Wrath

by Anne Davies

  I liked it too. I’d started to grow but not as fast as most of the other boys. I’d always remembered Mr Squires’ words about making sure you didn’t have any hassles at home and at school, so I didn’t make too much of a pain of myself in class and I did my homework because it was better than being around Reid, plus I wanted to prove him wrong. I wasn’t a loser.

  One weekend, Katy knocked on my door and said, “Luca, I’ve got a game at Dongara tomorrow. Mum said we could stay there tonight at the hotel and come home tomorrow afternoon after the game. Do you want to come?”

  “Is he going too?”

  She sighed and pursed her lips, the bright lip gloss she wore making her mouth look like a squashed tomato. “Of course he is; duh!”

  “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask Erin to come, then.” Katy shrugged and left, her face blank.

  Mum came in a couple of minutes later, a frown on her face. “Come on Luca, you’ll enjoy it, and you’ll be on your own overnight if you stay here.”

  “I’m 15, Mum! Just go! I don’t want to, and Katy will have a better time with her friend than with me.”

  Mum screwed up her mouth, just like Katy had. “That’s not the point! We’re going as a family!” I couldn’t keep the look off my face, and she turned away angrily. “Do what you want then!”

  Half an hour later, they left. Mum stuck her head in my room before they went and said, “There’s cold meat and salad in the fridge and plenty of bread for breakfast and sandwiches tomorrow. I don’t want anyone here while we’re away, so no inviting any friends over. We’ll be back by tea time tomorrow night.”

  I looked up from the book I was reading and nodded, and then she was gone. As soon as I heard the car drive off, I put my book down, leant back on the pillow and stretched. The joy of it! The whole house to myself! My room seemed to expand around me. It was nothing like the little old room I used to share with Katy. This one wasn’t super big, but it had everything anyone could want. There was a big built-in wardrobe with mirrored doors, a set of deep shelves for all my books, and a chest of drawers.

  The best thing was the window. It was wide and filled the room with light. There were plants outside to hide the neighbour’s fence, but the right side of the window was clear of them, and I could see sky and sea across the tops of the houses lower down. I even had a glimpse of the war memorial, a white dome of metal gulls that glinted in the sun and glowed under a full moon. I had put my study desk under that window, which sometimes served as an escape hatch late at night. I’d only done it a few times, but it was easy to slide it open early on so that no one would hear me go out later. Originally, I’d just gone for a walk around the silent streets on a hot summer’s night when I couldn’t sleep, but lately I’d been joining a few kids down on the beach.

  We’d just lie around and smoke a bit of dope. It was easy to get at school. Kids came into school from farms, and lots of them had stashes of marijuana they’d grown in some hidden place. It was easy to grow and dry, and they’d pack it into little cellophane bags and sell it pretty cheap. We’d stretch out on the sand, the waves rolling in and out and the moon washing everything white, and we’d puff away.

  The big black dome of sky above us was that same one Dad and I had lain under, but how much more beautiful it was when I was high! No longer was it a scattering of stars. Now each one, as I looked at it, seemed to pulse forward and stand proud of all the others. I could have reached out and touched them. Each perfect star filled my vision, and everything else faded away around it. All I needed to do was look a little to the left or the right, and a new star—as though waiting just for me, for my undivided attention—would merge with my brain, its light filling my eyes, my mind, and soaking down through every part of me.

  I had felt so relaxed. Everything was perfect. I loved my friends, the breeze, the sand under me, the sound of the waves. I wished I could stay there, held in the arms of each moment forever, but then it would slowly wear off and I would be left lying on the sand, getting cold, with the stars once again way beyond my reach. The other guys around me would start stirring, and we’d drift home, our mouths dry, our movements dream-like.

  Well, tonight, I’d be down on the beach again. Someone would be there. I had a job at a café on the beach, and it was enough to keep me in weed. I didn’t smoke it a lot—just down there, really. I’d never have brought it into the house. Someone would have smelled it, and Reid would have said nothing while Mum went off at me, but in his eyes, I would have seen his glee at my turning into the loser he’d predicted I’d be.

  My glance dropped down to my desk. All my books were lined up neatly, the way I liked them. Mum had put a photo there of Katy and me taken at our primary graduation two and a half years before. I picked it up. Katy had changed. She was taller, and her hair was long and shiny instead of in those dinky little ponytails she’d worn back then—and me, well… I looked closely. I looked so young in the photo. Then I crossed the room to my wardrobe and looked hard at myself in the mirror.

  I was pleased with what I saw. I hadn’t exactly grown a lot in height, but I was heavier, and my arms and legs were lightly muscled. I didn’t look like a kid, that’s for sure. My face had squared off around the jaw a bit. My eyes were dark and intense, and my nose didn’t look so long anymore. My face had kind of grown around it. I’m not bad looking! I thought with a grin. My skin was olive, like Dad’s, and there was a look in my eyes that hadn’t been there back in primary school—kind of wary, as though I were sizing people up. In the photo, my eyes were kind of open and soft, like a child’s.

  I’m becoming a man! I thought proudly, and I turned side-on, stuck out my chest and struck an ‘Arnie’ pose. Then I had to laugh and shake my head; there was still a fair way to go. I was still a skinny 15-year-old kid.

  I had a bit of homework to do but not today. This day was mine, and tomorrow too! I made a sandwich, put some music on and turned up the volume, singing along as loudly as I wanted. This was great! I left the stuff on the bench—I could clean up later—grabbed some money, my bathers and a towel, and I headed out the front door. This is what it was going to be like every day when I grew up and left. I’d have my own place and I could do exactly what I wanted.

  It was a hot day, and by the time I’d jogged down the hill to the beach, I was sweating. The harbor stretched to the left along the far arc of the water, concrete silos like fat, grey test tubes huddled next to the wharf. To my right lay the marina, a few squat fishing boats rubbing shoulders with the odd yacht and pleasure boat. I pulled off my shoes and crossed the street to the beach, waving to a few kids I knew who were kicking a footy along the beach. I ducked into the change rooms, peeled off my sticky clothes and pulled on my board shorts.

  Within three minutes, I was in the water, diving under the waves that were rolling over lazily a few metres out. Lying on my back, I kicked out until I was past them, and then I floated for a while, my eyes closed, body rocking rhythmically as the swell surged beneath me.

  Something slid close by me, and I jerked up. There were plenty of sharks around Geraldton, so I struck out for the beach, willing my pounding heart to quiet down and not send distress signals through the water. Then I heard a high burst of laughter. Karol, the Croatian girl who’d started school here a few months before, was treading water in front of me. Every boy in my year lusted after her. She was tall and athletic but slim, with green eyes and the smoothest skin I’d ever seen. And that skin, lightly tanned and gleaming wetly, was right there banded only by two tiny red strips.

  “You think I’m shark?” she laughed, smoothing her wet hair back from her forehead.

  “You can eat me any time,” I grinned back and then ducked under the water in embarrassment. What a stupid thing to say! She’ll think I’m just a sleazebag now, I thought, but when I came back up, she was smiling just the same. Thank God her English wasn’t good.

  “Can you show me how to do that riding of the waves without a surfboard?�
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  “Body surfing?”

  “Yes, yes, that’s right,” Karol said.

  “No worries. We need to come in a bit closer to the shore.”

  We swam in towards the beach a little to where the waves started swelling. Karol couldn’t swim very well, but she loved trying to catch the waves. Bad luck she was always too slow and didn’t really get a decent ride.

  After she’d tried about a dozen times, I said, “Here, get behind me and hang on tight around my neck, and I’ll show you what to do.” She grabbed me round the neck. “Aaargh!” I choked. “Too tight! Don’t strangle me!”

  She laughed, a real laugh, and I joined in. God, she was gorgeous, the salt water droplets caught in her eyelashes, her teeth white, her skin honey. Then I felt that smooth skin pressed against my back, and she hooked her arms under mine and held onto my shoulders.

  “Not strangle now!” she said. I could feel every bump and curve as she clung to me. Thank God the water was cold. I could have just stood there forever and died happy, but she said impatiently, “When do we surf our bodies?” I snapped my head back and saw a nice little wave starting to gather strength.

  “As soon as I start swimming, just kick as fast as you can, and if we time it right, the wave will carry us with it. Now!” I lunged forward with her clinging like a barnacle. We rode it right to the beach, and then she let go and we both rolled in the sandy water, trying not to gulp in any of it as we gasped with laughter. Her bikini bottom had ridden up, and the white skin looked so silky and touchable, and then she hooked them back into place with a shy laugh.

  “Ha! I have sand in places where sand should not be!” she said, wading back out to where it was deeper, and I could see she was sluicing water through those straining red strips of cloth.

  “I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” I breathed silently, and then she struck out towards the deeper water, calling over her shoulder, “Again, Luca; I want to do it again!”

  And that’s how the whole afternoon went. If only it could have gone on forever. Finally, she said through chattering teeth, “I must become warm again. Look at my hands!” I looked and saw they were white with a bluey tinge. I grabbed one of them and started to drag her towards the shore. My God! My boardies were baggy but not enough to hide the mini-tent happening at the front. Shit! If I run up the beach with her, one of my mates will notice and burst out laughing. Everyone will see! Karol will be disgusted! Quick, horrific visions of lying on the sand and looking like a ski jump or tripping and pole-vaulting on the beach ran cartoon-like through my mind. I let go of her hand and said, “My towel’s just near that flag. Lie down on it, and you’ll warm up in a couple of minutes.”

  “Are you not coming?” she asked.

  “I just want to catch one more wave, and then I’ll be there.” I turned before she could think of anything else to say and swam out fast. Five minutes later, I was nearly back to normal and ran up the beach and flopped onto the hot sand. It was so delicious, the contrast of hot and cold, those funny shivers coursing through my body.

  She lay on her back, her arms folded over her face. I was belly down for safety, with my head turned towards her, resting on my elbows. I closed my eyes, but through my lashes, I was running my eyes from her toes right up to her raised arms. She was so close to me, her thigh touching mine. I lay my head down on my arms and just wallowed in the warmth of that long, smooth leg pressing lightly against me. Hell, here we go again! I wriggled into the sand, and then suddenly she sat up and began pulling her T-shirt over her head. “Thank you so much, Luca! I like that very much. Could you teach me again another time? I must go home now.”

  “But why? We could have a hamburger on the beach later. There are always people here Saturday night.”

  Karol shook her head decisively. “No, my parents would not permit that. I must be home before dinner.”

  “Why not come down here after that?” I persisted.

  She laughed, twisting her long, dark blonde hair back into a loose bun on top of her head. “I am not allowed out at night alone with a boy for another two years, but I can see you at school and here at the beach on the weekend.” She smiled and then bent down and touched my cheek. “Thank you very much for today. You are very kind.” Then she turned and walked quickly across the sand. When she reached the road, she turned and waved—how did she know I’d be watching her?—brushed the sand off her feet and was gone.

  My mind was buzzing. How your life can change in a couple of hours! Before, she’d just been another pretty, out-of-reach girl in an ugly school uniform; now she was a golden goddess, warm and beautiful, and she liked me! She was going to come to the beach again. I lay back down on the sand and started imagining what might happen the next time; us swimming and then my arms around her underwater—maybe later, under a towel, a big one. I would have to buy one. This one was too small.

  My mind drifted on.

  “What’re you doing, Luca? Want to get a burger?”

  I sat up quickly. Three guys from school were there: Ross, Brian and Toby.

  “Or do you want to lie there having a wet dream over that Croatian chick?” They laughed like drains, slapping Brian, the joker, on the back.

  “Yeah, right, very funny.” How right he was! Then I jumped up and ran at him, knocking him into the sand, and we rolled and scrambled, laughing, until we hit the water.

  Watching the sun drop towards the horizon and the sky changing colour, eating a burger, pretty much in love, no one at home—life couldn’t be better. For some reason, Dad popped into my mind, but I pushed him out again as quickly as I could.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  When it got dark, we went for a walk through the main street. I have to say, there was a lot more to do and see in Geraldton than where I’d come from. I still missed it, but I missed it like I missed being in primary school or playing hidey or helping Dad in the shed. It was time to put it away in my mind. All over.

  We met a few other kids and hung around across the road from the pub in a small park. The music was really pumping out of there, but the bright lights, noise and people laughing just made us feel a bit depressed, I guess. It seemed like forever till we would be able to walk in there, order a beer, lean on the bar and talk, and then get into our cars with some good-looking girl and drive to wherever we wanted and do whatever we wanted.

  “This is boring,” said one of the girls, Ebony. She wasn’t bad-looking—great, in fact, from the neck down—but she had such a snooty look on her face that it turned you off.

  “Well, what do you want to do?” said Ross. Things were different when girls were around. Everyone acted like tossers and said dumb things, crude things, bragged about themselves—anything to get attention.

  “I feel like going to a party, don’t you, Amanda?” Ebony’s friend was nicer than her but shy. She nodded eagerly, and they both turned expectantly to Ross.

  “I don’t know about any parties anywhere, but why don’t we get someone to buy us a few bottles, and we’ll go down the beach and see what pops ups.” The girls squealed with laughter, “Let’s go!” and ran off, doing that weird run girls do when they’re wearing tight skirts and high heels—kind of like their knees are hinged to kick out sideways instead of backwards.

  Ross muttered, “You guys go ahead. I’ll try and get some booze.” The others pulled out a few notes between them and handed them to him.

  “I’ll stay with you,” I said quickly as everyone else took off after the girls.

  “Got any money?”

  “Sure. I got paid yesterday.”

  “Don’t spend it all on beer.” He stepped towards me and lowered his voice even though the racket from the hotel was drowning out anything anyone else might hear. “Toby’s got a stash.”

  “Great. I like it better than beer anyway.” We stood for a few minutes, scanning the people flowing in and out of the doors to the bar, and then Ross saw someone he knew. He jogged forward and grabbed a tall, skinny guy in a checked shirt and black jeans
by the arm. They talked for a few seconds, and then Ross handed him something from his back pocket—maybe cash, maybe weed. Anyway, the tall guy disappeared down the side street to the bottle shop at the back and then walked across to the darkness of the park with a slab of beer. He went behind the toilet block, and when he came back out, he was minus the slab. We walked casually over to the toilet block, and Ross picked up the beer up and tucked it under his arm.

  Five minutes later, we were sitting between sand dunes not far from the water and giving out the cans of beer. We lit a small fire and sat in a circle around it, silent apart from the giggling girls who seemed to spill more of their beer than they drank. I didn’t like the taste much, so I stayed with the one can while the rest of the boys kept on drinking. The silence didn’t last for long as the alcohol started working, and before long, Ross and Brian had moved in on the girls.

  A few minutes later, they got up to ‘go for a walk’, and the rest of us sat there, laughing and messing around but with envy clear on everyone’s face. Not mine, though. I had the thought of Karol to keep me happy.

  When the talk lulled, I touched Toby’s arm. “Got some?”

  “Yep,” he said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a packet of weed and some papers. I handed him the money, and he took it and turned back to the other boys. I rolled the paper carefully around the dry weed and licked the edge to stick it down. I smiled to myself when I remembered the time Toby had thought he could charge us more by doing all the rolling beforehand and selling them ready-made, but we’d all said, “Yuck! We don’t want to smoke your spit,” so he sadly went back to selling his little packs. The fire died right down to a dull glow, mirrored in miniature by the pinpoints of light in the darkness where each of us lay smoking. I threw my towel over me and drifted off.

  Later—who knows when—Toby loomed beside me and sat down. “Want something a bit stronger?”