Lonesome Howl Page 7

Then Jake shines the torch into his face

  and I see him smiling, and he winks

  and rolls around laughing at his joke

  until he bumps his ankle and screams in pain.

  ‘Serves yourself right!’ I say.

  He holds his ankle

  but can’t resist saying,

  ‘It’s okay.

  I’ll get over Santa,

  eventually!’

  I threaten to hit him,

  but instead I lean over

  and kiss him on the lips

  and it’s a nice kiss.

  I blush

  and he kisses me back

  and that’s a nice kiss as well.

  Lucy: blushes

  Bloody hell.

  Where did that come from?

  I’ve never kissed anyone before.

  But, it was either hit Jake

  or kiss him.

  So I chose.

  I hope I chose right.

  It felt good too.

  Kind of warm and soft

  and I could feel the blood

  rushing around my body,

  not sure where to go,

  filling up my veins with heat.

  We let our lips linger

  for long enough to enjoy.

  I blushed

  and he kissed me back.

  Bloody hell.

  What happens now?

  EIGHT

  This is what happens

  Jake: what wolf?

  I can smell the eucalyptus

  as we kiss.

  I press my face into her long hair

  as we move together

  without speaking.

  My arms are tight

  around Lucy

  and we’re so close

  it’s almost overwhelming.

  The warmth,

  the sweet smell of her hair,

  the touch of her body inside my arms,

  the sound of our breathing.

  If I had a choice between

  a fractured ankle and

  a night in the cave with Lucy

  or

  a guarantee to find the wolf,

  I’d look at myself in the mirror

  and say,

  ‘Wolf? What wolf?’

  Lucy: for good

  This is what happens.

  One thing,

  one simple thing.

  And you know

  when it happens

  that it’s going to break

  everything that’s come before.

  I know it.

  I can tell.

  Don’t laugh at me,

  like I’m a dumb teenager

  with my first kiss.

  That’s bullshit.

  I’ve seen things

  that I knew, there and then,

  were going to get to me.

  I’ve seen bad

  thundering through our house

  and it made my stomach churn

  and every muscle in my body

  grow tense like cold wire.

  I’ve hidden under the house

  in the dirt

  like a cornered animal

  waiting for the jaws

  to snap shut.

  I was powerless to stop his rampage.

  I don’t want to feel like that anymore.

  That kiss from Jake changes everything.

  It changes everything for good.

  Jake: it doesn’t matter

  Lucy stands

  and walks into the darkness

  at the back of the cave.

  It’s so quiet I can hear her breathing.

  She says,

  ‘I lied, Jake.

  About knowing where the wolf lived.

  I’m sorry.

  I thought if there was a wolf,

  he’d live somewhere like here.

  I didn’t come looking for your wolf.’

  I’ve spent years dreaming about his lair.

  I knew he prowled Beaumont Hill

  searching for food,

  or a mate,

  but when Lucy told me of Sheldon Mountain,

  it seemed right.

  Somewhere mysterious,

  hidden from everyone.

  I wanted to find the wolf.

  To prove it to myself,

  and to Dad.

  But now, maybe it doesn’t matter.

  I’m glad Lucy’s here,

  even if she didn’t come for the wolf.

  ‘Lucy, why?’

  Lucy: the soaking

  I gently place my backpack under Jake’s heel

  to give him something to rest his ankle on.

  I lean in close to tell him a story,

  to explain . . .

  ‘One day, last year,

  I was walking home from Hopkins Bridge.

  Thunder rumbled over Beaumont Hill

  as the rain poured down.

  I was in for a soaking,

  with nowhere to hide.

  Suddenly,

  lightning struck a tree

  in the paddock right beside me.

  It split the tree in two

  as if it was kindling

  falling across the track

  with a sad creaking dive.

  I could have run;

  Peter would have,

  crying all the way home.

  ‘You know what I did?

  I walked to the paddock

  where the tree was struck.

  I lay down in the bristling wet grass

  and watched the clouds battle across the sky.

  Have you ever watched raindrops

  falling straight towards you?

  It’s like you’re lifted into the storm.

  There’s just you and the sky.

  I wasn’t scared.

  I was in the storm.

  It was freedom.

  It was worth the soaking.

  ‘I wanted to be free, Jake.’

  Jake: real

  I’m a normal teenage boy.

  I look at all the girls

  on television,

  in movies,

  in soaps,

  in magazines.

  These girls with their clean hair,

  gleaming white teeth

  and flawless skin,

  they shine like glossy varnish

  has been painted on them.

  Lucy didn’t feel like I imagined.

  She felt soft

  and firm

  at the same time

  and as we kissed

  I felt her getting warmer,

  responding to me.

  It was the most magical thing

  I’ve ever known.

  Lucy is beautiful,

  but not like those fantasy girls.

  Lucy is real.

  Jake: Lucy and me

  When Lucy held her hair back

  I leant in close

  and started kissing her again.

  Simple.

  I’m not saying much more

  about what we did.

  You don’t tell people those things.

  It’s not right, to say.

  We lay there,

  kissing,

  getting warmer,

  and everything in my past

  just disappeared:

  the farm and the long driveway,

  the chook shed and the eggs every morning,

  Mum drinking tea on the verandah,

  Patch and Spud barking,

  the magpies ringing from the trees,

  Wolli Creek bubbling over the rocks,

  Dad coming in from the paddocks, humming,

  the wolf,

  all gone.

  It was Lucy and me.

  It was like getting lost in the bush

  and being happy to wander;

  to enjoy the sounds and smells

  and to touch each tree, each shrub.

  I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense.

  It’s how I feel.r />
  It’s Lucy and me.

  Lucy: think good things

  I’m not telling anybody anything.

  Think what you like,

  why would I care?

  Jake and me

  did what we did.

  If only you could see

  the grin on my face.

  I’m glad it’s dark

  so I can smile away to myself

  like some half-crazy fool.

  And I know why Jake’s dad

  looks after his farm and his family.

  It came to me

  when Jake and me were . . .

  you know.

  It’s the place where good things happen,

  where you feel at home.

  Sacred ground, if you like.

  And, for me, that’s this cave.

  I’m not saying everything is rosy now.

  Nothing’s that easy.

  But, now I know,

  I’m normal.

  Maybe a little special.

  At least, special to someone.

  I’m not saying anything more.

  You can imagine it.

  Think good things, okay?

  Lucy: one smart old lady

  Grandma once told me

  Mum didn’t want to marry Dad,

  she had to.

  Pregnant.

  With me.

  He was some wild boy passing through.

  And because Grandpa didn‘t approve,

  they had to live in town until I was born.

  Then Grandma took pity on us

  after Grandpa died

  and made us come and live on the farm.

  Me a little baby

  and Mum learning to be a mum.

  And Dad?

  He spent all day in the yard,

  smoking and sitting around

  waiting for nothing to happen.

  Grandma ran the farm

  like she always had,

  even when Grandpa was alive.

  And like the locust plague,

  we settled on the farm

  and made it our own.

  Me and Superman grew up,

  wondering why Dad and Grandma

  didn’t talk much to each other.

  But then Grandma,

  she was always one smart old lady.

  Lucy: what do I say?

  I kneel down beside Jake

  and say what I’ve got to say,

  about parents.

  I start with slaps

  turning into the leather strap

  hard across my legs.

  I don’t stop.

  I say more than I meant to

  and less than I want,

  but enough.

  Jake doesn’t move,

  his arm around my shoulder

  as I speak in this urgent whisper

  until it’s all done.

  And then I cry.

  You won’t believe this:

  I’ve never cried in front of someone.

  Never.

  I used to think it was weakness.

  And now I’ve started, I don’t stop.

  Jake holds me gently.

  I cry years’ worth of tears

  in one night.

  Jake keeps holding me,

  whispering,

  ‘Lucy’,

  over and over.

  I feel better

  hearing Jake’s voice

  and my name.

  Jake: real pain

  What Lucy is feeling,

  that’s real pain.

  The sort that stabs and pounds

  and makes you shake with anger.

  My ankle, it’s just an injury.

  It’ll go away in a few weeks

  and I’ll probably never think of it again.

  I stroke Lucy’s hair

  and repeat her name,

  hoping my voice can ease the hurt.

  I hold her in my arms

  where she’s safe

  and I try hard not to think about tomorrow

  when she’ll have to go home

  because of me

  and my useless ankle.

  Lucy: dreams

  It seems like ages,

  but finally I fall asleep

  and dream of being far away.

  I’m on my island

  with Jake

  and we’re swimming in a clear lagoon

  and yes, there are coconuts and palm trees

  and we’re naked!

  Can you believe that?

  Swimming in warm water

  without a stitch on.

  The sand is blinding white

  under our toes

  and we can see rainbow fish.

  You can say all you like

  about me reading too many books

  and dreaming of the Trobriands –

  the islands, I mean,

  not the sex-mad girls!

  I don’t care.

  It was a good dream.

  It was a dream you should have

  when you’re sixteen years old.

  It was a dream with Jake in it.

  Jake and me.

  It was better than most dreams I’ve had.

  Jake: close by

  Lucy’s head snuggles

  into my shoulder.

  I can just see the outline of her face

  and her hair falling across my jacket.

  I don’t mind how long she sleeps.

  I’m happy to be close by her,

  for as long as she wants.

  I’ve never slept beside anyone before.

  Tonight is a first for lots of things.

  I want to hold that feeling

  as long as possible.

  Lucy rolls gently onto her side

  and puts her arm around me.

  I close my eyes,

  and all I see is her face,

  all I hear is her breath,

  all I feel is her touch.

  I go back to sleep,

  happy to be here.

  NINE

  Morning

  Lucy: nightmare

  A shout!

  I wake in panic.

  Did I hear a cry from the forest?

  I crawl to the entrance

  and listen –

  a faint breeze shivers the leaves.

  The mist is clearing.

  Somebody, something is out there,

  maybe staring back at me,

  watching, waiting.

  Jake’s steady breathing

  comes from the dark.

  Do I answer?

  If I call out I’ll scare Jake.

  Was it a nightmare?

  What if it’s him, hunting for me?

  Dad blundering about in the bush,

  getting angrier with every stumble.

  I peer into the murky darkness,

  wanting to shout,

  ‘You can’t find me.

  You can’t touch me.

  You can’t hurt me anymore.’

  He’s a menace,

  a shadow slouching behind me today

  when I hurry back to Jake’s farm

  to get help.

  But I won’t let him find me.

  I hope he gets lost in the dense woods

  and never makes his way out.

  Let him feel small.

  Let him know what it’s like to be scared.

  Lucy: the muffled sound

  A muffled sound rises from the valley

  and a rush of wind shakes the trees.

  A branch snaps.

  Someone is out there,

  moving below me.

  I stare into the gloom

  and see a flash in the distance.

  Torchlight!

  He’s out there, searching for me.

  What if he finds this cave?

  Jake and me?

  I crawl back inside,

  my nightmare becoming real.

  Getting closer.

  No!
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  I shut my eyes tight

  against the forest

  and its invader.

  I wrap my arms around Jake,

  gently over his sleeping body.

  He won’t find me with Jake.

  I shudder at the thought of what he’d do.

  He can’t see us together.

  I whisper,

  ‘I’m leaving to get help.

  You sleep. I’ll be back with your dad.’

  Jake grunts, half asleep.

  I won’t let him find me here.

  I’ll face him alone,

  if I have to.

  Lucy: the shadows

  I leave Jake with the food and water,

  move slowly to the entrance

  and step out into the first hint of morning.

  I inch down the track, carefully,

  remembering Jake’s fall,

  yesterday.

  So long ago.

  At the bottom of the hill,

  I take a deep breath

  and plunge into the forest,

  ready for anything.

  I pick up a fallen branch

  as thick as my arm.

  I need something to hold,

  to give me courage.

  A walking stick, I tell myself.

  I follow the track

  slowly picking my way through the undergrowth.

  Every step I take is closer to him,

  standing there, flashing his torch,

  and grinning.

  Smug because he’s got me.

  I grip the branch and stop.

  He won’t find me.

  I’m smarter than he is.

  There’s a way to outwit him.

  I know he’ll keep to the track.

  I’m sure of it.

  He’ll be too scared of getting lost in the bush

  and lumbering about for ages.

  It’s simple.

  I won’t take the track.

  I’ll do what every animal does.

  There’s safety in the bush.

  If I keep the first glow of the sun in front of me,

  slightly to my right,

  I’ll be heading towards home.

  I push into the forest

  that gives me cover

  and a chance to escape.