Floundering

by Romy Ash

  But it’s new.

  Yeah.

  But why’d you get it? She looks down at me, but her face is silhouetted black by the sun.

  Sometimes things only make sense while you’re doing them. Afterwards, it’s a mystery.

  Jordy walks up. She puts her butt out in the sand. Come on, let’s get a wriggle on. She gets up, shakes her dress and sand goes all over me. I pick her butt up and put it in my pocket. Brush the sand off me.

  Goody-two-shoes, he says to me.

  What?

  The butt.

  I finger it in my pocket. It could be anything.

  What butt? I say.

  He chokes out a laugh. I smile.

  I walk up the beach and the sand is deep and difficult. I see Loretta slip her dress back on. Her arms and head popping out so it looks like she’s being born again.

  I pick up my shirt and shoes and climb back under the rail.

  Feels good, hey, she says and stretches her arms up in the air.

  Uhuh, I say.

  Jordy’s still down there on the sand.

  Loretta calls him. Jordy. Jordy.

  He looks up at us but doesn’t come.

  Jordy, she yells. Her voice doesn’t echo, it just floats on out to sea.

  My shorts are stiff with salt. I pick at them. I look at my bare feet. The supermarket floor feels cool. They are red and blistered from wearing my school shoes since forever. After the beach I just pushed my shoes deep under the seat. There’s still sand on my feet. I rub them together, try get it off. There’s a shelf with tons of thongs, all different sizes, double pluggers with white where the foot goes. I check there’s no one looking and pick my size, snap the plastic strap that’s holding the pair together and put them on my feet. I go find Loretta, scrunching my toes and feeling like the flicking sound of my thongs is echoing through the whole shop, loud. Loretta’s hair has gone ropey from the sea and there’s a ghost of white salt on her skin. Jordy’s with her. Where’d you get them?

  I shrug and grin. Nowhere.

  He’s still wearing his shoes. He stalks off up the aisles.

  What do you reckon, says Loretta, we got everything?

  I dunno, I say. She’s got a basket hooked on her arm. She heads to the checkout and I follow close behind. She turns back around and slips three Caramello Koalas into her pocket. When Jordy comes back, he’s wearing thongs.

  Copycat, I say quietly.

  Shut up.

  I push past Loretta and the lady in front. The lady looks down at me.

  Sorry, I say.

  I go and sit on Bert’s bumper out the front. I look at my thongs. Loretta comes out and throws me a koala.

  Cheer up, she says. Opens the boot. I watch her take other things out of her pockets: batteries, nut bars, razors. My koala is half melted. I start with the head and suck all the caramel out until he’s empty inside. Jordy and Loretta get in the car. I slide off the front and get in the back.

  Loretta drives down the road that hugs the beach – with a park on the beach side and shops on the other. The breeze blowing off the ocean is cooler and the sun looks ready to give it up. I don’t want to put my school shirt back on so I wind the window up. Attached to each light pole is a faded Christmas cut-out with enormous ropes of tinsel strung between. At one end of the park a stage is set up and I can see kids wearing red and white Santa hats.

  How about this? she says. She drives into a carpark. We got a huge packet of hot chips in the front. Loretta gets it in her lap.

  Look, she says. I’ll show you a trick. If you just unfold this little bit of paper at the top, look, perfect. She puts her hand in and pulls out a fat chip. The car fills with the smell of vinegar and hot oil.

  I can’t reach from here, I say.

  Well, you got to come closer, she says. She holds the packet between the two front seats and her and Jordy get their hands in there. I lean over and grab a handful and it’s like I got golden fingers.

  But I didn’t see how you unfolded it, I say with a mouthful of chip.

  I’ll show you next time, she says.

  Is there any sauce?

  For sure, she says. She gets the little plastic sauce thing and snaps it open. It sprays onto Jordy’s hand as he’s reaching in for a chip.

  Loretta, he says.

  I go to dip my chip on his arm.

  Get lost, he says and wipes the sauce off with an old scrunched up napkin he gets from the floor and chucks back there.

  I crunch a chip in my mouth and feel it turn to mush. I chew and swallow. I reach in for another and they’re going soft and sweaty in the paper. Through the window I can see kids standing up on the stage in the hats. Their mouths are wide-open, singing. They’re each holding a cup with a candle in it. None of the candles are lit – it’s not dark yet. It’s that bright blue before dark comes. The wind is blowing in so strong the voices of them kids are blown away and I can only catch a word or two coming clear and bright as if from nowhere.

  What do you reckon they’re singing? says Loretta.

  How am I supposed to know, says Jordy.

  Somebody’s a grumpy bum.

  We was supposed to have our concert, I say.

  Huh? says Loretta.

  I was gunna sing ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ and Jordy had to sing ‘Silent Night’.

  Really? says Loretta.

  Yeah, I say and look at them kids up there in their Santa hats.

  We sit in Bert looking out. As it gets darker the candles are lit one by one. Faces turn bright and beautiful in the wavery candlelight. There are people clumped up against the stage now and streaming towards it. I look out my window and there is a lady and a man right there, squeezing past. The man has folding chairs in his hands and it’s a puzzle to get them through the small space. I look up at them, and the lady looks down. She’s old, she looks like Gran. I gasp – they’ve found us so quick. I open the door to try and get out but it slams into her legs.

  She lets out a little scream and pulls her handbag tight under her arm. And it’s not Gran at all. It doesn’t even look like her one bit.

  Sorry, I say. I slam the door shut.

  Tom, Loretta turns around and hisses at me. What are you doing?

  Nothing.

  Don’t bring attention.

  I’m not.

  We watch the old couple walk away. The man still grappling with the chairs, the lady hanging on to his other arm as if for safety.

  Why does it matter, anyway? says Jordy.

  It doesn’t, she says.

  The wind blows us the music and for a moment we hear ‘Silent Night’, loud like the kids was right here with us.

  We’ll stay somewhere nice tonight, she says, by the beach. I can’t see in the dark, but I feel her give us a tight smile. Then she starts Bert and reverses out.

  She goes to drive out of town, but then slows down, does a u-turn and heads back. She doesn’t go to the beach, but to the main street that’s quiet except for a pub at each end. She stops out the front of the first.

  What are you doing? says Jordy.

  I’ll just be a minute. Wait here, says Loretta.

  You’re just going to leave us?

  Jordy, it’s not like it’s a casino. You’re not going to die. I just need a moment.

  She gets out of the car, closes her door. The light snaps off. She leans in Bert’s window and says, Be good. Walks away. She lights up when she opens the pub door, and then she’s gone.

  I need to do a wee, Jordy.

  What do you want me to do about it?

  I need to go.

  Well, do you want to follow her in?

  No.

  So, quit complaining then.

  I look around at the street. There’s no trees or bushes to quickly go in. It’s wide-open, and every now and then someone slouches by. We sit there silently for a long time. Jordy drums his hands on the dashboard.

  Shut up. You’re making it worse.

  What? With what?

&nbs
p; That noise.

  Does this make it worse?

  He starts making the sound of running water, a long shhhhhhhhh. Then he laughs. I can feel the pressure of the wee in my stomach that’s round and taut as a drum. He starts making the running water noise again.

  I’m going to piss my pants, and the whole car will stink of piss. And then you’ll be sorry.

  It’ll be worth it.

  Jordy, I whine and clench myself tight.

  Geez, he says, piss in this.

  He throws me an empty chip packet. It’s the Twisties one from the first day.

  In that?

  Yes. Jesus.

  Will it fit?

  Why don’t you find out, dipshit.

  Don’t look.

  I’m not looking, retard.

  I face the corner and undo my pants, lean over the packet. I try to breathe calmly and relax but nothing comes out. I whimper a little.

  What? says Jordy.

  Nothing, don’t turn around.

  Why would I turn around?

  I let go, and the wee feels hot as it squeezes out and streams into the bag. In the silence it makes a funny noise hitting the packet. I hold the edge of it very carefully, willing it to be big enough for all the wee. I can’t stop now that I have started. I wee until there’s just drips. I shake them into the bag, then try to do up my pants with one hand, and hold the bag full of wee with the other, which is impossible. I just hold it, the warmth coming through the packet to my skin.

  Jordy, what do I do with the bag now?

  Are you serious?

  I don’t know what to do.

  Throw it away, idiot.

  I look out at the street, and there is a bin not too far away. I try scrunch the top of the bag with one hand, open the door, slip out, keep my shorts up with my other hand. I have to shuffle old man-ish. I stumble and drop the bag. It lands on the concrete with a splat and splashes wee on my feet. I step back, try to run, remember my pants aren’t done up. Zip them up and run back to Bert.

  What happened?

  Nothing.

  I wake up to Jordy tapping me on the forehead. Wake up, he says.

  What? I can smell the wee on my feet.

  We got to go in and get her.

  But I don’t want to go in there.

  Jordy gets out. My eyes feel sticky. I try pick the edges open. Wake myself up. I need a drink of water. I’ve got desert mouth. I find my thongs under the seat. Slip them on, get out.

  I look at Bert, Should we lock it? I say.

  No, we don’t have the key, we won’t be able to get back in.

  Jordy pushes open the doors of the pub, and I walk closely behind him. I reach to hang on to his shirt, but my hand is in midair when I see Loretta. She is dancing alone in the middle of the room. She has her eyes closed and her arms out to balance herself. The dress was pretty this morning. But it looks wrong in here, too short and the strap keeps falling off one shoulder. She shrugs it back up as part of her dance. She is mouthing the words to the song. There is no dance floor, just space between the tables and a jukebox in the corner. The light from the pool table gives the room a green tinge. A line of men leans up against the bar. I get a feeling that’s nothing I have ever felt. My face reddens and I guess this must be shame, or something there isn’t a name for.

  Mum, Jordy says. She doesn’t pause in her dance, her dress floating around her legs. He says it again, Mum. The men are looking at us now, all in their line. One of them nudges another who turns his face and his beer towards us. They all look a little bit the same, not like they’re related, but that working the same jobs in the same sun has given them all the same hard faces. One of them adjusts his crotch, another laughs into his beer at us. If the floor opened up and inside the hole were poisonous snakes, I’d step into the hole and hope the ground closed over the top of me.

  Loretta, Jordy says louder.

  She opens her eyes, stops dancing. Walks over to us as if we are the only ones in the room. She puts her hands on my shoulders.

  What’s up? she says and then looks up at Jordy too.

  I can smell the booze on her breath, but I feel better with her there close. You guys want to go?

  What do you reckon? says Jordy.

  Alright, she says, like it’s nothing.

  She stands up and twirls around. Jordy steps backwards, pulling me back with him. He doesn’t open the pub door, waits for her. She stands in the middle of the room, missing something. The men at the bar holler at her but she ignores them. She walks to a table, picks up her bag and heads for the door.

  You kids shouldn’t be in here, one of the men yells.

  I look down, make sure not to look up at them. The floor is carpet, and it’s trodden down in a worn line from the door to the bar. I step away. I don’t want to be standing on their dirty path.

  Loretta leans over us and opens the door. Out, she says.

  Nice arse, I hear called from the bar and laughter dies as the door closes. Out in the street it smells of the ocean. I inhale great big breaths. Jordy’s already in the car.

  I look up at Loretta and her face is real different to when we were inside. In the pub she looked serene, her face blank. Out here she looks craggy, older than she is by a million years. She stumbles as she walks, opens the front door of Bert and falls into the seat. I get in the back.

  She’s got a cigarette clamped between her lips and she’s flicking her lighter, but it’s only sparking, no flame.

  Shit, she says, shit. Jordy leans over the gearstick, takes the lighter from her hand and just like that, makes a flame. She leans in.

  Thanks, she says. She fiddles with the bangles on her arm. Jordy throws the lighter to the floor.

  I got these for you, she says. She reaches deep within her bag and pulls out two Violet Crumbles. She throws us one each.

  I got them for you, she says as if she’s forgotten she’s already said it. She takes a long drag of her cigarette.

  We got a long way to go tonight, she says and revs Bert. Let’s hit the road, Jack, she says.

  I know she’s drunk, but I want to leave so bad I don’t care about the ad where everyone dies. We drive out of the town.

  I bite through the chocolate and let my saliva melt the honeycomb. I look out at the night and a tear surprises me, just one, slipping down my cheek. I eat the chocolate bar very slowly. Loretta is driving fast. Every now and then she loses the road and drives onto gravel, but she always swerves back. I can just hear Jordy snoring in the front.

  Loretta, I say.

  Yes.

  Are you awake?

  Well, I’m driving, aren’t I?

  Yeah.

  Well, I’m awake.

  Are we going to stop soon?

  I wanna find somewhere nice to stop, I haven’t found anywhere nice.

  It’s dark.

  Yeah, it is.

  How will you know if it’s a nice place?

  We’ll be able to smell the ocean again.

  I open the window and all I can smell is dust.

  But we’ve been driving for ages.

  I know honey bunch, but we’re on a road trip. This is what you do on a road trip. Keep talking, she says. Keep me awake.

  My mind goes empty. I can’t think of anything to say. Bugs splatter against the windscreen. I hear their bodies cracking open on the glass.

  6

  I open Bert’s door when it’s still early and grey. Out in the ocean there are tankers lining the horizon. They look like Lego boats. I slide down a rocky cliff. The water’s got a sheen to it, a pretty rainbow. When I look back at Bert I can see Jordy standing there, looking out at me. There’s a grotty boat ramp. I go look at it. It looks slippery. I climb back up the little cliff. I’m careful of shards of rock.

  Where’s Loretta? I say.

  Jordy points to the car. Loretta’s still in the driver’s seat, but half in, half out, with her head hung in her hands. I go look at her. Blonde hair hanging over her face.

  Thi
s is nice, I say.

  She looks up, looks like she’s going to get angry. But it’s like she can’t decide whether I’m being serious or not, so she doesn’t say anything. She scrapes her hair away from her face. She leans back in the seat and closes her eyes. I go stand at the edge of the little cliff, climb back down it and collect some pebbles. I throw them into the sea. They’re not flat enough to skim. They don’t make much of a splash. The water just swallows them up. Jordy comes, he starts throwing rocks too. His rocks all go further than mine, but they get swallowed up just the same. We hear Bert start and I turn quickly, my heart going, but she just beeps and I see her arm waving out the window for us to hurry up and get in.

  We drive through this new town. The highway goes right through the middle of it. It doesn’t feel like a beachside town. It’s too early for any shops to be open, but the sun is up.

  They all look the same, says Jordy. Even the Christmas decorations are the same as the last town. I look up at them hanging dull and faded from the streetlights.

  We’re nearly there, says Loretta.

  Where? says Jordy.

  It’s a surprise, says Loretta.

  Are we really nearly there? I say.

  Yep. Then she laughs, like she can’t quite believe we’ve made it. She slaps the steering wheel. Then we still drive all day. The sun chases me across the back seat, burning one arm and then the other.

  She is humming a song, every now and then singing a snatch of words, like she can’t remember the rest. There’s no radio reception, she’s humming to the beat of her fingers on the steering wheel. There’s a welcome sign to a new town. It’s pockmarked with bullet holes. The light shines through it.

  Can you feel it? says Loretta. She leans over and pokes Jordy in the stomach. In your belly there, can you feel that feeling?

  No, stop it, says Jordy. He pushes her hand away.

  She sings louder now and it’s much more obvious that she doesn’t know any of the words, at all. As we drive into the town, I don’t feel anything.

  Loretta pulls over. Wait here, she says back at us as she goes into a store. Each of the shops has Christmas greetings and decorations painted on the glass. They look like they’ve all been painted by the same person. Some are just holly, or Happy New Year, or Merry Christmas. This town has got a beach too, but it’s like the town’s ignoring the sea, turning its back towards it.