I tried not to be rude. Kate didn’t know about my rotten past. I hardly ever talked to anyone about it. This was the longest conversation I’d had on the waves. This was my haven. I could distance myself from the human race, or as my friend Phoebe says, ‘the human disgrace’, by just hanging in the water.
‘I started when I was four.’ Kate gestured towards the horizon. ‘It’s not happening today, in my opinion.’ Kate expanded her arms embracing the ocean.
‘Four, that’s incredible. Lucky you.’
I wanted to blurt out that I was going to be world champion, but I thought better of it. I hadn’t factored in the Kates of the world. What if Kate wanted to be world champion? She’d laugh at me. How could I compete with someone who’d been surfing since they were four! I had to get real about my prospects. I might have to rethink my plan and timeline to be holding the World Cup, autographs and big cheques. I hadn’t thought about the competition. It was me alone riding the waves. I’d jump off my board gracefully and even the judges would clap. It would be the most perfect ride they’d ever seen.
‘Do you reckon there’ll be any action?’ Kate looked out to the horizon, shielding her eyes.
I noticed Kate had the latest sun-protection gear and that her surfboard looked custom made. The board was aquamarine and well camouflaged against the water. Kate appeared to be floating unaided. A shark wouldn’t see her, I thought.
‘No it’s an onshore breeze and it’s been this way since early this morning. I don’t think the wind is going to change, but if I leave it probably will.’
‘Yeah, I think like that. It’s dumb. I wait and wait, get all wrinkly and it doesn’t happen.’
We both looked out to sea. It was flat as a tack and even the breeze had dropped.
‘I think it’s time to exit stage right,’ I said.
‘Excuse me?’
God I’m so uncool. How embarrassing. This was one of those things that still happened to me. Because I’d grown up most of my life in Woop Woop, sometimes my language in the city was totally yesterday. I felt my face tighten with a red flush.
‘You know, go,’ I spluttered out. My stomach fluttered in anticipation of rejection. Would Kate think I was a moron?
‘You mean “hit the frog and toad”,’ Kate laughed.
I looked at her. ‘The frog and what?’
‘Toad, you know those slimy ugly things that give you warts.’
‘Gross.’
‘Haven’t you heard that one?’
‘Yeah I know toads give you warts if you kiss them.’
Kate laughed. ‘No, I mean frog and toad for road. It’s rhyming slang.’
‘Rhyming slang, like Germaine Greer for ear.’
‘Wow, I never heard that one before.’ Kate shaded her eyes and looked straight at me. Her blue eyes were so clear, I saw my reflection in them. ‘What did you say about a stage door?’
‘Oh it was nothing.’
‘Tell me.’
I laughed. ‘It’s just something I picked up ages ago, and it sort of stuck. Exit stage right.’
‘Mmm. I see.’ Kate’s eyes twinkled with amusement. ‘Would you like to come back to my sister’s for a while?’ Kate asked.
I was startled. My hesitation seemed to surprise her.
‘You can say no. I only asked. I reckon it’s cool to meet a girl curl, who isn’t up herself thinking she’s Trudy Todd, or just pretending to be a surfer to impress a grommet. I can tell you’re for real.’
Trudy Todd was another one of my surfing idols. She’d won the Triple Crown title in Hawaii in 1999. I thought about Kate’s offer. Why not go to her sister’s place? I’d always surfed on my own. My best friends Phoebe and Jasmine hated the beach. They rarely came or even swam at all. Phoebe said the sand was revolting because you couldn’t get away from it, and the ocean was so noisy crashing against the shore all the time, that she couldn’t hear herself think. Jasmine hated the sun and cultivated the pale look and wouldn’t even eat sandwiches because they had the word sand in them. It might be good to have a surfing friend. Kate didn’t live here. It didn’t have to be a permanent friendship or anything. I was a bit scared of making new friends. Sooner or later I’d have to tell them about my past and being an orphan and all that. I shuddered inside at the thought.
‘How long are you here for?’ I asked.
‘A few more weeks. Do you want to come or not?’
‘Sure, let’s go.’
We paddled side by side. Picking up our boards as we reached shore, we trotted together on to the sand.
‘Where’s your stuff?’ I asked Kate.
‘Over there,’ Kate pointed.
I only took a towel and a water bottle with me when I went surfing. I’d lost sunglasses, keys, money and clothes in the past. I’d thought I couldn’t find them because I’d forgotten where I’d put them, as the beach seemed to move when I was in the water. The real reason they were gone was simple. Some low-life had ripped them off. I had a small pocket in my wetsuit where I kept money and keys now, and only left my towel and water bottle on the beach.
We made our way up the beach and headed towards Hastings Parade.
Kate’s sister’s place was in a new block of apartments. It had a balcony that looked out across the ocean and the beaches and coastline as far as Maroubra.
‘This must cost a fortune,’ I said looking around.
‘My sister owns it.’
‘Wow.’
‘She’ll be broke forever paying back the bank. She works her guts out as a personal assistant to this politician, practically eight days a week. It’s not my idea of a life, but who am I to judge what anyone does? I couldn’t live here. It’s too new or something.’
Kate opened the balcony doors and I stepped out to take in the familiar view. It was the view I shared from one street higher up.
I pointed out the building I lived in and our rooftop patio.
‘Gee that’s close. That’s great.’
Kate went back inside. I looked at the familiar horizon.
‘Would you like a Cruiser?’ Kate opened the fridge.
‘I d … don’t drink,’ I stammered.
‘Everyone drinks.’ Kate was pouring a Cruiser into two glasses.
‘No, I don’t want any thanks.’ I hoped my voice didn’t quake.
‘Have you ever tried one?’
‘No, I told you I don’t drink.’ I didn’t turn around to look at Kate’s expression. I glued my eyes on a couple of container ships on the horizon.
‘Do you go to parties and stuff, raves or anything?’ ‘Sometimes.’
‘What do you drink there?’
‘Juice.’ I turned and faced Kate.
‘Straight juice, you’re kidding me. Try this, you might like it. One can’t hurt.’
I felt trapped and wished I had the guts to just get up and leave. I’d drunk champagne before and tasted wine, but not these lolly water things. They didn’t appeal to me at all. The colours made me think of technicolour yawning as my stupid Dad used to say. I didn’t like soft drinks much. I think it was because I’d mostly drunk water when I was growing up on the farm. Most of my experiences with alcohol have been bad. The first party I went to in Sydney was awful. There’d been one really drunk girl totally out of it and some stupid guys hassling her. It was so dangerous for her. There was nothing she could do to protect herself. It still freaked me out when I thought about it.
I didn’t know what to say. Kate had put the glass in front of me.
‘Go on, just try it.’
I gave in. I couldn’t be bothered arguing. It was probably true, one couldn’t hurt. The taste was sickly sweet and my eyes watered.
‘Yuck.’
‘You get used to it.’
I wanted to say that I’d never got used to my father’s alcoholism. Somewhere deep in my mind I vaguely remembered Dad before he became totally addicted to it, but I’d quickly lose the memory if I tried to grasp it. I wanted to say something but I couldn’t b
e bothered.
‘I don’t like it. I’d rather juice or water.’ I walked towards the kitchen to pour it down the sink.
‘All right, don’t drink it then, but don’t waste it. I’ll drink it.’ Kate sounded annoyed.
‘I told you I don’t drink and anyway I don’t like the taste.’ I put the glass down on the bench.
‘How about champagne? Everyone likes champagne.’ Kate went to the fridge again and brought out a bottle.
‘I said juice or water would be fine.’ I sighed. How many times did I have to go through this?
I felt like an endangered species when I said no to alcohol and drugs. It wasn’t because of all the bad stuff said in the papers and school. I didn’t believe a lot of it because my friends enjoyed themselves and didn’t end up front-page news. It was just that I didn’t like the thought of losing control in any situation with out-of-it people. I’d heard a couple of people giving away their secrets and behaving badly with a few drinks or on some drugs. I was scared I’d blurt out the truth about my parents. The other reason was Dad’s alcohol problem. I was scared I might become one too, and murder someone. I’d heard this stuff about it being genetic. If I didn’t drink maybe I’d be safe from that. My brother felt the same. Aunt Jean said that it wasn’t necessarily genetic, but she couldn’t convince us when she said it was about choice and moderation.
Kate interrupted my thoughts.
‘Come on Jules, it’s so good meeting you. I thought I’d be totally alone here, except for my sister and her old friends.’
‘All right, just a small glass then.’
I could handle drinking for a celebration. In fact that was the decision I made last year about alcohol. I’d only drink when I was celebrating something. I didn’t feel very cheerful now though. I felt weak and a little ashamed that I’d given in. The bubbles went up my nostrils and I sort of coughed. Why couldn’t I be as strong as I was when I was on a wave? Where did my power go on land?
‘You really aren’t very good at this, are you?’ Kate said.
‘I don’t want to be good at it. I might go now thanks,’ I bristled.
‘Why? You’ve only just got here and it’s not as if you have to go anywhere. Chill out.’
I walked over to the window.
‘Look Kate, I don’t like doing things I don’t want to. Okay.’ I looked at her. ‘It’s been a really hard year for me and plenty of times people have tried to get me to drink or take drugs, but I’ve said no, because I wanted to say no.’ My voice quivered and my lip shook, but I felt determined to say what I had to say.
‘I’m sorry Jules, I’m used to getting drunk with my friends and stuff. That’s what we do. It’s our fun, you know, it’s practically all there is to do. Everything else is so boring. I don’t want to give you a hard time.’
‘Well it’s not my idea of a good time, and if that means you don’t want to hang around or go surfing with me that’s fine. I’m cool on my own.’
‘No, no. I want to surf with you and I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re the first person over the age of twelve I’ve met, that doesn’t just want to get wasted. You’ll be good for me. I’ll have to keep it together around you.’ Kate saluted me, which I didn’t like, but I said nothing.
I didn’t want to be good for her. I didn’t want to keep having to say no about things. I know it was just some alcohol now, but what next, drugs? I thought about Phoebe and Jasmine. They drink and stuff, but they never hassle me. They said I was great to go out with because I always looked after them.
‘Look Kate, you might think I’m totally uncool. All I really like is surfing and I’m not into parties or stuff. I get bored seeing people out of it. You might want to go out with my friends. They’re into all that stuff.’
‘Yeah, sure, but I’d still like to get to know you. You’re cool for being you. Don’t forget that.’
I smiled, despite myself. ‘Let’s deal, you don’t hassle me about the drink and drugs stuff, and we’ll be cool. If you hassle me, even once, I’m out of here.’
‘Cool. The mention of alcohol will never pass these lips in your presence, captain.’
‘Don’t call me captain.’
‘Not an issue. It’s a deal. Do you think we should write it down and sign it in blood or earwax or something?’
I laughed. ‘That’s disgusting.’
‘What, blood?’
‘Earwax, that’s an ugly thought.’
I felt more comfortable. Laughing did that I reckon. I relaxed and listened as Kate told me about some of the different beaches she’d surfed. I felt a bit light-headed and pleased with the world.
‘Do you want another one?’
‘No thanks, I better go. Maybe we could meet later on this afternoon if the breeze changes. I could ring you.’
‘That’d be great. I’ll give you my number.’
‘I won’t surf with you if you’re drunk, okay.’
‘Chi-i-ill! I don’t surf if I’m drunk. It’s a trip to suicide, not my kind of thing. I won’t have any more now. I don’t drink alone, that’s so desperate, I reckon.’
I smiled. Kate was different from my other friends. I admired her for being so upfront and saying chill in this cool voice. Maybe our surfing bond made me feel like I’d known her for ages, not that we’d only met a couple of hours ago.
‘I’ll call you with a weather report.’
Kate grabbed me and gave me a hug. I got such a shock.
‘It’s so good I met you, Jules. I had a feeling something was going to happen, you know. Today felt different. I’m so psychic, I should write personal predictions for a girl-power mag.’
I laughed, ‘I’ll ring you even if the weather doesn’t change.’
‘Don’t forget.’
I sort of skipped home not even feeling the surfboard’s weight. A surfing friend, I could share impact zones, floaters and cut-backs with. I felt so good. I wondered how long it would be before I let something slip about my past. That put the anchors on my skips. Sighing, I slowly walked the footpath breathing in that burnt eucalypt smell.
CHAPTER 2
Monday Evening
Aunt Jean was home. I could hear her in the kitchen.
‘Hi Aunt Jean.’
‘Hi Julie, how was your day?’
‘No surf but I met this cool girl curl.’
‘Girl curl?’ Aunt Jean gave me a queer look.
‘You know, girl surfer, don’t be so yesterday. That’s what I am. A girl curl. A waxhead.’
Aunt Jean looked concerned. ‘I hope you’re a bit more than that, Julie.’
Why was Aunt Jean so serious, why didn’t she just chill out and get a life!
I know my school results were on her mind and that she was dying to ask if they’d come with today’s mail. My mental vomit zone was thinking what those results were going to say. It had been a bad year and I didn’t feel I could possibly have done very well. I prayed every day for a mail strike.
I went to the fridge to get some chilled water.
‘Do you want a slice of lemon with that?’
Aunt Jean already had a tumbler filled with ice cubes and lemon.
‘Yes.’
‘Let’s go up to the roof where you can tell me all about this, um, girl curl you’ve met.’
The air became thicker as I climbed the stairs. I stepped out on to the roof and the heat closed in all around me. It was hard to breathe and my throat burnt slightly. ‘Gee it’s bloody hot.’ I remember the first time I’d said ‘bloody’, when I was about seven, I got belted. It didn’t seem fair because I’d learnt the bloody word off Mum and Dad. It didn’t stop me saying it then, and now I say it when I bloody well feel like it, whenever I bloody can.
We walked to the roof’s edge.
‘I’ve never seen it like this before. So much smoke, so close and even burning embers falling in some parts of the city,’ Aunt Jean said. ‘They believe most of the fires were deliberately lit.’
I shuddered. My fathe
r deliberately lit a deadly fire.
Aunt Jean looked at me and put her hand on my arm. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up that subject.’
‘I’ve got to get over words like, you know, murder, arson, domestic violence, child abuse.’ I looked at Aunt Jean defiantly.
‘Oh Julie.’
‘It’s okay.’ I turned away, tears stinging my eyes. I took deep breaths, tried to think about nothing and not spin out. ‘It’s not your fault.’
‘Remember, it’s not yours either.’
I shook her hand off my arm. ‘I didn’t say it was.’
‘Julie, a lot of children …’
‘I’m not a child!’
I was that close to just getting up and running down to my room and slamming the door, but something held me back. Maybe my age, I wasn’t fourteen anymore. I felt my mother around me, calming me. I wanted Mum in person, not just this feeling. I wanted her to hug me, like she used to when I was upset. I’d never have my mother’s hug again, ever. Its absence made me ache all over. I wanted to roll up into a little ball and roll away.
Aunt Jean’s voice interrupted my impending despair.
‘Jules, I didn’t mean to offend you and say you’re a child. I was saying a lot of young people …’
I shot daggers and was about to say something angry.
Aunt Jean put her hand up. ‘Please don’t interrupt. Children, young people, even adults feel responsible for their parents’ or partner’s bad behaviour.’
‘I’ve heard this a thousand times.’ I crossed my arms.
If Aunt Jean was going to lecture me, I was going to jump off the roof. I could see the headline in the paper. ‘Potential World Champion Girl Curl Final Fall Total Wipe-out!’ I almost smiled at the way my brain interrupted a dramatic moment with a stupid thought.
‘Julie, let’s have a truce. It’s too hot and airless to waste energy fighting. I know you know all about it.’ Aunt Jean put her hand on my arm and I let her. ‘Tell me about this girl you’ve met.’
I was glad Aunt Jean had changed the subject. The unhappy part of me wanted to say she drinks and takes drugs.
‘She’s cool.’
What’s the point of me being angry with Aunt Jean? After all what’s she ever done wrong to me?
Still Waving Page 2