Ready when you are, p.4
Ready When You Are, page 4
When she pulls away, she wipes away her tears. I’m puzzled for a moment, then I understand: She cares. I can see it. I can feel it.
“Guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” I say and smile.
She smiles back. “Not right now, anyway.”
I stand and sniffle the tears away before they can escape. My mouth is dry and my face feels hot. My nose is runny, so I let my sleeves down and wipe it all away.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. All good.”
I leave her house and stop for a moment on the road. A raindrop falls on my forehead. It starts to sprinkle down. The clouds look almost purple as nighttime falls, and the lone streetlight of the Mish ignites near the community center. I need a drink.
Passing my house, I can hear the kids inside, shouting and playing without a care in the world. I just keep walking. My feet are so sore, so I kick off my shoes. I leave them in the gutter as I pass some of the dogs that laze on the side of the road.
I know Kalyn and Jarny have already gone to the camping ground. I keep walking, pull off my socks, and leave them on the road too. I have more at home. I loosen the buttons of my shirt and let the breeze flow through me. The tears threaten to come again, but I breathe them down.
I walk down the hill. The bush looks so dark and endless, like it could swallow me into its belly and I would never be seen again. Maybe I want that. Maybe that would make me feel all right again, to just be gone forever so I can’t disappoint anyone anymore.
I find the pathway and start along the dirt. The fires and lights of the campsites bleed through the black trees, and music is playing from Troy’s. I walk towards the fairy lights, following the music.
Jarny’s laughing. He’s loud and wheezy as always, but it actually feels good to hear his laughter. He’s probably laughing at his own joke, to be honest.
I arrive at Troy’s camp and see Jarny talking to a white girl. They’ve set up a circle of camping chairs, which surrounds the fire in the fire pit. Troy spots me as he drops a handful of sticks onto the flames.
“Jacko, mate, glad you could make it!”
Jacko. No one has ever called me that. Ever.
I plant my ass on a chair next to Kalyn. He takes a beer from the case at his feet and hands it to me. I pour most of it down my throat in one go.
“You all right?” he asks.
“Yeah. All good.”
Jasmine comes over. She looks as if she’s aged ten years since last Christmas, even though she’s about a year younger than me. She’s wearing makeup, and I think she has fake eyelashes on.
“Hey,” she says.
I stand to hug her. “Hey. Long time, no see.”
“I reckon! I’ve missed you boys.”
“Have you, now?”
She goes back to her seat and I scan the rest of the chairs. The twins, Matt and Andy, are here. They’re identical, and I used to have the hardest time telling them apart, till Matt grew somewhat taller and got a much shorter haircut. They offer me a wave, and I down the rest of my beer. It tastes like shit, but I drink it anyway.
“Grab us another one,” I say, holding out my hand. Kalyn passes me another bottle. I open it and take a swig, but then decide to pace myself. I’m feeling a bit clearer now.
I see there are two new girls. They sit together, and while one of them was talking to Jarny when I arrived, they are now whispering to each other. They must be sisters, because they both have brown wavy hair and pointy noses. They’re both drinking vodka cans and they look older than us, probably Troy’s age.
My thoughts turn to Tesha and my failures with her. Maybe I was just burdened by the feeling of being in a relationship, the pressure of needing to give part of myself to someone else. Maybe I could go over there, chat to one of the girls, get her to like me. I wonder if either of them would want to sleep with an Aboriginal boy.
I take another sip of beer and dwell on the thought. They’re very attractive girls. Their parents probably work office jobs and earn a lot of money. Maybe they’ve never really interacted with Aboriginal boys before. Maybe it would excite them.
I realize there’s a boy sitting beside them—one I don’t recognize. He looks kind of awkward, not talking to anyone, just listening in on the conversations happening around him. His hair is unbrushed and dangles over his ears. He holds a beer in his hand but doesn’t seem to be sipping it.
“Oi, white boy,” I say.
He turns to me, looking into my eyes. I’m an idiot because I don’t have any planned follow-up for my oi, white boy. He gives me a small wave.
“Come sit over here,” I say. He takes a seat in the empty chair beside me and I offer him a handshake. “I’m Jackson.”
“Levi,” he says. There’s a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.
“How old are you?”
“Ninety-two,” he says, and it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. “Nah, I’m sixteen. Sweet sixteen.”
“Cool,” I say, and I realize I’m a bit nervous. “I’m seventeen.”
“Cool,” he says. He takes a sip of his beer and I sip mine too.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Sydney. Well, Manly, actually.”
“How’s that?”
“It’s fine. It’s good to get away, though.”
“Yeah, it would be. I was thinking of moving to Sydney one day.”
“Why? It’s so nice here.”
“Yeah. It’s home. But I need to get out, I think. I dunno. My Aunty and little cousins are visiting from Sydney. We stayed at their place once when I was little, and I think I liked it.”
The fire crackles loudly in a pause between songs on Troy’s speakers.
“I never seen you here before,” I say.
“It’s our first time. We usually go a bit farther south, but we found this place by accident. I was talking to Matt and Andy, and they said they found it by accident as well. So, I have a theory,” he says, leaning in.
“What’s your theory?”
“Well, Matt and Andy’s dad is a bank manager, and my dad’s a bank manager, so I think this place has some sort of magical way of luring in bank managers.”
“That’s silly.” I laugh, then take another sip from my beer.
“Yeah, but a silly coincidence! Maybe I’m just drunk.”
I laugh again. He’s funny. “Aren’t white parents usually pretty strict about drinking and stuff?”
“Are black parents not?”
“Well, yeah, but I guess I’m a bit of a rebel.”
“I’m a rebel too,” he says, slouching back in his chair like a seventies gangster.
“You don’t look like a rebel.”
“Okay. Maybe I’m a lower class of rebel.” He laughs.
I finish my beer and take another. Jarny starts dancing when Biggie Smalls comes over the speakers. He raps along with Biggie and doesn’t miss a beat. Troy is egging him on, and I worry about the noise—that Levi’s parents will come over and drag him back to where everything is safe and innocent.
“Everything all right with Tesha?” Kalyn asks, and his voice seems to come out of nowhere. It surprises me to realize I forgot about Tesha. I forgot to think about how sad I was.
“Um, it’s not the best.”
Kalyn nods, and we all just keep drinking until Kalyn is up dancing on the dirt with Troy and Jasmine and Jarny and one of the new girls. Matt and Andy are sharing a joke with the other new girl.
“Levi, come dance!” Jasmine calls.
The girls drag Levi to the improvised dance floor. He sort of sways his arms and hips for a moment, then he stumbles past me to the bushes for a piss. He yelps and I turn around to see he’s fallen over backwards. I go and help him, taking hold of his shoulders, lifting him to his feet.
“You right?”
“Something moved in the bushes,” he says, rebuttoning his shorts. He’s pissed all over himself.
“You might wanna go change pants,” I say.
He looks down and sighs. “Far out,” he says. He staggers away, disappearing into the dark, presumably off to his campsite. I take a seat beside Jarny, who’s all sweaty and catching his breath. The two new girls leave after one of them nearly falls over while dancing. Jasmine’s already disappeared. Matt and Andy go back to their camp after a while too, and Troy turns the music down. He sits with me, Jarny, and Kalyn, and I feel like I’m falling asleep.
“What’re your plans for the summer?” Troy asks.
We all shrug. “Probably just relax,” Kalyn says.
Their words turn to blurs as I finish my beer. My thoughts are full of disappointment, because Levi hasn’t come back. He must have just crawled into his tent and fallen asleep. I thought he’d come back. I want him to come back. Maybe he’s lying in his tent, naked, waiting for me to come find him.
The thought surprises me. It’s a bad thought—one I shouldn’t be having. But it forces itself into life, and I don’t like how effortlessly it’s appeared. I shake my head and let it fade away.
“Grog’s got me, boys,” I say. Kalyn and Jarny stand with me, and we wave to Troy as we leave. We start off along the dirt and head up the mountain road. It’s still so warm out. I’m all sweaty.
“Tesha dumped me,” I say.
“Shit,” Jarny replies. “You all right?”
“Yeah. I guess I kinda knew it was coming.”
Kalyn just pats me on the shoulder and it’s kind of nice—kind of brotherly. We stop in front of his house, and him and Jarny head inside to keep drinking and play Xbox, but I long for my pillow. I just say I’m going home and walk away.
It’s annoying that I can see Tesha’s house from my front yard. It all looks dark. She’s probably sound asleep. Breaking up with me was probably exhausting. Maybe it was a relief for her. Maybe it is for me too.
I sneak through the front door. All the kids are asleep in front of the TV again. I step over their little bodies and switch off the TV. I climb up the stairs and I really have to concentrate.
In my bedroom, I step on Tomas’s mattress before realizing I might be stepping on him too. But he’s not on it—he’s standing at my open window, smoking a joint. The smell hits me like cooking meat in a frying pan on an empty stomach, and he suddenly looks like a very different boy from the one who’s been taking up all my space.
“Sorry,” he says. “Do you mind if I smoke in here?”
“All good,” I say, shutting the door behind me. The moonlight shines over his body—him in just his football shorts, leaning on my windowsill. I take a towel from my floor and press it against the bottom of the door.
“You want some?” he asks. I’m sleepy, but feeling less like shit sounds good. I unbutton my shirt and he hands me the joint.
“Where’d you get this?” I ask.
“Got a friend to roll a couple for me before I came here.”
I take a drag and hand it back. He takes a drag and wheezes quietly. He sounds almost like a mouse. He takes a smaller drag and hands the joint back to me.
“You got blue eyes,” he says. “I never seen a Koori with blue eyes before.”
I’m too tired to really put the effort into my words. “Yeah, got it from my dad, I guess.”
I bring the joint to my lips again. The butt wears the moisture he’s left there on the end, from his lips. I draw back and blow the smoke out. I take another draw, and then I’m high and giggling like an idiot.
“You know dealers, then?” I tease.
“I didn’t buy it.” He chuckles. “My friend gave it to me. He had to get rid of it because his family was visiting for Christmas.”
“Are you, like, a stoner or something?”
“Nah. Not really. But I heard it’s good for creativity, so … thought I’d take all the help I can get.” He takes another draw.
“Creativity? You a painter or something?”
“No, it’s part of my recovery or whatever. They want me to focus on art.”
“Who does?”
“The judge and shit.”
“Oh.”
He scrambles for his backpack near the mattress on the floor, unzips the big pocket, and pulls out a stack of papers. Handing them to me, he pulls out his phone, shining light over them. I see he has handwritten notes all over the page, like a madman, in blue pen.
“I’m part of this program for black kids, where they try to make you do artsy stuff to get out of trouble. I’m writing a graphic novel.”
“What? Like a comic book?”
“No. A graphic novel.”
“Isn’t that just, like, a long comic book?”
He’s silent for a moment, then we both chuckle. Grabbing the papers, he slides them back into his bag. Then he finishes the joint, crushes it on my windowsill, and throws the butt into the backyard. His bare feet are silent on my floor as he moves across the room.
“Your Aunty is pretty cool,” he says, lowering himself onto his mattress.
“Yeah, she’s all right.” I take off my pants and my shirt. It’s dark enough for him not to see anything. I crawl onto my bed and close my eyes. “You need another pillow or anything?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
I’m surprised at myself. I just offered him another pillow … except I don’t have another pillow to spare. I’d have had to give him mine and use nothing, or go check the storage under the stairs, which would have been a lot of effort, to go all the way down and come all the way back up again. I’m glad he said no.
Soon enough, he’s snoring. No, it’s not just a snore, it’s a train rolling along the tracks. It’s the train’s engine, breaking into pieces and chugging along regardless, with such gusto. I’m less annoyed about it though. Maybe it’s because I’m high. Good thing I’m passing out, so I won’t have time to change my mind.
I’m up before Tomas in the morning. All the kids are in the lounge room, singing along to some kids’ show I now hate more than anything. Aunty Pam greets Tomas when he arrives in the kitchen. Mum fixes him a plate of bacon and eggs.
How lovely it is that he got a nice long sleep while I had to listen to him snore all night.
He sits beside me at the table and digs into his food. Again, he chews with his mouth open, smacking and mushing the food so loudly.
“Why don’t you take Tomas and the kids down to the lake? Me and Aunty want to get some painting done,” Mum says.
“Today?”
“Yeah. Why? What plans you got?”
“I don’t have any. But I guess it wouldn’t matter if I did, eh?”
“Stop sooking around. I told you not to drink, because it turns you into a prick like your father.”
I almost laugh. I like it when Mum swears, for some reason.
“Fine. But don’t get pissy at me when someone gets bitten by a snake again,” I say.
“You’ll be right,” Aunty Pam says to Tomas. “Take your books down and get some drawing done. It’s important, remember?”
Tomas nods.
I head through the lounge room. “Get your swimmers,” I say to the boys. “We’re going to the lake.”
I’m feeling quite annoyed today. Maybe it’s the hangover. Maybe it’s Tesha dumping me. I dunno. What I do know is: I’m in a foul mood.
Tomas beats me to the shower. I just sit on my mattress until it’s my turn. I check my phone for the first time and there’s a message from Tesha.
Hey, u OK?
I ignore it. It’s been over ten minutes, and Tomas is still in the shower. I want to bang on the door, tell him to hurry the fuck up, but still I just sit there on my mattress. Then I send a text back to Tesha.
You don’t need to check up on me.
Tomas finally finishes in the shower and waltzes into my room, towel around his waist, like he owns the place. And it’s so hot and wet in the bathroom. He must have had the water on the highest temperature the whole time, scalded himself. The mirror is all foggy and the floor is slippery. The drying bathmat hangs on its post. I lay it down and turn on the shower.
When I get back to my room, Tomas is dressed in a shirt and football shorts, with flip-flops on his feet.
“I’ll meet ya downstairs,” he says. He’s carrying a sketchbook and pencils. I slam the door shut when he leaves.
I dry myself as much as I can, but I just seem to get wetter. I put on a tank top and shorts and head downstairs.
All the boys wait on the lounge with Tomas. I’m getting sick of the sight of them. Henry jumps up when I arrive.
“All right, let’s go,” I say in the most monotonous tone I can muster. Outside, the other kids of the Mish are playing on their bicycles and scooters in the street. They kick footballs and run around while the dogs laze on the road.
We all walk together in a bunch. I notice Bobby still wears a Band-Aid on his ankle. Jude walks on one side of him and Henry on the other, and they remind me of me, Jarny, and Kalyn when we were younger. We were like that, always walking somewhere together.
“How far’s the lake?” Tomas asks.
“Like twenty minutes,” I say. I push ahead and listen to all of their flip-flops smack on the ground as they walk. I’m barefoot. My soles are hard enough to act as a cheap pair of shoes.
The sun is burning today. Ahead of us, near the toilet blocks, I see Tesha. She’s with a couple of her cousins. I keep my eyes forward as we pass. I hope she doesn’t look my way and see us. I hope she doesn’t call out to me or anything.
As we pass Kalyn’s house, the front door bursts open. “Where youse goin’?” He must have seen us from the window.
“The lake,” I say. I realize I’m still a little dizzy from the hangover.
“Hold up!” he shouts. He races back inside and comes out with football shorts on and a towel in his hand. “Who’s this?” he asks, pointing back at Tomas, who’s walking quietly, Aunty Pam’s sky-blue sunglasses over his eyes, sketchbook at his side.
“Oh, that’s Tomas. He’s living with Aunty Pam for a while.”
Kalyn and Tomas introduce themselves to each other. I just breathe through my annoyance at the kids racing forward and running back and shouting and laughing and teasing each other and spitting on the ground and fake farting. We reach the bottom of the hill and walk through the camping ground.
