Bone Song (8 page)

I couldn’t get to sleep for ages last night. Goody’s words kept spinning around in my brain, and I kept trying to imagine what it’s been like for them. Stupid, really. I can only go by movies I’ve seen or stuff on TV – how real is that?

This morning I feel so grumpy and tired that I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to pull the covers over my head and stay here for the whole day. Then I remember that I asked Goody to go to Hillcrest with me so I drag myself into the shower and turn the water on hot then cold a few times until I feel reasonably alert.

Since my favourite jeans are wrecked, I have to wear another pair that are too short in the legs for me. I guess I’ve grown a bit, although it’s more out than up. As soon as we get to the mall, I’ll have to buy a new pair and put them on straight away. The purple dye in my hair has almost washed out. I gaze at the jar of gel for a long time before I leave it unopened and brush my hair back off my face. In the mirror, I look almost normal apart from the rings and studs.
Normal.
I reach for the gel and scoop out a gob but I don’t put it on my hair. I keep staring in the mirror but the person in there is no help at all, so I wash the gel down the sink and head downstairs for breakfast.

I slurp coffee, wolf down blueberry pancakes and wonder when Goody’s going to call. I can’t call her. For sure, they’ll have an unlisted number. I check my phone is fully charged and working.

‘Your mother’s going to be down in a minute. She says she’s taking you shopping.’ Nancy folds the dishcloth into a tiny, fat square.

I feel a sharp pain in my stomach and rub the spot. It’s not indigestion. ‘We’ve been through this before. I buy my own clothes. Too bad if she hates black.’

‘She’s not buying those kinds of clothes.’

I know Nancy will always be on my side, but sometimes Mother puts her in a position where she has to be a tattletale and she hates it. I hate it too. I don’t see why Mother always has to be manipulating people.

Speak of the devil.

‘Deborah, we’re going shopping this morning. Are you ready?’ Mother stands in the doorway, dressed in yellow. Even her earrings are yellow.

‘Shopping for what?’ I try to keep calm but I feel like I’m being forced backwards into a dark corner.

‘New uniforms for Barton. Since you burned all your old ones, we’ll have to
completely outfit you again.’ She smiles her iron lady smile that says ‘Don’t you dare argue with me,’ but she doesn’t know that things have changed for me. I’m not even sure
how
they’ve changed; all I know is that it’s got something to do with Goody and her mum.

I keep my tone as careful and polite and determined as possible. ‘Mother, I am not going back to Barton. I told you last night that boarding school would be preferable.’

‘Don’t be silly. Barton is the best school in the state.’ Her lips have thinned until she’s almost got no mouth at all.

‘I am not going shopping for Barton uniforms.’ I stare her out, willing her to drop her eyes and give in but I should know better.

‘Fine,’ she says. ‘You are grounded for the day then. I shall buy them for you and if they are the wrong size, that will be your misfortune. Nancy, please make sure that Deborah does not leave the house.’

How dare she make Nancy responsible? If I go out, she’ll take it out on Nancy, and the way Mother is at the moment, she could even fire her. God, I hate her!

While I’m sitting at the table planning my mother’s gruesome death, the sound of her car driving away drifts in through the open window. Maybe she’ll have an accident and I won’t have to do anything.

‘I’m nobody’s gaoler,’ Nancy grumbles. ‘That woman asks too much.’

What am I going to tell Goody? Maybe she doesn’t want to go with me anyway.

‘When my friend calls, I guess I have to tell her I can’t go to the mall. Am I allowed to receive one phone call?’

Nancy grins at me. ‘Only one from your lawyer.’

I go back upstairs, check my phone again and pace up and down. When the stupid phone trills, I grab it so fast I drop it. When
I finally answer, Goody sounds nervous.

‘Er, hi. Um, do you still want to go to Hillcrest?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ I say. ‘I just… er, don’t you?’ I knew it. She doesn’t really want to go, she’s trying to find a way to say no. ‘It’s OK, you don’t have to, I know you’re worried about going out and stuff…’ Then I remember that I can’t go anyway so what am I talking about?

‘It’s not that. It’s Mum.’ She breathes into the phone. ‘She wants to take us. In our car. It’s just been fixed and… she says she’ll come and pick you up.’ Another pause. ‘It’s a pretty old car.’

Oh. Goody thinks I won’t want to go now because I don’t want to be seen in an old bomb. I look around my
expensively-decorated
bedroom, at my thick carpet and velvet curtains. ‘No, tell your mum that’s great. I’d love to be picked up. I get really sick of catching buses everywhere.’

‘I’m sorry, it’s not that she’s trying to spy on us or anything.’

‘Course not. Listen, I’ll give you my address and directions. I’ll wait down the end of my street, if you like.’ Too late, I realise that sounds like I don’t want to be seen getting into her car, but it’s easier than trying to explain why I’m grounded and have to sneak out. I give her the details, we agree on a time and I hang up.

I trudge downstairs. I’m going to get Nancy into a heap of trouble and she’s not going to be happy.

She’s putting a load of laundry into the washer. ‘You got any clothes you haven’t put down the chute?’ she asks.

‘No, I’m fine.’ I lean against the dryer, fiddling with the stud in my nose.

‘Leave that alone before you get germs in it.’ She inspects the rings and studs, one by one. ‘Darned ugly, these are. Sure get a good rise out of your mother though.’

I try to smile. ‘I think I’m about to do something that will shoot her off a mountain.’

‘Don’t tell me, you’re planning to go out.’

‘I have to.’ I explain to her about Goody and the car thing. ‘I couldn’t say no. She would’ve thought I was being snobby.’

‘This your friend with the crazy father?’

‘No, I told you; that was just someone I heard talking.’ I look at her with my most truthful face.

‘Hmph. You just remember what I said. You watch your back
and
your front.’ She pushes buttons on the washer and heads back to the kitchen. ‘You still climb out your window?’

‘I haven’t done that for ages. Haven’t needed to.’ I used to sneak out to extra dance lessons – Mother allowed me to attend one class a week, on sufferance, but it
wasn’t enough. Grandma paid for the extra classes.

‘If you go sulk in your room and lock the door, how am I supposed to know if you’re still in there? Specially if you don’t answer the door.’ She winks. ‘Now I got to vacuum so you better get out of my way.’

I give her a big hug and she laughs. In my room, I lock the door and put the bolt on that I screwed into the frame last year when I discovered Mother had a key. I pull off my black T-shirt and find the plain white shirt that I wore the other night. I’m not taking my jewellery off but the shirt might make Goody’s mum a bit happier.

When I open my window, the ground seems a long way away. There’s a sloping roof down to where the oak tree branches grow across the guttering. The biggest branch held me OK when I was twelve but I’ve grown a bit since then. I’ve changed my boots for trainers so the roof isn’t too bad, but half-way down I move a little too fast and slip. I try to grab on to the tiles but no
luck, I slide all the way to the gutter, picking up too much speed. Just as well my legs are stuck out in front of me. I jam my feet into the gutter and it rips away from the wall. Shit! For one moment I’m about to career off the roof and down to break every bone on Mother’s rock garden, then the gutter holds. My heart bangs up against my ribs like a battering ram.

I’ve never been a chicken but it takes me several minutes to psyche myself up to reach out for the oak branch and then let my weight rest on it as I inch across. What if I fall? What if I bust something in my shoulder again? The thought of being in hospital totally freaks me out. I push away the images that spring up.
I will not go there again! I would rather die.

Then it strikes me that if I fall, I probably will die, thanks to all these brown, craggy rocks, huge cacti and other thorny things. Suits Mother though.

I giggle and wobble at the same time and fear gallops through me, making me
clutch at the branch in a panic.
Take it easy!
The branch bends a little but it holds me as I creep off the roof and onto it, then along until I reach the trunk. From there, it’s easy. The notches I sawed out are still deep enough to get a good grip. I jump down the last three feet and my legs give way. I must’ve been even more terrified than I thought.

Better get down the street before they leave without me. I jog along the sidewalk, keeping an eye out in case my mother arrives home early, and lean against the big tree on the corner, ready to hide behind it. Not that it’ll work. My mother could spot me in a blizzard.

I hear Goody’s car before I see it. Cars around here sound different, I guess, smoother and quieter. Goody’s car isn’t a roaring V8, but it’s a bit noisy and her mum grinds the gears as she comes up the rise. Their car is dark green, low to the ground, with rust along the bottoms of the doors. I wave at Goody and step onto the kerb, ready to jump in and get out of here.

Goody’s mum stops with a little jerk. When I open the rear door, she says brightly, ‘Where’s your mum? I was going to say hello.’

Goody’s shoulders hunch up. I say, ‘She’s out shopping. She’s really busy today.’

‘Oh. Never mind, another time.’

Yeah, right. Then I feel awful. It’s not her fault that I live with a dragon. ‘Do you know the way to Hillcrest from here? I can direct you the quick way, if you like.’

‘All right, that would be great.’ Goody’s mum taps her fingers on the steering wheel like she’s got a tune playing in her head and it makes me smile. ‘Melissa is buying cat food today. We’ve decided to keep Midnight.’

‘Hey, that’s great!’ I tap Goody on the shoulder. ‘Are all the fleas gone?’ Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that, although her mum seems OK.

‘Yep, I think so. We left him asleep. He tired himself out chasing a ball of paper.’ She turns and grins at me. ‘I found one tiny, weeny patch of white on him, on his tummy. It’s only about the size of a match head.’

‘So are you going to change his name to Spot?’

‘Nah, Midnight has stuck. I have to buy him a litter box too. He pooped in the bathroom.’

‘Lissy! You never told me that.’ Goody’s mum frowns.

‘It’s OK, I cleaned it up. He couldn’t help it.’

‘At least he didn’t go on the carpet.’ I’m trying to help out here, make that frown go away. I get the feeling that this is the kind of thing Goody does all the time.

I concentrate on giving Goody’s mum instructions on where to turn at what street and we’re at Hillcrest in a few minutes. She
lets us out by the main entrance. ‘I’ll pick you up at three,’ she says.

‘Mum, we can catch the bus home!’ Goody’s face is bright red.

I think about how if her mum takes me home, I might just make it back to my room before my mother guesses what I’ve done. ‘It’s OK, we’ll be here at three,’ I say, and pull Goody inside before she can argue.

‘God, I hate that,’ Goody says. ‘I just wanted a normal day with my friend, shopping and hanging out.’

‘I know, but …’ I tell her what’s happened and how I’m supposed to be in my room.

‘She grounded you for not going shopping? That’s a bit weird.’

‘The shopping is really about me going back to Barton. I’m refusing to go.’ We start walking through the centre, checking out the shop windows. I point towards a jeans shop. ‘I need new jeans. Let’s try there first.’

‘You want to stay at the Gate? That’s totally weird. Who would want to stay in the same school as Spike Donivan?’

I screw up my nose. ‘You don’t know what Barton’s like. It’s worse than being in the army. They march everywhere in pairs, and the uniform is gross. Like a nun’s habit. Anyway, as long as Mother wants me to go there, I’ll refuse. I even said I’d prefer to go to boarding school.’

‘Would you?’ Goody’s gazing in the window of the jeans shop at a pair of cream jeans. ‘Aren’t they gorgeous?’

‘They’d look great on you. Why don’t you buy them?’

‘They’re fifty dollars. I can’t afford that. My shopping is done at the Salvos.’

I grab her hand and drag her inside. ‘Come on, you can try them on at least. While you help me pick some new black ones.’

I find a pair of cream jeans in her size and when I turn around, she’s holding a pair of chocolate brown ones. ‘Here, you try these for a change,’ she says. ‘I’m sick of seeing you in black.’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ We head for the changing rooms, giggling. Goody doesn’t know it yet but I’m going to buy her the cream jeans. I’ve barely touched my pocket money for months and I’ve got about four hundred dollars in the bank. It’s going to be a great afternoon, we’re going to have
fun
.

I tried to persuade Dobie to buy the chocolate jeans but she wouldn’t. So we compromised. She bought blue ones, and then she insisted on buying me the cream ones. I felt awful, like she was just sorry for me having crap clothes, but she said it was a punishment for not letting her buy black again.

Even though we’re having a great time, I can’t help checking out the crowd all the time. I thought I was doing it sneakily but Dobie soon notices.

‘You’re always looking for him, aren’t you?’ she says.

‘I guess. It’s a habit. I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe again.’ I shiver and clutch my new jeans in their bright red bag.

She opens her mouth to say something but instead she pulls me inside the shop we’re walking past. I nearly scream but she’s laughing, holding one finger up to her mouth. My heart skitters and I glance around. We’re surrounded by
multi-coloured
glassware and shiny knives, forks and spoons spread out in fans. ‘You want to buy some cutlery now?’ I ask.

‘No, I’m avoiding
them
.’ She points outside.

I peer out, feeling the back of my neck tighten. Who is she talking about? Police? Then I see them. ‘Oh. Spike Donivan and his gang. What are they doing here?’

‘Probably shoplifting.’

There’s four of them, all dressed in homie clothes that look totally stupid on them. We wander around the shop, wasting
time choosing a table setting each while we wait to make sure Spike has gone.

‘Let’s go to the supermarket and buy cat food,’ Dobie says. ‘No way will they be in there.’

The supermarket is frantic, crying kids everywhere and mothers shoving their trolleys around like they want to kill someone. We find some cat food with pretty kitty pictures on the cans, then I pick out a yellow litter tray and a bag of recycled litter.

‘What about kitty treats?’ Dobie says, pointing to some boxes higher up. ‘I’ll buy those, my contribution.’ She reaches up quickly; a second later she’s hunched over, holding her right arm and shoulder, her face twisted in pain.

‘What’s wrong?’ I drop my cans and tray. ‘Did something fall on you? Dobie?’

‘I’m – fine.’ She forces the words out. ‘Just give – me a – minute.’

I stand next to her, wanting to touch her, rub her arm, smooth her hair, anything, but I can’t because she seems in so much pain. I don’t know what’s wrong. People push past, staring for a few seconds then moving on with stony faces. Probably think we’re druggies or something. I hate that. Finally Dobie straightens up but her face is almost dead white.

‘Sorry.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘
Sometimes
I forget I can’t do that any more. Lift my arm straight up like that. Just won’t go.’

‘Are you OK? Shall I buy some
painkillers
for you?’ I don’t know what else to suggest.

‘No, it’s fine. It’ll go away soon. I just upset it a bit. Can you carry everything?’

‘Sure.’

‘Let’s go and have a coffee then.’

Sounds good to me. I pay at the checkout and we head for the nearest café which is
up a level. We’re halfway up the escalator when I hear a voice from above.

‘Oooh, the two bad girls are out shopping!’

My fingers grip the escalator rail. This is all I need. Just when we were having a great day. Spike Donivan. He leers down at us.

‘Whatcha been buying, ladies? Witches’ potions? Or love spells? Only way you’ll ever get a guy.’ His stupid friends laugh and slap each other’s hands.

Within a few metres, they’ve surrounded us. My legs start to tremble and I try to stiffen them, stand tall.

‘Aren’t you going to talk to us?’ Spike demands. ‘Not very friendly of you, is it, boys?’

‘Nah, real stuck-up, they are,’ one of the others says.

‘Get out of our way, scuzzball,’ Dobie says.

‘You shouldn’t talk to me like that,’ Spike says, moving closer to her. Then he wags his finger in front of her nose. ‘You’ve got a big mouth.’

There’s a pounding in my chest that I thought was fear; now I feel something hot in there, something bubbling up. I move next to Dobie, shoulder to shoulder. ‘Why don’t you piss off, Spike? Before you’re sorry.’

‘Who asked you?’ He looks at me like I’m nothing.

‘You did when you got in our way.’ The rage has boiled up and I can hear my voice, coming out like a snake’s hiss. ‘Move aside –
now
.’ I stare straight at him, daring him to diss me again. Inside my head, another little panicky voice is saying
What are you doing, you idiot? He’ll cream you!

He’s not sure what to do. His friends wait for him to put me down. I want to step
forward and punch him right on his porky nose.

‘You’re blocking the escalator, boys and girls. Take it somewhere else.’ A security guard appears at Spike’s elbow and he jumps.

His face flushes.

‘Yeah, right,’ he says. ‘You’ll keep.’ He points his finger again but Dobie and I just stick our noses in the air, turn and head away from them, fast.

‘Here – coffee – this’ll do.’ Dobie takes my hand and guides me into the café. She finds us a table and sits me down. Just as well, my legs were about to give way. She orders and sits down opposite me.

‘God, you were awesome,’ she says, her eyes shining. ‘I thought you were going to plant one right in his ribs!’

‘I thought I was too.’ I laugh shakily. ‘I must’ve been crazy.’

‘He deserved it. He didn’t expect it to come from you though. Quiet, mousey Melissa. He nearly died of shock!’ She giggles and I do too, then my breath catches in my throat.

‘I don’t know what gets into me. That’s what happened when I yelled at Hornsby. It’s like I lose it altogether, go berserk. Scary.’ I grip my hands together and take a few deep breaths.

‘Just as well that guard turned up. If Spike had decided to call your bluff, I couldn’t have helped much.’ Dobie rubs her arm again.

Was it a bluff? I don’t want to think about that. ‘Is it better now? What’s wrong with it?’

‘It’s an old injury, you know, from the war.’ She tries to laugh it off but it isn’t working. The waitress arrives with our coffees. ‘Drink these first and then I’ll tell you.’ She huddles over her cup, the steam floating up around her face as she stirs in
some sugar. She looks so sad that I want to tell her it’s OK, she doesn’t need to explain, but my curiosity is too strong. I want to know, more than I want to spare her, and that makes me feel mean.