was, he liked it better than beer. He had another swallow.

  ‘What time is it?’ Audrey asked.

  He tried to angle his watch to capture what little light filtered through the barrier of trees. ‘Eleven fifty-six.’

  ‘Phew! I didn’t mean to cut it so fine.’

  ‘My fault,’ said Wolfgang. ‘I’m a little slow in the dark.’

  ‘Lucky you were with an expert,’ Audrey said.

  Campbell arrived in a cyclone of huffing breath and wet tongue. Wolfgang pushed him away, spilling drink on his shorts and across his thigh. Beside him, Audrey captured the dog in a one-armed hug.

  ‘We missed you too, you big sook!’ she said in a playful voice.

  Then Campbell was gone again and it was just the two of them. Wolfgang wiped his thigh with a corner of the blanket. He was shivering. It wasn’t cold. New Year’s Eve and he was alone with a girl on a blanket. In the dark. Drinking alcohol. Anything could happen.

  She wants it to happen, he thought.

  Should he kiss her? No, it would be better to wait a while, not to seem too eager. He was supposed to be a university student. Nineteen or twenty. Mature. Experienced. They should talk first.

  ‘Do you have any New Year’th retholutionth, Audrey?’

  ‘Hey, what’s with the lisp?’ she asked.

  ‘Thorry.’ He took a long, slow drink from his can. Relax, he told himself. You’ll wreck everything if you don’t act cool about this. Take a deep breath. Talk slowly. ‘It’s not ... something ... I can control.’

  There was a long silence. They sipped their drinks.

  ‘I’m learning to swim,’ Audrey said.

  Wolfgang remembered her on the wheelchair ramp, how she’d plunged her head beneath the pool’s blue surface. ‘Are you taking ... lessons?’

  ‘No. But
I’m going to. That’s my New Year’s resolution. What’s yours?’

  ‘Mine?’ he said, feeling foolish. He had only been trying to make conversation. ‘I’m going to ... discover a new kind of butterfly.’

  ‘That’s not a resolution,’ Audrey said. ‘It has to be something about yourself that you’re going to change.’

  ‘Okay. I’m going to change from being someone who hasn’t discovered a new butterfly, to someone who has.’

  She laughed. ‘You nong! Is there anything in your life that isn’t about butterflies?’

  ‘There’s you,’ he said recklessly.

  On the other side of the trees, the party goers had begun a countdown. Five, four, three, two, one! There was cheering, a horn blared, distant voices began singing Auld Lang Syne.

  ‘Happy New Year, Wolfgang,’ Audrey said, her face looming pale against the surrounding darkness.

  They bumped noses. He returned her kiss, a clumsy peck on the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, pulling away.

  ‘What on earth are you sorry for?’

  ‘I’m not a very good kisser.’

  Why did he say that? Just go with it, you idiot! Wolfgang told himself. She wants it. She wants you!

  But he couldn’t. It was wrong. She thought he was older than he was. She thought he was here because of her, not because her father was paying him. Because it was his job.

  ‘Wow!’ he said. ‘Look at the fireworks!’

  Through a gap in the trees, a giant silver and blue chrysanthemum had blossomed across the night sky. The muffled boom followed two seconds later.

  ‘Are they pretty?’ asked Audrey.

  ‘Yeah, they’re not bad.’

  Her hand found his on the blanket and grasped it. ‘Tell me what they look like.’

  Wolfgang couldn’t see most of them – they were hidden by the trees – so he had to work from his memory of other fireworks displays. It felt like lying – it was lying – but he was doing it to protect her feelings. He hadn’t asked her to bring him to this spot that offered no view of the fireworks. He hadn’t asked her to kiss him, nor to hold his hand. Hang out with her, was the job description.