by Murray, Lee
‘If Aroha and I can get the money together, this is the course I want to do.’ She points to the page. ‘ A Bachelor of Natural Sciences.’ She reads from the prospectus: ‘Students will have a strong foundation to conduct basic or applied multi-disciplinary research in the physical and biological sciences. Potential fields include marine science, sustainability, managing and protecting the natural environment...’ Laying the open prospectus on her knees, she says, ‘I’ve always wondered where my interest in natural sciences comes from. Aroha hates anything to do with the outdoors. The closest she wants to get to nature is the garden centre café. She acts as if every mosquito ever spawned has a personal vendetta against her. And even wearing jandals she manages to get prickles in her feet. Don’t ask me how.’
Adam shrugs. ‘Maybe you inherited your outdoor gene from your dad?’
‘Maybe,’ Skye replies. She gazes a moment out the window, then says, ‘You’ll probably think I’m stupid, but I have this fantasy of my dad as an environmentalist or an eco-warrior or something. Imagine if he were under arrest in a Japanese prison. He could’ve been hauled in during an anti-whaling march, I wouldn’t even know.’ Skye colours. ‘Silly, huh?’ Dropping the accommodation guide on the table, Adam stares hard at Skye.
‘What’s silly is that it’s just a fantasy.’
‘I know. You’re right. People always think their absent parents are amazing, don’t they? It’s like people who claim to be reincarnated. You never hear them say they used to be a Roman scullery maid or a Celtic farm labourer, do they? When they remember their former lives, it’s because they used to be a sultry Egyptian princess, or a misunderstood way-before-his time inventor. Nobody imagines Joe-ordinary.’
‘Ever google him?’
‘Who?’
‘Your dad.’
Skye looks surprised. ‘No. I never thought about it.’
‘We could do it now. My phone plan has run out, but we could go to the library. It’s only a five minute walk.’
They leave the car at the flat and walk into town to the public library. There’s a fifteen minute wait to use the internet. Adam signs the booking sheet. Afterwards, they sit on floppy oversized cushions on the floor facing each other, their backs against the stacks of books. Adam pulls his refill out of his backpack and turns to a fresh page. Then he rifles around in the bottom of his bag for a pen, which he clicks on and off a few times with an exaggerated press of his thumb. He leans forward.
‘What’s your dad’s name?’ he says, his voice low.
‘Michael Whitworth.’ Adam writes it down.
‘Middle name?’
Skye shakes her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe he hasn’t got one.’
‘There isn’t one listed on my birth certificate.’
‘What else do you know? Where was he born?’
‘In Hamilton. Aroha used to say I still had some family there on my father’s side. It peeved her off that they never bothered to find out what happened to us.’ Adam makes another note on his refill.
‘How old do you reckon he is?’
‘A bit older than Aroha. Say forty-one or two?’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. Aroha said he was smart. He went to university. I think that used to annoy her too, the fact that he’d had all those advantages. She planned to study fashion after working for a bit to get the money together, but then I came along and that was the end of that. Now, she tells people she got her education in the “University of Life”.’
‘Did she mention which university your Dad went to?’
Skye shrugs. ‘Waikato?’
‘Maybe. If he was still living in Hamilton that’d make sense.’ Adam adds Waikato to his list of clues.
‘Any idea where he is now?’
Skye runs her fingers through the ends of her pony tail.
‘Aroha says as soon as he got wind of her pregnancy, he took off to Australia. But that doesn’t mean he’s still there. It was years ago.’
Adam checks his watch.
‘Come on. It’s our slot.’ They make their way to the workstation. The boy before them, a twelve-year old with a rat’s tail, doesn’t want to get off.
‘I’ve only got one more thing to do,’ he bleats. Adam checks out the screen and sees he’s playing Club Penguin.
‘Time’s up. Get off,’ Adam says, menacingly. The boy shuts down his game and skulks away, leaving the still-warm seat for Adam. Skye hovers behind, her hands resting on the back of the chair, her fingers soft against Adam’s back. Adam pulls up Google. Types in Michael Whitworth. There are about 300 of them. Adam clicks on one at random.
‘Let’s have a look at this one. Dr. Michael H. Whitworth, an academic working in Oxford. He’s around the right age.’ Adam pulls up a photo. Dr. Michael H. Whitworth is bald. Skye giggles. Adam scans the site for a biography, clicks on the link, and skims through the text.
‘No, this isn’t our man. This one’s originally from the United Kingdom, which doesn’t fit with what we know.’
The next one, a musician from Athens, Georgia, has sexy dark curls and a fashionable five o’clock shadow. Michael Whitworth from Athens, Georgia has recently released a single entitled Just as Surprised as You. His blog states that he is equally surprised the Six Flags group picked up his tune as its signature piece.
‘He’s way too young,’ Adam says.
‘Cute, though,’ Skye says. She leans forward and her breath tickles Adam’s ear. ‘Click on the single. Let’s have a listen.’ Suddenly, Adam is itchy with irritation.
‘Skye, we’re getting side-tracked. This isn’t helping us find your dad.’
‘Okay. You’re right,’ she says, although when Adam glances up she’s still gawping at the singer, all starry-eyed.
‘Skye!’
She shakes herself out of her reverie. ‘I think we should work systematically,’ she suggests. ‘What say we start with the Michael Whitworths currently living in Australia or New Zealand? Then weed out anyone who is too young or too old and see what we’re left with.’
‘Okay. That’ll work.’
‘And Adam?’
‘Yeah?’
She giggles. ‘Leave out the bald ones, okay?’
Eventually, they whittle the number down to just two.
‘This guy’s about the right age,’ Adam announces. ‘He lives in Perth and he’s a lawyer.’ They’re close now. Adam can sense it. He clicks on the photo gallery and pulls up an image. But Michael Whitworth, the lawyer, has polished dark skin and tight black curls that whisper of his origins in the dreamtime. Adam’s shoulders slump.
‘Try the other one.’
Adam selects the last entry, expecting more disappointment.
This time it’s him. Skye’s dad. Adam sends the image to the printer. They stare at the face for a moment. Skye’s fingers tighten on Adam’s shoulders. She leans in closer to consider the photo of her father. Adam’s aware of her: her cheek resting against the nape of his neck, her breath on his skin, her small breasts pressed firm against his back. If Adam could make a wish, he’d wish for a remote control to slow time so he could revel in the sensation of Skye against him.
No such luck. The rat’s tail boy from earlier turns up. Folding his arms across his chest, the boy taps his foot in a deliberate hurry-up. Adam calls on all his powers of concentration to scribble down Whitworth’s details.
‘Your time’s up. Get off,’ Rat-boy says with satisfaction.
Skye practically skips out of the library, her face glowing with joy. They’ve found her dad. He’s alive and living just across the ditch in the Gold Coast. She’s fizzing with excitement.
Suddenly, Adam has a thought. He grabs her by the arm.
‘Hey, Skye. We should go. To Australia. We’ve got your dad’s work address and the holidays are coming up. We could hop on a plane and you could finally meet your dad. It’ll be great.’ Skye stops still. She puts her hands over her mouth, her green eyes enormous.
‘So what
do you think?’ Adam says.
‘You mean it?’ she whispers through her fingers.
‘I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t,’ Adam replies.
That’s when she walks over and kisses him. Right there in the library car park next to the late returns chute. Adam puts his arms around her and kisses her back. It’s pretty romantic, they could be the only ones there.
On the walk home from the library, Skye holds Adam’s hand and tells him all the things she plans to ask her father. Did his decision to go to Australia all those years ago have anything to do with her? Does she still have grandparents on his side of the family? Did she get her passion for the environment from him? Had he, like Skye, been a bit of a daredevil as a kid? And does he love apples, too?
Adam listens to her chatter and smiles. He’s got a girlfriend and a goal. It’s the best day ever.
I wake with a start. 3:00am again. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I conduct a quick stock-take: desk, dresser, bag, today’s dirty clothes dumped on the end of the bed. Everything looks the same. Suddenly, I realise what it was that woke me.
I haven’t thought about Mum all day.
Chapter 27
‘No, I’ve changed my mind. I can’t go.’ Skye shakes her head as she says it, the movement making silky ripples in her hair. They’re sitting in the car outside Skye’s apartment. The engine’s off, but Adam grips the steering wheel with both hands.
‘Why not? He’s your Dad, isn’t he? All you’re asking is to meet him. He owes you that much, at least.’
Somehow it’s become vital that Adam help Skye meet her father for the first time. But now, after all their planning, she’s suddenly getting cold feet. Skye runs her fingers over the air vent, rubbing out the dust there. She turns to look at Adam.
‘Over the years, my dad has made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in getting to know me. Maybe I’m just not meant to meet him.’
Adam throws his hands in the air.
‘I can’t believe you’re saying this.’
‘Look, Adam,’ Skye says earnestly, ‘your mum stuck around long enough for you to know her. Wherever she is now, she left you with good memories. What if meeting my dad isn’t that good? For all I know, he could be a real jerk. Aroha seems to think he is. After all, he took off at the first mention of me, and he weaselled his way out of paying child support. Hasn’t even bothered to send me a card for my birthdays or Christmas or anything. And it’s not like Mum and I are that hard to find. We’re in the White Pages!’
‘I don’t believe this, Skye!’ Adam says, indignant. ‘You’re giving up a chance to meet your father. Do you know how much I’d give for just one more conversation with my mum? I wouldn’t even care if all she did was nag me about my French homework. She could be gone forever. She could be dead. There are things I’ll probably never ever be able to ask her. And here you are, you’ve got an opportunity to meet your father and you’re going to walk away? Jesus!’
Livid, Adam turns the key in the ignition. Skye can get out now. After everything, all their talk, she decides to pike out now. There’s nothing more to be said. He grasps the gear stick, puts the car in drive and waits, his foot on the brake, for Skye to get the message and clear out.
‘Adam!’
‘What?’
‘Don’t be like that. Please!’ Reaching out, she places her hand over his.
‘Like what? I need to get home. I’ve got stuff to do.’ He’s lying. It’s the last day of term.
‘Adam, please listen to me.’ Skye doesn’t get out of the car, just sits there quietly waiting for Adam to listen. Eventually, he puts the car back in park and turns off the ignition.
‘Go on, then.’
Skye sighs deeply. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to meet him,’ she says. ‘I do. I’ve always wondered, you know, what he’s like. And whether I’m like him.’
‘So let’s do it!’ Adam explodes. ‘Let’s go and find out what he’s like. Come on, Skye.’
‘Aroha will kill me if she finds out. I’ve never lied to her before.’
‘She won’t find out. And even if she does find out, you’ve got a right to know who your dad is. She can’t deny that, can she?’
Skye drops her gaze to her lap, as if the answers are written on her hand.
‘S’ppose not,’ she admits.
‘So we’re going?’
Skye shakes her head again. ‘I can’t.’
Adam bangs the steering wheel in disbelief.
‘Why not?’ he shouts. ‘What’s stopping you? Even if he’s a jerk, at least you’ll know he’s a jerk.’
‘I know. It’s just… it’s just...’
‘What?’
‘I...’
‘What?’ Skye gives a little jump.
‘I haven’t got a passport.’
At home, the icon for Morterain’s Curse beckons Adam from the corner of his screen, but today he pushes away the temptation to lose himself in that labyrinth. Instead, Adam searches the government websites, downloading an application form for a new passport. Good thing Skye is over sixteen and is entitled to apply for her own, but looking through the site information, Adam realises they won’t have time to go through the standard processing procedure. If they want to see Whitworth during the school holidays, they’ll need to pay the urgent fee. It’s over three hundred dollars.
Still online, Adam checks his bank statement. He has around nine hundred saved from while he was still working at the yard last Christmas holidays. He’d earned more, but then he’d had to pay for his iPhone, a couple of must-have apps, and a totally useless séance. Not that he ever got paid much. Creighton’s pays strictly youth rates, and Dad’s always been draconian about recording Adam’s hours. He maintains that anything you have to work for is all the sweeter when you finally get it. Adam wonders if it’s the norm in couples to have one frugal and one spendy partner. In his parents’ marriage, Mum’s been the indulgent parent: handing out cash for Adam’s trips to the movies or blokarting or laser tag. She’d even signed Adam up for a debit card, so he could ‘practise being a responsible adult’ as she put it, and in case of emergencies. Adam feels a twinge of guilt. In return for Mum’s generosity, he’d give her an occasional kiss, a glib “Love you, Mum” and a promise not to tell Dad. Anyway, hopefully $900 will be enough for an in and out trip to Aussie. Adam pulls up the Air New Zealand website and looks at the price of flights to the Gold Coast.
Shit a brick!
He had no idea plane tickets were so expensive. And it seems prices have jumped to coincide with the start of school holidays. What a scam! Conning families looking to enjoy the warmer Aussie spring. Hang on. What about Grab-a-seat? Adam checks the online auction site. Yes! It’s just $129 for a one-way flight to Brizzie. Eighty-six of the cut-price seats have already sold. There’s no luggage allowance, but that won’t matter. Adam and Skye aren’t going for the theme parks—they won’t need their flippers and rash shirts. A bit more clicking and Adam discovers that the same cheap deal applies for the return flight. But what about the added cost of taking a shuttle to the Gold Coast? Adam navigates away from the page to look up the bus prices, then returns to the Grab-a-seat site.
Bummer!
In the time he’s been logged on, another five seats have sold for the outward journey. He’d better get cracking! Adam takes the debit card out of his wallet and transfers all the money in his Kiwibank account to his debit card. He books the cheap flights in and out of Brisbane for himself and Skye, realising as he does so that after he pays the fee for Skye’s passport, he’ll have cleaned out his account. Thank goodness New Zealanders don’t need a visa to travel to Australia. Presumably they have backpacker accommodation and Subway outlets in Australia? Adam hopes so, or they might have to wander in and out of hotel lobbies for a night.
The plan is simple. Project Go Walkabout is scheduled for the two days in the middle of the school holidays. Apart from studying his arse off for his Level 3 NCEA exams, Adam is supposed to be atte
nding Reece’s boot camp in the back of beyond near Whakatāne. Reece has plans for some infamous Lydiard-style training on the coastal Toi track. Lots of grunty hill work. The guys are already grumbling about it. Reece isn’t accepting any notes from people’s mummies either. He’s already warned them that any team member who doesn’t show, doesn’t get selected for the end of year regional fixture. No exceptions. End of story. Adam reckons that’s a load of crock. Recently, his times have been the best on the team. Reece is far too competitive to field a slow team. It’s not in his nature. Anyway, so what if Reece decides to make an example of him and excludes him from the fixture? Helping Skye connect with her dad is more important than some old track meet. Adam intends to send Simon down to the school to give his apologies to Reece, citing severe emotional meltdown or something. He’ll tell Simon to bring a signed permission slip too. Hopefully, Reece will take him along in Adam’s place since the food and accommodation is already paid for.
Skye’s plans are more complicated. She’s going to tell Aroha she’s spending a couple of nights at Donna’s parents’ bach, 30km along the coast at Pukehina. Adam once spent a day at Pukehina with Corey and Kieran. The tiny beachside community is a blast from the seventies: there are two dairies for milk and bread—one at either end of the esplanade—a bait shop, a concrete toilet block, surf club and nothing much else. It’s hardly a bustling holiday hotspot. Not at this time of the year. And Donna says her parents’ bach doesn’t even have a television because her family like to pretend they’re getting away from it all. Skye’s confident it’ll be a no-brainer to convince Aroha a stay at Pukehina would be beneficial to her study. The masterstroke is that Donna is actually going to be staying at the bach while the rest of her family swan around a resort in Thailand. According to Donna, her parents are thrilled that Skye is planning to keep Donna company. Although Adam’s fairly certain that in Skye’s absence it will be Donna’s boyfriend, Brandon, a bowler from the First XI, doing the honours.
But the whole plan is dependent on Skye getting her passport in time.