Beyond Carousel (23 page)

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Authors: Brendan Ritchie

BOOK: Beyond Carousel
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Lizzy rolled over and used a jumper for a pillow. I lingered for a moment, trying to find something to say. But I couldn't. There was every chance now that Lizzy would never see another.

After a long, fractured sleep through the day, I stirred just in time to catch the sun setting on a broken sky to the west. Lizzy was up, nervously humming some Feist and checking over our bikes.

‘Hey,' she said.

‘Hey,' I replied.

‘There aren't any more houses over that hill,' she said, nodding out the window.

‘What's there instead?' I asked.

‘I was going to ask you,' she replied.

I couldn't think of anything and shrugged
apologetically. Lizzy was pensive and we packed up quickly.

After a short ride the land began to rise, before the houses and cycle paths ended abruptly with fenced-off bushland. I realised then that we had reached the army barracks. For the regular apocalyptic survivor this would be good news. Safety, weapons, maybe a fallout bunker or something. For us it just meant a big detour inland before we could resume our search of the coast.

Sometime around eight we bridged the hill and rolled down into the coastal havens of Swanbourne and Cottesloe. There was a heartening scatter of lights amid the Norfolk pines. Lizzy turned and smiled, then beelined for the closest one. It was a grand looking wood and stone place with an old boat named
Doris
out the front.

Lizzy knocked and before long a burnt-out old rocker came to the door.

‘Evening,' he said.

‘Hey,' replied Lizzy.

‘What are you trading?' he asked.

Lizzy paused and we glanced at each other.

‘Oh, sorry. Nothing actually,' said Lizzy. ‘We're trying to find my sister. Taylor Finn.'

The guy looked at Lizzy strangely.

‘Musician from Canada. Hangs around with a painter. Looks a lot like you?' he asked.

‘Yes!' Lizzy and I replied in unison.

‘Yeah I've met her,' he said.

‘Do you know where she is?' asked Lizzy.

The guy shook his head.

‘Most people that are still around are up here in one of these houses,' he replied. ‘But there's no phone book, you know.'

Lizzy and I hovered momentarily.

‘Look for lights at night. And solar panels in the day,' he added.

‘Thanks,' replied Lizzy. ‘We also wanted to pass on a message from the Curator.'

The guy looked immediately sceptical. Lizzy shuffled back to give me the floor. I tried to think of a way to sell it to him, but came up blank. Lizzy nudged me, so I just told him straight.

‘Ed thinks there might be a chance we could get home if we go back to our Residencies exactly two years after the Disappearance,' I said.

‘With the art we created there,' added Lizzy.

The guy looked at us, then down at Chessboard.

‘What date is that?' he asked.

‘September second,' I replied.

‘Ed Carrington said this?' he asked.

I nodded. Lizzy started backing down the driveway.

‘Sorry. We gotta go,' she said.

The guy nodded. He seemed to be thinking it over at least. I waved and turned to join Lizzy. We raced on to the next house.

It was a frustrating night. Most of the houses we checked had Artists that had either met or heard of Taylor Finn. Some of them even mistook Lizzy for her, with welcoming smiles and talk of things we didn't know about. But none of them knew where we could find her. The Artist population was nomadic and fragmented. People would shift on a whim for better food, water or solar panels. None of the residents doubted that Taylor and Sophie were here somewhere. But none could offer anything concrete.

So, one after the other, I delivered my spiel about the Prix de Rome and we continued through the suburb. The lights started to drop away as the night dragged on. It was late and people were going to bed, maybe even with plans to leave for their Residencies upon hearing our news. Eventually the suburb was blacked out entirely.

Lizzy slumped down at a bus stop and ruffled Chess despondently.

‘Where the hell are they?' she said.

I sat down too. My legs were burning from all of the hills.

‘We'll look again when it's light. Shout the whole suburb down if we have to,' I replied.

Lizzy sighed and nodded.

‘Does that awesome watch of yours tell you the date too?' she asked.

I nodded.

‘We're into August now aren't we?' she asked.

‘Yeah,' I replied.

Lizzy exhaled and trudged over to the large, sombre looking mansion across from us. Chess glanced at me with something akin to worry and trailed after her. Lizzy was diminutive and beaten down, but also probably the toughest person I had ever met. I hoped this would hold out until we found Taylor and made it back to Carousel.

32

That night I remembered something as I slept. I woke early with just a breath of it still in my mind. Lizzy was asleep at the other end of the couch. I shuffled past her and found my way out of the house we had commandeered. The sky was arctic blue and dazzling morning sunlight twinkled down through the Norfolks. I squinted for a moment, then set off for the beach.

Cottesloe was neat and largely untouched by the Disappearance. I emerged from the houses and cafes to where the iconic surf club stood with its pastel walls and arches. Behind it the ocean fizzed with a clean winter swell. I stood on a bank of knee-high lawn and scanned the beach below. It was pristine and empty but for a bobbing array of abandoned kayaks by the groyne. I hesitated for a moment. To the south of this groyne was a long sweep of coast leading down towards Fremantle. Lines of gentle tumbling waves fanned out across each of the curving beaches. On the second of these, by a snaky
pathway through the dunes, lay a pair of towels on the sand.

I saw them in the water from halfway across the beach. They were sitting on their boards and chatting as blips of swell shifted beneath their dangling legs. Taylor's hair looked longer and tasselled about her face in salty clusters. Sophie was blonde and seemed tall from where I stood. She was laughing while Taylor's hands drifted about in conversation. They seemed at home with one another.

We'll find a house right out front of the best beach. Wire up some solar panels. Grow a garden. Teach ourselves how to surf
.

Taylor said this to me in a crappy apartment on the night of the fires. I had asked her about whether she could ever imagine just accepting things and settling down. About one day finding a place in this new world. Looking at them out in the surf I realised then that she had done exactly that.

A set rolled through and the pair of them paddled for a wave. Sophie missed it. Taylor slid down the face and stood upright for a moment, before tumbling into the whitewash. When she emerged she was staring straight at me.

I waved like an idiot and walked towards her. She stood in the shore break and continued to stare. Behind her Sophie had seen me now too.

‘Hey,' I yelled.

Taylor kicked off her leg-rope and trudged awkwardly towards me. She stopped a few metres away. Sophie hovered in the background.

‘Nox,' said Taylor.

‘Hi. Nice wave,' I replied.

‘Where were you?' she asked.

For a moment I was confused.

‘I looked everywhere for you in that place,' she added.

‘Oh. Yeah sorry. I got lost in a gaming room and couldn't get out,' I replied.

‘Why were you in a gaming room?' she asked.

‘Looking for water,' I replied.

‘And why couldn't you get out?' she asked.

‘My torch stopped working. It's pitch-black in those rooms without power,' I replied.

‘Did you see my note?' asked Taylor.

I nodded. ‘I waited there for you guys to come back.'

I was a bit taken aback by her barrage of questions.

Taylor took a breath and wiped her nose. It was hard to tell if she was crying or just wet from surf.

‘I mean, I wanted to go back. We just figured you must have left and I didn't know where else to look for you. Then me and Lizzy had a massive fight and I had to get away from that fucking Collective,' she said.

I stood there listening. Taylor seemed suddenly overcome with emotion.

‘I'm sorry, Nox,' she said, looking away. She was definitely crying now. Sophie put a hand on her shoulder
and gave me a friendly smile. She was tall and athletic looking. Her hair was the cropped blonde of an eighties exercise model.

‘It's cool, Taylor. I'm fine. I actually remembered what you said about the beach house and teaching ourselves to surf one day,' I said.

Taylor smiled and laughed a little.

‘We have the best house here, Nox. There are like hundreds of plants and vegetables. And an art studio. And rainwater. And so much solar power. Sophie wired up a hot-water system last week,' said Taylor in a flurry that wasn't really like her at all.

Sophie and I shared a slightly awkward smile.

‘Hi,' she said.

‘Hi,' I replied.

‘Will you stay for a while?' asked Taylor.

‘No,' I replied.

Taylor's expression dropped.

‘It sounds awesome, but we have to leave,' I said. ‘All of us.'

The two of them looked at me. Water dripped from their vital, pensive faces.

‘Why?' asked Taylor.

‘I found the Curator. He told me what's going on here. And when it's going to end,' I replied.

‘When is it going to end?' asked Sophie.

‘Soon. Just a few weeks from now,' I replied.

‘What's going to happen, Nox?' asked Taylor.

‘The Curator thinks that a portal is going to open. Actually, lots of portals – one for each Residency. He says that if we all get back to our Residencies in time, and we take the art we created there, the portals might take us home,' I replied.

Taylor and Sophie shared a glance. The three of us stood in silence as the ocean foamed at our ankles.

‘Is that fucking Chessboard?' asked Taylor.

I turned and saw the darting black and white coat ripping along the sand towards us. I couldn't help but smile at his beaming, toothy grin.

‘Yep,' I replied.

A figure emerged from the dunes behind him.

‘And Lizzy,' I added.

33

Sophie and I hung out for most of the day while Taylor and Lizzy did their best to reconcile.

Sophie was indeed a painter – still lifes, mostly – who hailed from Melbourne. I found out that she was actually in Perth on a residency at the time of the Disappearance. Her story was so meta that my brain physically twitched inside of my skull. I guess she was slightly awkward looking. Just in the way a tall model could be when you saw them for the first time in real life. But I felt at ease around her right away. Sophie was earnest, but didn't take herself too seriously and had a way of finishing each word to the very last syllable that was pretty endearing.

She showed me around the house they had made into their home. It wasn't the plushest place we had seen. Actually it was old and rambling. The original house was made of stone with a pitched iron roof and wooden floorboards. It had extensions jutting out all over. At the front was a dusty winter sunroom and porch. The north side had a long deck with chairs that peered out over the
ocean, but were hidden from the road by an overgrown hedge of rosemary. The extension on the south side was only half finished, but scheduled to be some more bedrooms and a bathroom.

The backyard was amazing. There was a massive studio kitted out with pottery gear, textiles and a stack of items gathered together by Sophie and Taylor. A roof of hanging grapevines covered a paved area with tables, chairs and an outdoor stove. Then there were the gardens. Sloping away from the house and terraced by giant pillars from a long-lost fishing jetty. I could see Taylor's touch all over. There was a grid of pipes running from a rainwater tank to irrigate the beds. Fresh seaweed mulch spread around delicate seedlings. Jars lined up and ready to preserve the last of the winter harvest.

I understood why Taylor and Sophie had chosen the place. With the stone and the gardens and the ocean, it had a permanent feel that was immediately reassuring given what was happening all around us. It wasn't going to be easy for them to leave.

‘In the afternoon we generally hang out in the sunroom at the front. It's warm there, even when the weather is bad,' said Sophie.

We were sitting down in the garden, while Taylor and Lizzy had been having it out inside.

‘It's an awesome place,' I replied.

The voices of the Finns softened and Sophie glanced over her shoulder.

‘Does Lizzy seem okay to you?' she asked.

‘She's edgier than normal, I think. Generally Lizzy just brushes stuff off. What will be will be, you know?' I replied.

She nodded. I considered plunging into the whole aurora jet business. Sophie was a good person and I felt like I could tell her most things. But all of that stuff still felt so dense and confusing. I was only just getting a handle on it myself.

‘Lizzy hasn't had a lot of things go her way since we got here. I think she's just over it now. She's ready to go home,' I added.

Sophie nodded and looked out over the garden. I hoped that she didn't feel implicated in anything I had said. That wasn't my intention. Plus I don't think Lizzy felt that way anyhow.

‘Taylor has so much guilt about you guys. And about Rocky,' she said.

‘Really?' I asked, surprised.

‘Yeah. I don't know if she realises, but she thrashes about like crazy when she sleeps. And whenever something nice happens, like we watch a great sunset, or something new pops up in the garden, or she likes something that I paint, Taylor can't stop herself from crying. It's awful,' said Sophie.

‘Wow,' I replied. ‘What a mess.'

Sophie smiled through a couple of tears.

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