The Windy Season (19 page)

Matthew was now just a silhouette at the furthest end of the point, backlit by the phosphorescence of the surf. With his hand to his head he looked like a man trying to hold on to his hat. Beyond him, rising from the plateau of the reef, was the bluff.
Under the clear night sky the red walls looked almost blue, its bare, cratered slopes like something out of
Star Wars
. Paul lay flat on his back and felt the percussions of the breaking waves in the dense rock beneath him. He thought of the photos on Elliot's wall and wondered if he had ever been here. Paul could imagine him out on that point, sitting on his surfboard, eyes lit up.

Hello, Kasia said above him, drying herself with her t-shirt. And Happy New Year. She raised her arms behind her head, wringing her hair.

Oh . . . Paul stammered, sitting up.

We have not had introductions, she said in a mock-serious voice, holding out her hand, grinning. My name is Kasia.

Paul, he replied, rushing the word, trying not to look at her bare breasts. My name is Paul.

They shook hands. He looked away towards the bluff. Saw Fran and Matthew walking away in the direction of the car, slipping into the darkness of the path. Kasia sat down. He was fiercely aware of her body next to him, the sound of her breathing.

You do not like to swim? asked Kasia.

Not at night I don't. Not in the middle of nowhere.

Oh, she sighed, disappointed. It is so lovely. So warm.

No thank you.

Paul looked at the dark water. He wrapped his arms tight around himself. Kasia grinned at him.

Where did the others go? he asked.

Francesca will come back for us, Kasia said. They went back to town. Matthew is still bleeding a bit. He might need stitches.

You okay? I mean, what happened back there, at the tavern . . .

Yeah. I am good. Fucking losers, she said, shaking her head.

What were they doing?

God, I do not know what happens in their heads. We just finished at the bar and came out to see the music. And then that skinny one grabs me.

Roo Dog.

Yes, that horrible one. He tries to kiss me. I push him off but he will not let go. And then Matthew tells him, Stop. Next thing, the tall one comes and punches him. So crazy. Then you come, falling down. Like Superman, kind of. Kasia laughed.

Paul grimaced.

No, no, she said. It was very brave, Paul. Not pretty, but brave. She gave another laugh then reached over and ruffled his hair.

I can't believe them, he said. That they could do that.

I do not worry about it. I have seen guys like that before. They are in every place, not just here.

A large wave thundered far up the point, the sound of it suddenly everywhere.

Besides, she said, I have only been in this country a few months. I have got more to do, you know? They cannot scare me off.

How long will you stay? Paul asked.

In Stark? I am not sure. It is just so different from home, you know? It is kind of shit here, she said with a sigh, but it is somewhere else.

What's it like where you're from?

Cold! she gasped. In January, like around this time, it is fucking freezing. She leant back and laid her head down, closing her eyes.

No, no, she continued. It is beautiful. Like, where I am from, in Chelm, it is lovely. Old, like, really old buildings. Five hundred years or more, even. Big rivers. The woods. All the tourists love it. I have just seen enough, you know? I needed to get out.
I thought I should go to a wild place, far away. She laughed. Like everyone else does.

Paul lay back down beside the girl. He stole a look across at her and saw the water beaded on her legs and the patchy translucence of her underwear.

What about you? she asked. When will you go home?

After the summer. Think the skipper will pull the boat out around May, for the winter. I might go back to Perth then. But I don't know. At home, it's weird now.

You are the one with the brother. I heard some things.

Paul nodded.

You have not found him?

No.

And your parents send you here? she asked, puzzled.

I wanted to come.

But they let you?

I'm not a kid.

No, she said. It is just, I cannot understand. I would have thought they would want you with them.

Paul shrugged.

Where do you think he is?

I don't know. It's been so long. Over four months. The police say to be prepared for bad news.

Bad news?

They think he might not be coming back. He might not be alive.

She watched him, said nothing.

I'm just not sure if I can go home yet, Paul said. I don't really know if I want to.

Kasia sat up. Come on, she said.

What?

You must swim.

No. Please. I can't. It's still dark. Whitetips feed at night.

White what? Kasia laughed, pushing herself to her feet.

Reef sharks.

And monsters, maybe? she said. A Loch Ness monster?

No. Just sharks. They are bad enough.

Really?

Forty-eight teeth. And that is just the exposed ones. A great white has two hundred and fifty back in its mouth.

My god, she said, with a big smile. You have a phobia.

When I was a kid I was too scared to swim in the neighbours' pool. I was convinced that a great white shark would come out of the pool light. Swim up the pipes, the wires. Break into the swimming pool through the light fixture and eat us.

Paul looked at his hands. Inhaled and hoped more words would materialise in his head. Something that sounded less unhinged.

There will be no sharks, Kasia said. I promise. She stood over his legs and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him up.

How can you promise? he said weakly. He could see the prickled skin of her thighs, the fine hairs. He felt dizzy with her there, that close to him.

There you go, she said as she pulled him to his feet. The girl lifted his shirt and he helped her drag it over his ears. Despite the warm air he began to shiver.

Good boy, she said to him.

Kasia held both his hands in hers. In the moonlight her pale blue eyes were like halogen globes. He couldn't speak.

Come on, she said.

Kasia led him over the cool plates of rock to the small keyhole in the reef. She stepped down into the darkness, still holding his
hand, drawing him in. Paul thought of Circus. He thought of the hardness in his shorts.

Paul slid into the sea with her, letting his weight go. He kept one hand on the lip of the reef. His feet searched for the bottom but it was deep. The current spun around his legs in broad columns of water. His breaths were shallow. She pulled him to her, wrapping her legs tight around his waist. Her arms hard across his back. Her chest against his. She sighed into his ear. He drew a long, jagged breath.

You know this place, Stark? Kasia whispered, her chin on his shoulder. It is so harsh. It is funny this place, you know? It can be the worst thing ever. Be really shit. And then it will be beautiful. Maybe it is just like everywhere else in that way. Shit and beautiful. Or maybe it is special. That is what I don't know yet.

Paul felt the girl shift on his waist, her hand move down on him. The bluff towered above them. The surf sang out.

You see us going through deserts. Through the heart of everything. But before this? There's not so much I can tell you. There is not so much that I know. I never did meet my dad. Know my mother wasn't well and she was dead when I was small. Then it was just me and my gran and I was twelve when I found her stiff in her bed. She'd died in her sleep but had a look on her face like she'd tried like hell not to.

Must have been sometime after that some bikie fellas in Tennant Creek were looking after me cos I was thirteen when they got me into the business. Just dealing at first, then they taught me how to cook. Back then I swore it was the smartest thing I ever did. Like I'd been given the keys to a bank. Learning different methods, different recipes. Learning the whole shebang.
Markets. Profit margins. They would pick me up from my house and drop me at the edge of town someplace where it was safe from coppers or anyone else and then they'd leave me alone. A farmhouse or a van. A demountable shed. A shipping container. Leave me with as much ice as I could smoke. You'd OD before you got anywhere near through any of it. Cooking an ounce a day. Four or five days straight before they'd drop me home to sleep.

Then I met the President and he got me out of cooking. Said I was too smart a kid to rot in a lab. Said the chemicals were killing me and I sometimes wonder if he was too late.

And I don't expect no sympathy. Why should you give it. I never ran. I could have tried. There's a lot that I don't know but I do know there were times that I could have tried to run. And you don't know some of the things I've done. Everything's got its price. I've done things that should never be asked of anybody.

But after everything you wonder what is left. You can wonder what is underneath your skin. And you reckon there will be a time when you will see it. When it will be clear and decided like some kind of judgement. A reckoning. That is what it feels like. A wheel on a gameshow that spins and its finger rakes over the different shades of your insides. Flickers over it. The dark and the light. Good and the evil. The human and the parts of you that are not human at all. And the wheel spins and it is all the waiting to find out where the wheel will stop is what keeps you awake. The dark or the light. The good or the evil.

Afterglow

HIS FACE SCRATCHED AGAINST THE
cracked leather of a couch. There was the sound of dishes being put away. Daylight stormed his eyes when he opened them and his whole body tensed. He sat up and looked around the living room.

There you are!

Paul turned to see Matthew standing in the kitchen, a wide smile on his face despite the wound above his eye. The skin of his brow looked tight. The stitches bulged like upholstered leather.

That was some night, hey? Matthew said, the words singing off the tiles, his English accent bright and melodic.

Paul nodded.

Twenty-three stitches. Can you believe that? The bastards. It'll look like I've got a train track on my head. My mum is going to have a fucking freak-out. Matthew laughed. Can I get you
something? he said. Would you like a cup of tea? Or we've got coffee.

Water? Paul asked.

Matthew reached for the cupboard above the fridge and removed a glass. Kasia just went to the shops, he said. She'll be back soon.

I might go see if I can find her.

Suit yourself, Matthew said. He walked around the kitchen counter and handed Paul the tumbler of water. Here, get that into you. You look like shit.

The air outside was windless and hot. The sun bit his arms and the nape of his neck, a sharp burning, like the heat from a flame. As he walked Paul inspected his chin with his fingers. He could feel the bruising. He opened his mouth and closed it again and could hear a clicking within the hinge of his jaw, near his ear.

You going home? a voice said from behind.

Kasia stopped her bike next to him, putting a bare foot down to the pavement.

Paul shrugged.

Somewhere you have to be? she said.

No.

I have lunch if you want some.

Okay, he said.

She hopped off her bike and he followed her, the two of them walking without speaking.

Inside, Matthew and Francesca lay on the couch, looking at each other. Francesca was touching Matthew's eyebrow with her fingertips. Kasia stood behind the counter of the kitchen, scooping ice-cream into the jug of milk and coffee. Paul sat on
the kitchen stool, racking his brain for something to say. The blender relieved the silence. Paul cleared his throat.

Kasia pushed a glass of iced coffee towards him. Paul thanked her, the words catching in his throat and arriving somewhere between a whisper and speech. She looked at him, eyes serious as she sipped from her own glass, remaining stern when she drew the cup away, melted ice-cream across her upper lip. Paul laughed and she smiled.

When they'd finished their drinks, Kasia took his hand and led him to her room. Once through the door she kissed him, and he tasted the sweet and sour of sugar and coffee. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her shorts and put it on the bedside table then sat down on the bed, a brown leg tucked under her.