by Sofie Laguna
It was dark. Moths beat their wings, multiplying as they flew around my face, their dust in my nose and eyes. I flapped at them with my hands, but they came in closer. The more I coughed the more they multiplied. I couldn’t see through them.
‘Jimmy! Jimmy! Are you okay, kid? Are you okay?’ Uncle Rodney shook me awake. ‘You were dreaming. Were you dreaming? Are you alright?’
I sat up and saw that Uncle Rodney had Mum’s red suitcase beside him.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked me. I nodded my head. ‘I packed some things for you, Jim. I don’t know if I got what you wear, but we can pick up anything else you need on the island.’ Uncle Rodney held up Mum’s numbers and lists book. ‘This is Paula’s diary, right? No numbers in it for your old man. You don’t know where he went, Jim? Did your Mum say anything? You’ve got no idea?’ He looked at me, waiting. ‘Jim, it would help if you could talk to me.’
I knew what he wanted but I didn’t have access; there was nothing I could do for my Uncle Rodney.
‘Oh shit.’ He went to the sink and poured himself a drink of water. Then he opened the cupboards and closed them again. ‘You want a drink, Jim?’ He brought me a glass of water.
I tipped it into my mouth and felt it drip down.
Uncle Rodney put his hand out for the empty glass. ‘We may as well get going. I got us a hotel near the airport, okay? Is there anything you want to take from the house? I don’t know when you’ll be back again.’
My manuals lay strewn across the kitchen table – oven, washing machine, vacuum cleaner. The black and white drawings blurred before me. The diagrams didn’t belong to the instructions. Letters and numbers crossed paths, on was off and off was on. They were mistaken. There was nothing I wanted to take from the house.
I looked down and saw tracks across the floor that ran deep into the tiles. I stared at them, narrowing my eyes for increased vision. The cracks led to the ground under the house and they kept going until they got to the earth’s core and then they penetrated the core and ended up in space, but lower space. The space underneath goes down and down and spreads. In it you see only the shadows of things. There wasn’t one thing existing without the under-space – it was there all the time, but nobody looked. You had to be empty to see it.
Uncle Rodney sighed and picked up Mum’s red suitcase. ‘Okay then, let’s go. We have to drop the car back on the way, then we’ll get something to eat. Come on, Jimmy.’
I followed him out of the house, my eyes on the case.
Uncle Rodney didn’t speak on the drive to the airport. He watched the road and pulled sharply at the gearstick and ran his hand through his hair and turned the radio on then off. He sighed and shook his head. He looked across at me, then out the window, then back at me, then at the road, then out the window, then at the road again. He rubbed his hand over his face, as if he was trying to clear something away.
We left the car at a parking lot, then Uncle Rodney waved at a taxi and that took us to the airport hotel. When we got to the hotel I drank chocolate milk straight from the carton in the lobby restaurant. Uncle Rodney put chips in front of me, he put steak in front of me, he put ice cream and Coke in front of me, but I only drank the chocolate milk.
‘You can’t keep this up, Jim. You have to eat,’ he said.
I sat on the chair in room seven while Uncle Rodney lay on the bed, and we watched the television. I don’t know what was on. When I next opened my eyes I heard cars racing around the room, getting louder as they came closer, then fading. Uncle Rodney was lifting me to the bed. I heard men on the television cheering for the cars. Uncle Rodney lifted me as though he didn’t want to wake me but he didn’t know – only Mum knew – that I was always awake, like a clock that doesn’t stop ticking.
The next day we went to the airport in another taxi and Uncle Rodney put the red case into the square frame, then he led me down the path that moves whether you are walking or not. Up in the sky aeroplanes cut through the air, leaving tears in the atmosphere, revealing the under-space. I couldn’t take my eyes from it. What is the past? If it happened, does it still live anywhere? Is it gone after it happens? Does anything keep it? Was memory stored in the under-space?
Our plane flew high over the land then out over the sea. I hardly looked. Uncle Rodney gave me a magazine and a man in a white suit with medals saluted me from the cover.
When we came out at the airport on Broken Island, Amanda was there to meet us.
‘Amanda!’ Uncle Rodney called.
Amanda didn’t look at Uncle Rodney; she looked at me and I saw that her eyes were full of tears that didn’t belong to her. They belonged to the Flick brothers but only she could produce them.
‘Hi, Rod,’ she said, giving him a small quick hug. She turned back to me. ‘I think you’ve grown taller by this much.’ She held up her fingers and made a pinch. I looked between the fingers, through the glass doors of the airport and saw the sea.
‘It’s a bit cold for a swim, mate, but we could take Ned down for a walk if you like,’ said Uncle Rodney. ‘We could throw the ball for him.’ He looked at me, tiny flickers of changing light in his eyes. Above his head the airport fans spun around and around. You couldn’t see the air they were moving. Some things, like air and electricity, are invisible.
We walked towards the black rubber path going around and around beneath the fans. Uncle Rodney picked up Mum’s red suitcase and the doors knew to open as we came closer; invisible sensors gave them knowledge of our approach. Their slide was smooth as they closed behind me.
We walked towards the Statesman in the car park.
‘Thanks for coming, Amanda,’ said Uncle Rodney.
‘No problem. I hope everything’s okay . . . Whatever I can do.’
‘It’ll be okay . . . one way or another.’
They looked at each other, as if I couldn’t decipher their codes.
‘I just wish I knew where Gav was. Gone bloody walkabout,’ said Uncle Rodney.
‘What about Jim’s brother?’
Uncle Rodney shook his head quickly at Amanda, as if he didn’t want her to ask about Robby. ‘Think we’ll stay in tonight. We’ll order pizza from Stella’s. You like pizza, Jim?’ He touched my head.
I pulled away; the touch didn’t belong to me. Uncle Rodney looked at Amanda and sighed.
‘Anything we can do, Rod, please, just let us know. Dave has made you a tuna casserole. If you’re anything like my Brett, Jim, you’ll hate it.’ She smiled and climbed in the front seat beside Uncle Rodney. I got in the back and it was the same row of buttons that undid the same windows, the same road, the same island, sea and sky, but the line between them was gone and I didn’t need to press the button and never would again.
When we came to Uncle Rodney’s house Ned came to the gate. He jumped up and put his paws on the front fence.
‘You can open the gate for him if you like,’ said Uncle Rodney. ‘But be ready.’
I opened the gate and Ned jumped up on me, almost knocking me over. He wasn’t careful with me, as if I was about to break, or had already broken. He was fast and wild and living.
‘Easy does it, boy,’ said Uncle Rodney.
I put my hands on Ned’s shoulders, and messages carried by his blood came to me from the animal kingdom. The animal kingdom is in our world but it’s another world too. It has no people or extinction. It only has plants with leaves that are damp with dew and if you tip the leaf it makes a spout for you to drink from. That way you never run out of water. All the secrets for survival are in the animal kingdom. Ned was from it even though he was in this world too. I looked in his eyes and I saw the light from the eye of the sheep, like lamps to show the way.
I didn’t do anything but sit in front of him and look. Ned didn’t turn from me. With my back sensors I could feel Uncle Rodney behind me, watching. I touched Ned’s head, the bone that covered his brain, the storage box of the pictures he carried inside, and he sent me messages through my fingers: light, sun, running and stillne
ss. I pressed my face to Ned and smelled him and he leaned into me and allowed me.
‘It’s good to see Ned again, hey, Jim?’ Uncle Rodney said. ‘Come on, we’ll take him out the back and you can play with him.’ Uncle Rodney’s voice was lighter.
I followed Ned, who followed Uncle Rodney, who carried the red suitcase, through the house.
Uncle Rodney stayed inside while Ned took me into the yard and showed me where he slept and his toys and his shed and his lead and his bone.
Uncle Rodney brought out a drink of water and I drank it, keeping one hand on Ned’s back.
I sat with Ned in the yard the whole day until it turned to night. Uncle Rodney spoke on the telephone, his voice travelling through the yard, the wind blowing it over the grass in small pieces.
‘Any idea? Where the hell? He was there when it happened. A bloody mess alright. No way. No, I can’t take him. There’s nothing here for him. Christ, who’d run the bloody shop?’
Uncle Rodney came out with a beer and some spray in a can. ‘For the mozzies,’ he said, spraying me, then drinking from the beer can.
He put steaks on the barbecue. They sizzled pink and Ned sniffed around the gas cylinder.
‘I wish you’d speak to me, Jim. So we can sort this out. Are you going to speak to me?’ Uncle Rodney formed words with his lips and his tongue and the words travelled along invisible waves to the trees and the grass and the clouds. I watched the world receiving them as Uncle Rodney waited. After a while he said, ‘Bloody hell.’
After looking at me not eating steak and potato and tomato Uncle Rodney said, ‘You can watch some telly if you want, Jim.’ He turned on Doctor Who then went into the kitchen to do the dishes. He left a packet of chips out for me. I put one chip at a time into my mouth. I kept my mouth on each chip long enough for the olfactory to wet it, and then I swallowed and down it went via my bowser. I sat with Ned close enough to smell his fur and we watched the doctor save the universe with electrodes and a bug.
I lay on the double bed in the guest room at Uncle Rodney’s and looked at shadows in the last of the light: windowsill, cupboard, tennis racquet, open door, photo frame, curtain; each shadow as separate as the island itself.
In the morning Uncle Rodney came into my room and said, ‘Jeez, you like a sleep-in, don’t you, kid? It’s nine o’clock.’
But I wasn’t sleeping. There were lights inside me and all night they stayed on red. Ned was across my legs, his heat and weight transmitting solar and lunar into me.
Uncle Rodney ran his hand through his hair that was sticking up all over his head. Then he rubbed his eyes. ‘Jim, come and have breakfast and we’ll have a talk about what happens next.’
All my clothes were still on – even my shoes. They had left skids of dirt across the bottom of Uncle Rodney’s sheet but he didn’t notice. I followed him to the kitchen and he poured me water and then he poured me milk. I drank the water. It cleaned out my radiator. Uncle Rodney put food in a metal bowl for Ned. Ned ate it, his jaws throwing it back. ‘You don’t see him saying no,’ said Uncle Rodney, sounding tired. ‘You need to eat, Jimmy. What’s the problem with eating? I’m going to fry you some eggs, okay?’
I watched him crack eggs into a frying pan. If you crack open an egg before it’s cooked you will find a baby bird inside. It won’t have feathers yet, only skin. Its eyes will be black seeds in its head. It will be wet and its skin as thin as tissue and it won’t know anything. No pictures or words or messages yet in its mind. The shell stopped any coming through but as soon as you crack the egg then there is no protection and everything enters the bird through the skin and the black seeds, in a rush of information. If the bird isn’t strong enough to hold the information it tips forward from the broken shell, its head hanging from its neck like a grape too heavy for the vine.
‘What have we here?’ said Uncle Rodney, pulling a small box from the cupboard. ‘Cocoa . . . I don’t know how old this is, but if we mix it with milk it will make it chocolate. How about that, Jim? Will you have chocolate milk?’ He poured some cocoa and two spoonsful of sugar into the glass of milk and he stirred it round and round, the white of the milk turning brown.
He put it down in front of me and I touched the glass and it was cold against my fingers. I lifted it with Uncle Rodney watching and I drank it and it went down my pump and charged through my pipes.
‘At least there’s something you like,’ said Uncle Rodney, smiling and turning his eggs over. He poured himself a cup of tea and buttered two pieces of toast, then he scraped the eggs onto the toast.
The telephone rang and Uncle Rodney picked up the receiver. ‘What time, mate? Now?’ He glanced at me. ‘Shit . . . Alright, I’ll be there . . . Yeah, no worries. A bit more notice wouldn’t go astray, though . . . Yeah I’ll see you in a bit.’
After Uncle Rodney got off the telephone, he passed his hand across his mouth and across his face and walked around the kitchen and washed a dish then left it in the sink then washed it again then wiped down the bench, missing the spilt milk. Steam rose from the eggs on the plate. He looked at me, then out the window, then at me. He checked his watch then he checked the clock hanging above the stove. He picked up the telephone. ‘Come on, Dave, come on . . .’ Dave wasn’t answering.
Uncle Rodney turned to me. ‘Listen, Jimmy, I’ve got to go to the shop for a while. There’s an order coming, I have to be there. You’ll be alright by yourself, won’t you? I’ll leave Ned in charge.’ He pulled a bag of chips from the cupboard and put it on the table. ‘Don’t leave the house, Jim, okay? Just stay there and eat the breakfast I made you and watch the telly. I’ll be home in forty minutes. See the clock?’ He pointed to the clock on the wall. ‘When that says ten o’clock I’ll be home again, okay? Then we can go and do something. Just stay here and watch the box with Ned. Don’t even go out the back, okay? It looks like rain.’
He took his coat and he was gone. I sat with Ned and watched the television. The superhero walked up a building with only his feet for suction, as if he could defeat gravity. But nothing can defeat gravity. Even a spaceship only defeats gravity from within the craft. Outside there is still gravity, pulling the contents of the earth towards itself. Gravity is a greater force than water and if the two are put together then that equals THE END.
I watched as the dark green superhero flashed the silver enemy with a red laser. The enemy caught fire then the flames cleared and there was only smoke left and a small hole in the ground where the enemy had once stood. The superhero said, That should stop him! A girl whose dress was pulled in so tight she had two stomachs fell against him and he put his strong arms around her. He kept his goggles over his eyes. Ads came on.
I looked out the window and saw low grey clouds in the sky. I picked up Ned’s red lead from where it hung across the back of the chair. Then I clipped Ned to the lead and opened the front door.
We walked down the road, light rain falling on our heads. Ned kept the lead pulled tight and straight. I felt his desire travelling up the fibres into my fingers.
Soon we were at the beach. A woman with grey hair stood in her garden, watering her gnomes. She waved at me when I walked past. There was nobody on the sand and nobody in the water except for two men with black skins out on surfboards. The sky was grey with the light behind it, moving down to another deeper grey that was darker and wet. The second grey belonged to the sea but these were only names and words. The clouds and the sea were the same thing with different amounts of water penetrating.
I unclipped Ned and watched as he raced down to the shore, barking at the waves. I followed him to the edge, letting the water wash over my ankles. I watched it drag at the hems of my tracksuit pants. I watched the waves pull out, leaving the sand shining and damp, reflecting light.
I looked out to the horizon. It was the last place; you couldn’t go further. It was a circle around the planet Earth that tried to keep the people in and only some went beyond it. It wasn’t advisable; beyond it there were no warranties. My
bare feet moved towards the horizon as if the horizon was calling them, calling and calling with a voice my feet had no power to refuse. The swirling water tugged at my clothes, turning them dark. The water was over my knees now as wave after wave came tumbling towards me. Out the back they rose like mountains, then as they gained speed they rolled over, crashing and breaking into white spray and froth, too fast for their own weight and the pressure and the speed behind them.
I heard howling. I turned around and saw Ned sitting on the shore, tilting back his head, jaw open as he called to me. The water was now up to my chest. The music of wind and wave and dog howl was as hollow as a tunnel. I kept going deeper, the water now up to my neck. The sea was heavy and smooth and parted as I moved my arms but there was always more behind it, rushing towards me. I couldn’t stand, and then I could, and then I couldn’t and then I could and then I couldn’t. Waves washed over the top of me. I went under where it was still and slow and muffled and then I came up again and heard my dad calling me. ‘Jim! Jim! Son! Jimmy!’ But his calling turned into the howling dog, which soon rose higher and became the howl of the wind. A wall of water too high to climb came thundering towards me. I looked up to its shining pinnacle and tried to read its message in the last seconds, but then it broke over the top of me, and it was too late. I went under, my throat on fire, water in my nose and my mouth. I was pulled in all directions and thrown sideways and back, then everything went quiet. I saw particles of dust slowly falling. I reached for a face I couldn’t see. ‘Mum?’
I lay on the sand, my throat and nose burning as Uncle Rodney kneeled beside me, the still clouds behind him, hiding the sun. I saw its bright rays around the edges.