The Eye of the Sheep

by Sofie Laguna

  ‘What the hell?’ I saw the words coming out of Jake’s mouth in a sonar wave. His face was red and as round as a balloon. ‘Leave each other alone and get into bed!’

  We scattered like marbles. I went back to my room with Liam. He climbed up onto his top bunk and I climbed into the bottom. I knew the photograph was there on the wall beneath Liam’s; I was linked to it by Map Two Hundred and One.

  ‘You’re going to need money,’ whispered Liam. ‘You have to catch a train or a bus or a plane.’

  ‘Where will we get the money?’ I asked.

  ‘We got to steal it from Jake. I don’t care if I get busted. I’m not staying here anyway.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Morecroft. Juvenile home. Until I’m eighteen. Then I’ll go and live with Dad. He can’t walk, so what can he do about it? He can’t get out of his chair and chase me out with a stick, can he? If he calls the cops I’ll tell them it was him who never locked the gun cupboard, not Gary. Dad said he did lock it and the jury believed him because of the wheelchair, but he never did. I know because when I went there it wasn’t locked. I just went halfway down the stairs and pulled it open. It was easy.’ His bunk creaked beneath his weight. ‘Goodnight, Jimmy.’

  ‘Goodnight, Liam. Goodnight.’

  In the photograph stuck to the wall above mine, a younger Liam stood with his arm around his dad, their heads level. It was the wall of fathers.

  Liam and me were at the back of Anne White’s yard behind the shed. Liam dragged his hand along the three big drums, clink clunk clonk up and down. He threw a handful of mud into the drum of water then he dragged over an empty wooden milk crate and turned it upside down. ‘Climb up,’ he said to me.

  I climbed up and the crate wobbled.

  ‘There was a man in the city who cut up bodies and put them in a tank like this.’ Liam knocked the side of the drum with his fist. ‘But it wasn’t water in there – it was acid and the acid fried the bodies, only leaving the bones and the teeth, and that’s what gave the man away to the cops. There were five people in one tank plus a dog. The man could fit them all in because they had no bodies. The acid melted the flesh away in sixty seconds.’ He leaned against the drum. ‘Have a look over the edge, Flick.’

  I leaned over, my hands on the rim.

  ‘See yourself?’ Liam asked. ‘That tank is taller than you.’ He threw in another handful of dirt. It disturbed the surface, leaving holes. ‘The man didn’t do it alone. He had accomplices. He was the ringleader of his family. He did the killing and his brothers and his uncle and his cousins helped him cut up the bodies. They were the ones who bought the acid, poured it into the tank, put in the pieces and stirred. Can you swim, Flick? If you got into that tank the water would go over your head, but if you could swim you’d be alright.’

  I looked into the water until it was as if I was under the surface. Everything was slow and soft, at first floating, but then falling. I was going down . . . I stepped back, the breath entering me sharply. The crate almost tipped.

  ‘Careful, Flick,’ said Liam.

  Deirdre came down from the house carrying something in her hand. ‘Map Two Hundred and One,’ she said, passing it to me. ‘I tore it out.’

  ‘Open it, Flick, let’s have a look.’

  Deirdre was on one side and Liam was on the other, the three drums behind us as we leaned towards the map. Deirdre pointed. I followed the line of her chipped yellow nail polish to the end of her finger where it joined the map. Point Paradise.

  ‘We are here,’ she said, then she drew her finger across slowly. ‘And Point Paradise is . . . here. It’s not that far, Jimmy. If you had money, you could catch a bus.’

  ‘Then that’s what he’ll do,’ said Liam.

  Deirdre dropped her hands from the map. She looked at Liam. ‘What will he do if his dad’s not there?’

  ‘He has to try,’ said Liam.

  ‘But what if . . .’

  ‘It’s his dad. He has to try.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘If he doesn’t try then he may as well be dead – like his mum.’

  ‘Liam!’

  ‘I have to try,’ I told her.

  Deirdre turned to me. ‘Are you sure, Jimmy?’

  ‘Of course he’s sure.’

  ‘I have to try,’ I repeated. ‘I have to try, Deirdre.’

  ‘You do,’ said Liam. ‘We’re going to get him some money. The bus could be more than twenty dollars.’

  ‘How are you going to do that?’

  ‘We’re going to steal it from Jake. I told you.’

  ‘Be careful,’ said Deirdre.

  ‘Be careful,’ copied Liam.

  I lay on my bunk with the lights off and looked at the inside of dust. It was as if I had lenses attached to my eyes and they could magnify the particles. I saw little bright circles joined together by glowing bars. I watched them lifting up and sinking. At first when I looked I couldn’t see any pattern, but I kept watching. I watched all night and just before the morning I saw one. The circles expanded, pulling the bars of light taut, about to burst apart, and just when I thought they would separate they began to move in towards each other again. The circles never stopped moving and the bars holding them together didn’t break, even though they were only made of light, not rope or chain or rubber.

  When I opened my eyes I saw Liam’s red face hanging over the side of his bunk, looking in at me. ‘Your eyeballs were moving so fast I was waiting for them to explode,’ he said. His head disappeared back over the top and down came the anchors.

  It was Sunday morning and we had just finished breakfast. Anne White was tidying with Deirdre.

  ‘Come with me,’ said Liam. ‘You’re the decoy.’

  ‘What’s a decoy?’ I asked him.

  ‘Something for Jake to talk to while I do the deed.’

  ‘What deed?’

  ‘Stealing the money, Flick, remember? Jake’s got plenty. The government pays him for looking after us. It’s compensation, like when you crash your car.’ He grabbed my arm. ‘Come on.’ He took me outside where we could see Jake’s truck parked at the side of the house. You had to walk up steps to get inside. ‘Jake is working under the truck. You go hang around him and act like you’re interested in what he’s doing.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Jimmy the decoy.’

  ‘That’s right, but, Jim, you can’t talk. You’re not going to talk to him, are you? He can’t know that you talk.’

  ‘Okay, Liam, okay. Jimmy the decoy who doesn’t talk.’

  Liam grinned. ‘Funnyman Flick,’ he said. Then he headed for Jake’s truck. It said Towing 24 hours. Jake hooked up broken cars to his bumper and towed them to the tip. It took all his strength to face the road at three o’clock in the morning. And all that time in the car wasn’t good for his diet. Anne White made him pack Tupperware salads but he liked pies and sauce and hamburgers from the takeaway more.

  I went to where Jake’s legs stuck out. I didn’t know what to do. Soon he came out on a tray with four wheels, as if he was the dinner. ‘Jim,’ he said, ‘I didn’t know you were there. Anne’s inside.’

  I shook my head. Then I pointed to the wheels of the truck.

  ‘Big bloody things, aren’t they?’ said Jake. He went close to the tyre and felt it with his fingers. ‘Have a look at the treads on these, Jim.’

  I came closer to Jake than I had ever been before, and bent close to his tyres.

  Jake touched the grooves in the rubber with his finger. ‘See how worn the treads are? That’s how many bloody cars I’ve towed.’ He looked at me and smiled. ‘Like trucks, do you, mate?’ He put his hand on the body.

  I heard a small bump coming from the front end.

  Jake looked up.

  I grabbed his hand and led him to the back of the truck. He let me take him, as if he was proud of the development. I pointed to the towing hook, raising my eyebrows.

  ‘Yes, Jim, that’s the most important thing on the truck. That hoo
k is what puts your dinner on the table.’ He tugged on the chain that joined the hook to the crane. ‘Unbreakable,’ he said. Could pull a bloody trailer full of elephants if I needed to.’

  I smiled up at Jake, and touched the chain. There was another bump from the front. Jake frowned.

  I ran back to the tray with wheels, beside the truck and lay down on it. I pushed myself under the way Jake did. My ceiling was dark steel, thick with the rust of towing.

  Jake grabbed my feet and pulled me back out. ‘Jim! Don’t do that. Don’t ever do that. The truck’s not a toy. Don’t even touch it unless I’m here.’

  I nodded and smiled.

  Jake sighed. ‘It’s good to see you making an effort to get involved, Jim. Just leave the truck alone when I’m not around.’ He’d forgotten about the noise in the cabin. He was used to a lot of noises from all the kids he’d looked after, some his own and some he pretended.

  I smiled, nodded some more and then I left him there. When I passed the cabin Liam was gone.

  After dinner, up in our room, Liam fanned green money out in his hand. ‘Eighty bucks, Flick. Now you need somewhere to hide it.’ He looked through his cupboard. He threw t-shirts and shorts and singlets across the floor. He pulled out a black pouch. ‘For sunglasses,’ he said. ‘I took it from the chemist. I never got the sunglasses; only the pouch.’ He pushed the money into the pouch then he gave it to me. ‘Hide it under your mattress.’

  Anne White took us to crafts. I watched the way the paper squares fell to see if the angles and colours matched. ‘Don’t you want to use the paper, Jim?’ Anne White asked. When I didn’t answer I saw her roll her eyes at another foster mother.

  Deirdre made a doll from orange pipe cleaners with a cork for a head. She drew little black crosses on the cork for eyes and wrapped a piece of material around its middle for a skirt. Deirdre called her pipe doll Silver. ‘Take me to heaven, Silver, oh, take me to heaven,’ she sang, turning Silver through the air. ‘Lift me on your back and fly me to the stars . . .’

  Liam told Anne White he was too old for crafts but she said, ‘You can be creative at any age.’

  Liam created a gun from clay. When Anne White turned her back to pour cordial he aimed his clay gun at her head and fired.

  When Anne White went to help with the sandwich plates, Liam spoke to Deirdre. ‘He’s got to go before school starts,’ he said, his face tight with a purpose. ‘Before everyone knows who he is and that he lives here.’ Liam looked as old as his father, each freckle the mark of another year, merging into each other across his cheeks.

  ‘Speak to Silver and she can tell me,’ said Deirdre, stretching out Silver’s arms.

  ‘Don’t be an idiot.’ Liam grabbed Silver and bent her, leaving clay on her pipe-cleaner arms.

  Deirdre grabbed her back. ‘Tell Silver or I won’t help.’

  ‘Alright, alright. Give her to me,’ said Liam.

  ‘Don’t hurt her.’ Deirdre passed Silver back to Liam.

  ‘Silver, tell Deirdre that Flick has to leave before school starts. Tell her she has to ring up the buses and ask when one goes through Point Paradise from here. She has to get the number. She has to do it when Anne can’t see. Tell her or I’ll use you to wipe my arse.’ Liam passed Silver back to Deirdre.

  ‘Liam!’ Deirdre patted Silver’s cork then held her to her ear to listen to Liam’s message. She listened for a while, nodding her head and saying, ‘Hmmm . . . hmmmmm.’ Then when Silver was finished she said, ‘Don’t worry, Silver – Liam is just sad because his mum has two faces and his dad likes his smokes more than him. Silver, tell him I will call the buses when Anne is doing the ironing in front of The Bold and the Beautiful because she never turns it off even for one second and sometimes she cries and even on the ads she stays and puts her iron down to sip her coffee. That’s when I’ll call. Tell him that, Silver. And tell him if he uses you to wipe his arse you’ll put a pipe cleaner through his dick and his wee will come out in his shorts. I love you, Silver, kiss kiss.’ She kissed the cork and passed Silver back to Liam.

  ‘Silver, I love you, kiss kiss.’ Liam rubbed Silver against the crotch of his trousers and threw her in the air. She landed at Deirdre’s feet.

  Anne White came back in and saw. ‘Liam, you are really pushing your luck.’

  ‘Liam, you are really pushing your fuck you,’ Liam whispered.

  In the afternoon, while Liam was at his reading lesson, Deirdre and me waited for The Bold and the Beautiful. Just before it came on, Anne White dragged out the ironing board. Deirdre took my hand and we went into the kitchen and Deirdre looked up buses in the telephone book. She called them and we waited and waited and she made me check on Anne White and Anne White was sniffing and sipping and ironing and at last Deirdre spoke to the right person who said the South Eastern Bus leaves from High Street Depot at midday on Saturday. Deirdre wrote midday down on a piece of paper, Saturday.

  She folded up the piece of paper and I followed her to my room.

  ‘Where’s the money?’ she asked me.

  I pulled the pouch out from under the mattress. Deirdre folded the piece of paper three times, kissed it then put it in the pouch with the money and the map.

  ‘You have to get a taxi to High Street,’ said Deirdre. ‘You’ll get lost. I’ve been to High Street – it’s big with tunnels and trains and there’s a place just for the buses but you have to speak to them and tell them. I’ll write down what you have to say. You have to pay for your ticket. You have to give them the money, okay? Jimmy, if your dad tells you to get fucked, you can take your suitcase and I’ll take Silver and Barbie and you can come to my nan’s B & B with me, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Deirdre, okay,’ I said.

  Anne White gave us Cokes because it was Friday afternoon and in only one more week school was starting so enjoy your freedom. We sat in a row along the fence beside the empty vegetable patch. The red can felt cold and heavy as a bomb in my hands.

  ‘How are we going to get him out of here without Anne and Jake noticing?’ Deirdre asked, sticking her finger into the hole at the top of her can.

  Liam took a long drink, then he turned to me. ‘Flick, you have to say you’re sick and you have to go to bed. Then you can sneak out to the taxi that we call for you when Anne and Jake take me to training. Taxis are used to coming for the fosters. You got to talk, Flick, you got to tell the taxi driver to take you to the bus stop. He’ll know where to drop you.’ Liam burped, sending Coke vapours over Deirdre and me. ‘When Anne sees you’re gone I’ll tell them that I made you walk to the mall by yourself to buy me cigarettes. I’ll tell them that I said to you if you didn’t do it I’d stick your head in the toilet and flush and then when they punish me I’ll put holes in Anne’s couch with a cigarette, don’t worry about that. I’ll push my cigarette into the plastic cover until it melts right through and burns the flowers. Fuck her. I’ve got cigarettes saved. I could smoke them but I don’t want to. I only will when they find out you’re gone and that’s when I’ll say it was my fault and they’ll take me in the cop car to find you because I was your last contact, and every time they see a kid that almost looks like you I’ll say, That’s him, that’s him! We’ll go and search the kid but it won’t be you because you’ll be on the bus on the way to Point Paradise.’ Liam finished his drink, threw the empty can into the air and kicked it with his foot. ‘I’ll smoke the cigarette when the cops are interviewing me too. I’ll say, “Get me a lawyer.”’ He turned to me. ‘Even if your dad says he doesn’t want to see you, don’t listen, Flick. Just sit in his house –’

  ‘Caravan,’ Deirdre interrupted.

  ‘Just sit in his caravan and say, If you send me back to the foster home, Liam David Lescock will kill me.’ Liam jumped off the fence, put his hands around my throat and squeezed. ‘And I will, you little bastard, I will.’

  I let him squeeze until I could feel the sides of my throat pipe touch.

  Deirdre kicked Liam just below the knee. ‘Leave him alone or I�
�ll get Jake.’

  Liam let go of my neck and I fell forward off the fence.

  ‘Get Jake, I don’t give a fuck,’ he said, standing on the empty can.

  I lay on my bed holding the sunglasses pouch and the photograph. The photograph was crushed; particles of my parents had entered the skin of my hands the way, if you leave it, water goes into a potato. The picture of the cliff, my mum in her dress, the grass beneath her feet, and the sea beyond the cliff were inside me, like osmosis.

  •

  For the whole of the next week Liam and Deirdre made plans around my head. It was all they talked about: the map, the taxi, the bus, the caravan park, what I would say, what my dad would say, what I would do if he wasn’t there, what I would do if he was. When they weren’t planning they were fighting.

  Deirdre wrote a list of the words I needed to use: How much? Where is it? What time? Hello, Dad. ‘After that you have to think of the words for yourself, Jimmy.’

  ‘He’ll know what to say – he just has to get there,’ said Liam.

  ‘Did you know what to say?’ asked Deirdre.

  ‘It doesn’t make any difference what I say,’ said Liam, pushing her in the chest.

  Anne White took me to Cook Road Medical to have my cast removed. ‘This shouldn’t hurt,’ said the doctor. I held out my hand. The doctor cut with the pruners, until my cast was in half. I read Deirdre your sister but the rest fell to the floor. ‘Perfect recovery,’ said the doctor, inspecting my fingers. They had changed colour, turning pale without the sun. There was dried blood around the nail. ‘Can you move your fingers for me, Jim?’

  I kept them motionless.

  ‘He’s still coming to grips with things,’ said Anne White, as if she was saying sorry.

  In Anne White’s car on the way home I wriggled my new fingers in my sleeve. They were ready.