by Paul Collins
Zyra went straight for the safe behind the portrait of the Fat Man. She removed her gloves and put her hands on the safe; the fingers of one hand gently holding the tumbler, the fingertips of the other resting an inch above. She took a deep breath, concentrating on the feel of the safe, and oh-so-carefully turned the tumblers – left two, right five, left one, pause, left one again, right three. Click!
‘Damn, I is good.’ Zyra smiled as she swung the safe door open. She reached in and grabbed the key …
A heavy hand came down onto her shoulder and spun her around.
She was face-to-face with a large, extraordinarily fat man in a business suit – the Fat Man from the portrait.
‘Well, well, well …’ breathed the man with difficulty, sounding decidedly unhealthy. ‘Lucky me for listening to a snitch's tip-off.’
Zyra winced at the garlic breath, and went for her knife.
Despite his bulk, this guy was lightning quick. One doughy hand suddenly had her knife arm pinned to the wall and another tightly clasped around her throat. Zyra's free hand desperately clung to the card-like key.
‘You're so fragile,’ wheezed the Fat Man. ‘It would take so little effort to clench my hand into a fist and crush your pretty little throat.’ He tightened his grip, making Zyra gasp for air.
In desperation Zyra flailed out with her legs, kicking the Fat Man in the groin. He immediately let go and doubled over in pain. Zyra gave him another kick for good measure and then, with the key in hand, she ran down the stairs and out of the house. As she skipped over the trip-lasers in the grounds, the Fat Man stuck his head out of the top-storey window. He yelled some unintelligible words and the topiary gargoyles sprang to life.
‘Magik!’ gasped Zyra. ‘I didn't know this fat guy hads magik.’
She increased her pace, dodging around the shrubbery. After a few moments of confusion, the gargoyles gave chase. Four of them came afoul of the trip-lasers, reduced to mulch in seconds flat. But the remaining two continued the pursuit.
Zyra reached the wall and was over it in seconds, leaving the gargoyles to get tangled in the razor wire. She immediately went to retrieve her jacket, only to discover that it was not there.
‘This what you looking for my pretty, pretty thieving wench?’ said a familiar voice.
Zyra looked up into the beady, bloodshot eyes of The Cracker and the point of a loaded crossbow. Her precious jacket was casually draped over the thief's shoulder.
‘You take from me after I've fairly and squarely appropriated … and now I take from you after you've appropriated.’ The Cracker chuckled. ‘And I gain the trust of the Fat Man for ratting on a fellow thiever.’ He took a menacing step towards her. ‘Almost even! Just need to break a few fingers first.’
Thunk!
Tark hit The Cracker over the head with the dragon's hefty sack of gold.
‘Told ya ’e was dangerous,’ declared Tark. ‘Lucky I polished off me dragon nice an’ quick.’
Tark and Zyra made their way from The Hill at the centre of the city to Designers’ Paradise with little difficulty.
‘’Ere we go then,’ said Tark, as they approached the entry portal.
They each held up their key to the scanner on the shimmering wall. The electrostatic shield parted, revealing a squat robot attendant. Tark placed their acquired wealth onto the robot's calculation tray.
‘Three hours, seventeen minutes, three seconds,’ the monotone voice announced, as the robot disappeared into the dome.
Zyra pushed Tark in ahead of her.
It was like walking into static interference made tangible. They were surrounded, encased, in grey, sizzling nothing – suspended in the anticipation of things to come. They could feel themselves disappearing.
‘Avatars?’ asked a voice inside their heads.
‘Tina Burrows.’
‘And John Hayes.’
‘Game environment?’
‘Suburbia.’
The static dissipated – as did all that made them who they were.
John Hayes and Tina Burrows were standing side by side in the most mundane of suburban surroundings – uniform, weatherboard houses with neat front yards and white picket fences; clear blue sky; the scent of spring flowers on the gentle breeze and birdsong in the distance. Perfection!
‘What shall we do first?’ asked Tina.
‘Um …’ thought John. ‘How about homework?’
Tina nodded enthusiastically. ‘I'd love to. Then maybe hang out at the mall until our time is up?’
Tentatively, John smiled and then took hold of Tina's hand and led her up the front path of his parents’ house.
Kelly was stuffing her bikini into her sunglasses case, trying bravely not to cry. ‘But I don't think I'm ready for a new boyfriend, Mish.’
‘You know what they say about falling off a horse, Kel?’
‘What?’
‘You have to get straight back on.’
‘Will isn't a horse.’
‘He dumped you, didn't he?’
‘Yes.’
‘It hurt, didn't it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then it was exactly like falling off a horse.’
Kelly squeezed a tear into her sunglasses case with the bikini and snapped it shut. Then she poked the case down a narrow crevice in her bag and stood contemplating her toenails (which I must say were painted a rather tacky shade of orange).
‘Are you sure you can't fit any more in that bag?’ I asked.
‘Only the sad, lonely pieces of my broken heart,’ she sniffed.
Kelly is my best friend and I love her dearly but she is a total drama queen. Kel will turn a molehill into the entire Himalayan range if you let her. And I wasn't about to let her. ‘You need to get on with your life, not sit moping over some boy.’
‘Will isn't some boy. He's the boy. It's only been a week. I think I'm entitled to wallow a little longer.’
‘A week is a long time in the almanac of love, Kel. For love of Romeo, Juliet met, married and killed herself, all in five days. Britney was married and divorced in fifty-five hours. Besides, I know you'll like AJ.’
‘Everyone likes AJ.’ My ten-year-old brother Toby popped up from behind the couch to butt into the conversation. His eyes were hidden behind Mum's sunglasses and a pair of binoculars dangled from his neck. Toby has recently decided upon a career with the paparazzi. He says the paparazzi are the big game hunters of the twenty-first century except that stalking celebrities is a lot less cruel than killing tigers. Plus, the paparazzi earn a lot of money for doing very little. The only problem is – there being very few celebrities in our neighbourhood – he spends all his spare time stalking me.
‘I told you I'd kill you if you eavesdropped again!’ I screamed, but Toby just shrugged and ducked behind the couch before I could grab him by the binocular strap and strangle him. ‘And what do you mean “everyone likes AJ”?’
‘What's not to like?’ came his muffled voice from under the couch. ‘He'll lend you his surfboard, share his last five bucks and doesn't mind playing with kid brothers. Unlike some people I know.’ With that, Toby popped up again, digital camera in hand, and snapped me in the act of maiming him for life with a flying bottle of shampoo.
‘Kids!’ shouted my father from the car. ‘Is that the last of the luggage? Because I think the Toyota is about to sink into the concrete.’
We didn't talk much during the last minutes of our winding journey to the beach house. Me, because I was concentrating on not throwing up the souvlaki I ate for lunch; Mum and Dad because they had just had their twentieth argument about which route was shortest; Toby because he was spying on every parked car we passed and Kel because she was … well, Kel. Kel didn't say a lot, which was one reason why she and AJ would be perfect for each other. I had spent four weeks of every summer with AJ for the last fifteen years and I doubt he ever said more than ten words in one utterance. AJ mostly kept his thoughts to himself. Not like me. My philosophy is, why waste a good th
ought when you can share it with somebody who might find it useful. Yes, Kel and AJ would be perfect for each other. She certainly needed someone to lift the cloud which had been shadowing her since Will dumped her for a girl with big hair and too much fake tan. Even shopping hadn't done the trick.
AJ's mum and mine had been coming to Kent River since they were kids; hanging out at the general store in their Harry high pants and platform shoes and baking themselves to a crisp on the wide stretch of sand between the river mouth and the point. When they had kids, they continued the tradition. AJ was like my boy next door, only in little video clips of four weeks every summer. He was fun, loyal and cute – in a Jack Russell kind of way.
‘Mum, I think the people in that car are having sex,’ Toby said as we cruised past a station wagon parked at a scenic viewing spot high above the ocean.
‘How would you know?’ I said.
‘The car's bouncing up and down.’
‘Put the binoculars away, Toby, before you get me arrested!’ Dad shouted from the driver's seat.
I was pondering the physics of generating enough force to rock a car simply by having sex when the Toyota slowed to a crawl as Dad turned off the coast road. We climbed the last hundred metres to the beach house and Kel finally looked up from her iPod. She smiled as we pulled up outside the creaking weatherboard house tottering on its wooden stilts.
‘It looks really cosy.’
‘You could call it that,’ I said. ‘Or you could call it small, run-down, and lacking in the most basic necessities, such as cable TV and broadband.’
‘I like it.’
‘You liked Will.’
‘Look! There's AJ!’ Toby said, focusing his binoculars on the beach below. I snatched the binoculars from him in a manoeuvre I had learned in basketball which involved hooking one arm through your opponent's then snatching the ball with the other and hoping the ref didn't notice.
‘I can't see him,’ I said, scanning the beach.
‘The red floral boardies, carrying the kayak.’
‘That's not AJ. That guy's too tall and buff.’
‘I thought you said AJ was hot,’ Kel muttered.
‘He is, but in a small neat package like Tobey Maguire.’
‘If he's so hot, why haven't you grabbed him yourself?’
‘He's the boy next door, Kel! Besides, I don't have enough time for boys,’ I added. ‘Between homework, sport and music I barely have time to squeeze my pimples.’
‘It's AJ all right,’ said Toby, snatching back the binoculars. ‘I can tell by the scar on his knee where you dared him to climb the waterfall last summer.’
AJ and I had an arrangement. As soon as I arrived I would hang the skull and crossbones from the veranda railing to let him know I was there. I could have sent him a text message but it wouldn't be the same as a pirate flag flapping jauntily in the breeze. The flag was faded now and the eyes gaped where moths had snacked on them but I still unfolded it from my suitcase and set it to fluttering. You could see our veranda all the way to the point and AJ usually turned up within the hour.
‘Where does AJ hang his flag?’ asked Kel.
‘What do you mean?’
‘To let you know he's here.’
‘What would be the point in that? I already know he's here because he comes when he sees my flag.’ Kelly could be remarkably dense sometimes.
But AJ didn't come and the long cool lines of surf beckoned.
The beach smelled of seaweed and summer as Kel and I waded through the shallows a short time later with obligatory yelps at the chill water and a brief stop to adjust the alignment of our bikinis. A kayak came shooting past us and one of the paddlers waved as it scooted over the fading ripples to the sand.
‘It's AJ!’ I shouted, surprised at the leap in my chest. I guess I was anticipating Kel and AJ's meeting, hoping they would like each other and confirming my good judgement. I have a flair for affairs of the heart. Apparently, my emotional IQ is very high, at least according to a magazine quiz I once took.
AJ and his friend leapt from the kayak and heaved it further up the sand. Then he turned and lifted an arm in salute. ‘Hey, Mish, long time no see!’ he called.
This couldn't be AJ. My AJ was kind of compact with short brown hair and a tentative grin. This boy looked like AJ's older, hotter brother with long, sunny brown hair brushing broad shoulders, at least six inches extra height and an easy smile.
Except AJ didn't have an older brother.
‘Hey, AJ!’ I croaked, blinking salt water from my eyes in case they were deceiving me. When I opened them again, AJ and his friend were just a few metres away. Last year, AJ would have dived through my legs or circled me like a shark before zeroing in on the ticklish spot behind my knees. This year, he just stood there – an ocean of water and a bucket-load of living between us. I suppose I must have been just standing there too because Kel elbowed me pointedly. ‘Oh, yeah, this is my friend Kelly.’
‘Hi Kelly, this is Macka. Macka, this is Mish.’
‘That's short for MacKenzie.’ Macka grinned. He had one of those big grins that showed all his teeth and you could play join-the-dots with his freckles. Macka stood almost six feet tall – just a fingernail shorter than the new AJ – and his curly blond hair was styled with salt.
Kelly smiled vaguely at both guys. ‘I've never kayaked in the surf before.’
‘You want to try it? I can take you out,’ said AJ.
‘I'll take you. He'll get you drowned,’ said Macka.
‘Thanks, mate.’
‘Maybe I could go out with both of you. But I'll probably be useless,’ said Kelly. ‘The last thing I paddled was a big rubber ring at a water park and that capsized.’
‘I can kayak,’ I said but nobody heard me. The guys were too busy arguing about who should take Kel out first and Kel was too busy watching them.
‘I thought you were still wallowing,’ I hissed in Kelly's ear a few minutes later as AJ helped her clamber into the kayak and Macka leapt in after her.
‘I'm learning to kayak, Mish,’ Kel huffed, ‘not tattooing their names on my buttocks.’
AJ pushed the kayak over the first breaker then stood shaking his head in disbelief as he watched Macka battle Kel's atrocious paddling technique all the way out beyond the breakers. ‘This could take all summer,’ he said.
‘You look different,’ I said, considering him through narrowed eyes.
‘Yeah, well, I've been eating my Weeties. You look the same.’
What did that mean? Instead of asking I gave him a shove hard enough to knock him backwards into a breaking wave. When he surfaced twenty metres in to shore, blowing water from his nose and extricating sand from his boardies he yelled, ‘You're going to pay for that!’
Our days fell into a pattern. Sleep in until Mum threatened to throw us into the street in our PJs. Hit the beach after breakfast to surf, swim or kayak with AJ, Macka (and Toby if it couldn't be avoided). Play beach cricket or walk to the point when the day grew cooler. In the fading light we'd hang out by the store with other friends or there'd be a movie or a barbecue at the surf club. AJ certainly seemed to like Kelly. His face opened in a smile as soon as we appeared each morning and he had more to say to her than he'd ever said to me.
It was pretty much like every other summer, except this time there was something not quite right. Instead of slipping into each day like wading into the surf, I woke up agitated and breathless, wondering what would happen next. Would AJ make a move on Kel? Would he slip that smooth bronzed arm around her shoulders? Would he finally zoom in for the big pash? Or had they been making out behind my back already, all tongues and teeth and writhing torsos?
‘Kel?’ I asked as we spread our towels on the sand one morning.
‘Hmm?’
‘Has he kissed you yet?’
‘Why?’
‘Well, you don't want to let things go too far too quickly. You know what happened with Will.’
‘You're the one who wanted to
set me up with a new boyfriend!’
‘I know. And I do. It's just that … well, has he?’
‘If I told you, you'd have an opinion.’
‘No I wouldn't!’
‘Yes you would!’
AJ rolled up at that moment, his eyes straying accidentally to my breasts before quickly flicking away to smile at Kelly. ‘Don't believe her. She has an opinion on everything.’
‘I do not. I don't have an opinion on cricket. It's too boring.’
‘See what I mean? Even when she's not having an opinion, she has an opinion.’ He and Kelly shared a glance and a laugh like co-conspirators. Last summer I would have laughed with them but this year my laugh turned into a hiccup which threatened to become a sob.
‘I'm going in,’ I said. ‘I'll leave you two to it.’
‘What did that mean?’ AJ caught up with me as I dived beneath a wave cresting into a tumble of white water.
I came up repeating the mantra my father had taught me all those years ago. ‘Under, over, under, over …’ Jump over the smooth swells, dive under the breakers. That way you won't get hurt. All I had to do here was dive under until the breaker had passed. All I had to do was let it wash over me.
‘What's wrong with you, Mish? You're pricklier than a sea urchin,’ AJ said, surfacing beside me. He knew the under/over rule as well as I did.
‘Nothing. You two seem to be getting on so well, I didn't want to cramp your style. You know … the part where you reach over for the sunscreen and accidentally lean so close that you can't help swooping in for the pash?’
AJ watched my face for a moment as if he was looking for something, then he shook his head slightly so that little beads of water flew from his hair, catching the light. ‘You were the one who pushed me away last summer, said it was better if we stayed friends.’