Still Waving (7 page)

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Authors: Laurene Kelly

Tags: #Young Adult Fiction, Domestic Violence, Recovery

BOOK: Still Waving
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The weather was changing. I could feel it. There was moisture in the air. I looked out to sea. On the horizon, streaks of lightning outlined the rolling clouds. There was no sound of thunder, just the loud roar of the sea as it crashed upon the shore. Whenever there was a flash, I could see the long band of smoke coming from the north. I wondered if this change would help the firefighters. If this was the big rain Ruby said was coming, it definitely would make everyone happy.

Aunt Jean came out with a tray of tea and cake.

‘The bath was fabulous. I used that new bath oil. You should try it. I feel so relaxed.'

I had to admit that Aunt Jean did look better than she'd looked earlier.'

‘Are you sure you don't want me to come with you tomorrow?' I asked tentatively. ‘I mean I'm not really doing anything.' I thought of Ruby's cousin with no visitors in hospital.

‘No. Thanks for offering, Julie. It's a really simple procedure.'

‘How long will you be in hospital?'

‘Hopefully not too long. Waiting will probably take up the most time. I'm having it done at the hospital, because that's where my doctor is. If she'd been in her surgery, I'd have had it done there. I'm sorry, I probably alarmed you when I said I was going to the hospital.' Aunt Jean faced me. ‘Do you want me to tell you about the procedure?'

‘No way. Tell me when I'm older.'

‘At your age, you're a very low-risk group. Unfortunately, I'm high risk now I'm over forty.' Aunt Jean looked pensive.

‘You're so old Aunt Jean. How can you bear it?'

‘I enjoy it,' Aunt Jean laughed.

That sounded ridiculous. Once you were that old there wasn't much to look forward to as far as I was
concerned. You'd never be a world champion surfer, that's for sure.

‘I talked to Ruby.'

‘How is she?'

‘Pretty good. It's bloody hot up there. People are going off their tree. Ruby said she'd go visit Toby.'

‘He'd like that, I think.'

‘At least he'd be able to have a swim. There'd be no water in the dams on the farm, that's for sure.'

‘Do you want to ring him some time?'

‘Maybe tomorrow night, it's too late now.' I stared at the lightning out to sea.

‘What a light show,' Aunt Jean said. ‘Better than any pyrotechnic display.'

‘The lightning is so silent.'

Aunt Jean laughed.

‘You know what I mean. It's weird not hearing thunder.'

Just as I said it, a loud rumble began and ended in a very loud thunderclap. Heavy rain drops splattered down.

‘It's going to pour,' Aunt Jean said, gathering up the tea things.

I grabbed the cushions off the seats. The rain belted down, lashing the balcony. We got inside before we were completely drenched. I shook raindrops out of my hair.

We watched the storm through the kitchen window. The sea was violently agitated. I could see whitecaps crashing at each other in the roll of the waves. What a shipwreck night, I thought.

‘Would you like a game of Scrabble?' Aunt Jean asked.

‘Okay. I'll get it.'

We set up on the coffee table in the lounge room. It felt good to be inside. The rain beat against the windows. Thunderclaps receded into the distance. The sea constantly roared.

I tried to figure out how to get the best score with my pathetic letters. I had five vowels and my highest tile was worth two points. Aunt Jean put down the word ‘nuncio' to begin. I choked. What sort of word was that? It sounded foreign.

‘It's in the dictionary,' Aunt Jean said smugly.

‘What does it mean?'

‘Look it up, if you don't believe me.'

I knew it would be in the dictionary. ‘I believe you, but what does it mean?'

‘A diplomat of the Pope.' Aunt Jean laughed and looked triumphant.

Who cared? It's a stupid word. I struggled with my letters. Mum had taught us Scrabble when we were little. It was good for our vocabulary, she'd said. Sometimes I enjoyed it. Sometimes I hated it. None of
my friends played and they'd looked at me strangely once when I'd suggested a game.

Aunt Jean won as usual. She knew more stupid words than me.

‘Aunt Jean?'

‘Yes.'

‘Do you think kids who grow up in the city and never see the stars miss out?'

‘Miss out on what?'

‘Well, you know, mythology. Like, people might say Gemini or something, but they wouldn't know where it was in the sky. Even the Southern Cross, Orion, Pleiades.'

‘I suppose you're right.'

‘I'd hate it if I didn't know the constellations and stuff. I can't see them much here, but I know they're there. I remember this song Mum used to sing.' I looked at Aunt Jean and started singing softly,

‘Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,

Never let it fade away,

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,

Save it for a rainy day.'

Aunt Jean joined in. ‘Our mother used to sing that song to your mother and I when we were children.'

‘Mum sang it to us all the time.' I felt a slight tinge of sadness, but swallowed it.

‘I'm amazed I remembered it as well as I did. It
must be years since I've thought about that song,' Aunt Jean said, staring into the distance, as if some far-away memory had just awoken.

I looked out the window. The storm was even wilder.

‘I said I'd ring Kate.' I looked at the clock. It was nine-thirty. ‘I don't think it's too late.'

‘I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Julie.' Aunt Jean kissed me on the cheek. ‘Sleep well.'

‘You too. What time are you leaving in the morning?'

‘Seven-thirty.'

‘I'll have breakfast with you. If I'm not awake, wake me. I doubt I'll be going surfing tomorrow if the weather's as wild as this.'

I dialled Kate's number. I thought no one was going to answer. I was thinking up a message for the machine when she answered. I got the usual shock at hearing a real voice.

‘Hi, it's Jules.'

‘Hi Jules, I didn't think you were going to ring.'

‘Is it too late?' I hoped it wasn't.

‘Hell no. I was watching TV. My sister had to go into work. Some crisis about something or other. What are you up to?'

‘Not much. My Aunt Jean has a lump in her breast. She's having a biopsy tomorrow.' I looked at
my nails. ‘We've just been talking and stuff. We had a game of Scrabble.'

‘Scrabble!'

‘Don't you like Scrabble?'

‘Never played. It looks boring,' Kate answered dismissively.

I decided not to respond. It wasn't worth it. How could people be so sure they didn't like something if they hadn't tried it?

‘Hope your aunt's okay.'

‘Me too.'

‘Have you heard of Rell Sunn?' Kate asked.

‘I don't think so.'

‘She was a cool Hawaiian surfer from the sixties. They called her the heart of the sea.'

‘I've never heard of her.'

‘I think she was the world's best woman surfer in a whole kind of way.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘You know, holistic. Rell Sunn was like a spirit of the ocean. She started surfing when she was four, like me.'

‘You're so lucky to have started so young.'

‘I know. Sometimes Rell would sit on a chair on her surfboard.'

We both laughed.

‘Would you try that?' I asked.

‘I have tried it but I haven't been able to do it yet. I just fall off,' Kate laughed.

‘I'd be too embarrassed to try that here.'

‘Rell even took her dog surfing.'

‘Wow.'

‘She said that the dog knew it was special if you took it surfing.'

I thought of the only dog I ever had, Jesse. I pictured her on the nose of the board, smiling at the waves.

‘I'm going to look up Rell Sunn in the library or online,' I said.

‘Rell's famous.' Kate paused. ‘Hey, you should come up to my place sometime. We could practise sitting on chairs.'

‘Have you got a dog?'

‘Yeah, it's my younger brother's. Spot.'

Spot, I couldn't believe anyone really called their dog Spot, but I didn't say anything. For all I knew, Kate could have named it.

‘Would you take Spot surfing?'

‘No. He wouldn't stand still. He's a Dalmatian. Hyperactive . You know after the movie craze, everyone had to have one. My brother got him as a birthday present, and stupidly called him Spot. It's better than Measles, I suppose.'

I laughed, partly out of relief that Kate thought it a stupid name, and because of the thought of a dog
called Measles.

‘Maybe when I get my licence and car, I could drive up.'

‘Are you getting your licence?'

‘I'm going to try. My aunt's going to give me lessons.'

‘I'm getting mine next February.'

‘Great.'

There was silence.

‘Rell Sunn died of breast cancer,' Kate said quietly.

‘What?'

‘Sorry, I don't mean to freak you out or anything. I just thought I ought to tell you.'

‘God, Kate. I hope Aunt Jean hasn't got it. I'd die.' I felt scared, as if I was hurtling towards a black hole opening up in front of me.

‘Sorry, Jules. I don't reckon your aunt's got it. Think positively.' Kate sounded contrite. ‘Sometimes I wish I could keep my big mouth shut.'

‘Don't worry. It's not your fault.'

‘No I know, but maybe it wasn't the right time to talk about Rell, if you know what I mean.'

‘It's okay. Look I better go.'

‘Are you angry with me?' Kate asked.

‘No. No way. I'm going to have a bath before I go to bed. Do you want to check out the waves in the morning?'

‘Great.'

‘Oh shit, I forgot. I said I'd have breakfast with my aunt in the morning. I'll have to keep my eye on the time and get back about six-thirty.'

‘I've got a waterproof watch, I'll wear it.'

‘Great, same place, same time.'

‘See you, and Jules,' Kate had a serious tone. ‘Don't worry about your aunt, you know worry only gets you wrinkles.' Kate laughed and hung up.

I couldn't help but smiling about my new friend. I ran the bath, swishing the water around to get the right temperature, feeling comforted by its warmth.

CHAPTER 6
Wednesday

The aftermath of the storm was a wild, unmanageable sea. The rain had stopped but the wind was practically cyclonic. It was blowing a gale off the water, chopping the waves into turbulent dumpers. It looked dangerous. I wondered if Kate was looking at the same scene from her sister's balcony. Dawn was grey and the approaching sunrise unremarkable.

I ran down the stairs to my rendezvous.

The wind howled and swept plastic bags up the street. I caught a couple.

‘This weather's shit,' Kate said, approaching from the corner.

I noticed she didn't have her surfboard.

‘Do you want to come up for breakfast?'

‘Will your aunt mind?'

‘No, she's not up yet, and won't be for at least another hour.'

I put my finger to my lips as we passed Aunt Jean's bedroom door. We tiptoed to the kitchen. I put the bags I'd collected in our rubbish bin and put the
kettle on.

‘Tea or coffee?' I got two cups down.

‘Coffee, thanks. This is a great place.' Kate looked around admiringly.

‘My aunt's lived here all her life.'

‘I like it better than my sister's. This place has a past. My sister's is so new.'

‘No ghosts of its own,' I said.

‘Yeah. You know here, you can imagine other times.'

I'd never really thought about it like that.

I poured the coffee. It was too bleak to sit out on the balcony, so we sat at the kitchen bench.

‘Well that's stuffed up the morning,' Kate said. ‘I wish I was one of those people who could go back to bed and sleep. Once I'm up and awake, that's it.'

‘Me too.' I sipped my coffee. ‘Kate, do you want to come to a rave on Saturday night? If you don't …' I left the sentence unfinished.

‘Cool. I'll come.'

‘I'll ring Phoebe later to get tickets for us.'

‘How much?'

‘Depends, I guess. Maybe if Phoebe and Jasmine aren't doing anything, we could go over to their place later.'

‘Do they live together?'

‘No Jasmine is staying at Phoebe's. She had a big
fight with her mum.'

I'd have to warn Phoebe and Jasmine not to spill the beans about my parents. I'd have to tell them I'd told Kate they died in a car crash.

‘Is it only you and your aunt living here?'

‘No, my brother Toby usually does, but he's up the bush with our uncle.'

‘Whereabouts?'

‘Oh you know, the back of Bourke. Out west.'

‘Never been there.'

‘It's the end of the line.'

‘Is that where you come from?'

‘Y … yes.' I hoped this was the last question about my past.

Kate looked at me. My stuttering had alerted her to something.

‘I'm sorry, Jules, I forgot about the car accident. No wonder you're worried about your aunt.'

As if on cue, I heard Aunt Jean coming out of her bedroom. The first place she went was the toilet. I then heard her in the bathroom, splashing water on her face. This was her morning ritual. You could tell the time by Aunt Jean's habits.

‘Should I go?' Kate whispered.

‘No. It's cool.' I put the kettle on and got the juicer out of the cupboard.

‘Would you like an orange juice?' I cut the oranges
in half.

‘Thanks.'

I put some bread in the toaster and got out the butter and marmalade and put them on the table.

‘Good morning Julie, and you must be Kate.' Kate stood up. Aunt Jean held her hand out. They shook. ‘Pleased to meet you, um, Miss um …' Kate looked at me for help.

‘Just call me Jean.'

‘Okay, Jean.' Kate sat down again.

I put the jug of orange juice on the table with three glasses.

‘Looks like a pretty miserable day,' Aunt Jean said, peering out the kitchen window.

‘It's a shocker. There's no way I'm going near the water this morning,' I said, sitting down at the table.

Aunt Jean brought the coffee plunger to the table. I was almost going to tell Aunt Jean about Rell Sunn, but decided because of the breast cancer stuff it probably wasn't a good subject right now.

‘Where do you live Kate?' Aunt Jean asked.

‘Up near Taree.'

We ate in silence. I looked at Aunt Jean's face to see if I could see signs of worry. Other than her usual wrinkles, there was no discernible difference. Was she paler than usual, or was that my imagination? It was hard when you saw someone every day, to see
changes.

‘I told Kate about your appointment,' I said to Aunt Jean. ‘I hope that's all right?'

‘Fine. It's only a little lump. I'm not worried,' Aunt Jean said.

I could detect by her mouth she wasn't really fine, there was no smile.

‘Has anyone in your family had breast cancer?' Kate asked.

I nearly died. How dare Kate say the cancer word? I went red with embarrassment and couldn't look at Aunt Jean.

‘Not that I'm aware of,' Aunt Jean replied calmly, ‘I don't come from a very big family and don't know some of my cousins, but no one in the immediate family I know of.'

‘That's good,' Kate said cheerfully.

I wanted to strangle her for raising the subject.

‘Indeed it is, Kate and that's why I'm only slightly worried.'

I hoped this was the end of the conversation.

‘I wonder if the weather's going to stay like this?' I said.

‘Oh Julie, you always bring up the weather when you're uncomfortable with a subject,' Aunt Jean laughed.

That stung. I could feel tears welling. Why did
Aunt Jean diss me? Why take her lump out on me? I changed the subject for her sake, couldn't she see that? I was stuck for words. I wanted to say something nasty, but my mind went blank. Anyway come to think of it, Aunt Jean always changed the subject, not me. Adults are so inconsistent.

Kate came to the rescue. ‘I hope the weather changes this afternoon.'

I was so angry with Aunt Jean but tried to pretend everything was normal. I got up and turned the radio on for a surf report, hiding the angry glint in my eyes.

‘Thanks for breakfast, Julie.' Aunt Jean came and gave me a hug. I stiffened.

Small beads of rain ran down the kitchen window. The traffic started becoming more regular. The street lights were off. I wanted to push Aunt Jean away, but couldn't be bothered.

‘I'll ring you this afternoon,' Aunt Jean said, as she kissed me lightly on the forehead.

Go away and have breast cancer, I wanted to shout and then immediately felt terrible. I'm sorry, I thought, but Aunt Jean shouldn't have said that about me and the weather.

‘Nice meeting you Kate.'

‘You too,' Kate stood up awkwardly.

I didn't say anything as I cleared the breakfast things away.

‘Your aunt seems all right.'

‘Sometimes,' I answered, scowling at the sink.

Kate brought plates over, oblivious to my state of mind.

‘What are you doing today? You're welcome to hang around here if you want.' I said it half-heartedly, because I wanted to chew on my misery.

‘I'm meeting my sister for lunch and then we're going shopping. Carol wants to spend some money so I'm going along to help her. Some big bonus she got for rescuing her boss's backside or something.'

I was secretly relieved.

‘I'll be back about three or four,' Kate said.

‘I'll ring Phoebe and Jasmine and see what they're doing later. If we can't surf maybe we could meet them for coffee or something.'

I'd changed my mind about taking Kate to their place. They were my friends and I didn't want Kate to spoil that. What if they liked her better than me? I mean she's pretty cool and knows heaps. What if they thought I was boring because I didn't like to party and stuff like Kate did?

‘I've got hours before I meet Carol. How about you teach me Scrabble?'

‘You're kidding.'

‘Well what else could we do? We're not exactly the practising make-up or hairstyles types are we?'

‘No, I guess not. We could go online if you like.'

‘Now you're talking. I could see if any of my friends are on.'

I logged on and gave up my seat for Kate. The weather was bad up north as well, Kate called out, as I stared out my window at the chaotic dark sea.

I was amazed, when I went into the kitchen and glanced at the clock, how much time had gone by. I rushed back to Kate.

‘What time do you have to meet your sister?'

‘Twelve-thirty.'

‘It's ten to twelve, you better hurry.'

‘I better get a cab, I reckon.'

‘It'll cost heaps.'

‘My sister will pay. It's fine.'

‘You're probably better off trying to hail one.'

‘Can I borrow something to wear? I don't think Carol will appreciate it if I turn up looking like this.'

We rushed into my room. Kate grabbed a couple of things out of the wardrobe and hurriedly dressed.

‘I'll come down with you, I have to get a few things at the shop.'

We raced out of my building and down the street. A couple of empty cabs headed down Campbell Parade. We needed one to come the opposite way. It took ten minutes before a taxi stopped.

The afternoon stretched out in front of me. I
bought the milk and bread. I walked slowly up the street, the wind pushing against me. Once inside, I rang Phoebe's place but there was no answer. I left a message on the answering machine. I was at a bit of a loose end and didn't know what to do with myself. I made myself a sandwich and went out on the balcony to read the newspaper. More bad news. I tossed it aside.

The wind had eased but the sea looked murky and uninviting. There were a few people on the beach, but no one was in the water. The phone rang. It was Phoebe. We arranged to meet at five o'clock at the Gelato Bar. I opened the door of Toby's room. I felt as if I was doing something wrong because he wasn't there. He was very private about his room and what went on behind the closed door. I looked at his posters. Some of them were pretty gross. Men, machines and sport were his main themes. He had some extreme pictures of surfers though. I studied them. Would I ever be brave enough to ride big waves? Some of them looked as high as buildings. I admired Layne Beachley for surfing a thirty footer, not that Toby had her picture on his wall. If she can do it, so can I, I thought to myself.

Time seemed to be dragging. I swear the clock had hardly moved since the last time I'd looked. I wished I had a dog to take for a walk. I felt lonely going on
my own. I was scared something might happen to me. I didn't know what, but sometimes I'd think of all those gay men who'd been murdered on the cliffs around from the Bondi Baths in the late-eighties. I knew the chances of it happening to me in broad daylight on the beach or anything, were remote, but what if I saw something I shouldn't and I had to be rubbed out. I knew I was being dramatic, I couldn't help it. It was like sometimes my mind seemed to be on its own trip. I jumped at shadows and the only place I felt totally safe was on my surfboard.

I thought about my father's letter again. I remembered some of the things that were said in court. Words echoed in my mind. Post-traumatic stress, unjust war, horror, murder. I didn't want to think about all of that again, so I turned on the TV. It was a talk show and it seemed so false. I thought the audience had to be actors. No one would choose to be that stupid on television. I switched it off.

I went and lay on my bed.

I'd dozed off. The insistent ringing of the phone woke me. I felt a bit groggy and disoriented. The phone stopped just as I reached it. I waited and listened for the answering machine to kick in. It didn't. I hated that. Not knowing who it was. Oh well, they'd ring back if it was important. I used to hate that when Mum would say it, if I'd forgotten
something.

I ran my hand along the wall as I went back to my bedroom. The posters of great women surfers on my wall made me wonder if I really ever would be that good. I studied the one of Layne Beachley on the thirty footer. Could I do that? I imitated her stance and imagined the huge wave above me. I closed my eyes and I could smell the sea. Why hadn't I lived here all my life? A lot of women surfers started young, because they lived near the sea. Why did I have to grow up in a red dirt-covered land? Why did I grow up with fighting parents? Why did they hate each other? Why did I ask myself questions that didn't have answers?

I opened my eyes and looked at the drawer with my father's letter. I wished I had one from my mother. I had nothing of her memory, nothing of hers that was mine. The only photos were the ones Aunt Jean had. I wonder what Dad had written to me, what could he possibly say? I opened the drawer. At first I didn't want to pick it up. It made me cry. The envelope was crumpled from the hundreds of times I'd held it. I'd even screwed it up once, to throw in the bin. I couldn't do it. The phone rang again and I quickly shut the drawer and ran to answer it.

It was Kate. We arranged for her to come to my place. I didn't go back in to my room.

When Kate arrived we went up on to the roof. The air smelt more like the mix of sea and city. There was only a faint trace of smoke. The sea was still pretty wild.

‘This'd be a cool place for a party,' Kate said.

I'd never thought about it. I looked around, seeing the rooftop in a different light.

‘You could put lanterns and lights around.' Kate turned around, hands outstretched. ‘The band over there.'

Band, get a grip, I panicked.

‘Don't think the neighbours would appreciate it. Below us are some very old people, you know sixty or something.'

‘They're probably deaf. The music would carry out into the stratosphere, not downstairs.'

‘They're not deaf. Anyway, I don't think so. I don't want the responsibility of a party.'

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