White Ute Dreaming

by Scot Gardner

  I opened my mouth to tell her I’d seen Angie pee but it didn’t come out. That wasn’t important. I shook my head. ‘Den freaked me out when we camped.’

  I told her about Chris smashing up the car and she held her hand over her mouth.

  ‘Den’s gay,’ I whispered.

  Her head snapped around. It wasn’t disbelief in her eyes; it was like I’d been let in on a secret of hers.

  ‘He told you that?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah. Chris brought some grog. We got pretty hammered and Den told me.’

  ‘Thank God,’ she said. ‘It has messed him around so bad. He can’t talk about it, to me or Mum or anybody.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I live with him, Wayne. I notice these things.’

  I looked at her puzzled.

  ‘The way he talks, the things he says. He is not interested in girls, never has been, you know. I mean he has friends that are girls and that but they are never girlfriends. I thought he was going to kill himself just after we shifted. He was so sad and angry. Mum was going crazy. What did you say?’

  I shifted my feet. My leg was getting numb. I stood up and massaged my thigh. ‘Nothing much.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I thought he wanted to root me or something.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Well, I called him a fucking poofter. I remember that much.’

  ‘Wayne. You didn’t . . .’

  ‘Yeah. I did. I felt like smashing the shit out of him.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I dunno. I thought he wanted to root me. He told me that he loved me then told me he was a poofter. What was I supposed to think?’

  She was quiet for a long time and when she spoke her voice had lost all expression. ‘Do you think he chose to feel attracted to men? Could you imagine the risk he was taking, telling you?’

  I hung my head. Yes Mum, I’m a bastard, Mum. ‘We got over it,’ I said. ‘We’re still mates. He can root chickens for all I care. His life. Yesterday, he was just my mate. He didn’t want to root me. He hung on to me while I bawled my eyes out.’

  Kez nodded.

  We walked back to the house in silence and hand in hand. There was a strange grey BMW in the driveway. Kerry grabbed my chin as I looked at the car, and kissed me. It started off as a little kiss but I had to flick at the temperature gauge when we parted. Hot, hot, hot.

  ‘God, you’re gorgeous,’ she said, and led me inside. ‘Uncle Al, this is my boyfriend, Wayne. Wayne, this is my Uncle Al.’

  He didn’t look like a sex maniac. To be honest, he sort of looked normal—neat black beard, neat black hair. He shook my hand like he hadn’t seen me for years. I kept expecting him to wiggle his finger in my palm like a secret handshake or wink or something. He just held my stare with his warm eyes. He and Baz and Gracie started talking business so Kez and I poured ourselves into her room and closed the door. She kissed me and pushed me onto the bed. I certainly didn’t fight but I did feel a bit queasy. Did Uncle Alan really root his sister when they were younger?

  ‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Kez asked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  She frowned. I gave her my coolest smile and rolled her onto her back. She went stiff like an ironing board.

  ‘What?’ she asked again.

  My shoulders dropped. ‘Well, a long time ago . . . like last Christmas holidays when we were at the beach . . .’

  ‘Yeah . . .’

  ‘You told me a story about one of your uncles . . . like, you know, having a bit of a go at your mum.’

  She looked vacantly over my right shoulder and in time slapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head and her body started shaking nicely underneath me.

  ‘Well? Was it Uncle Al?’

  She was shaking her head and little gasps of laughter were leaking from her hand.

  ‘Not my uncle, her uncle. Neville, her mum’s brother. He died before I was born.’

  ‘Phew. Thank Christ. I kept expecting Alan to feel me up or something.’

  She laughed again. ‘Not Uncle Al. He’s a real sweetie.’

  ‘I dunno about that but he seems like a nice enough bloke. Wouldn’t make much of a child molester.’

  Kerry’s so soft, you know. And hard. Soft and hard in all the right places. All the right ways. With her smiles and touches as her needle and thread, she helped sew up the hole in me. It would hurt in there for a long time yet—maybe it would never completely heal—but she whispered in my ear and squeezed my hand. Told me everything would be okay.

  Later, we walked around Uncle Al’s fish farm. ‘Fishwood Fish’, it was called. Just dam after dam after dam. Completely covered the side of a hill. In the office, he had the biggest fish tank I’d ever seen. Longer than Dad’s ute and from the floor to the ceiling. It had a school of goldfish in it that blew my mind. The smallest one was a foot long. They cruised around the tank and they looked so cool. Mate, I could have watched them for hours. Gracie had to do some shopping so we didn’t stay long.

  Baz drove right through Fishwood and on to the next town, Berrigo. It was modern and had a plaza where Kez and Den and I could sit and have a drink while their mum and dad shopped. I had a hot chocolate. Three doughnuts.

  Kez looked at me and nodded to Den. He was staring in his coffee and stirring it lazily with a plastic spoon.

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ I said, and he looked up startled.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘You know, for calling you . . .’

  ‘That’s okay, don’t worry about it,’ he snapped. Kez looked at a mum consoling a screaming kid. She had the faintest smile hanging on the edge of her lips.

  ‘You told her,’ Den whispered through his teeth.

  I shrugged and nodded. ‘She already knew.’

  ‘Bitch,’ he said to me, and frowned. ‘Bitch,’ he spat at Kerry, and crossed his arms. ‘You’re all bitches.’

  ‘I am sorry, mate,’ I said again. ‘I should have been, you know, a bit nicer or something.’

  Den shrugged.

  ‘It was a bit of a shock and that.’

  He grunted.

  ‘To be honest, I don’t care if you root rabbits,’ I said.

  He squealed a laugh.

  ‘You’re still my best mate,’ I said.

  He looked at me and smiled then looked at the potted palms in front of the coffee shop.

  ‘You guys saved my life, I reckon,’ I said.

  They both looked at me.

  I nodded. ‘You,’ I said to Den. ‘Last year, you called me a couch potato two minutes before I would have disappeared up my own arse.’ I waved my stump at his face.

  He rocked back on his chair and smiled.

  ‘When Ernie died . . .’ I said. ‘You were . . . there. Right there. I dunno how I would have gone if I’d had to do all that by myself. Thanks.’

  He shrugged.

  Kez picked up her cup and hugged it with her other hand.

  ‘You phoned,’ I said to Kez. ‘Five minutes later and I wouldn’t have been here.’

  I ran my finger across my neck and cleared my throat.

  She put her cup down. ‘Bullshit. When?’

  I shook my head. ‘I felt like shit after you guys moved. Real shit. Missed you heaps. Felt like wasting myself. Then Dad told me he was shifting up here as well and I worked out how to hang myself in the cupboard. I had the bloody cord in my hand. Couldn’t tie the friggin’ knot quick enough.’

  ‘God, Wayne, why didn’t you call?’

  I shrugged. ‘Dunno. Should have. Wasn’t thinking straight. Anyway, you phoned. Saved my life.’

  ‘Why don’t you come up here to live?’ Den asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kez said. ‘Plenty of room at our place.’

  ‘Or you could live with your old man,’ Den added.

  ‘Believe me, that sounds like heaven but my home is with my mum at the moment. I couldn’t just lob at your place and I don’t want to live with
my dad.’

  ‘Yeah, you could stay at our joint,’ Kez shouted. ‘Mum and Dad will be fine with that . . .’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m not ready to leave home. Yet.’

  My leg banged a beat on the table. Kez nodded and held my stump. She is the only person in the world who can do that.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  DAD LEFT A MESSAGE ON THE HUMES’ ANSWERING MACHINE with a mobile number. I phoned and some bloke named Dave answered. I asked for Dad.

  ‘G’day, Wayne. How you going, mate?’ he sang. He sounded drunk.

  ‘Pretty shithouse.’

  ‘Oh. What’s happened? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m all right. The farmer next door shot Ernie. Killed him.’

  ‘He what?’ I could hear him take a drag on a cigarette.

  ‘Thought Ernie was going at his sheep.’

  ‘Oh shit, that’s a bit rough,’ he said, and I nearly cracked. I could imagine his leg jiggling. ‘Listen mate, I’ve had a word to your mum and she said if you wanted to you could, you know, come and stay with me and that. For a while. See whether you like it or not. Maybe go to school with the Humes.’

  The door was open. I could see that he really did want me to be around and instead of pissing my pants with joy, I nearly cried.

  ‘Nah, Dad,’ I said. ‘I’m going home.’

  He coughed. ‘But I thought you wanted to . . .’

  I could hear pool balls cracking behind Dad’s breathing.

  ‘Yeah. I did. I wanted to live with you. I think I’d be better off with Mum. Just for now.’

  The silence rolled on. He had another drag on his smoke.

  ‘Right,’ he mumbled. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘No. Not yet. I haven’t . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I didn’t want you to feel like shit. I . . . I . . .’

  ‘Yeah, I understand, mate,’ he said flatly.

  ‘Sorry, Dad.’

  ‘Nah, shit mate, don’t be sorry. You’re still me son. I still love you and all that.’

  I swallowed and my throat squelched. ‘I love you, too.’

  ‘Yeah?’ he said, and started coughing. He coughed hard and took the phone from his mouth.

  I waited until he’d stopped hacking. ‘Yeah,’ I said.

  ‘Good. Come and visit me.’

  I smiled. ‘Yeah. Of course. Next holidays. Mum reckons she’s organised me a car.’

  ‘Yeeeah? What, a new BMW?’

  ‘Nah, Uncle Don’s old Lancer. She reckons he doesn’t need it anymore.’

  ‘Ha! There, see, won’t be long and I’ll be botting a lift from you!’

  ‘Yeah, I reckon I owe you a few,’ I said, and he chuckled.

  I hung up the phone and stood there with my hand and stump resting on the bench. I breathed hard and deep. Next to burying my dog, that was the hardest thing I’d done in my life. And just like burying my dog, it felt like the right thing to do. I felt closer to my mum. I felt closer to my dad than I ever had and he was going to be living six hundred ks away.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  KERRY AND I SPENT TWO DAYS TALKING AND HOLDING EACH other. We made a pact that when I went home we’d ring once a week and send each other a letter a month. Kez wanted to do a letter a week, but I have never been that keen on letter writing. Kez said she’d come to Chisholm if I didn’t come up over the Christmas holidays. We dug deep and we were so honest that if I had died then, I would have left my ripped-up body feeling like my life was complete. It had nothing to do with boobs and bottoms. Well, not much, anyway. All right—they were in there but they were more like the icing than the whole cake.

  Den told his mum and dad that he was gay. That was huge. Kez and I left when Baz started crying. They talked and hugged and the worst of the storm rolled past. It’ll be hard to get used to. It hits so many things. Language, for example.

  We were playing Monopoly in front of the fire. Jesus the cat had already walked across the board and knocked everything to the shithouse. Den had a hotel on Park Lane and when I landed there he asked for fifteen hundred dollars rental.

  ‘Get stuffed, you poofter.’

  The whole room froze and looked at Dennis. I apologised and he pissed himself laughing.

  ‘You’ve called me that since we were in primary school. Why would it be any different now?’

  ‘Because you are one?’ I suggested.

  He laughed hard. ‘I was then but you just didn’t know it. Ha ha.’

  He was the only one laughing.

  ‘Neither did you,’ Kerry said.

  He frowned at her. ‘So?’

  They laughed and I felt completely at home. Gracie rubbed her eyes.

  Kez and I made a pact to sleep in her room that night. No matter what. I’d stuffed my sleeping bag with clothes like I was asleep in my room. When Baz knocked on her door at about eleven we both sat up. I mean, we still had our clothes mostly on and that but Kez’s face was as red as her doona cover.

  ‘Goodnight, you two. Please try and get some sleep, you have to be up early in the morning.’

  ‘Yep. No worries. Goodnight Dad,’ Kez said, as straight as you like.

  ‘Yeah. Goodnight, Dad,’ I said.

  He chuckled. ‘Goodnight.’

  Everything was perfect. How it was supposed to be. Even the moon was nearly full and it lit up her silken skin and made her eyes sparkle as it poured in the window. It seemed to race across the sky as we found the right spot again and again. We tried everything we could think of. Everything.

  Kerry was breathing rhythmically on my chest as the next day began. The room was a mess, covered in clothes, condoms and wrappers. There’s not much room for two in a single bed but I couldn’t get close enough. So perfect. It had been worth the wait.

  ‘Come and live with me,’ she croaked.

  I looked at her face.

  ‘We’ll get a kombi or an old bus. I don’t care . . . a ute. We’ll go see Australia.’

  I chuckled to myself. ‘What about a shower?’ I asked.

  ‘Since when do you need a shower? We’ll buy one of those black camping showers.’ She stuck her face in my armpit. ‘Nah. Just won’t shower.’

  She pulled the doona over her head and I tickled her until she squealed into her pillow.

  We showered and dressed. It took me six minutes to tie my shoelaces. Baz had a glass of juice for breakfast and Gracie hollered goodbye from the bedroom. I waltzed straight in and kissed her. She hugged me and I thanked her.

  ‘See you again soon. Okay?’ she said.

  ‘Yup. Real soon.’

  Den hugged me, his breath making clouds as the bus idled. I told him he was still my best mate and he drew away and thumped his forehead on my chest. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said.

  Barry almost lifted me off the ground as he hugged me and slapped my back. ‘Take care, you hear?’

  ‘Me? I’m going home for a rest.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he chuckled. ‘Come soon for a proper holiday.’

  Kerry wrapped herself around me and buried her face in my neck. We rocked from side to side.

  ‘Keep phoning and that, okay? I want you,’ I said.

  Her body shook and she squeezed me.

  ‘I love you. It’s so big I can get lost in it. Hear me? I—love—you, Kerry. One day soon I’ll rock up on your doorstep in my white ute and we’ll go off together. Go see the country. You and me. All right?’

  She sniffed and nodded. She let me go and I dragged myself onto the bus. I saw Den wipe his face on his sleeve. Kez stood and waved until I couldn’t see her.

  The bus trip was going along fine until we stopped in Lakes Entrance. I’d been ute-spotting the whole way, thinking, ‘Whoah that one’s cool’ and ‘Dual cab? Maybe’ and there was a white one parked next to the bus stop. It had a black dog chained on the back and my guts got tight. I walked up to the ute thinking, ‘Is this mutt going to bite my other hand off or what?’ When the dog saw me getting closer its whole body
started wagging. It pulled against its chain and licked at my hand and my face. It tried to jump up on me. I scruffed its ears. I wondered if I’d ever own another dog. That was a hard one. You fall in love with them and the bastards die. Still, if you didn’t fall in love you’d have a bloody lonely life. That was a hard one all right. A hard one but not a killer. The killer came when I went over to the fish-and-chip shop.

  The joint smelt like stale armpits. I grabbed a Coke from the fridge. I ripped open my wallet to pay for it and a square of folded paper fell onto the worn lino. A note from Kez. I paid for the Coke and ran to the bus. I hunched in my seat.

  Wayne,

  I love you, too. If I wrote down all the things I love about you, this note would be thicker than a phone book. I love your smile and your hair and your courage. I love how honest you are. I love your hard body. I really love your hard body. I love it when you’re gentle and I love it when you’re not.

  I believe in you. I know you’ll be back. I’ll be waiting.

  Love Kerry

  PS–I really love your hard man’s body. Did I mention that already?

  PPS–If this letter makes you cry then we’re even.

  I read the note again and again. We were even. I had a smile on my face but we were even.

  MORE BESTSELLING FICTION AVAILABLE FROM PAN MACMILLAN

  Scot Gardner

  One Dead Seagull

  I got a flash of Dad running at me screaming. The brick grabbed and dragged me into the blade. My head smacked into the cover. My arm got stuck at the back of the blade and I could feel it cutting me. Rasping the bone. Red dust. Red blood. Black.

  At times life seems brutal to Wayne. His mum and dad have been best enemies since they broke up, he thinks he loves Mandy but she loves Phillip, and his best mate Den is a serious health hazard. Even if Wayne survives the booby-traps and accidents that face him, Den could still get them both killed!

  But no matter what the odds, Wayne has a lot of living to do. He’s determined not to rot in the hot sand like a lone dead seagull.

  From a fresh new voice comes a serious comedy about what happens when you make a truck-load of mistakes and a handful of gutsy decisions.