The Children Of The Mist (3 page)

Zest grinned back. ‘Did that Wednesday night. Only had enough for the head. Cost of paint's going to put me out of business.'

Morven felt a small twinge of anxiety. Zest always looked hungry, his jeans cliffhanging from his hips and the ribs of his chest visible beneath his shirt. She pushed a hand into the back pocket of her jeans and found the 20 dollar note still in situ. She'd shout them both something to eat later.

He picked up a scuffed khaki backpack from beneath his seat and shook it. The contents rattled drily. Just like old bones, she thought.

As Zest's mouth opened to speak, a movement in the window caught her eye. It was the reflection of a woman standing just behind her. Not looking
at
her exactly, more…through her. Morven turned but there was no one there. She checked the window again, but she was gone.

‘Did you see that woman?' she asked.

Zest plucked his earplug out, turned and looked around the carriage. ‘What woman?'

‘The one wearing fancy dress.' Morven paused to try to recreate the image. ‘She was wearing a long, gold gown and she had dark hair covered in a thick kind of hair net.' She stopped and tried to remember. ‘And she wore a sash, a tartan sash. Black and green. And blue.'

Zest laughed, tilted his head a little and raised an eyebrow. ‘You been smoking the wacky weed?'

Morven was deeply offended. ‘No, I haven't!'

He grinned. ‘Chillax.'

Realising he was winding her up, Morven smiled back. Zest knew her better than that. Neither of them dabbled in chemistry. Who needed a pseudo high when they could already fly?

‘What's on?' she said.

‘Thought we'd hit the park for a while and then head down town. I got something special for you.'

Morven was immediately sucked in. ‘What? Where?'

Zest pretended to look offended. ‘What, you want me to spoil the surprise?'

Morven thought about it for a moment. ‘No. Stash it.'

The train began to slow. Morven picked up her board and followed Zest out onto the platform. She waited for him to slip on his backpack then she jumped on her board with unconscious ease, feet hitting the deck before the board hit the ground. And she was away, unperturbed by the irate glares of the pedestrians. She liked the long tunnel that connected the station to the outside. Its smooth tiled surface made for serious speed, with the added buzz of the small metal bands that she pushed over effortlessly. Ahead of the crowd the bodies thinned out and Morven's spirits did a loop the loop when she spotted the stairs. One flight. Twelve lovely steps. Light spilled in and she could barely believe their luck. Not a soul in sight.

It was a gift. Already she knew what she was going to do. This time it would be perfect. She steadied up a fraction, only vaguely aware of Zest beside her. Just metres away, she glanced over at him. He pointed left and moved aside. Morven was touched by his generosity. Maybe the spectacular stack she'd performed the last time was still forefront in his mind. She'd been black and blue for a month. No bones broken but a very large dent in her pride. With ruthless determination she focused. Her brain leapt ahead and her body and board followed; somehow she knew it was going to be fine. A few seconds of lift and halfway down the ascent the back of her board touched down and she was home. One long grind. She hit the floor, knees bent to absorb the impact. Zest swept by and gave a high-five. Exhilarated, Morven kicked off, eager not to be left behind.

They had to take a break through the city. Too many people, too many traffic lights. At the corner of the main street they waited on the cars.

Zest tapped his board to get her attention. ‘That was reckless.'

Morven nodded. It had felt pretty sick. But it was great to hear it put into words.

Zest stepped off the curb as the lights changed. ‘I think you're ready.'

Morven glanced at him curiously; he looked pretty wired, even for Zest. She felt a tingle of anticipation. ‘Ready for what?'

But he tapped his nose and struck out down West Street, leaving the swanky stores and soaring offices behind, replaced by inner city suburbia where cute cottages huddled between brick blocks of flats. The air smelled like money. But before long, the houses grew older and shabbier, the gardens larger and untidier. The smell of meat sizzling on barbeques vied with the stink of garbage that overflowed from bins. There was another aroma which at first she couldn't identify. It took a while before she realised it was the faint, fusty scent of the river. A baby wailed at the top of its lungs and a dog barked. The sun began to sink behind the city skyline, turning windows into molten gold.

Morven followed Zest's lead and hopped back on her board. Soon suburbia gave way to industry. Brick warehouses straddled cracked concrete compounds where thistles and marigolds competed for sun and soil. Except for the odd security van cruising the streets, it was quiet.

The dog barked again. ‘He knows we're coming,' she said.

Zest slowed a touch to match her pace. ‘How'd you figure that?'

The barking started again. Morven looked at him in surprise. ‘Can't you hear him?'

Zest cruised to a stop and listened. Then he looked at her and grinned wickedly. ‘Can't hear anything except the fart I'm about to release from captivity.'

Morven covered her nose and mouth. Zest's farts were legendary. She swore he secretly fed off carcasses. She accelerated, keen to avoid the issue. With a dirty cackle of laughter he took off after her. As the hard ground flew beneath her wheels, over curbs, cracks and grates she was filled with happiness. This was truly a shark-attack adrenaline rush. At the corner she chanced a look behind her, convinced Zest would be breathing down her neck. It took a minute to register that he was about a metre behind. She slowed a little and together they covered the rest of the familiar ground, slipping in and out of the shadows like bats. Finally the long, rusty fence that marked the beginning of the scrap metal yard came into sight and they slowed instinctively.

Morven glanced up and down the street. It was dusk, the sky soft lavender with a few brave stars twinkling. The street lamps made no impression against the half-light. With boards in hand they walked quickly down the fence line. They could hear the dog on the other side, his claws tapping softly on the ground. But he didn't bark. When they reached the huge iron gates Morven peered through the bars.

The big black Belgian shepherd stared back. His tailed wagged softly.

Zest looked quickly up and down the road. As he pulled a couple of slim instruments out of his backpack, the dog barked. A short sharp woof.

‘Shush, Dog,' said Morven.

Dog wagged his tail. In less than 20 seconds Zest had the gate open. Dog slipped out and jumped up to give Morven a big wet lick on the side of her face. His deep brown eyes were level with her own. The gate clanged shut and they were ready to go. The three of them raced down the empty road, Dog in hot pursuit, his tail waving wildly. They headed north-east, back toward the river. Ten minutes later they cruised into a park and came to rest behind a jacaranda tree.

Dog knew the routine and waited patiently for Zest to measure out his dinner from the bag in his pack.

‘Not too much,' Morven warned. While it had been his emaciated state that led them to start ‘borrowing' Dog, they didn't want him getting too well covered. Someone was bound to get suspicious. That would do Dog no good at all. As she watched the big animal inhale his food she was filled with frustration that they couldn't just take him. But neither she nor Zest had suitable accommodation. Besides, she knew that even her easygoing parents wouldn't approve, which in some ways was a relief. Sometimes it was a bit disconcerting to have parents who seemed unfazed by any of her antisocial behaviour. Even threats to get her tongue pierced had been received with mild murmurs of ‘That'd be nice, Morven.' Took all the joy out of life. She knew Zest wanted to take Dog too, but his place was a no-pet zone, like hers.

Dinner done, Dog waited for Zest to pack up. As soon as he saw them put down their boards, he was off. By the time they reached the skate park Dog was already doing the rounds, getting his share of Scooby snacks. Everyone loved Dog. The park was busy. Not just skaters, but pedestrians, cyclists and dog walkers too. The cool breeze off the water drew all kinds on a hot summer night. A tall, skinny guy known as Waffle was practising his moves on the brand new skate park, unanimously known as The Sink. It was a sick piece of action. All waves and dips, slides and angles. Morven watched Waffle make a pig's ear of a 360 and land in a tangle of limbs. Dog came to the rescue, paws on his chest, licking him back to life.

‘Geddoff, Dog!'

Zest had to go rescue Waffle from his rescuer. Not one to get the hump, Waffle retired and shared a packet of chips with Dog. Morven liked Waffle who reminded her of the old cartoon character, Goofy. A few minutes later Chino arrived, his short, dyed blonde hair incongruent with his dark skin. Next to Zest, Morven reckoned that Chino was the cat's poop. He skated like a fish swam. No thought, no plan, no fear. Pure instinct. A shark in the water. A bird on the wind. Chino was a skater boy, alright. Someone put on the music. Wasted Youth echoed off the concrete. An old couple scurried by, as if they were in a war zone, expecting a raid any time soon.

Morven waited for a break on The Sink. She didn't get one until Zest came off and gave her the nod. Pleased to be moving, she headed in. The music was loud. Really loud. It filled her brain and overflowed into her bloodstream, making her heart race to catch up. And she was on form. Her feet seemed to stick to the board like magnets on metal. She felt a rush and skimmed up the concrete wave, and curled over the edge, turning neat and
skiing back down. The speed was up and she flew back up the other side. It was high and she felt her hair snap with the 180. She was on a roll. Literally. Without thinking she made the tre flip, and then took the bunker. She came to a sweeping stop, no shake or wobble. She came off feeling fine, but unfulfilled.

‘Wicked wheels, Morven,' said Chino, pausing in his conversation.

Morven grinned, seriously pleased with herself. Ready to move on she looked around for Zest. She found him, a little apart from the others, Dog by his side. He gave her the victory sign.

‘You ready?' he said.

Was she ever. Her blood still boiled and bubbled like sherbet through her veins. ‘Let's do this thing.'

Zest took her down to the river path. It was slow going. It seemed half the city was out for an evening stroll. Morven had to restrain a growing desire to sweep the bodies aside. She wanted to be moving. But as they left the cafes and restaurants behind the crowd began to thin. When they reached the milk factory there was barely a soul in sight. A ferry slid by, all lit up like a Christmas tree. Waves lapped along the rotting timber jetty. They made a rude, sucking noise as they dropped away. Not unlike Zest's farts, in fact. Past the factory it suddenly seemed very dark. There was no light from buildings and the moon was still asleep.

Some of her frustration ebbed with a kilometre of untroubled skating. Neither spoke but Morven could sense the pent-up excitement in Zest. It was contagious. Inevitably it turned into an unspoken competition. Morven gritted her teeth, determined not to lose by an embarrassingly big margin. Dog barked and raced past, sensing the growing tension between the two. Zest lost ground when she took the jump over an abandoned shopping trolley which lay on its side like a metal carcass. She laughed at the look on his face, but her amusement faded as he zipped by. Furious to have lost her lead she pushed on. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest like a hammer on an anvil. And then they were neck and neck. Morven pushed with almost superhuman effort. With a cry of exaltation she watched the front of her board nudge ahead of Zest's, but before she could enjoy the moment, something caught her eye down at the river. As punishment for her loss of concentration her board caught in a crack, wobbled and she slapped face down onto the concrete.

‘Shit,' she said, peeling her face off the ground.

Zest was there, bending over her. ‘You okay?'

Dog stuck his hairy face in hers; his hairy eyebrows were drawn together and his ears pulled back to his skull. He licked her nose. It was a ‘Mintie moment'.

She stood slowly. Everything seemed to work. ‘Think so.' And then she turned to look at the water. It looked calm and oily, dark beneath the sky. Morven looked up and down stream. But…nothing.

‘What's up?'

Morven dragged her eyes to Zest. ‘Nothing,' she said. ‘All good.' She watched him look at the river, his eyes scanning east and west.

Keen to divert him, she picked up her board and dusted off her pants. Bugger, she'd torn the knee. ‘Where are we going?' she said.

Zest pointed down river. ‘About another kilometre. You up for it?'

Stung, Morven glared at him. ‘Of course.'

He grinned. Without another word she followed, but at a more sedate pace. She turned once more and looked into the dark depths of the water. She must be going crazy; she could have sworn she saw the reflection of a building in the river. Not so surprising in the normal run of things, but this was no ordinary building. It was a castle. Towers, dog tooth walls, and a flag to boot. She glanced the other way. The only building on the riverbank was a crumbling warehouse. Not so much as a tower in sight. Weird.

Morven was still pondering on this strange phenomenon when Zest stopped, and pointed. Morven pulled her brain back into the present and pulled up beside him. It was a building site. Her first response was one of disappointment. The fenced-off space was big and flat but it was tidy. There were no handy piles of timber, no concrete ramps. Not so much as a skip. Nothing that could be utilised for skating. She looked at Zest who shook the wire fence gently making it reverberate.