by Peter Rix
I’m a warrior person like you, he told the football man. And a skateboarder.
Then Tom looked at Amit and knew that the good adventure thing was going very, very wrong. And he remembered what his mum said to James after the fight at the bus stop: It’s stupid to fight. There is always another way. And Tom had said, Anyway, James, I’m Down Syndrome not spastic like those boys said, so you didn’t have to punch them. And James said, They’re lucky I didn’t kick the shit out of them. It would be good if James was in Wassford right now to help with the trouble. But James wasn’t in Wassford, he was in Bali surfing, and, anyway, the football man was the same as Tom’s mum about other ways because he didn’t do fighting, he just stood and looked at Tom and Amit like they were doing tricks or teasing.
Then Amit screamed.
It was definitely his best scream ever. Amit’s scream was so loud that Kaylee dropped a jar of pickled onions, her favourites, and ran out of the general store. Amit screamed and screamed. The football man didn’t know about Amit’s screams. He stared at Amit. Tom got scared then. He held his hands to his ears and curled up on the ground so he could forget about trouble and go to sleep like the people under the tree. But you could not go to sleep with Amit’s scream. You couldn’t think about anything when Amit screamed, not even about kicking the shit out of people. This scream would go on for a long time until it was not just a scream in the air but a scream inside your head as well. There was nothing you could do when Amit’s scream went inside your head. Some of the sleeping people sat up. The old lady was standing up now and she pulled at her dress to make it neat and tidy. Kaylee came running up to them like she had been in a race. Russell was coming second so Kaylee must be a very fast runner. Kaylee asked Tom, curled up on the ground, if he was all right. No words wanted to come out of Tom’s brain into his mouth so he pointed at Amit.
Kaylee said, It’s all right, Amit. Everything’s all right now.
Kaylee stepped up close to Amit and spoke to him in the gentle voice she used when Amit went crazy. Amit’s scream couldn’t listen even to Kaylee’s gentle voice. Then what happened was amazing like you wouldn’t read about it in a book. The old woman put her hand on Kaylee’s shoulder and pushed right past her, except it didn’t seem rude. She was like the teacher who had to push past to help someone who was being bullied by the big boys who were not really mean, they were just ignorant about disabilities people. She stood in front of screaming Amit and opened her arms out so her dress hung down like the pictures of Jesus when he was doing miracles and telling the people to get up and walk, except he never told Karen to get up and walk because miracles are very hard, his mum said, even for Jesus.
No, don’t do that. He doesn’t like being touched, Kaylee warned the old woman, but the old woman just kept coming for Amit and everything swung around her and then Amit disappeared. Amit was gone right into the old woman’s dress and arms and hair and tits, which would have been good for Amit if he liked tits, which he didn’t. Tom wanted to stand up but his head was hurting from the scream and he couldn’t see properly with the sun in his eyes. He could not even see who was Amit and who was the old woman. But that wasn’t the amazing thing like you wouldn’t read about it in a month of Sundays. The scream stopped. Except it was like the scream was still there even after it stopped being noise, echoing around in your head and in the air. Then someone was humming like mothers do for little kids, and you could hear the gasping noises Amit made when he stopped screaming. Amit stepped out from the old woman’s dress like he was coming out of a tent.
Kaylee whispered, Wow.
Tom said, Hey, you’re my favourite Aborigine person.
Then Kaylee and Russell took minutes and hours to talk to the people under the tree, and all the friends could do was hang around and be sensible and know how to obey instructions so the group could come on more trips and, Do you know what we’re talking about, Tom, even though it was Amit who’d screamed and screamed. And the old woman gave Tom a hug, too, and talked to him like he was just another kid and not a disabilities person and asked about going on the river and about his friends and about Tom’s friend, Robert, but she said she couldn’t play the didgeridoo because she was a woman and not a man.
Take my advice, Tom told Kaylee. I know about these people because I’m a didgeridoo person and a boomerang person.
Kaylee said she didn’t want to talk about it any more, and Russell did a serious look at Tom, which was like his mum saying, Enough! And everyone was angry with Tom for causing the trouble, so he said, It wasn’t my fault. He pushed past Lizzie to walk back to the van and Lizzie fell over because of her stupid leg and it wasn’t even Tom’s strongest push, and then Tom yelled at Russell and Kaylee and all the people, Wait till my dad comes to help me on the river. Then you’ll see! And then Tom sat in the driver’s seat and started the engine with the spare key he borrowed from his brother’s ute, and he hooned the van up and down the street and did donuts and wheelies to make the smoke and the noise, and all the people in the town came out to see like he was a racing driver. And all Tom’s friends were scared to see Tom drive at a hundred and sixty clicks and Virginia cried and said she’d be his proper girlfriend if only Tom would stop.
When Tom was sitting in the van, waiting for everyone to come because they were so slow, he took Kaylee’s phone from her bag and rang his dad to tell him to come quickly, and then he sat in the back seat and didn’t talk to any people at all.
Then Russell drove the van while Kaylee talked to the friends about understanding how people are different and having respect. Russell turned the van off the road onto a bouncing path leading down to the camping place on the river. There’s a top spot at the end of this bush-bashers’ track, he said. Hold on tight, guys. It’ll be a bit rough.
Bush-bashers. My brother doesn’t know that one, Tom said, because everyone was friends again, like Kaylee said was important on a holiday. And that meant the trouble was all over. Unless Kaylee told Tom’s dad when he got to Wassford.
It’ll be strange if we’re the only group, Russell said to Kaylee. Last time I was here, the whole section was bank-to-trees with rafts and kayaks and tents.
It suits me fine if we’re the only ones.
And Russell said, Yeah, just five friends doing their own thing.
Russell made the van bump along the track. This is it, guys.
Newton put his face up against the window. It certainly is dark. You said we’d arrive in the dark, Russell, and now it certainly is dark.
My brother is lucky, Tom thought. He goes crazy about my brain but he doesn’t know about Newton.
I stay inside when it’s dark, Amit said. I have my dinner and watch TV and go to bed when it’s dark at nine o’clock.
Tom did a scary voice. Four minutes to go, Amit. Nine o’clock, ten, eleven, then twelve midnight. That’s when the ghosts come. He pushed his face up close to Amit’s.
Tom is teasing? He likes to tease?
They climbed down from the van into long grass that caught at their sneakers until they learnt to do high-steps like marching at school. The clearing was bigger than Tom’s big backyard at home. Tall trees were growing around the clearing, and the wind in their leaves made a spooky whispering sound. Cool. The clearing was flat, but then the ground sloped down to the water. When no one was doing talking, all you could hear in the clearing was the wind high high up in the trees. When Tom listened hard, sometimes there was a splash. Virginia squealed when they heard the first splash, but Kaylee said it must be a fish jumping or a small animal or probably nothing at all, just your imagination, and it’s been a long day, Tom, so why don’t you give it a rest? Russell left the van headlights switched on while he set up gas lamps and built a campfire. Tom made a path through the high grass to the top of the slope. He could see the water, all black and shiny.
Lizzie and Russell came and stood with him on the bank. Lizzie shivered and squeezed close to Tom, and Tom put his arm around her, which was like saying sorry about the
pushing. Lizzie must have been cold, even though really it was warm even in the dark night. Lizzie was his good friend, but it would have been better if Virginia came and stood close to him in the dark.
Water is scary at night, Lizzie said.
Then Tom remembered. My dad and I walked along the beach in the night-time. He said the water doesn’t change in the dark, only we do.
What does that mean?
I don’t, really don’t know.
Maybe he just didn’t want you to be scared, said Russell.
Russell did a very good job helping the friends in the clearing. They found flat places for the tents high up above the river, so if a flood came they would be safe. Amit stayed close to Russell. Virginia stayed with Kaylee while she unloaded gear from the van. Newton sat in his seat. Nobody talked to Newton. Kaylee said it was an experiment, and they’d wait and see.
Well, I think I’ll get off the van now, Newton said. He stood up from his seat and walked to the top of the steps, then he climbed down onto the grass. Russell jumped in the air and clicked his heels together like the dancing people at the Sydney Opera House. When Russell came back from cutting some firewood, Newton was still standing at the van.
Russell said, Oh, well, small steps are good steps. But he didn’t do any steps or heel clicks; he just stood next to Newton.
On the long drive from Sydney, the friends had talked about sleeping arrangements – that’s what his mum called it when she told him not to do anything inappropriate. She means no trying to get into your girlfriend’s pants, James said, but Tom told him he didn’t have a proper girlfriend and anyway her pants were bigger than his so he could get into them easily. Now, it was nearly bedtime. From the fire, the tents were just two dark shapes, plus two little ones for Kaylee and Russell.
It’s best if Kaylee and Russell decide, said Amit.
Hey, where you sleep has nothing to do with us, said Kaylee. She and Russell had lots of work to do around the fire.
Tom’s dad always said you had to state your case, so Tom said, Virginia and I will be in my dad’s big green tent. Newton, Amit and Lizzie can be in the blue tent.
No way, said Lizzie.
Lizzie should not spoil the plan. Tom shone the torch on his face to look scary, like James showed him.
Think it through, guys, Russell said.
Tom made an angry face at him for interrupting when he was stating his case. Take my advice. It has to be Virginia and me together, because we’re both Down Syndromes.
Yeah, sucked in. Lizzie and Amit and Newton couldn’t say anything.
But then Virginia said that wasn’t a good reason. Lizzie and I will be together because we’re girls, and we have to get changed in there. That’s what our parents would say. The blue tent is smaller, and there’s only two of us, so we’ll have that one.
Well played, Virginia, said Russell. So, you boys get the big green tent. By the way, guys, the man in the general store said we might get some rain tonight. Just stay put if it comes, and you’ll be fine.
Tom checked his digital watch. Sometimes, you really do need a brain that works properly. He said, How about the girls start in the blue tent then we swap? At twelve midnight or four o’clock in the night-time.
It’ll be too cold, said Lizzie. Anyway, you can’t tell the time even with your birthday watch. Not properly.
Lizzie could be a pain sometimes. Virginia hoisted her backpack to follow Lizzie. She smiled as she passed Tom. You can show me your ticket collection in the morning.
Yes, yes. The victory punch. Two fists this time.
Sixteen
Jim was well north now. Away to his left beyond the slopes of the old banana plantations, morning mists wrapped the far hills as if they too were struggling to come to grips with the day. He nearly missed the Wassford turn-off, then the change from the highway to the narrow strip that led to the little town had him concentrating again. Mist and cloud obscured the peaks ahead. Is that how the weather came in up there? Mobile reception was on and off. What if he couldn’t find the group? Earlier that morning, he’d checked for distances, the map spread out on the hotel bed, tracing with a finger the thin black line up into the hills to give himself some sense of the area.
The sealed road followed the river valley most of the way then took to the timbered ridges as the country got hillier, dropping steeply to cross the creeks that fed the main watercourse. He pulled up to peer over the first couple of wooden bridges – hardly a flow, and a concrete ford was bone dry. He passed a For Sale sign nailed to a tree on a rough, scrubby block. Who’d bother?
He was almost halfway to the town when he spotted an old, yellow Volvo. He’d come fast off a ridge down into a wide left-hander onto a one-lane bridge at the base of a gully, and there it was. There was not much room on the gravel shoulder, and the car was at a dangerous angle, bonnet nudging into the scrub, boot stuck out, inviting a clip. It was the position the car had been left in that he noticed first – who’d leave it parked like that? He was well up the other side of the gully before the alternative hit him. Momentum had him two hundred metres past the bridge. There was no real cause to stop, no evidence of any problem, no skid marks. It looked like the car had pulled off slowly, but how would you know? He hadn’t thrown off the feeling that he should find Tom’s group as soon as possible. But what if there was something and he’d just kept going? He pulled over.
I’ll have a quick look. Just in case.
His footfalls crunched on the gravel. If anyone was around, they’d have heard him for sure. The car was unlocked, and an old-fashioned doctor’s bag sat on the back seat like an open invitation. The bonnet was warm to the touch; what if someone’s just been caught short? He had a look up and down the road, checked for other tyre tracks then called quietly, a stage whisper into the bushes. Hello? Are you there?
Down here, came the reply. There’s a path just to the left of the car.
It took a minute to find the entrance, hidden by the fronds of a large tree fern. Jim picked his way along the track, away from the bridge at first then doubling back as the gully steepened. The path was overgrown, not much used, and he stopped to free his sweater, snagged on a branch. He pushed through the last bushes onto a boulder-strewn creek bed. The gully was less than thirty feet wide. No sign of anyone.
Hello there. I heard you walking down the road.
The call came from the far side. The fellow was settled back on his knees on a large boulder a couple of metres above Jim. He must have rock-hopped across or splashed through the few inches of water flowing along the gully floor, and only as he spoke did he turn away from peering under the bridge, sheepishly, as if he’d been caught out in some trivial matter. A boyish face, blond hair sticking up at the back and a floppy fringe. He pushed it back as he stood, as if he knew it would not be taken seriously.
I saw your car, Jim said, the way it was … thought I should check.
Oh, thanks, very thoughtful of you. There’s no problem, though. I often pop in here on my way back to Wassford from the coast. It helps me cool down a bit. The bigwigs over at the base hospital don’t rate me, or my patients. Sorry, I’m Jeremy Farmer, local GP.
You’re in Wassford?
The fellow had made no move to cross the stream. Jim’s first thought now was to head back to the car, so he stayed put on his side, too. The doctor kept glancing along the creek bed. Jim followed his lead, and they stood there for a few moments as if they were engaged in some kind of ritual down there out of sight of the road. Then the other man lowered himself down onto his haunches again. Jim had a last look around. Whatever he was doing down here, the doctor had found himself a beautiful spot. The tree ferns had grown to several metres, great dripping arches over the gully, frond-filtered morning light, the water flowing silver past them then glossy black in the pool under the bridge. Pop in, he’d said. Like a favourite pub, or a church.
Have you always been up here? Jim asked.
Doctor Farmer grinned. He seemed absurdly young
.
Six years, he said. Two was the plan. I told myself I could make a difference. In my line of work, a stint in a place like this looks good on the CV too. The best-laid plans, eh? The locals expect doctors not to stay, just another blow-through, good intentions, same old cycle.
Was he one of those who used self-deprecation as a strategy? So you’ll stay then?
We like the life – I forgot to mention that. Our young ones will be at high school in a few years, though. I imagine we’ll move back to the smoke then. He made a face. Two years or eight, we’ll just be more blow-throughs.
It must be tough practising up here, Jim said.
It keeps you on your toes. On the other hand, as they say, I see them with their kids, I play in their touch-football comp. These are good people around here mainly. They look out for each other too. Anyway, I’m rabbiting on. He gestured towards the bridge. Besides, what are you supposed to do? Refuse to patch them up? Let the young girls go through childbirth on their own?
Another rueful grin. Which, I confess, is why you’ve found me down here now. This is my time-out place. The very first time I came down here, I was sitting on these rocks and there was a platypus in that pool, just on the other side of the bridge.
Really? Jim looked again. He could hardly make out anything along there in the gloom.
I watched it for about ten minutes, Jeremy Farmer said. You hardly ever catch sight of one. I imagine that’s why we think them so beautiful. Can you believe it, though? The very first time. I can’t even remember what brought me down here.
I’ve never seen one, Jim said, straining his eyes to pick out the shapes and movements under the bridge. Not in the wild, at least.
Nor me, before or since. I keep hoping for another glimpse. Occasionally, I hear a splash. No chance now with me prattling on.