Crooked Leg Road

by Jennifer Walsh

They had left just before dawn.

  ‘I don’t want to drive at night,’ Alex had said. ‘I wouldn’t be able to tell if we were being followed.’

  ‘Who’d be following us?’ asked David. His father didn’t answer. He drove around aimlessly for a while, checking the rear-vision mirror often. Eventually he got onto the freeway heading south.

  ‘Dad,’ said David rather timidly. ‘Andrea thought she saw the same men again. She thought they were after her but do you reckon they were after me?’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Last night. She made us run and hide, but I didn’t actually see anyone, I just heard footsteps behind us. They’d been following me back home from the pool.’

  ‘Well, there you go,’ said Alex. ‘It’s much more likely they were interested in you than in her. Almost certain, in fact. Either way, it’s time we got you out of town.’

  ‘I feel bad,’ said David. ‘I should have believed her.’ He reached for his phone.

  ‘What are you doing?’ His father spoke sharply.

  ‘I just want to text Andrea and tell her I—’

  ‘No!’ His father grabbed at the phone. ‘No, David. Turn it off and take the battery and the SIM card out.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You can be traced by your phone, even if it’s not on,’ his father told him. ‘Leave the bits in the car and I’ll stash them somewhere at home.’

  David almost dropped the phone in his haste to pull it apart.

  ‘Anyway, where exactly are we going?’ he asked.

  ‘You’ll see.’

  The road grew wider and the buildings sparser. Their little car shuddered along, surrounded by enormous trucks, the only other traffic going in their direction. Alex kept glancing at the GPS on the dashboard.

  ‘Right,’ he murmured. ‘This’ll be it.’

  He swung onto a big, complicated cloverleaf intersection and soon they were travelling north-west on another major road.

  ‘We seem to be going a long way round,’ said David, trying to seem cool and calm. ‘First in one direction and then in another.’

  ‘That’s the idea.’

  No other cars had taken the exit with them, and Alex was visibly more relaxed now. After ten minutes or so they spotted a garden centre with a cafe attached, and Alex pulled into the parking area.

  ‘Fancy some breakfast?’

  ‘You bet,’ said David.’

  Tucking into raisin toast, he asked, ‘Now can you tell me where we’re going?’

  ‘We’re heading for the Blue Mountains,’ said Alex.

  ‘Definitely the long way round, then. And who am I supposed to be hiding from?’

  ‘Tell you when we’re on the road.’

  Back in the car, Alex placed his takeaway coffee in the cup holder and started the engine.

  ‘Okay, what do you know about the former Yugoslavia?’ he began.

  ‘Ummm – not sure where that is.’

  ‘Okay, fine. You know where Bosnia is? And Croatia?’

  ‘Sure,’ said David. ‘There’s a Bosnian girl in my class.’

  ‘And what about Kosovo?’

  ‘Just a bit,’ said David. ‘It’s further east, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said his father. ‘Those places, and several others, used to be all lumped together and called Yugoslavia. When they broke apart, in the nineties, there was a lot of trouble: different ethnic groups at war with each other, and Muslims being attacked by non-Muslims – I’d hesitate to call them Christians.’

  ‘Right,’ said David. ‘Don’t they still have landmines?’

  ‘That’s true. It was all pretty ugly.’ Alex frowned at the road ahead. ‘Anyway, as I said, there were more places, large and small. I’d be surprised if you’ve heard of Dardania?’

  ‘No, sorry.’

  ‘It’s a bit like Kosovo, only smaller,’ said Alex. ‘There were similar issues. A lot of people were killed.’

  ‘Why?’

  Alex sighed. ‘There was always a lot of hatred between different groups. Dardania was particularly divided, and the Muslims there had a hard time. There were also people who were prepared to take advantage of the situation, including one Filip Aleksijevic, the chief of police of a small town.’

  ‘Was he Muslim?’

  ‘No, and he had it in for the Muslims in his town. He surrounded himself with some nasty types, and they went around creating havoc. But he used the hatred that was there as an excuse to cheat people and, basically, to steal their money.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘It was pretty widely known what Aleksijevic had been up to, so when things settled down a bit he was declared a war criminal and the International War Crimes Tribunal went after him, but he had disappeared.’

  ‘Not surprisingly.’

  ‘Indeed. And with him went most of the village’s money, probably transferred to Swiss banks. So.’ Alex frowned at the road. ‘This was a few years ago, and the trail went cold. Then, would you believe, Aleksijevic is spotted here in Australia.’

  ‘Who saw him?’

  ‘Amazingly enough, some people from the same town. They had got out before all the trouble, and found their way to Perth. They knew Aleksijevic well, and they knew what he had been up to. They got a terrible shock, seeing him in Perth, and they were scared. So they contacted the federal police, and we got the case. It’s taking a while, like all legal things, but with the help of these witnesses we’ll soon be able to nab him.’

  ‘Okay,’ said David, ‘but I still don’t see where I come in?’

  ‘This was all supposed to be secret,’ said his father. ‘We were worried that if Aleksijevic knew we were onto him he might disappear again before we’d collected all the evidence we need. We’re not sure, but we think he suspects something. He’s relocated to Sydney in the last few months, and seems keen to keep a low profile, but he’s still wheeling and dealing, under a false name of course.’

  ‘What would he do if he thought you knew?’

  ‘He might try to find our witnesses and eliminate them,’ said Alex. ‘Without them, we won’t be able to prove this person really is Aleksijevic. And one way he could find the witnesses would be to threaten someone who knows where they are. Someone like me.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be scared of him!’ said David.

  ‘It might not be me he’s actually threatening to harm,’ said his father, glancing sombrely across at him. David’s heart lurched.

  22

  BY THURSDAY Kitty was starting to feel that she was growing a sort of shell that would protect her from whatever was to come. Rebecca’s remark about being weird had burrowed into her brain, and she peered into the bathroom mirror that morning and contemplated chopping off her long plait. If she had spiky hair like Andrea, maybe she could be one of those scary people who don’t seem to mind if they’re liked or not. She could get some hair dye from the chemist, too – maybe go for a rainbow effect.

  She imagined her mother’s reaction, and decided that the new shell wasn’t quite thick enough for that yet.

  When she got to the bus stop, Skender was there. She stepped back quickly, almost annoyed. It was going to be even harder to avoid him if she had to watch out here as well.

  She let the school special go and waited for the slower local bus, knowing it would make her late.

  At school, it was like trying to find a path through quicksand. She had to avoid Hephzibah and Ngoc, especially at lunchtime when she got the impression they were patrolling the school grounds, looking for her. She wanted to keep away from Larissa and Camilla, because around them she seemed to have lost her cloak of invisibility and she couldn’t stand their disdainful looks. As if this weren’t enough, whenever she fled from one of these groups she would see Skender in the distance heading towards her, so she would have to change direction again.

  Finally, towards the end of lunchtime, she found a spot under a tree as far away from the school buildings as she could get.

  When the bell s
ounded she heard it faintly, and as she got to her feet she noticed someone else on the other side of the tree. It was Rebecca.

  ‘Not you!’ said Rebecca, closing a book and putting it in her bag.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Kitty.

  They walked towards the classrooms together.

  ‘Mr Wong says I have to team up with Camilla for that Science thing,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘Well,’ said Kitty, ‘I can tell you exactly what that would be like.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I’m working with her clone.’

  ‘Hmmm.’

  ‘We could meet at lunchtime tomorrow,’ said Kitty, ‘and combine our results so far. Then we could just tell Mr Wong that we’re doing it together.’

  ‘You’ve got chess club tomorrow,’ Rebecca pointed out.

  ‘I’m not doing that any more.’

  ‘You’ll probably get a better offer.’

  ‘I won’t, Rebecca,’ said Kitty. ‘I’ll meet you in our Science classroom at lunchtime tomorrow. Okay?’

  Rebecca shrugged. ‘If you’re there, you’re there.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  The school day dragged to a close. Kitty got to the bus stop early and crept into a seat at the very back. Other people crowded on, and she buried her face in a book.

  When she got off at her stop, Skender was standing in front of her.

  ‘I’m trying really hard to stay away from you,’ she said.

  ‘Well, I’ve been looking for you all day. We have to talk.’ He inclined his head. ‘Let’s go to Mort Bay.’

  She followed him down the hill, mystified. It was overcast and humid, with an an eerie light hanging over the grey water of Mort Bay. The big playing area was a hubbub of small children. Skender walked a little way around the water and sat on one of the seats looking back towards the wharf. Kitty hunched on the seat, keeping her distance.

  Skender scuffed his feet in the loose gravel.

  ‘Your friend, David Newman. Is he related to Alex Newman?’ he demanded.

  ‘Of course. Alex is his father.’

  ‘David Newman is the boy you’re looking for?’

  ‘Yes. Skender, what’s this about?’

  ‘Tell me everything that’s happened.’

  ‘No. I’m not saying anything until you tell me some stuff. Like, who are you really?’

  ‘I can’t say,’ said Skender.

  ‘We’re stuck, then,’ said Kitty firmly.

  ‘All right,’ said Skender. ‘I’ll tell you as much as you need to know, but you have to keep it to yourself.’

  ‘Well, you can stop right there,’ said Kitty. ‘My brother Martin and my friend Andrea are in this too. I’m not keeping any secrets from them.’

  ‘You are stubborn like a horse,’ sighed Skender.

  ‘I think that’s a mule,’ said Kitty, ‘and so are you. By the way, I’m really, really sorry about spying on you. David’s grandfather says David hasn’t been kidnapped after all, so it turns out we were wrong about that. He’s somewhere safe.’

  ‘But you were right to think that he was in danger,’ said Skender. ‘I heard my parents talking. I don’t think your friend is safe at all.’

  23

  DAVID jogged up the bush trail behind the house, glancing at the sky occasionally. There were faint rumblings of thunder, and dark clouds were rolling in across the mountains, but that often seemed to happen in the afternoons. It wouldn’t necessarily lead to rain.

  Adam had said it was all right to go running as long as he stayed away from the road. There was a whole network of narrow paths, some marked out for bushwalkers and some made by animals, and David was getting to know his way around. On his favourite routes he would go right up and over the ridge or down to a series of shallow rockpools to the south, where he sometimes took a quick dip.

  It would be nice if he could do some proper swimming. He missed the salt water, but he liked the smell of the eucalyptus forest and Adam was pretty cool as a companion. David had been surprised to learn who he would be staying with, but he realised immediately that Adam was a perfect choice. Adam was easygoing and talked to David as if he were an adult. When he was in the house he liked to play loud rock music, old stuff that David didn’t recognise, but he spent many hours each day working in silence in his studio behind the house. The only sound then was the constant background noise of birds and insects. Adam could identify every birdcall, and sometimes he would stop talking mid-sentence and say, ‘Shhh! Hear that unearthly wail? There’s a catbird in that grevillea over there,’ or ‘You’re gonna hear a whipbird in a minute. He’s just getting warmed up.’

  At night, the frogs in the creek could be deafening. They would start up at dusk, and then again when the lights were turned off at bedtime. If it rained, they carolled all night. Mostly, though, they responded to any movement or changes in light.

  ‘They’re better than a watchdog,’ said Adam. ‘No one’s gonna sneak up on us with them around.’

  The house felt as ancient as the bush around it, as if it had grown out of the ground.

  ‘It was built by an old uncle of mine,’ explained Adam, ‘a real bushie. Back in those days this area hadn’t been declared a national park, and he just kind of squatted here and made the house out of whatever he could find. I got it from him donkey’s years ago and they can’t kick me out, but I won’t be able to pass it on to anyone.’

  ‘It’s fantastic,’ said David. ‘You’d never think there was anyone living here. I can see why Dad thought this was a good idea.’

  ‘Yeah. Not many people realise I know your dad, but we go way back,’ said Adam. ‘I taught him art at school, you know.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yeah. Back in a previous life I earned a proper living in a poncy boys’ school. No disrespect to your dad, of course.’

  ‘Sure. Was he any good at art?’

  Adam chuckled. ‘He tried hard.’

  The first night, Adam drove into town and came back with pizza.

  ‘Good tucker?’ he said.

  ‘Mmmm,’ said David. Moshe made great pizza, mixing up the dough himself and adding all sorts of inventive toppings. This was bland and soggy.

  ‘We won’t be doing this too often,’ said Adam. ‘Best not to advertise the fact that I’ve got company, and anyway the budget won’t stretch to takeaway every day.’

  David had overheard a discussion about finances. His father had tried to press some money on Adam, who had refused to take it.

  The next few nights Adam worked through his full repertoire of meals.

  ‘It’s either a boil-up or a fry-up,’ he said. ‘Which do you prefer?’

  Having tried both, David said, ‘I’ll make dinner tonight, if you like.’

  ‘You can cook?’

  ‘Sure. There’re a few things I can do okay. I could give you a list of ingredients to buy.’

  Adam was fulsome in his praise of David’s cooking, and they settled into a comfortable routine. Adam worked on his painting all day while David read, explored and dabbled with the schoolwork he had brought. In the evening David cooked and they ate together, played chess or Scrabble by the light of the kerosene lantern, and went to bed early. At least, David went to bed early. Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night to hear music playing softly, and once he got up to see Adam sprawled by candlelight on the old couch on the verandah, a glass of red wine in his hand, a few red drops sparkling in his greying beard.

  Adam didn’t have a mobile phone – there was no point, he said, because reception was virtually non-existent in this valley – and he often left the hall phone off the hook. The handset was clunky and old-fashioned. Adam didn’t use it to communicate with David’s parents; instead, he made occasional calls from the town to someone called George, who acted as an intermediary. There never seemed to be any news. David knew that no one apart from his family had been told where he was, and he couldn’t communicate with any of his friends. As time went on the novelty of his situ
ation was wearing off, and he found himself missing his regular life, even school, more than he would ever have imagined.

  A couple of big drops of rain splashed onto David’s bare arm. He stopped and looked down through the bush at the house, considering. If it kept raining, he would get wet, but then again it wasn’t really cold. He decided to keep running.

  24

  ANDREA was looking forward to her coaching session with Moshe. He had promised to tell her some more stories from the Iliad, and she was enjoying them, as long as Moshe steered clear of the ones that made him cry, like the one about an old man pleading to get his son’s dead body back. That was just a little bit too weird.

  Moshe had started by asking her if she knew anything about the Iliad. She shook her head.

  ‘Well, have you heard of Helen of Troy?’

  ‘Um . . . Beautiful lady? Wasn’t there a movie?’

  ‘Very likely. And what about the wooden horse?’

  Light dawned. ‘Did people hide inside it so they could get into some city?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Moshe beamed. ‘To get into Troy.’

  Most of the stories were exciting and bloodthirsty, and he had promised to get her a DVD about Troy to watch in the last week of term.

  At this rate, she thought, they wouldn’t be getting back to geometry for a while, and that was fine by her.

  ‘How are you going with Seven Little Australians?’ Moshe asked as she was leaving.

  ‘Oh, I’ll be finished soon. They sent Judy to boarding school, but she ran away.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’

  ‘I can see what’s going to happen. She’ll go back and start being all good, and they’ll make her the head prefect, and she’ll be top of the school and everything.’

  ‘Keep reading,’ advised Moshe, opening the front door for her.

  A gust of wind blew in, scattering the pile of letters on the hall table.

  ‘Woops,’ said Moshe, clutching at flying papers. ‘The inevitable is upon us.’

  As Andrea helped pick up the letters she spotted something familiar at the bottom of the pile. It was David’s phone.

  No wonder he hadn’t answered any of her messages, she thought. He hadn’t received them.