Wrath. Part 9

"Got any money?"

"Sure. I got paid yesterday."

"Don't spend it all on beer." He stepped towards me and lowered his voice even though the racket from the hotel was drowning out anything anyone else might hear. "Toby's got a stash."

"Great. I like it better than beer anyway." We stood for a few minutes, scanning the people flowing in and out of the doors to the bar, and then Ross saw someone he knew. He jogged forward and grabbed a tall, skinny guy in a checked shirt and black jeans by the arm. They talked for a few seconds, and then Ross handed him something from his back pocket-maybe cash, maybe weed. Anyway, the tall guy disappeared down the side street to the bottle shop at the back and then walked across to the darkness of the park with a slab of beer. He went behind the toilet block, and when he came back out, he was minus the slab. We walked casually over to the toilet block, and Ross picked up the beer up and tucked it under his arm.

Five minutes later, we were sitting between sand dunes not far from the water and giving out the cans of beer. We lit a small fire and sat in a circle around it, silent apart from the giggling girls who seemed to spill more of their beer than they drank. I didn't like the taste much, so I stayed with the one can while the rest of the boys kept on drinking. The silence didn't last for long as the alcohol started working, and before long, Ross and Brian had moved in on the girls.

A few minutes later, they got up to go for a walk', and the rest of us sat there, laughing and messing around but with envy clear on everyone's face. Not mine, though. I had the thought of Karol to keep me happy.

When the talk lulled, I touched Toby's arm. "Got some?"

"Yep," he said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a packet of weed and some papers. I handed him the money, and he took it and turned back to the other boys. I rolled the paper carefully around the dry weed and licked the edge to stick it down. I smiled to myself when I remembered the time Toby had thought he could charge us more by doing all the rolling beforehand and selling them ready-made, but we'd all said, "Yuck! We don't want to smoke your spit," so he sadly went back to selling his little packs. The fire died right down to a dull glow, mirrored in miniature by the pinpoints of light in the darkness where each of us lay smoking. I threw my towel over me and drifted off.

Later-who knows when-Toby loomed beside me and sat down. "Want something a bit stronger?"

"Like what?"

"I haven't got any here, but I got some speed from a kid at school."

"Where'd he get it?"

"Who knows? Who cares? Do you want to try it?"

I considered his offer. I had no intention of becoming a druggie, so I didn't take anything but the occasional puff, but hey, this was different. I felt so powerful, so adult, that day. Why not try something new to mark my new life? Soon I would have my own gorgeous girlfriend, and it would be so good to be close to someone again.

"How much?"

"I haven't got much, so maybe just $20 will do it."

We lay there for a while, the sound of the waves lulling me to sleep, but it was getting cold and I was so thirsty. "I'm going. I've got work tomorrow." I said.

"Do you want to come over tomorrow and I'll give it to you?"

"Sure. I knock off at 2.30." I looked at the dark b.u.mps lying on the sand. "Ross and Brian didn't make it back?"

"Nah. Probably took those two slags home. Think I'll go too."

We walked up the beach, our mouths dry and heads hazy, and waved to each other. I was home 20 minutes later and asleep not long after that.

I had an early shift the next day, and the coffee shop was pretty busy. A bus load of tourists kept me flat out bringing their coffee and cakes, cleaning the tables and working on the till. Near the end of my shift, I heard the low purr of a powerful car pull up outside, and I glanced out quickly. A tall blond guy I hadn't seen before got out. Lucky, I thought as I cleaned a table of crumbs, ripped open sugar packs and spilled coffee.

As I juggled the cups and plates back behind the counter to the kitchen, I heard, "Hi, Luca." There she was-Karol! She was with another girl I'd seen at school. "You know Luca, don't you, Mich.e.l.le?"

"Yeah, of course. You're in my science cla.s.s."

Karol smiled at me, that beautiful, open smile that I felt was just for me. "We're here with Mich.e.l.le's brother and his friend." I turned and looked, and there, laughing with his friend and leaning back in his chair in the window, was the blond guy with the car. "Can we have four coffees please? Two cappuccinos and two short black?"

I nodded, took the money from Mich.e.l.le and gave the order to the barista.

"Bye!" They turned and walked across to the table. As Karol squeezed around it, the blond guy turned and pulled the chair out for her. She sat down and leaned towards him, her hand on his shoulder.

"Get a move on, Luca. There are two orders here waiting." My boss stood there, frowning.

"Sorry," I murmured, grabbed the first tray and whisked it over to Table 17. Then I took the second one outside, where people were sitting under the umbrellas dotting the stretch of paving between the shop and where the sand started. By the time I got back to the counter, the order for Karol's table was ready. My hands were shaking slightly, but I took a deep breath and carried the tray over. I put it down on the empty table beside them and handed out the four cups. Not a drop spilled.

"Thanks, Adam," smiled Karol, touching the guy's arm again. "This is Luca, a friend from school. He is teaching me how to surf the waves without a board."

He flicked a dismissive glance at me. "So how's that going, babe? Getting the hang of it?"

"I think so," she said, smiling up at him, her eyes all sparkly and wide. Picking up the tray, I carried it back and forced myself not to look across their way again. I collected the cups from outside and wiped down the tables, and then a few minutes later, I saw them get up and walk out, holding hands. The four of them walked along the beach, and then I saw Adam put his arm around Karol's shoulders and she snuggled up to him, her arm going around his waist.

I went outside and wiped the tables again mechanically, my eyes unable to pull themselves away from Karol. It was so painful that my chest hurt, and for one horrible moment, I felt tears p.r.i.c.kle my eyes before I blinked them down. Pushing my way back through the cafe doors, through a crowd of chattering j.a.panese tourists, and I circled methodically around the tables, cleaning, smiling and taking orders like a demented robot until Jerry, my boss, called me over.

"That's it for the day. See you next week."

I changed back into my clothes and then caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Who was I kidding? What chance did I have against a good-looking 18-year-old with a car? Walking outside into the glaring heat, I stood undecided. I felt like going home and rolling up in a ball, but chilling out with Toby seemed a better choice.

Turning left, I trudged to Toby's house. I could hear the music booming out from his room at the back, so I walked around the side and banged on the back door. The music stopped, the door swung open and he was there, grinning at me. "Thought it might be you."

I followed him to his room, and we sprawled onto a couple of old chairs. He bent down and pulled out an envelope taped to the underneath of the chair he was sitting on. I flicked two $10 bills at him, and he handed me a tablet and took one for himself. "I can make this up for you instead." From the bottom of the envelope, he fished out a small, plastic syringe.

"Nah, just a tablet. I don't want to start shooting up. This is just a one-off, and then the odd bit of weed is enough for me. I don't want to end up with a fried brain."

He snorted but dropped it back in the envelope. "Whatever. You'll feel different after you've had one of these. Take another one for later."

"I haven't got any more money on me." It wasn't true, but I didn't want it.

"No worries. You can pay me at school tomorrow." He was being a bit aggressive, which wasn't like him, so I guessed he must have taken something already. I took the tablet and put it in my pocket. I'd give it back to him tomorrow. I didn't go to work to spend my money on drugs. I'd saved up nearly $2,000 from my work. I'd need it when I left home.

"Take one now, and then we can head off. Maybe go around to Ross's. My mum'll be home soon, and she can always tell if I've had something. Don't take the other one today. You don't know how you're going to react the first time."

I was regretting it a bit now. I didn't want to stagger home and have Reid know I was off my face. His words had never left me-that I'd end up under a bridge in Perth. I'd just take this tablet, hang around Ross's till it wore off, and then go home. I'd buy a pizza and hang out in my room tonight. I gulped it down while Toby was taping the envelope carefully back under the chair, and we came around the side of the house just as Toby's mum pulled into the drive.

"Hi, Mrs Williams, "I said, waving at her as Toby hurried past the car, his head down. "We're just going for a walk."

"Okay, Luca," she smiled. Her old station wagon was full of kids and dogs and boxes of fruit. "Be back for tea, Toby!"

"Sure, Mum," he called back, pulling his cap down over his eyes. I caught up to him, and we jogged up the road. The sun was still high, but it had lost some of its kick.

"Feeling any different?" Toby's eyes were bloodshot under his gingery eyelashes.

"Mustn't've worked," I shrugged.

He laughed. "Just give it a bit more time."

Ross's house was a few blocks away. His parents were wealthy, and there was a long, semicircular drive leading up to the front door. I remember there was a big garden, but what was in it I had no idea until today; as we turned into the drive, the colours of the flowers and the trees seemed to pop in my face. Hibiscus, frangipani, palm trees-I hadn't realised there were so many greens! I stopped and picked a fallen flower from the ground. Its petals arched away from the centre, the stamens stretching towards me like tiny arms. The colours! There was red, but that word wasn't enough; it was luscious, velvety, deepening like rich, strong blood as it flowed into its throat. I had never seen anything so beautiful.

Toby sn.i.g.g.e.red. "It's kicking in, man. Enjoy the ride." I turned my head to speak, but the movement of the trees above and around me-so gentle, so different to each other-made me forget what it was I had been about to say. He grabbed my arm. "Let's go around the back way."

"No," I managed to breathe, my voice so loud, my breathing fast. "I want to walk. No, I want to run!" and I turned right onto the footpath without a glance back, the stones crunching beneath me. It was as though I'd been looking at the world through a light haze, and it had suddenly lifted, and I could see everything-sharp, unique, new. Energy raced through my veins, and I had to run.

Down the road, skirting the main street, waiting so long when a car came; darting between cars, too impatient to wait and knowing they couldn't hurt me, and then the sand, the beach, the waves. I bent and pulled off my shoes and threw them over the little wall behind the cafe, and then I was off, the sand light and warm under my feet. I ran like never before, loping smoothly with no effort. Every wave surged at me, diamonds of water hurtling at my approach. I was a king, a master of the earth! My body would not tire! I would run like this forever, past the straggling beachgoers and past the boats snuggled together at the marina until there was only me, the sand, the sky and the vast stretch of ocean.

From far away, I could hear my breath rasping, but my pace never slowed. Gulls scattered from my path, screeching and wheeling, and I felt that with just a little more effort, I could have leapt into the sky and soared and banked into the wind with them.

At last, I slowed and flung myself down on the sand. The sun had dipped low, and I lay there marvelling at whatever had created that vast sprawl of colour and light, every cloud edged in gold, nestling plumply and softly in the heavens, waiting for night.

I must have dozed for a while, and when I woke, it was getting cold and the wind had whipped up the sand, blasting it against my bare legs. I got to my feet and turned back. The sky had darkened, and the first few stars were out. The desire to run had gone, and I was covered in sweat, my head thumping dully.

I trudged back the way I had come, the feeling of power ebbing now, and in its place, the memory of Karol and her friends. The more I thought, the angrier I became. That guy was just like Reid, sneaking in under my guard. Some part of me knew this wasn't right. I had no claim on Karol, and I certainly wasn't her boyfriend in anyone's eyes but mine-but that didn't stop me. If I had run into him then, I know I would have smashed him. I didn't care how old he was or how much bigger, I would have flattened him.

My head was really pounding, and my mouth was dry. By the time I got back to the cafe and put on my shoes, it was dark and the streets were pretty much deserted. Not much happened in town on a Sunday night.

I put my hand in my pocket to buy a drink, and I felt the little plastic packet and pulled it out. The tablet glowed dully in the dimness. I raised my hand to throw it away. To take it home, perhaps to be found by Reid, was too dangerous; I had contained my pot smoking to when I was out with friends for the same reason. But then some little kid could pick it up and think it was a lolly. What the h.e.l.l. How bad could it be?

I opened the edges of the little bag and swallowed the tablet. I still felt angry because of Karol. I thought that maybe it would make me forget all that and take this b.l.o.o.d.y headache away at the same time. I leant back on the wall of the cafe and watched the stars. The sky was black, and the sea breeze had whipped up the surface of the water and made the masts of the yachts hum and make that strange ticking noise they always did in the wind. The moon rose higher, and still I sat.

Things were so perfect on the outside and so stuffed up inside. I felt so alone out there on the beach-Dad gone, Mum not the same person, and Katy, once my other half, had become a distant acquaintance, like an old friend you waved to at school but didn't care enough about to talk to. And now Karol. I had to laugh a bit wryly at that. What a t.o.s.s.e.r I was! As though she would be interested in me! Everything I loved left me.

It was time to go. I got to my feet and walked back through the dark streets. The flicker of a television was visible through the odd window, but mostly everything was dark. It must have been later than I thought. I felt strange. My head was still aching, and instead of feeling amazed by everything around me like I had been feeling earlier, I just felt like a ghost sliding through the streets alone.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

No lights were on as I walked up the drive. Reid's car was in the carport though, so I figured they were all asleep. I stopped uncertainly with the key in my hand. I just didn't want to wake anyone up and start a long conversation. "Where were you? Why are you out so late? I told you we'd be home by tea time," and so on and on and on. I just wanted to get inside and into my bed and to sleep, and maybe this dull rage I felt somewhere deep down would be gone in the morning.

Just then, a car sped past the house, and I twisted the key, its noise covered by that of the car. I pulled off my shoes and closed the door as quietly and slowly as I could. Tiptoeing down the pa.s.sage, I pa.s.sed the lounge and the dining room noiselessly. I was nearly there! I just had to get past Katy's door and then the bathroom, and my room was next. I knew my way pretty well in the dark, but I forced myself not to rush and kick something over.

I stopped. Katy's door was open. I could see it in the soft moonlight through her window. She never slept with it open, and I could see her inside, crying softly, sniffing and drawing in shaky breaths. I opened my mouth to whisper to her, and then I heard Reid's voice, low and soothing. Frozen, my mouth still open, I remembered hearing him once before from inside a bedroom-Mum and Dad's bedroom in our old place.

I staggered, stepped forward and switched on the light. Reid was sitting on the side of Katy's bed, dressed just in his pyjama pants. His round body, covered in ginger hair, turned, surprised, one of his hands outstretched towards me and the other on Katy's shoulder. Katy was sitting in bed, blinking in the harsh light, her face red and swollen. The moment seemed to stretch. Once again, I could see details so clearly-the pulse jumping in Reid's throat, the bitten-down nails on his hand, the tree outside rasping lightly at the window-and then rage, hot and powerful, surged through my body.

I lunged at Reid, my outstretched hands aiming for his throat. He jerked sideways and fell to the floor but was up again in a second, and his fist caught me hard on the ear. I hit the dressing table, and it crashed backwards, the corner catching my leg. I was dizzy with pain, but it felt a long way off. I felt powerful again, unstoppable. I pulled myself up, half-tripping over something rolling under my foot-Katy's baseball bat. Scrambling to my feet, I clasped the end of the bat in both hands and braced myself against the wall.

Reid stared at me, his eyes bulging, and as I raised the bat, he lurched towards me, face contorted and hands raised. A mist covered my eyes, a red film. So you really do see red! I had time to think, time to act! Not like that time so long ago in Dad's shed. As he came at me, I stepped to one side and swung with all my strength. Ah, the sweetness of that moment! Years of anger-at Dad, at Mum, even at Karol and that guy today-all surged together to focus on the start of it all: Reid!

The bat smashed into Reid's temple, and he stumbled towards me. G.o.d, he'll kill me now! I swung again, wildly, again and again. I could hear screaming, but I had to keep going. Something pulled at my arm, but I shook it off. There was someone else there in the haze between me and Reid.

"Out! Out of the way!" I tried to shout, but only a roar came out as I kept hitting and hitting till I sank, gasping, onto the floor.

I lay there, my head, my heart and my blood pounding. My breathing slowed gradually, and I felt the carpet p.r.i.c.king my face, my jaw and head aching, my shoulders and arms throbbing and a soft, strange moaning in my ears. I opened my eyes and looked at Katy. That sound was coming from her, huddled on the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring into s.p.a.ce, rocking and mumbling to herself.

"Katy!" I whispered. She didn't look up. I rolled painfully on my side, and my foot touched something. Christ! Christ! I pushed myself up onto my hands, my eyes staring but my mind not working.

Reid's leg was sprawled next to me, and he lay on his back, the side of his head a pulpy mess. Thick, dark blood oozed across the bridge of his nose where brighter blood congealed. Mum was lying across him, her face on his shoulder, turned away from me.

I've killed him, I thought. He's not just unconscious, he's dead! His eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling. Oh, Mum! What have I done? I hated him, but you loved him. She lay quietly, not even crying, with her arm so protectively across his chest. There was nothing I could say to her. I got to my feet groggily and sat down.

He had to be stopped. Dad wasn't here to protect Katy like he should have been, but I was. I put my arm around Katy's shaking shoulders. "It's over, Katy. He can't hurt you."

She stopped shaking, stopped breathing even, and turned to face me. Her eyes were huge, filled with tears, looking at me as though she didn't know who I was, and then her hands flew up, and she raked her nails down both sides of her face, screaming at me unintelligibly.

Shocked, I jerked back and slid from the edge of the bed onto the floor, staring at her. Then I turned away and looked straight into the dead, white face of my mother.

I can't really remember what happened after that. At some point, I was somehow in the pa.s.sage, dialling Emergency and speaking calmly to someone on the other end, but it wasn't really me; it just looked like me.

I was huddled somewhere a long way away.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

My new course starts next week. I'm going to do English, Mathematics, Human Biology, Physics, Chemistry and History. Mrs Shiels says it's a good, broad course that will get me into plenty of university courses if I do well enough. I don't really think about that side of it. One day at a time. Just today. The future is a foreign land.

Monday arrives, and Owen walks me across the yard and across neat squares of concrete to the cottage, and he knocks at the door. The cottage looks so neat, almost like something you'd see in a fairy tale-the cottage in the middle of the woods. There are some vegetables growing in beds on either side of the door. The only thing ruining the picture is the barbed wire on top of the perimeter fences and on the roof.

A stocky boy opens the door wide. "Hi, sir," he says, studiously not looking at me. He has the long, droopy face of a ba.s.set hound.

"G'day, Bruce. Boys," Owen says as we step inside. Closed doors face onto a central room, a combined lounge, kitchen, dining room and study. "This is Luca. He's the one who'll be working in here every day." A couple of boys nod, their faces impa.s.sive; the rest don't react at all. There is a silence that goes on too long, and then a boy, taller than the rest, steps forward.

"Hi, Luca. I'm Damien, and this is Norbert, Jamie, Jason and Bruce."

The boys nod but make no eye contact.

"Well, I'll be back at 12.30," Owen says and leaves. As soon as the door closes, a couple of the boys go back to the kitchen, but the others sit at the computers that are s.p.a.ced around the perimeter of the room. One of the doors opens, and I see a neat bedroom with posters on the wall, and another boy comes out. Damien takes pity on me again and calls from across the room, "Mr P will be here in a minute. He'll sort you out. Just grab a seat." I go and sit at the table, trying not to feel too much like a complete tool, and look at each boy.

Jason is Asian, short and slim, with black-rimmed gla.s.ses. He's sitting nearest me, and I can see he's working on some sort of maths program with equations cl.u.s.tered across the page. He's tapping rhythmically, and I turn to a boy slumped in his chair. He looks as though he's half asleep, but his fingers are flying over the keys, his head turning slightly from side to side as he takes notes from the screen. Norbert. Right. Norbert's blond and has a tat written in that old Gothic printing on one of his forearms. I crane my neck a little to read it. Wir sind das Volk. Whatever that means.

Someone drops a cup in the kitchen, and the boys all stop and laugh. "You dopey d.i.c.khead, Jamie!" Bruce, the one who opened the door, says, but I can't remember any more names. Easy to remember his name-Bruce the ba.s.set hound. They're cleaning the kitchen, sweeping the floor and stacking dishes into a cupboard.