by Kate Gordon
My stomach lurches as I say it.
‘Always heading off in the wrong direction,’ Grandma T always says.
My mum could have run then. Before I was born. She could have made the choice that meant I never was.
A choice that meant I’d never have met Wally. Or, maybe, that I’d now be in the place where he is—a place of nothing.
‘She must have thought, at some point, that she wanted a baby?’ I prompt Auntie Kath.
Auntie Kath nods, her eyes shining. ‘Yes, of course, Tiger. She wanted you to live, especially after all those times when it looked like you wouldn’t. She wanted you to hold on. She wanted you to be in the world. She made the decision that she was going to have you and, while you were still inside her, she thought she could do it. She did love you, Tiger. More than the sky.’
A tear rolls down my auntie’s beautiful face, and I feel one on mine, as well. I hug her and, like always, I’m so grateful for her. I’m grateful for her kind of love. One that’s bigger than the sky, but solid, too. One that feels like home.
The doorbell rings. Rhino.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ I tell Auntie Kath.
‘Be safe,’ she says. ‘Don’t run too far away. Always come back to me.’
I let myself stop for a moment to hold her. She pulls away and looks into my eyes. Hers are shining. ‘Please never think that because your mother left, you aren’t loved. Or special. Or incredible. You are all those things to me. You are my heart, Tiger. You are my greatest adventure. Please promise me that you won’t leave me.’
‘I promise,’ I whisper, my voice shuddering, cracking. ‘I won’t ever run too far away from you. You are my home.’
Chapter Forty
We buy two tickets for the Redline bus.
Rhino offers to drive to ‘wherever’, but the bus feels important. It’s part of this story.
The Redline is full of old people, tourists and the boarder kids from our school.
And other lost people like us.
We stash our bags in the overhead racks and take our seats, halfway between the front and back.
And, finally, Rhino asks, ‘Where are we going?’
‘Launceston.’
‘Launceston,’ he repeats. ‘That’s pretty far away, Tiger.’
‘It could have been Marrakech,’ I point out. ‘Launceston is closer.’
He looks at his watch. ‘We’ll get there when the elves come out. Cool.’ He grins. ‘I would run away with you!’
‘You know there’s no bus back tonight,’ I tell him. ‘The next one isn’t until six tomorrow morning. I’ll take that one. It’ll get me back in time for school. But there’s still time for you to pike out. Go back to your house and watch Netflix or something. Go over to your girlfriend’s house and—’
‘No,’ Rhino says, firmly. ‘I’m coming on this adventure with you, Tiger. I’m just wondering where we’ll sleep tonight.’
I gesture around me as the bus pulls out onto Mount Street. ‘Under the stars ...’
‘Tiger, it’s August. In Tasmania. I’m all for adventure, but I’m just not so sure I’m up for frostbite. And you definitely can’t sing and dance in the school musical tomorrow if they have to hack your frozen legs off.’
‘Fair point.’ I shrug. ‘So we’ll find a hotel. I have plenty of money saved up. No big deal.’
‘Um ...’ Rhino’s voice cracks. ‘A hotel room?’
I dig him in the ribs with my elbow. ‘Separate beds, Rhino. Don’t worry. Separate rooms, if that would make you feel more comfortable, or if it would bother your girlfriend.’ More seriously, I ask, ‘She’ll be okay with this, won’t she? You going to Launceston with me for the night?’
Rhino nods. ‘It’s fine. And … just separate beds will be fine if ... I mean ...’ He runs his hand through his long dark hair. ‘Just whatever is fine. You’re controlling the purse strings, little Bayside Tiger. You’re in charge.’
‘Bayside Tiger? Nineties reference?’
Rhino puffs out his cheeks. ‘You’re about to break my heart by telling me you never watched Saved by the Bell, aren’t you?’
‘’Fraid so.’
‘There is absolutely no hope for you, Tiger Geeves.’
We travel in silence for a little while, until we pull up by the beach in Penguin.
The sky is beginning to turn pink already. It will be witch-cat-black by the time we get to the Gorge. But I don’t mind. Somehow, it feels more daring doing this at night-time.
Next to me, Rhino clears his throat. ‘So, Tiges. How’s tricks?’
‘Chillin’. Killin’,’ I say, quickly, turning to smile at him.
His caterpillar eyebrows bunch up. ‘Really?’
‘Truly-ruly. Why so serious, Rhino?’
‘Just doing my civic duty. Checking you’re not all … Tiger, I just feel like I should ask, you know? God, let me just care.’ His jaw tenses and when he talks again it’s through his teeth. ‘Are. You. Okay?’
Goosebumps prickle on my arms. ‘Totally fine,’ I snap. ‘I mean, my best friend—and, you know, I think the only boy I ever loved, just died. And it was my fault. Because he tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. So yeah, I’m awesome. What do you want from me?’
Rhino’s face empties. ‘Did he love you back?’
‘It felt like he did when he kissed me.’
Rhino turns away.
There’s silence from Ulverstone to Devonport.
When we stop at the Devonport terminal I can’t take it any longer. ‘Rhino, you could get off now, you know. I’m pretty sure that bus over there goes back home. I’ll pay for your ticket. You don’t have to come with me.’
Rhino continues to look out the window at the new passengers streaming from the waiting lounge towards the bus.
Finally, he turns around. ‘Why did the tiger lose at poker?’
A relieved giggle escapes. ‘I dunno, Rhino. Why did the tiger lose at poker?’
‘Because he was playing with a cheetah.’
I know now that everything is going to be okay. Rhino is staying. The adventure continues.
Chapter Forty-One
The Gorge at night-time is as frightening as it is beautiful. Everything shimmers as if it’s made of fairy dust. Every shadow looks like a monster.
It is the Otherwhere.
‘I could make the best horror movie here,’ he’s saying, walking backwards ahead of me. ‘Maybe with vampires or … or mutant potoroos!’
‘Or a really sinister serial killer lurking in the shadows ...’
Rhino stops still. ‘Okay, Tiges, that’s actually much scarier than vampires and mighty morphin’ marsupials. Thanks for that. Now I’m properly scared.’
‘I could hold your hand, if you like,’ I offer. ‘In a purely platonic, just-looking-after-a-mate-so-he-doesn’t-get-butchered kind of way.’
‘Did you have to say the word “butchered”?’ asks Rhino, shivering.
I offer him my hand, and he takes it.
A twig snaps and Rhino cowers. ‘You absolute wuss,’ I tease.
‘Lucky I have you to hold my hand,’ he says. His voice is soft. I look over at him. His eyes are searching my face.
Something in my belly twists. It’s wrong the way he’s looking at me. It’s the way Wally looked at me, in the chook shed.
And I get a sinking feeling, like I’ve overstepped some line into a place where the ground is shaky.
But he has a girlfriend. It’s okay.
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘Let’s finish this walk. I’m getting cold and hungry.’
‘But it’s so nice out here with all the potential for being butchered,’ Rhino says, as he jogs to keep up with me.
‘It is nice,’ I agree, dragon-breathing again. ‘It’s amazing. The stars. The water down there, all shimm
ery. The little animal eyes peeping out from the ferns. It’s incredible. I’m so glad we came.’
‘So am I.’
There’s still something off about Rhino’s voice. I decide to ignore it. ‘So, since we’re here, in the Tasmanian wilderness, maybe you should tell me a Tasmanian tiger joke,’ I suggest.
‘Therese—’
The sound of my name—my actual name—makes me freeze. Rhino has never called me that before. He’s never even called me Resey.
I let go of his hand. ‘Why’d you call me that?’
His eyes are all soft again.
‘You’ve gone serious again,’ I accuse.
‘Sometimes … it’s necessary,’ he says. He looks like he’s shaking. Or maybe I’m shaking.
‘I don’t believe you’re okay,’ he says, softly.
‘Rhino,’ I say, my voice lowered in warning.
‘I don’t know how you could be okay. Losing someone you … loved, like that. Losing such a close friend. I mean, if I lost you … I’m … worried about losing you, Tiger. You said he tried to tell you and you didn’t … Maybe your friends are right, Tiger. Maybe you should be talking to someone—’
‘Oh, not you too!’ I yell. ‘What the hell do you think I’m going to do?’
‘I don’t—’
I gesture at the trees. ‘Am I going to take a rope and tie it around my neck and climb up that trunk and fix the rope to a branch and jump and snap my neck?’
‘Tiger …’
‘Am I going to climb up to that bridge?’ My voice is growing louder. I’m pacing. I need to move; need to yell and get all of this out of me. ‘Am I going to leap into the water; crack my head on the rocks; bleed to death in the middle of all this?’
I’m running now. I’m a girl, in the moonlight, running towards the water. I’m a girl who wishes she could run forever, but feels like, instead, she might fall.
‘Why would I do that?’ I roar, as I run. ‘Why would I? I’m Therese Geeves. I’m perfect. I’m golden. Just because my own parents didn’t love me enough to stay; just because my best friend didn’t love me enough to stay, even after we kissed. Why the hell would I do anything?’
I’m at the water’s edge now. The cold night air enters my mouth, my throat, in gulping, jagged, icy shards. There’s not enough room in my lungs and my heart beats so fast, so fast, so fast, and it’s going to stop. A heart can’t beat that fast and not stop. A girl can’t feel like this and not stop.
‘Tiger! Stop!’
But I won’t. I won’t stop. I can’t stop. I’ve come this far and the water is so nice on my feet, my thighs, my waist. It feels cold. It feels real. I gasp, and then I cry—finally, I cry. I sob and I wail and it feels so awful, but so wonderful.
‘Tiger!’
And I fall.
I plunge beneath the water’s surface.
And everything is darkness.
And it’s so nice to just fall.
But then his arms are around me and they push the air from my lungs and I swallow so much water and it tastes of dirt and death.
And he is dragging me back to life.
We lie panting on the rocky ground of the basin.
‘Fuck, Tiger,’ he murmurs.
He moves away from me and comes back with a jacket. He wraps it around my shoulders. My arms are shivering. My skin feels blue.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks.
‘Dumb qu-question,’ I manage, around my chattering teeth.
‘You scared me.’
It’s an accusation and it’s angry.
I don’t reply; can’t reply. So Rhino continues quickly, words pouring from his mouth like a waterfall. ‘You know how you felt about Wally? Well, that’s how I feel about you, and you know how you felt when he died? Well, that’s how I’d feel if you died, and that’s absolutely devastated. So just … don’t do stuff like that, Tiger. Ever again. Just, please, be okay. Please be okay. Please.’
There is a long silence between us. All the sounds of the night in the Gorge fill it and they sound like a symphony.
And they sound … beautiful.
And this whole place is beautiful.
And for a moment, just then, as I sit, shuddering and wet beneath Rhino’s coat, I feel alive. Properly alive. And like life might be bizarrely beautiful, too.
But I am cold. And I am wet. And I am starving. And I can’t sit here any longer or I think I might freeze in this spot forever.
‘I will be okay. I—’
‘Promise. You have to promise.’
His eyes scan my face. His neck is so tight, I can see the veins pressed against the skin.
‘I promise. But –’
‘No “buts”.’
‘But,’ I say, more firmly, ‘I am bloody cold. And I am very, very hungry.’
Rhino’s face suddenly breaks into a big, beautiful grin.
‘We could go to Morty’s,’ I suggest. ‘They do kebabs there if you want one. I, on the other hand, could … murder a curry.’
To my relief, Rhino laughs. ‘You’re evil, Tiger.’
‘You ...’ I begin to walk more quickly, ‘are paying for dinner, if I beat you to the exit!’
I stand, shakily. My feet squelch when I take a step. But I need to run again. This time, though, in the right direction.
I break into a sprint.
‘You’re on!’ Rhino cries.
We race, bellowing, around the windy track towards the first basin, scaring the life out of the night creatures as we do it.
And I think: this is it.
This is life.
This is adventure.
Even though I’m soaked to the skin and will possibly have the flu tomorrow.
Even though I just completely lost the plot in the middle of the Cataract Gorge.
I am okay.
But even as I run and laugh, I know it needs to end. Not with running into a river.
With something that leads to happiness. With something that leads to life.
Chapter Forty-Two
Things feel lighter after that between Rhino and me. We go to the food hall and both change in the toilets into warm, dry clothes. Rhino orders pasta and convinces me to have a curry pie. I ring Auntie Kath to check in; he calls his parents to do the same. Later we go to our hotel suite—with separate rooms—and take huge delight in being naughty, eating four-dollar Mars Bars from the minibar. And then we watch Doctor Who before going to our separate beds.
My phone alarm wakes us the next morning at five o’clock. We’re back, grumbling, on the bus by six.
I feel utterly wrecked but happy. I’m glad I had the adventure. I’m glad I had it with Rhino.
But I’m glad even more that I’m going home.
I didn’t dream of Wally—at all—in the hotel room.
But when I close my eyes on the bus it’s still only him inside me.
‘Tell me a joke,’ I say to Rhino.
‘Too tired. Too hungry. Too, too, too,’ Rhino moans.
‘We’ll get brekkie together when we get home,’ I offer. ‘My shout.’
‘I want hotcakes,’ Rhino says, petulantly. ‘When I feel this gross, nothing else will do.’
I wrinkle my nose. ‘I was thinking heirloom tomato bruschetta, with sweetcorn and avocado cream ...’
‘Hipster,’ Rhino laughs.
‘Bogan,’ I retort.
We pull into our town. It’s where Wally lived and where he died and where I was born and where I was left. It’s my story. It’s my home.
Auntie Kath is here and Grandma T.
The bus drives along the road by the beach and I watch as a family runs along the sand with a big golden retriever. Something inside me aches a bit.
I realise that Rhino is talking to me.
‘Sorr
y, Rhino. I was miles away.’
‘Just wondering if you’re nervous about tonight?’ Rhino rakes his hand through his un-brushed, crow-feather hair, and pulls a rubber band around it. ‘The first performance?’
I think hard about his question. If he’d asked me a couple of weeks ago, I would have replied that I was ridiculously nervous. It’s my first lead role; half the school, and much of the town, will be there watching me. The footy boys will be there watching me.
And Mel and Roz and Peter and Rhino and Flo.
Wally would’ve been there.
But now?
Wally is dead and I’m dressing up in high heels, with a blonde wig, and being eaten by a green foam plant.
But … there is still something there. I still want this. I still want to be an actor. My stomach knots and I realise that I am actually a bit nervous. Maybe I’m still breathing after all.
‘It will be fine,’ is all I say to Rhino.
We’re at the terminal now. I stand and pull my bag from the overhead compartment.
I feel Rhino’s hand on my arm. ‘Hey, it means a lot to me that you wanted me there on this adventure with you.’
‘It means heaps to me that you came. And I’m sorry about freaking out at the Gorge. I was just being—’
‘Normal.’ Rhino smiles. ‘You were just being exactly how someone should be after what’s happened. It’s all good. Anything you do is all good with me.’
I don’t know what to say to that, so instead I ask, ‘How’s tricks, Rhino?’
I expect him to laugh, but he shakes his head, and walks ahead of me out of the bus. I follow him. ‘What was that about?’ I ask when I join him on the street.
‘Nothing ...’ His smile is forced. ‘I’m just chillin’ and killin’ for some breakfast, that’s all. But not McDonald’s, okay? We’ll go to The Chapel. Artisan, fair-trade, distressed kale and tampered-with goji berries it is.’
‘You won’t regret it,’ I say. ‘Stuart makes the best cold-drip coffee—’
‘As long as you don’t go Full Hipsterzilla and order the kombucha.’
‘Promise. And … you know, we could compromise. Do both. The Chapel first, then Banjo’s for breakfast pies?’