Lucy sends a crying face.
I stare at the screen for a moment, then throw my phone on my bedside table. It clatters to the floor and I pick it up and put it next to the vase of daisies. They have been wilted, dead, for over a month. Paula used to put fresh flowers from the garden in my room each week, their perfume wafting around my room each time the breeze blew in through the window. I miss them. I miss the old Paula. I really am happy for her, and excited to have my first cousin, but I do miss the Paula who only had eyes for me.
I squeeze close to Bella and wrap my body around hers. She twists to lick my face and I purse my lips. I don’t want to cry. No. I won’t give up so easily. I pull away from Bella and pick up my phone.
He answers on the first ring.
‘Dad?’ My voice is already faltering.
‘What’s wrong?’ I can hear his concern.
‘I really want to go to the conference, but Paula and Dave won’t let me. They don’t want me staying alone in a hotel.’
‘Well, now that I think about, they’re not wrong. Geez, I still need some practice at this, don’t I?’
‘You’re okay,’ I reassure him, although it is kind of odd that he didn’t even ask me where I was planning to stay.
‘I’m so sorry I can’t take you.’
‘I’m not upset with you. I just don’t know what to do ... I feel like I’m going to miss my one chance to be a part of this amazing group and meet Stella in real life. What if I never have this chance again?’
Always the good listener, he waits until I finish my monologue of self-pity and run out of steam before speaking.
‘What if you go with a friend? What about Lucy?’
‘She’s busy this weekend; it’s Malcolm’s birthday. Anyway, Paula and Dave have already said no.’
‘Want me to talk to them?’
I know I’m walking a fine line here bringing Dad into my aunt and uncle’s parenting decisions, but this is an emergency. I run back to the living room and find Paula lying back on the couch and Dave opening tea bags, kettle whistling nearby. I bypass Paula and give the phone straight to Dave. I cross my fingers and toes, while he speaks to my dad.
After a few minutes, Dave grunts a few times then hangs up with, ‘We’ll take it from here, mate.’
That doesn’t sound good.
He hands me back my phone, finishes making tea and returns to Paula. I stand in the kitchen doorway and watch as they converse, every fibre of my being praying that they will let me go.
Finally, Paula turns to me. ‘If you go together with Lucy, it should be okay.’
My heart skips a beat. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes.’
I race back to my room, a seed of hope growing in my chest.
Lucy? I message. You there?
She replies immediately. I know.
U know ... what?
That u want to ask me to come with u.
I stare at the phone in disbelief. R u mind reading?
It’s pretty obvious.
Sorry. I know u can’t. Now I feel bad. I should have respected her plans with Malcolm and not thought of pushing my own agenda. Clutching my phone, I throw myself back on my bed next to Bella. I feel like the earth’s opened up and my bed’s fallen through. I’m in a land, dry and desolate. The sand dunes of the Sahara.
After a minute, my phone beeps. I just spoke to Malcolm.
Why?
To see if he wants to ... Lucy stops writing. I’ve totally lost track of what’s happening. I’ll call u in five minutes.
I put down my phone, carefully this time, then open my laptop and check our video again to distract myself. The numbers are even more unbelievable than before, not only on YouTube, but Facebook too. I scroll through tens of comments, through the onslaught of anger, raw emotion and demands for justice. There are comments in obvious breach of our policy; I’ll need to delete them and block the users. These people don’t know who the perpetrator is, but the anonymity doesn’t seem to matter to them. I check our other videos on live exports and poachers and each has views not in the usual single digits but in the hundreds, and the comments are mostly complimentary. Even our crustacean video is finally getting the attention I knew it deserved.
My phone rings and I dive to answer it.
‘Sky,’ Lucy says. ‘It’s all sorted.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Malcolm and I will come to Melbourne with you.’
I take the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a moment like it’s speaking a foreign language. ‘Lucy!’ I squeal into the receiver. ‘That is so amazing, I can’t believe it! You’re the best!’ Then I sigh. ‘But will your parents let you stay in a hotel with Malcolm? Paula went nuts at the thought of me and Oliver alone in a hotel room.’
‘Malcolm has a cousin in Melbourne, so he can stay there Saturday night. Then you and I can book into a hotel together; my dad knows a good one right near the centre of town. And on Action Day—’
‘Activist Day ...’
‘—I’ll go with Malcolm to this earth science museum I went to once with my parents. He’ll love that way more than the picnic I was planning for his birthday anyway. They have a section on fossils and minerals and some giant crystals.’
‘This is unbelievable,’ I say as I jump off my bed and start pulling clothes out of my closet. ‘Lucy, you’re the best, you know that? The best!’
She laughs. ‘I know.’
‘Now I have to start packing so—’
‘Sky, wait. You know there’s no bus tonight.’
‘What? But I thought you said—’
‘Sometimes, I swear. Did you even look at the timetable?’ She huffs dramatically. ‘But don’t worry, the express leaves early tomorrow morning. We’ll make it there by evening.’
We make a plan to meet at the bus stop, then I hang up. But before I start packing, there’s something I need to do.
When I walk into the lounge room, Paula and Dave are still on the couch. They’re holding hands like lovebirds, deep in conversation. They look up at me in unison and Paula wipes the bottom lid of her eye. I must have really upset her with that comment about being busy with the baby.
I stand awkwardly in front of them. ‘Lucy said she can go with me, so that’s okay, right? I can go?’
Dave looks at Paula and back to me. ‘You’ll keep your phone on at all times and message us every step of the way?’
I nod.
Paula adds, ‘And I want you to turn on that phone thingy, you know ... That one you can use to find people if they’re lost ...’
‘I’ll download it immediately. Thank you, Dave. Thank you Paula.’
‘Promise?’ Paula asks.
‘Promise.’ And I mean it.
‘And I’m calling Lucy’s mum to make sure she’s on board with all this. Not that I don’t trust you ...’
‘Sure.’
‘... I just want to protect you. Okay, sweetie?’ Paula’s eyes are still damp. She looks sad, worried, and it’s my fault, all because she cares about me, loves me. Suddenly, my heart fills with appreciation. She didn’t deserve my attitude.
I lean down and kiss her on the cheek. ‘I know you do. Really, I am sorry about before. I was rude.’
‘That means a lot to me. Thank you, Sky.’
Dave gives me an appreciative pat on the back and I return to my room. I consider leaving Oliver a voice message with the news, but he never checks his voicemail, so I don’t bother. I’m in the clouds with excitement and can’t help but do a little happy dance. Oliver and I will be together in Melbourne, and attending the most important event of the year. We can revel in the success of Keep Kind and I’ll get to meet Stella, the person I’ve admired for so long.
I continue grabbing clothes, the only clean ones in my cupboard, and stuffing them into my bag.
I’m ready.
Chapter 11
The doors to the bus open.
‘Let me give you a hand.’ Dave moves to pick
up my green duffel bag by my feet.
‘I got it, bud.’ Dad swoops in and grabs it first, then swings it onto his shoulder and carries it onto the bus. Through the window I see him reach up and place it into the overheard space.
I have a veritable going-away party at the bus stop and it’s not even seven in the morning. Even Diana’s here. She’s given me an envelope of money to pass onto Oliver along with strict instructions for him to go to the ballet store for Sabine. The cutest tutus just can’t be found in West Creek, and she’s been pleading for a new one.
My phone buzzes with a message from Lucy. Nearly there. Don’t leave without us!
Plenty of time, I write back. The bus isn’t due to leave for another twenty minutes and the driver’s disappeared for a cigarette.
‘Getting old there, bud?’ Diana quips as Dad rubs his upper right arm. ‘There’s a gym membership deal going at the RSL.’
‘No need; I’m strong as a buffalo.’ Dad poses Popeye-style, which makes her laugh.
I cringe. There’s no world in which Oliver can become my stepbrother.
Dave gestures me to the side and takes out his wallet. ‘Sky, if you need some extra cash, for emergencies ...’ He takes out a fifty-dollar note.
‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘Dad gave me some already.’
Dave frowns at Dad, who’s still chatting to Diana. ‘Take it anyway, just in case.’
I thank him and tuck the fifty dollars into my wallet. I’ll make sure to spend it on groceries for my aunt and uncle after the trip.
Lucy and Malcom appear and we all get on the bus together. They sit in two seats on the left and I’m on the right, my daytime backpack filling the empty space next to me. There are only a few other people on the bus.
It’s hard to talk to Lucy from my seat—with Malcolm sitting between us, I can hardly even see her—but I do try a few times. There’s no word about the Russia or Mexico job and I ask her about other leads for Mark, then about what’s happening with her Instagram. She leans forward and tells me she now has orders for prints of her bird illustrations trickling in regularly. Then Malcolm shows her some new geological discovery on his phone, so I leave them to it.
I try Oliver again. At least his phone rings this time, which means he must have plugged it in at his father’s house when he got there last night, but there’s no answer. I guess he’s still asleep.
I pass a good hour deleting vicious comments from our Keep Kind channel and Facebook page and blocking the trolls, troll-feeders and repeat offenders. Then I lean my head on the window and watch the endless burnt summer plains. Cattle feed on the brittle grasses, their hoofs kicking up the bone-dry soil. I think of the poem by Dorothea Mackellar that we just read in English class about Australia’s ‘wide brown land’. My eyes flick to the cloudless horizon; it fits well with her description: our ‘pitiless blue sky’.
The view changes from paddocks to swaths of concrete. A single traffic light. Green, manicured lawns and half-acre lots. We pass through a small town and then it’s back to cattle country.
Images of Pete and the joey play on repeat through my mind. The thought of it is almost more than I can bear. My heart is broken for that little creature.
I wake to my phone vibrating on my lap. Oliver is finally calling me back.
‘Hey.’ His voice is bright. ‘We nailed it!’
I smile, happy he’s happy. ‘I know, viral as viral can be.’
‘I knew it. I just knew it. Lucky we didn’t delete our channel!’
I roll my eyes, thinking about how down he’s been about the whole thing. ‘So what you doing this morning?’
‘Brunch with my dad,’ his voice lowers, ‘and his new girlfriend.’
‘Oh really? Is she nice?’
‘She’s okay. Young, though.’
‘So, want to hear some news?’ My heart beats faster; I’m excited to tell him.
‘What is it?’ he asks.
‘I’m on my way. With Lucy and Malcolm too.’
‘On your way?’
‘To Melbourne! We’re on the bus now and will be there at about seven tonight.’ I wait to hear his reaction.
‘You’re kidding!’ There’s enthusiasm in his voice. ‘That’s awesome.’
I beam. ‘So, can you come to Activist Day tomorrow? Stella sent us both free tickets.’
‘Hold on.’ I hold my breath as I hear Oliver mumbling something to his father. He returns to the phone. ‘Definitely. And how about tonight we go for dinner somewhere?’
‘For sure.’ I can’t wait to hug him.
‘I’ll book a table for us and Lucy and Malcolm. Double date. It’ll be fun.’
Ah. He’s mine again. I can’t stop smiling for the remainder of the drive.
The rest of the trip flies by with music, books and daydreaming of kissing Oliver.
We make a toilet-stop and then it’s straight through to the big city. Country roads become highways and brown grass turns to green trees. Slowly the light fades and the driver turns on the headlights, and by the time we reached the outskirts of Melbourne, my bottom’s numb from sitting.
The city first comes into view from my side of the bus, so Lucy and Malcolm squish together in the seat beside me. We drink in the energy. It’s already dark when beautiful glass skyscrapers fill the skyline, their glowing lights reflected on the broad Yarra River. It’s like I’m parched from forty years in the desert; how I’ve missed being in an urban metropolis, seeing the swarms of people and the brightly lit shops, their windows gleaming and beautifully designed—unlike West Creek’s DIY storefronts. We stop at a busy intersection, and in the buzz of early evening, men in striped ties and women sporting pants suits wait for the light to change while talking on or checking their phones. One woman stops to fish for change in her wallet, her hair up-styled into a flawless ponytail. She takes out her earphones and smiles at the homeless person who passes her a Big Issue magazine. He has a scruffy dog by his feet. It makes me feel like I’m back in Sydney, walking home from school to our apartment. I think of Mum with a stab of longing.
When we arrive at the bus depot, Malcolm takes a taxi to his cousin’s while Lucy and I share a taxi to our hotel, our noses still pressed against the window like kindergarten girls. We’ll shower and meet Malcolm and Oliver soon at the restaurant.
We see a busker playing a double base in a laneway lined with streetlamps straight out of Paris. A small crowd claps and cheers for more.
People spill from small bars dressed in elegant dresses and tailored jackets. I open my window to hear live music pumping from an underground venue, its name sprayed onto the wall like art.
The taxi pulls up outside our hotel and the driver helps us with our bags. Inside is a fancy lobby with abstract art on the walls. The receptionist gives us two digital keys, one which we enter into a port on the wall in our room that makes all the lights turn on. There’s a sign in the bathroom that we should re-use our towels to save water. Go Melbourne—Mum would be proud of them.
Lucy and I have twin beds, white sheets stretched taught and two fluffy pillows each. If we were younger there’d definitely be a pillow fight. A big painting of a red square hangs on the wall, colour dripping down like the artist splashed it on as an afterthought.
I take a selfie and send it to Paula so she knows I’m here safe and sound, then I flop on top of my duvet. Lucy opens the mini bar, but the prices are insane so we agree we can only afford one single item. Chips it is.
We flick through the TV channels for a while, then it’s time to get ready to go to the restaurant. Lucy showers first and then me.
Half an hour later, I’m hugging Oliver outside the restaurant, while Lucy and Malcolm go inside to find our table. It’s so good to see him. He’s dressed up more than I’m used to, in a black cotton shirt buttoned up to the top. He looks extra handsome.
We’re both smiling as we kiss, lingering. My nervous belly relaxes, shoulders dropping, and all tension from the last few months seeps away as I wrap my a
rms around his neck; I could stay pressed against his chest forever. I can feel his chest rising and his heart beating.
We step apart and he takes my hand as we join Lucy and Malcom in the restaurant.
Before we sit down, Lucy needs the loo. I go with her as there’s something I want to talk to her about in private. She had whispered to me in the taxi that she and Malcolm are planning to get another room in our hotel tonight; they’ve decided to do it. I was so taken aback that all I could do was nod. It’s made me think of what’s right for me. If this is something I still want with Oliver.
Following the signs to the bathroom, we make our way past the bar, a swell of chatter and laughter rising over the music. Hundreds of small plants create a textured wall, their lush green leaves glowing from inside, backlit with spotlights. I can barely see as I push the bathroom door open as the walls are painted black and dim lights point upwards from the floor making me squint. A girl bumps into me on her way out and apologises. She looks so stylish, with high-waisted pants and a flouncy cropped shirt. I look down at my T-shirt.
‘So, are you sure this is what you want?’ I ask as I join Lucy in the queue at the far wall.
‘Sure as I’ll ever be.’
‘But, if you’re moving overseas, aren’t you worried he will ... you know, want to move on afterwards because he knows you’ll be gone?’
Lucy takes her ponytail out and ruffles her hair. It’s layered and a long fringe falls over her forehead. She pushes it to the side. ‘Either way, I’m sure.’
‘What if you regret it?’
‘No room for regrets,’ Lucy says. ‘I’ve never regretted anything in my life. What’s the point?’
Huh. I think about my own life. I do have regrets. Like fleeing from Dad in the freezing Alaska night. Being so horrible to Paula and Dave when I first arrived. Not telling them I was vegan and ending up only torturing myself. Trying to fit in with Marissa while neglecting Lucy, who was always there for me. And I can’t forget the whole thing with Jaxon. I don’t regret being his friend, but I certainly should have told Oliver about him.
Lucy pushes her glasses up her nose. ‘He loves me, and I love him back. Whatever happens next happens.’
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