‘What’s her name?’
‘Kate.’
‘Does she live around here?’
‘No, up the coast. She’s staying with her sister over there.’ I pointed at the apartment block.
‘Whoa. Very nice. Very expensive.’
‘Her sister works for some politician. She’s his personal assistant or something.’
‘Very stressful job, I’d imagine.’
‘Kate reckons her sister works eight days a week.’
‘You’ll have to invite Kate over.’
‘I told her I’d ring her if the waves got up.’
‘There’s a postcard from Toby, did you see it?’
‘Yeah, I read it before I went out.’
I was surprised that I got a lump in my throat. I missed my brother. It was the first time I realised it. When he was here he’d driven me mad with his attitude. I was glad he went to stay with Uncle Wayne for the holidays. They were building a house and Uncle Wayne had bought some sheep. Toby said Uncle Wayne was doing it all really differently. I didn’t know what he meant. Toby also said he was glad he was away from the noise, smell and crowds, and that he’d hardly seen anyone. He didn’t go anywhere, just stayed on the farm. I worried about that a bit. I’d ask my friend Ruby and some of her brothers to go see him and take him for a swim at the waterhole.
‘He sounds happy don’t you think?’
‘He doesn’t like the city much, but yeah he sounds good. I hope he doesn’t get lonely.’
‘Do you miss him?’
‘Do you?’ I shot back.
‘Yes and no,’ Aunt Jean laughed. ‘I’m glad he sounds happier than he has for a long time.’
‘Yeah I sort of miss him, but I’m glad I don’t have to hassle with him every day. You know all that stuff about us conspiring against him because of being what he called femobats, whatever that meant.’
‘I understand why he feels that sometimes, but it’s tiring trying to convince him that he has to take responsibility for his attitude and lack of cooperation. Whatever we try and do it’s in his best interests and I hope one day he’ll realise that.’ Aunt Jean sounded a bit edgy. ‘I’m glad he seems happier. It’s all you can wish.’
For a moment I was taken back in time to when I’d heard my grandmother say those very same words. We clinked glasses.
‘To femobats!’ I said and Aunt Jean laughed loudly.
The afternoon was fading fast. I finished my drink and could taste smoke in my mouth and in my nostrils. We sat in comfortable silence, staring out to sea. I liked that with Aunt Jean. If we had a disagreement it wouldn’t go on and on, like it did with Mum. When it was over, it was truly over. I could sit comfortably without having to speak and Aunt Jean wouldn’t assume something was up.
‘Kate drinks.’ I broke the silence. ‘I hate how you’re made to feel like a freak if you don’t want to get wasted. It’s stupid.’
‘It must be hard. I suppose it makes you feel different, not one of the crowd.’
I let Aunt Jean put her arm around me. ‘Yeah different, I’ll always be different won’t I? I’ll never be the same as them. I’ll never really be one of the crowd.’
‘Others have been through what you have and I imagine they feel the same way you do.’
‘My counsellor told me last time that they were trying to get a group together, you know, other kids who have experienced familial murders, but I don’t know. If they’re anything like me, they won’t want to talk about it with anybody.’
‘It would be a very quiet group.’ Aunt Jean was trying to raise the heavy cloud descending around us.
‘Well I don’t want to talk about it ever again.’ I felt sad, that this probably couldn’t happen. It would never go away.
‘I think the breeze is changing,’ Aunt Jean sighed. I knew it hurt her as much as me, but sometimes I felt so terribly alone that it was beyond sharing words. Everything came out angry and disjointed.
I walked to the roof edge. There was a slight change, but not in the right direction for surfing.
‘I don’t think there’ll be waves. I’ll give it another hour before I decide if it’s worth taking a look.’
‘What about a swim if there’s no surf? I’d like to cool off. I feel like I’ve got smoke all in my skin and hair.’ Aunt Jean rubbed her graying hair.
‘Okay.’
‘Will you invite your new friend?’
‘Not today. I need some space.’
When we got back from the beach, Aunt Jean had the first shower. I rang Kate.
‘Hi, it’s Jules.’
‘Hi, I’m glad you rang. I thought you’d forget.’
‘I went for a swim with my aunt. It was glassy, not even a wavelet.’
‘Wavelet?’ Kate spluttered.
‘A baby wave,’ I laughed. ‘Tomorrow the wind is meant to shift to the south west. Do you want to check it out first light?’
‘Wicked.’
‘If you walk up your street and take the first street left, I’ll be outside a white building. You’ll see me.’
‘I’ll pray for the wind to change.’
‘Do you pray?’
‘Yeah to someone I believe in. Me, myself and I.’
I felt good at how Kate made me laugh, when I least expected it.
‘I better go and have a shower,’ I said. ‘See you in the morning.’
‘Yep, see you at sparrow fart.’
‘Kate, that’s revolting.’
‘What do you say?’
‘Light before the dawn.’
‘Jules, you’re weird. Catch you tomorrow.’
I knew Kate meant I was weird in a nice way. I didn’t feel offended. I grabbed my pyjamas and went to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt different than I had this morning but looked the same. I tried to see if any of the change I felt inside, showed on the outside. I couldn’t see any difference so I turned the shower on, regulated to the right temperature and stepped under.
That night as I lay in my bed, I tried to count up the good and bad things that made up my day. Meeting Kate was a plus I think. I wondered if Phoebe and Jasmine would like her. My friendship with them had grown in the past year. It took a little while because I was so shy. I was also petrified that they’d find out about the court case and who my father was. It gave me nightmares trying to think how I’d tell them the truth. I’d decided I had to. I’d grown to trust they liked me and a secret like that between friends was a drag, I was always on my guard and pretty evasive when they asked me questions. I remember Phoebe saying to me over and over, to loosen up and not be so serious.
I eventually told them about my family. They were stunned and hugged me tight. I cried, they cried and then we all laughed. It felt so much better that I didn’t have to carry that secret anymore. I knew they’d kept it completely confidential. If they hadn’t I would’ve been able to tell by how other kids at school treated me. I didn’t detect any change in how others were. Phoebe and Jasmine didn’t stop being my friends, or treat me like I had a murderer’s gene or anything. They were totally cool. I loved them both for that. I felt lucky to have such good friends.
Toby had told me he hadn’t told anyone at his new school about the murders. He didn’t feel like he had to or even wanted to. Boys were different. Girls hug and swap hankies. Boys get embarrassed if you tell them something personal. His mates would only have made bad jokes and pretended Toby would murder them. He didn’t want to bother with the crap that would follow telling about his past in the bush, is how he explained keeping such a huge secret.
When I’d asked Toby if he thought he’d ever tell anyone, he’d answered never. I said I thought it was unhealthy not to talk about it with someone. He’d responded with, ‘So’s living.’ What could I say? It was frustrating trying to have a grown-up conversation with Toby. It was like Toby’s brain was an animal of a different species. I had to accept we had different tunings. It didn’t mean he was an idiot. It meant we were different,
that’s all. Sounds simple but sometimes I couldn’t help shaking my head at his apparent incomprehension of the basic facts of life.
I eventually got tired of thinking and dropped off to sleep. My last sleepy thoughts were of surfing. Please bring us waves tomorrow, was my last conscious thought.
CHAPTER 3
Tuesday Morning
I awoke to dawn light peeping through a gap in the curtains. Dressing hurriedly, I grabbed my wetsuit and surfboard and placed them in the hall. Aunt Jean was still asleep. I tiptoed passed her door and went out and up on to the roof. The sun hadn’t appeared but it announced its imminent arrival with shafts of light stretching to the dark sky above. The rays of the impending sun reflected across the water and into the clouds of smoke above. There was a slight south-westerly breeze. Great, there’d be some kind of swell.
Looking towards the southern end of the beach, I tried to make out in the semi-dark, if the ocean was good for surfing. I thought I could detect the roll of waves in the blackened water. Why did I always forget to bring the binoculars? Maybe I ought to stash them somewhere safe on the roof. I realised immediately that it wouldn’t work because I used them from the balcony regularly too. They’d never be where I wanted them. I looked to the horizon at the smoke sitting motionless. It didn’t seem as thick as yesterday. The sky above lightened and the distant stars started disappearing, one by one. To the west there was a crescent moon low in the sky. The lights were still on in the streets, and the cafés on Campbell Parade. It was going to be a good day. I could feel it in my bones!
I raced downstairs, had a glass of water, grabbed a banana and ate it as I pulled my wetsuit on. I wrote a quick note for Aunt Jean. This was one of her rules. No matter what, I had to let her know where I was going. I wrote I doubted I’d be back before she went to work, SURF’S UP, in big letters. Sometimes Aunt Jean watched me surfing through the binoculars. This gave me a warm feeling. Even though Aunt Jean drove me mad sometimes, I knew she cared for me.
I closed the front door quietly and raced down the stairs to the street. Kate wasn’t there. I wondered if she was awake yet. I hoped so, because I wouldn’t wait forever. I could see more of the street and could hear the air brakes of descending buses and garbage trucks roaring around Military Road. One of my neighbours jogged by and we nodded at each other in recognition. A couple of people from the flats down the road were just getting home.
‘Jules.’
I looked up and could see Kate shadowed against the fading night sky.
‘Kate, hi. I reckon the wind’s offshore.’
‘It’s definitely coming from over there.’ Kate pointed south west.
We padded down the street in a half run.
‘Do you want to go along the Parade or beach?’
‘How far is it?’
‘About a kilometre.’
‘Let’s go along the beach.’
We headed past the rock pool. It was half full of seawater. The tide was coming in. Waves crashed, spraying spumes of whitewater over the rocks. There were a couple of fishermen at Ben Buckler Point. We walked hastily along the top of the beach. There weren’t many cars on Campbell Parade. A cacophony of birdsong beat the traffic sounds. Sulphur-crested cockatoos screeched around the decreasing shadows of the pavilion. Rainbow lorikeets hopped around the grass, and on and off the overflowing rubbish bins. Pied magpies were noisily engaged in a battle with the lorikeets for control of the rubbish bins.
‘I didn’t expect that there would be so many birds,’ Kate said, looking towards the pavilion and the screeching cockies. ‘It’s probably one of the only cities in the world where there are more than pigeons, sparrows and mynahs.’
We walked to the water’s edge and felt the water temperature. Waves crashed intermittently against the shore. A tractor up ahead was raking the sand for rubbish. Two beach buggies crawled along beside the tractor. One had large rubbish bins on it and the other one had the rescue boards that they placed along the foreshore. Anyone could use them but they mostly were for the lifesavers to use if anyone got into trouble in the water. Several people with metal detectors were moving up and down and around and round the sand, hunting for the loose change that had fallen out of other people’s pockets.
The sky lightened and day crept over the suburbs. The smoke gave the rising sun an eerie look. From a huge golden orb rising above the sea, it became like a red basketball above the horizon. The reflections of light, mixed with smoke, made the sky in the east, amber streaked with topaz. Rays of sunlight streaked across the water.
‘Being a surfer is so good,’ Kate said. ‘We see the best sunrises and sunsets nearly every day of our lives.’
‘It’s magic.’ I laughed and felt lighter than I had in a long time.
We stopped for a moment and took in the confused sky. Kate turned around.
‘I’ve never seen so many joggers in my life.’
‘I’d rather surf or swim. I don’t get this running thing,’ I replied, silently counting joggers.
‘Me either.’
When we reached the southern end there were a handful of surfers out near the break. A few people stood close to shore, facing the sun. Others were in the water ducking under waves as they rolled across them. The lifesavers had already put the safety flags up. We put our towels between the flag and the southern reef.
We watched a young guy wipe out.
‘Grommet!’ Kate and I said together, laughing.
We paddled out beyond the break. The waves were nearly a metre. Not big, but good to practise techniques on.
‘Be careful of the leftie,’ I said pointing to the reef. ‘You can end up getting scraped on the rocks if you wipe out over there.’ I studied the sea. ‘It’s okay, they’re breaking right.’
‘Doesn’t look like we’ll be shooting tubes today, it hasn’t got the height.’ Kate spoke very loudly.
‘No but there’s plenty else we can do.’ I didn’t say I hadn’t advanced to tubes, yet.
We rocked up and down and watched out to the ocean for the signs of the best waves rolling in.
‘I’m off!’ I started paddling, ready for the rise of the wave.
I was up and trimmed along the face. I sped along, spray hitting my face, stinging slightly. I went all the way and pulled out before the wave broke. I felt exhilarated and paddled straight back out, energised and capable of anything.
Kate and I didn’t talk much. We were both focused totally on the waves. Occasionally we called encouragement and congratulated each other when we did something wicked. I did some excellent cut-backs and was ecstatic that I’d got this manoeuvre down to a fine art.
The breeze was shifting and the swell started to drop. The ocean became glassy and the morning surf was disappearing very fast. Instead of sets, the waves became scarce and irregular.
‘You’re good,’ Kate said as she paddled over to me.
‘You did some cool stuff yourself.’
‘Thanks. Heaps of practice.’
‘Did you teach yourself?’ I asked Kate.
‘Sort of. My Dad surfed, that’s how come I learnt so young. As I got older I watched videos of women’s pro/am comps. You know Pam Burridge, Lisa Anderson and the rest. I just sort of copied them, but tried to develop my own style. My first board was called the “Girl Board”. It was made in the 1950s. I’ve still got it.’
‘Unreal.’
‘You ought to come to my house one day and check it out. It’s pretty fragile, though. It’s made of balsa wood,’ Kate laughed.
I knew what balsa wood was from my days on the farm and the aeroplanes we’d made. We’d fly them for hours, all over the paddocks, even amongst the sheep.
‘That’s incredible. Your board is like fifty years old!’
‘I’m going to have a fiftieth birthday party for Gidget. That’s her name. Do you want to come?’
‘Gidget?’
‘That’s what my auntie called her and the name has stuck.’
‘When’s the party
?’
‘I’ll have to ring my aunt and ask her the exact date.’
‘Does your aunt still surf?’
‘No. She stopped when she got married and lives hundreds of miles from the beach now.’
That sounded sad.
As we walked up the beach, I felt excited. I was usually not interested in meeting other people, but I was looking forward to meeting Kate’s family.
‘Do you enter comps?’ I asked tentatively.
‘No. Not interested. I don’t like all the rules and shit, and the judging of your ride by some wannabe. I reckon competitions cramp your style. You can’t freestyle because there’s points for this and points for that. If you get a crappy wave, you’re history. It’s not my scene.’ Kate turned and smiled. ‘What about you?’
‘No, I’ve never done it. I haven’t even joined any clubs or anything.’
I suddenly felt awkward about entering my first competition. Maybe I’d withdraw, maybe I wasn’t ready yet. I wondered if my surfing dream was only a crazy fantasy.
‘Not into groups, huh?’
‘Not really.’ I couldn’t tell Kate it was because I didn’t want anyone to ask me questions about my past. I wouldn’t be able to fool the Bondi girls with a story about me growing up here. They’d know I hadn’t and then they’d want to know where I’d come from and the rest. I didn’t want to have to tell every person I ever met my life story. I felt a stab of anger and kicked the sand. Why, when things appeared simple, did they suddenly become complicated? Did I really want to be world champion? What about when they questioned me about my past? Doubt flooded in.
Kate looked at me. ‘Are you all right?’
I kept walking. ‘I’m fine. I just got some sand in my feet and I was trying to shake it out.’ I didn’t care if Kate believed me or not.
We silently walked along the beach. More people were making claims to bits of sand with their towels, bags and lotions. I could smell coconut oil and sunscreen. My arms were sore from all the paddling I’d done. I stopped and took a huge slug of water and it dribbled down my chin. I wiped it away.
‘That was excellent. I’m stoked,’ Kate said. ‘That’s the best set of breaks I’ve ridden since I got here.’
Still Waving Page 3