I wrap my arms around him in a hug that says it all.
Later, after Dad has returned home to get ready for a do-over of his date with Jedda, Dave and I position ourselves at the kitchen table, a basket of clean laundry between us. We fold carefully, making ivory towers of the mouse-sized onesies. Occasionally they wobble and threaten to fall.
I try for the third time to fold the one-piece into an organized shape. ‘These tiny clothes are impossible!’
‘Such little feet.’ Dave chuckles, holding up size 000 pants. ‘I can’t believe I created a miniature human. It’s mind blowing.’
Just as I’m holding up the gift from Lucy and Malcom, Paula comes into the lounge room, yawning and scratching her head. She’s out of her dress and back in her Mickey Mouse pyjamas. She nods towards the gift. ‘I think that’s my favourite.’
Lucy said Malcolm spotted it at the museum in Melbourne and insisted on buying it with his own money. It’s an outfit with a matching hat that says, I’m a rock star. The picture on the front is of a rock, of course. It couldn’t be more perfect.
‘Did you get some sleep?’ Dave asks Paula.
‘A little.’ She goes to put on the kettle. ‘Tea for three?’
A few minutes later, she places a tray of steaming cups on the table and sits down. Then she plugs in the new baby monitor and watches us fold.
‘Sky, darling.’ She blows into her cup. ‘I haven’t had a chance to say it before, but you’ve been such a big support to me. I don’t know what I would have done without you lately.’
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘Obviously I’m going to help.’
‘No, it isn’t obvious. You’re a young woman now, with a boyfriend and a big year at school. And your father is here visiting. There’s a lot going on in your life. It isn’t obvious at all.’ She looks at me intently. She doesn’t know anything about my near break-up with Oliver, let alone the cancelled Expose Them campaign. ‘Come, sit ...’ She pats the chair by her side as Dave continues folding. ‘I feel like ... I’ve been in such a pregnancy fog. I was so anxious ...’ She wipes her eyes, her voice croaky. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been absent. But I’m here now, and I can tell something’s been going on with you ever since before Melbourne. Fill me in, will you?’
I look at Dave. We know Paula’s been stressed about the baby, so we haven’t wanted to burden her with what’s been happening with Pete.
‘Please, sweetie,’ Paula says.
Dave pauses his folding, then gives me a brief nod.
‘There have been a few things ...’ I begin to talk, starting from the beginning when Dad went camping with Bruce and his mates and what happened with Pete and the joey. I tell her how Oliver and I put the video on YouTube and it went viral, then about Stella bringing us on stage at the conference. And then ...
I put my tea down. ‘Dave, there’s something I haven’t told you either. It didn’t end up happening, but I think you guys should know about it.’
Dave places the last of the onesies onto the pile and moves everything carefully into the laundry basket. Then he gives me his full attention. ‘Go on.’
I explain how Stella was writing an article about kangaroos, how Miguel runs the Expose Them page, and how they collaborate. I talk about their belief in transparency and accountability. ‘It all made sense at the time,’ I say, ‘to name Pete.’
‘Name him?’ Dave’s eyebrows shoot upwards. ‘Publicly? Sky! You can’t show his face on the footage. We talked about that; there would be serious ramifications not only for you but—’
‘Wait! We didn’t do it,’ I say. ‘Let me tell you what happened.’
I talk about how they circumvented any legal issues by focusing on Bruce and using the picture he published. I explain how I realised that it wasn’t the right thing to do and Dad helped me stop it before it went too far, but how I was worried Oliver would end our relationship before he too realised we had been wrong. By the end of the story, Dave’s jaw has slackened and Paula is visibly slumped in her seat.
‘That’s some tale,’ Dave says. ‘Can’t say life’s boring with you around.’
We all chuckle despite ourselves.
Then Paula frowns. ‘And I assume you didn’t tell me any of this, because ...?’
Dave and I respond at the same time: ‘We didn’t want to worry you.’
Paula shakes her head slowly. After a minute she turns to Dave. ‘Pete’s never been the same, has he?’
‘Nope. Since Bruce lost his job and she left, things have spiralled.’
‘Who left?’ I ask, wondering what they’re talking about. Do they know something about Pete? Dave didn’t mention a thing. Is this the reason Pete’s staying at Malcolm’s place?
‘Pete’s mum.’ Paula sips her tea, thoughtfully.
‘You know Pete’s mum?’ I ask. I thought he didn’t have one. Hang on, that doesn’t make any sense. I guess I’d never really considered it.
‘It’s a small town remember. Pete’s family is related to Malcolm’s family, you know that? And Malcolm’s mum is a hairdresser so she knows the whole town anyway. With a population this size, everyone knows everyone, by reputation at least.’
I wait for more.
Paula continues after a minute, although hesitantly. ‘Bruce is a well-known ... er ...’ She looks at Dave.
‘Loser,’ he finishes.
I recall Bruce, staggering, drunk and kicking bottles in town. And I think back further: Bruce drinking in the pub watching the cricket, shouting at Pete in the bush just after the kangaroo cruelty, pushing Pete into the car at the hospital, Pete’s shoulders moving ... He was crying.
‘Is that why Pete’s arm is in a cast?’ I ask.
‘Malcolm’s parents took him in last week. Bruce is lucky he’s not in jail after that incident. They just feel sorry for him, I guess.’ Paula sighs. ‘He’s had his share of troubles, I’ll give him that.’
Images flicker in my mind, but like the wrong puzzle pieces they’re refusing to connect. There’s the Pete I’ve seen on the bus and around town, who’s polite to the elderly, quiet and affectionate to dogs; the Pete from the video footage, kicking the baby joey; and then there’s the Pete from hospital, crying in the car, which must’ve been because of his dad; the incident. Did he push him? Hit him? It’s just horrible.
Paula continues. ‘Bruce’s family property went bankrupt because of the drought, the debt. Sheep were dying left, right and centre. They remortgaged their house, what was it ...?’
‘Three times,’ Dave says.
‘Bruce got a job as a contract fencer, but that didn’t last long. Not with work drying up as fast as the soil. Then he started drinking again. Pete’s mother left him, rightfully so, about six months ago and—’
A piercing cry reverberates around the room making us jump.
Paula rushes to the monitor to turn down the volume. ‘Hold on.’ She goes to pick up Lior. It must be time for his next feed.
Poor Pete. Life with his father must have been unbearable. I’m glad he’s safe now.
‘Did Adam know all this was happening with Stella and the campaign?’ Dave asks me, breaking into my thoughts. He looks a little bereft.
‘I only told him a few days ago, and I would have told you too,’ I reassure him, ‘but you had other things on your mind. Lior comes first. Anyway, I’m so glad I called it off—the naming and shaming.’
Dave pats me on the arm. ‘Me too. You have no idea how relieved I am.’
Chapter 22
Lucy, Malcolm and I are sitting on the roots of the fig tree. Oliver’s at the library finishing a project that was due yesterday and we’re talking about ... rocks. But it’s not as boring as I had imagined. I learn that Malcolm went to Lightening Ridge last year, where ninety-five per cent of black opals are found. Opals are Australia’s national gemstone and black opals are one of the rarest on Earth. Malcolm pulls up some images on his phone and I have to admit they’re stunning.
Just as I’m about to hand his phone ba
ck, Malcolm jumps to his feet and starts waving his arms like he’s drowning. ‘Hey! Over here!’ he shouts across the schoolyard. He starts weaving away through the groups of kids eating their lunch.
‘What’s he doing?’ I squint, trying to see who he’s headed towards. Malcolm turns and waves for Lucy and me to follow him.
‘Malcolm!’ Lucy barks. Her voice can’t be described as loud by any means. She stands and tries again. ‘Come back!’
‘Oh my God.’ I stare past Malcolm to see Pete wearing his usual hoodie, his earbuds dangling from his neck. Lucy and I stare at each other for a moment. Weeks ago, we asked Malcolm to ask Pete about kangaroo hunting. But that was way before everything went down, and Malcolm knows nothing of what happened after with the failed Expose Them campaign. Lucy, to give her credit, is a champion at keeping a secret. Surely Malcolm’s not going to ask Pete now.
We rush to catch Malcolm, but his stork-long legs are going at full speed and I’m still hobbling. Malcolm reaches Pete and pats him on the back while we’re still metres away. ‘Mate. How are you going?’
Lucy and I arrive beside him, out of breath.
‘Same as when you saw me this morning.’ Pete takes out his earbuds and looks between us with a puzzled expression. The white cast on his arm is unmarked and now greyish. What Pete must have gone through, with his mum leaving him with an angry drunk father; it’s terrible. I want to say something reassuring, but since I’m not meant to know anything about it, I hold my words back.
‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something,’ Malcolm says. ‘But I keep forgetting. Sky here is doing this video channel thing. It’s pretty good, actually ...’ Malcolm smiles at me almost endearingly. ‘She makes videos on different animal things—you know, vegan stuff and whatever—and she wanted me to ask you about kangaroos. Since you go out hunting with your dad ... used to go out hunting ...’ he corrects himself and my heart lurches, a wave of relief that the campaign didn’t happen washing through my body again. ‘... you probably know stuff that would be helpful.’ Malcolm grins at the three of us, clearly satisfied with his progress. ‘Oh, my bad. This is Sky.’ He gestures to me. ‘Sky, meet Pete. And you know,’ he leans in to kiss Lucy, ‘my beautiful girlfriend.’
‘We’ve never actually met,’ Pete says.
‘Really? Well, she rocks my world.’
Lucy grins with pun appreciation.
‘Nice to meet you both.’ Pete nods at each of us in turn, smiling politely.
It’s the first time I’ve really seen him smile, and his face is transformed. He doesn’t seem anything like the awkward person I’d expected and I can’t help but grin back, despite myself. ‘Nice to meet you too.’
Here Pete is, in the flesh, and I’m meeting him for the first time. It’s surreal after the amount I’ve thought about him, talked about him, and considered his actions and what repercussions he deserves. And then I put myself on the line for him, risking my relationship with Oliver, and destroying my friendship with Stella and Activists Unite, all because I believed, just maybe, he may not deserve the hate that would have come his way. But all this time I’ve judged him from afar; I never even bothered to talk to him, to get to know him and hear his side of the story. I still have a lot to learn.
Pete takes off his hoodie and puts his fingers through his hair. It’s black and curly, which surprises me. His eyes are clear and focused, and for the first time I notice his right eye is brown and his left one is green. Oh my God.
‘You have heterochromia?’ I hear myself saying.
Pete stares at me. ‘You’re kidding. You too? It’s super rare.’
‘I know.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Malcolm asks.
Pete points to his irises. ‘When you have different coloured eyes.’
Malcolm puts his face between us, staring first at me and then at Pete. ‘I never noticed.’
Lucy mock punches him. ‘Malcolm! How can you not notice people’s eyes? They’re the windows to the soul.’
‘Sorry, Lou.’ He kisses her again. ‘I know your eyes.’
‘So, what did you want to know about hunting?’ Pete asks me.
This is bizarre and I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry. But here goes.
‘My boyfriend, Oliver, and I have this YouTube channel called Keep Kind. We make videos on animal rights issues and we wanted to do one on kangaroos.’
‘Keep Kind,’ Pete repeats.
‘Hold on.’ Malcolm takes out his phone. ‘I’ll show you.’ He pulls up the page and shows it to Pete.
I try to imagine how this conversation would have gone if the footage of him was still there, if the campaign had gone ahead. It blows my mind. The repercussions would have reverberated through the school. What would Pete have done? Would he have survived the backlash, the haters, the trolls? Knowing what I do about his Dad, I can’t be sure he would have been able to cope with it.
I choose my next words carefully. ‘So, we were doing this video on kangaroos and the culture around hunting. You know, different perspectives on the issues; kangaroos are a pest, but they’re also our national symbol. Things like that.’
‘Right.’ Pete nods.
‘And we were wondering ...’ I stop. If I’m going to give him a chance to explain what happened, now may be my only opportunity. I remind myself that he may seem okay now, but he is still cruel, as the footage showed. ‘What’s your experience of hunting? Especially when it comes to the pouch joeys. There’s been a lot of talk about their welfare online.’
‘Joeys,’ Pete repeats, gazing into the distance. I wonder what he’s thinking. Does he feel guilty? Will he show any remorse? With everything he’s gone through with his dad, maybe he’s been taking out his anger on animals. I harden my heart a little. That doesn’t excuse it.
‘You did go out hunting, right?’ Malcolm seems suddenly unsure if he has his facts straight. ‘With your dad?’
‘I’ve only been once,’ Pete says. ‘A few weeks ago. Dad’s been wanting me to go for a year, but I wasn’t keen.’
‘Hate blood as much as me?’ Malcolm asks.
‘Something like that.’
‘How did you go?’ I ask. I can now hear my beating heart through my ears.
Pete doesn’t meet my eyes and stares off into the trees.
‘Mate?’ Malcolm’s tone has changed. ‘You okay?’
Pete wiggles his fingers through the gap in his cast. We all wait for him to reply, to talk. The seconds tick by. I turn to Lucy, who shrugs her shoulders slightly. Malcolm is staring at Pete; I’ve rarely seen him silent for so long.
‘Hunting was terrible,’ Pete finally says. ‘I guess I can tell you guys ... since I’m leaving soon. If you want to put this in your video, that’s fine.’ He looks at me. ‘Quote me, I don’t care.’
If only he knew. The irony of the situation is not lost on me.
‘Dad made me go.’ Pete mimics his father’s heavy ocker accent: ‘No more excuses.’ He even took a stupid picture of us before the hunt, boasting to all his friends.’
This isn’t what I was expecting, and I feel Lucy glance my way as Pete continues.
‘We went out. Your dad was there, Sky.’ He looks at me again. ‘Didn’t he tell you about it?’
I shrug, feigning ignorance.
‘He was taking pictures of the ’roos. I know he was a hunter, so no disrespect but ...’ He shakes his head. ‘I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to do that for fun?’
‘Do what?’ Malcolm asks.
‘Hunt.’
I think my mouth’s agape. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
Pete’s face turns pale as he tells us what happened. ‘Dad gave me a joey to kill. Teeny little thing.’ He demonstrates the size with his hands. ‘I didn’t want to do it in front of the others; he would have seen the gutting of his mother, and that’s just wrong.’
He’s using the language I’ve tried so hard to encourage my dad to adopt. He’s talking about animals not lik
e they’re not an ‘it’ but as feeling creatures. Pete’s attitude is contradicting everything I believe about him.
‘I planned to kill the little bugger by stomping on his head,’ he says with a slight cringe. ‘That’s the way “they”,’ he uses his fingers as inverted commas, ‘recommend doing it in the code. I skulled a few beers; thought that’d help me get it over and done with, but ... I just couldn’t go through with it. Instead, I pushed him into some bushes to hide him, so my dad wouldn’t see. At least I tried to. Instead, I probably injured the poor guy with my boot. I went back to the spot as soon as I could get away from the blokes, found him under a bush and wrapped him in my top. I took a car and left Dad and the group there. He didn’t even notice I was gone. I drove straight to the nearest twenty-four-hour vet hospital and the little guy was alive when I got there. I thought I’d take him over to one of the wildlife carers the next day and he’d have a chance, being bottle-fed and everything, but when I called in the morning to check up ...’ Pete pulls his hoodie back up. ‘He was dead.’
‘Shit, Pete!’ Malcolm exclaims.
I think back to the footage, Pete’s foot moving repetitively, and try to see it again in this context.
‘I felt like crap, that’s for sure,’ Pete says. ‘I’m never hunting again.’
I’m speechless. All this time, I thought Pete was one of them. And worse. How could we have got it so wrong?
‘I’m with you there, mate.’ Malcolm’s voice is gentle as he puts his hand on Pete’s back.
No one speaks for a few moments, then Lucy breaks the silence. ‘Come hang out with us next time your dad’s pressuring you. Sky and I can say we have a school project we need you and Malcolm to help with or something.’
‘Thanks.’ Pete looks touched. He glances at me again, checking my reaction. ‘But I’m heading off next week anyway.’
‘Where to?’ I ask.
‘Perth. Mum’s set up there now, with a job and a house. I’ll go live with her and finish school at TAFE.’
‘Next week? No one told me that,’ Malcolm says. ‘My parents never tell me anything, I swear.’
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