Crossfire (12 page)

Luke was angered by Alison's savage contempt for his father, but there was fear with his anger, a dread that hid in the darkness. If only he could see it he would no longer be afraid. He heard himself saying, ‘You don't want me to be like him, but you're trying to make me into a copy of yourself instead.' The thoughts tumbled into his head as he spoke them. He was discovering two parents he had never seen before and he recoiled from them both. ‘I'm your second chance,' he shouted, ‘and you don't want there to be any foul-ups this time. That's not fair. I'm not Dad and I'm not you. I've got news for you both. I'm me, Luke Aldridge, and I'm not going to be a copy of anyone!'

Suddenly, Luke couldn't bare to stay in the house another minute. He stomped down the back stairs and swung round the post, almost falling over his bike. That was it. He hadn't ventured away from these few square metres since his mother was discharged from hospital; now it was time to get away for a while. He needed to feel the hard seat beneath him, to lean over the handle bars and feel the wind snatching at his hair. He yanked the bike upright, mounted it and pedalled into the street. It was a few minutes before he realised that he was automatically making for CT's place.

twelve

CT welcomed him enthusiastically. ‘How'd the trip go? What'd you kill?'

‘Got a couple of rabbits. That's all,' said Luke without interest.

CT interpreted this as nonchalance. ‘Did you bag any pigs?'

‘Not me. Dad and the others, sure.'

Normally, CT would have insisted on details, a prospect Luke dreaded, but now he knew, just from watching his friend's face, that CT was up to something. Excitement was blowing up so big inside him he was sure to split open at any moment. There was no need to lower your voice in CT's house when you didn't want to be overheard. His parents never seemed to be about. But on this occasion CT couldn't help himself. ‘I've got another gun,' he whispered proudly.

Luke winced before he could stop himself, but CT was so absorbed by his own good fortune that he didn't notice.

‘What do you mean, you've got another gun?'

‘It's a twenty-two, same as Dad's. Come on, I'll show you. It's a bit old, but that doesn't matter.' CT hurried out through the back door, leaving Luke to follow whether he wanted to or not.

‘That's ridiculous, CT,' Luke called after him, but he had to rush through the doorway to be heard.

CT's house was much older than the Aldridge's, designed before the average family owned a car. For this reason, a garage had been built years ago in a corner of the backyard and it was to this shabby wooden structure that CT now strode with purpose. He stopped halfway across the yard to look back. ‘Come on!'

CT had disappeared into the darkness of the old garage by the time Luke arrived. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust after the harsh sunlight of the backyard. He could hear CT rummaging about. The building was no longer used to house the car, which was generally parked in the street outside the house. Instead, the old garage was used to store all the items that the family no longer needed but couldn't bare to throw away. A dozen worn tyres were piled on top of the ancient lounge suite that CT's parents had discarded years ago. CT's old high chair was there and the engineless frame of a motor-mower. The place was a dusty dump.

‘Look, after what happened, neither of us should be seen with a plastic pop gun,' Luke called into the gloom. Deep amongst the junk, he could make out CT stretching full-length to reach behind a disused cupboard. He brought out a long thin parcel wrapped in a dirty cloth. Close to the wide doorway was a rickety table on which CT laid down his prize, which he handled as though it was a newborn baby. Lovingly he folded back the material.

‘Bloody hell!' exclaimed Luke as he surveyed the outline of the twenty-two. ‘Where'd you get it?'

A smile of satisfaction covered every inch of CT's face. ‘You'll never believe me,' he said. ‘Garage sale.'

‘Garage sale? You mean to tell me you just walked in and bought this at a garage sale?'

‘Just luck, I 'spose. You know how I'm always going off to garage sales,' CT began. He was settling in for a long story and he was going to enjoy telling every bit of it. It was certainly true that CT haunted garage sales. He was worse than his parents. At least their only problem was that they couldn't bear to part with anything, but CT actually went out and found more rubbish to bring home. It usually ended up in this dark and dusty shed.

CT told his story. ‘Me and Jimmy Pascoe took our bikes up to Garrett Road where all the hills are. We were going to get a good run down the slopes. Then I saw this handmade Garage Sale sign with the arrow on it. I made Jimmy come with me and we went in and had a look — and there it was. This twenty-two. It's not in the best condition, I got to admit, but the owner knew it too. He had a tag on it for twenty-five dollars. Jimmy had a ten dollar note on him and I had five dollars sixty-three, so we tried to beat him down. We said fifteen dollars. He wouldn't come down at first but eventually he said twenty dollars, but he wouldn't come any further. We showed him every cent we had, the whole fifteen dollars sixty-three, but he still wouldn't budge so we went back to our bikes. I was going to ride home and get the rest. Then what do you think happens? The bloke's wife's been watching the whole show and as we're leaving, she gets stuck into him. ‘What do you care about a few bucks for that lump of rust,' she says and next thing she brings the rifle out to us and takes the fifteen dollars sixty-three!'

Luke inspected the gun. By now his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. ‘A lump of rust' the owner's wife had called it, and she was right. The exterior of the barrel was rough with a scaly rust which left the familiar reddish-brown stain when you ran your hand along it. God only knew what the inside was like.

‘CT, this gun is pretty dangerous, all dirty like this. It hasn't been cared for at all. What are you going to do with it?'

‘Shoot, of course!'

‘But where?' asked Luke. ‘You can't go back to the bush beyond Whannell Road. Everyone knows about that now. They'd catch you the first day.'

‘Yeah, I know it's too risky up there. Don't worry. I've thought it all out. A few kilometres along the highway they're starting to clear the bush for a new housing estate. Jimmy Pascoe's dad works on the bulldozers down there and Jimmy says his father's seen plenty of little wallabies. Forget shooting at cans. We're going to hunt those wallabies!'

This was the first time CT had mentioned Luke as part of his plans. He clearly intended Luke to join him in these excursions to the new housing estate and what's more, CT, bored with their old games, was desperate to shoot at live targets. The hard knot in Luke's stomach tightened. It was the same feeling that had gripped him as he sat by the campfire listening to Tom's story.

‘Look, CT. I don't want to use your gun and I don't want to go shooting with you,' said Luke bluntly

‘Why not? If you're worried about the gun being safe, forget it. We can clean it till it's like new before we try anything.'

‘No, it's not that.'

CT was becoming agitated. He'd expected his mate to share his enthusiasm, to congratulate him on his clever acquisition. With a touch of harshness in his voice he said: ‘This may not be as powerful or as shiny as your father's gun, Luke, but it's good enough for us.'

‘No, CT, I'm not going shooting with you. It's not right.'

‘Not right!' shouted CT. ‘Not right! What are you talking about? Who's just been out west knocking off wild pigs and rabbits and stuff? Besides, I need you Luke. I haven't got any bullets for this yet and I can hardly go into a gun shop and ask for some, can I? Your Dad must have plenty of ammo for a gun like this. He used to have a twenty-two. You could take some — he wouldn't even miss it.'

Luke did not even hesitate this time. ‘No, I'm not going to pinch any ammo for you, CT.' There was little chance CT would miss the contempt in his voice.

‘But Luke, this is the chance we've been waiting for. What's the matter with you? You don't seem to care a bit about this gun.'

‘I'm going home. See you,' said Luke. He turned and headed straight out of the garage, then along the side of the house towards where his bike lay. But CT was angry that his plans were falling apart. He followed Luke, shouting: ‘I didn't think you would turn into a wimp, Luke Aldridge, but that's what's happened. Whatever happened to ‘Armalite Aldridge'? What about that, eh? You know what's the matter with you — you've gone gutless. I bet you didn't shoot a thing out west! I bet you didn't have the nerve.'

Luke cycled hard until CT's house was out of sight. Thank God, his mate — or was it former mate — had decided not to follow him. Once sure of this, he slowed down, pedalling more easily, then pulled into a small park built on an odd-shaped block of land that no one had wanted to live on. The local Apex Club had erected a swing and a see-saw, both of which had been vandalised, but the trees the Club had planted had survived. Luke brought his bike to a halt in the shade of the tallest and lay down to look at the sky.

He'd stopped because he didn't really know where to steer his bike. There was certainly no point in heading back to CT's house. His father's home held no attraction and would offer no welcome. He would have to go home, to his mother's house, just to eat and sleep. She would still be angry, there would be a scene. If Belinda was there they would gang up on him as they always did, and he wouldn't be able to fight back. He was defenceless because he was protecting something, hiding it, keeping a secret from his mother. He was like a boxer who must fend off blows to an injured part of his body, unable to hit back for fear of exposing his vulnerability. And it would go on like that for as long as he was afraid that his mother would find out about the hunting trip. He was being pulled and pushed from either side, buffeted about without direction. Not even his friends would understand. He had no one to talk to, no one to ask. He was completely alone.

He had heard that phrase, ‘completely alone' just recently. Who else had spoken of being completely alone? Of course, it was that jackaroo, Tom, who had killed the sheep then joined the hunting party around the fire to tell his devastating story. He'd been alone, chased along that narrow track in the jungle by the young Viet Cong soldier. In the end he had refused to let the threat of death and the fear drive him on any farther. He had turned and charged back, meeting the danger with courage and audacity. And he had come through.

Suddenly Luke knew what to do. Then he was on his bike and pumping hard at the pedals. He didn't want to allow himself the chance to reconsider, knowing that if he stopped to think it through his courage would crumble before the fear of what might happen.

His hard riding brought him quickly to his destination. He dropped his bike on the front lawn and marched straight up to the front door, knocking loudly when normally he would go inside barely announcing his arrival. Luke could feel vibrations through his feet as footsteps approached the door from inside the house, and then the door swung open.

After a pause, the figure in the doorway said, ‘I didn't expect to see you for a while.'

‘I have to talk to you. There's something I have to tell you,' said Luke seriously.

‘Come in then,' came the invitation and the pair made their way inside.

Luke dared not hesitate. He needed to spit out what he was holding inside before it melted away and became unreachable. ‘Last week I went hunting with my father,' he said.

‘I know,' said Alison Aldridge softly.

‘You know!' gasped Luke.

Alison moved into the lounge room, where she flopped into the only comfortable chair. ‘Come and sit down,' she said calmly, waving towards the sofa. ‘Luke, I've known you went out west with Wayne since before I came home from hospital.'

‘But how!'

‘From your grandparents, of course. I could always tell when your grandmother was lying. Unlike your father, she lies very poorly, especially when she's been put up to it by her son. You'd think she would be used to it by now. She's been covering up for Wayne now for an awfully long time. Poor thing. When you didn't come to see me in hospital at all, didn't even telephone me from your grandparents, I knew something was wrong. You are a better son than that, Luke. Each time I called she said you were out doing something or other — gone to the movies, gone skating — and each time I asked that you'd ring me when you returned. And of course no call came. Well, you can get away with that a few times but then the excuse starts to wear thin. I challenged her and she admitted that you were with your father. It didn't need much guesswork from me to realise exactly where.'

‘Mum, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone.'

‘Too right you shouldn't have gone,' snapped Alison. ‘With a brainless bunch like your father and his mates you could have had your head blown off.' She was warming up.

Luke felt his body become tense, his fingers curl into his hands, his feet press hard into the floor, and realised that he was bracing himself for the onslaught. But he hadn't come home just to tell the truth and then have his mother berate him as a kind of punishment. He heard his own voice saying: ‘Mum, it can't always be the way you want it to be. Give me a chance. Sure I went along, but it turned out differently from what I expected. Different from what you might think. I didn't like what Dad was doing out there. It made me sick. Just like you said, he was carrying on like a kid. It was all wrong.'

This little speech took Alison by surprise. She had expected Luke to defend his presence on the hunting trip, but she had not expected him to criticise his father, to have seen in him the very qualities which she herself had come to despise.

As she was to discover, Luke's new vision of his parents was not confined to his father.

‘But what about you?' He turned on her. ‘You just want me to sit around, do my homework and be a bloody saint. And that's not right either. You're asking too much. I'm sorry about the gun and getting suspended. But it's not the end of the world. And I shouldn't have gone with Dad out west, yet if I hadn't gone I wouldn't have found out what it felt like to kill an animal. I wouldn't know how bad it made me feel. And if I hadn't gone along I would never have heard this bloke named Tom tell his story about being chased like a wild animal when he was in Vietnam. You've got to give me a chance to find out things for myself.'

Luke had never spoken to his mother like this, never argued with her, never challenged her. He was in new territory now and he simply didn't know how she would react. In her face he had seen the anger building as he spoke but he detected uncertainty as well. Normally she would have cut him off, not allowing him to speak, but now she had let him go on, and she listened to every word. Luke thought he could see tears gathering behind his mother's eyes. One last thought came bubbling into his mind. ‘I thought you'd understand. You made mistakes when you were young. You should know what it's like.'