Review of Australian Fiction, Volume 12, Issue 2
Page 7
‘Soph,’ Dom says before I can open my mouth, ‘I think… I think I might be to blame for you still being here.’
I stare at him in astonishment, and catch similar expressions from everyone else.
Dom rubs the back of his head, looks down. ‘I saw you, like, two months after we buried you. I could’ve shepherded you back—that’s what dingoes should do, my dad says—but I didn’t. I didn’t do anything, and you couldn’t go back to the afterlife.’
Soph is silent for a good long moment, staring at him. ‘No offense, Dom, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t the reason.’
She knows I’m to blame. God, she’s known all along—
‘I spoke your name,’ Melbo says, ‘right after the funeral. I’m so sorry. I know better than that.’
‘My grandma said I should have eaten your liver,’ Ae-Cha blurts out, because apparently confession is a game of one-upmanship. ‘I mean, when I noticed you weren’t resting easy. Better a banished spirit than a restless one. But how could I do that to my best friend?
‘Plus, blegh!’ Soph drawls, and Ae-Cha laughs, cheeks flushing. She raises an eyebrow at me, and shakes her head. ‘You’re all a bunch of idiots. You’re the best, but you’re dumb as. I’m pretty sure there’s only one reason I stuck around, and it wasn’t you jaywalking over my grave.’
‘So, what’s the answer?’ Dom asks.
She pats the lump beneath his jacket. ‘That’s between me and my skull. Tell you when I come back, maybe.’
‘Well, then I guess it’s time to say goodbye,’ says Melbo, slicking his hair out of his eyes. Maybe it’s tears he’s blinking back, or maybe just seawater.
Dom stands and envelops Soph in a hug. ‘It’s not goodbye,’ he says, ‘but see ya.’
He cackles and holds tight, but Soph gets a hand free to punch him in the arm. He comes away smeared gold but grinning. The farewells are much more lighthearted after that.
At last Soph draws back from the group hug. ‘Thanks for a night to remember, you guys. And, you know, here’s hoping Dion doesn’t pull some massively ironic bullshit, so we get to have more.’
She picks up her head and glances at Ae-Cha with a raised eyebrow; Ae-Cha fishes her phone out to check the time. I never thought I’d be grateful for those sites that split the difference between twilights down to the minute. Hell, I never thought I’d know what civil, nautical, and astronomic twilights were, or have reason to care.
Ae-Cha seesaws her hand. ‘Two minutes, tops.’
‘Thanks, babe. Liv?’ Soph tips her head. ‘Got a minute?’
Ae-Cha throws me a look I can’t quite interpret, but it’s an easy answer. I walk with Soph the couple of metres down the jetty to where an ancient flight of sandstone steps disappears into the water.
‘Just in case this is it, I wanted to tell you, too,’ she begins. When the pause goes on a few beats longer than expected, I turn my head to look at her. The delicate light has given her profile a dreamlike cast, like a portrait emerging from watercolours. I lean in a little closer. Want to carve this image into my bones. ‘I really, really love this harbour,’ she says, not looking at me, shoulder hard against my own. ‘I—’
She turns, and presses a fierce kiss to my lips. Pulls back just as sharp, as I recoil in surprise. Her hand flies to her mouth.
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry. God, I’m dumb. I thought you…’
‘No,’ I say, then quickly, ‘no, not like that! I mean, yes. Soph—’ I lean in again, question on my face. She meets me halfway. Her snakes tangle through my hair as I kiss her deeply. I don’t even care about the tang of glitter on my tongue.
‘Don’t go,’ I say, leaning my forehead against hers, bunching my fist in her red-and-gold top. The shadows are fading from the sky, the new year finally dawning.
‘Babe,’ she says, eyes shining in the growing light, ‘I came back for you once already. I don’t care if a whole pantheon of gods doublecross me—I swear, I’ll haunt the hell out of you.’
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