Deeper Water (6 page)

‘I don’t really like cats,’ he said from behind me. It seemed a cold thing to say, and I half-turned to look at his face. We hadn’t washed the rock-paint off, and the ochre was drying, going pale in colour.

‘’Cause they kill the birds, right?’

‘They’re an environmental pest.’ His eyes were still fixed on the snake. ‘A menace.’

‘Cats have instincts. They follow them. It’s not their fault.’

Hamish’s lips were pressed together, hard.

‘When I was a girl, sometimes the farmers would drop strays off to me. Stray kittens, stray pups. Back when no one desexed their animals. I don’t know how they knew I’d look after them. They’d just drive up in their utes and drop them out the window. Sometimes they didn’t even say a word.’

‘Bet your mum loved that.’

‘Yeah, well, if we had too many we’d take them to the market and see if we could find someone who wanted them. Usually someone did.’

‘Sounds like you ran your own animal shelter.’

‘Not really, just sometimes.’ I thought of Old Dog, of the muted slapping of her tail-wag, and wondering how much longer she would last. Crouching down to get a closer look at the snake, I tried to push the thought out of my mind. The snake was bright and shiny in the dappled light.

‘Anja is crazy about snakes,’ I said over my shoulder.

‘Yeah?’

‘She’s always kept them as pets, all different sorts.’

Hamish stepped forward and out of the corner of my eye I could see him rub his collarbone the way he did when he was anxious.

‘Her dad made her all these cages, but none of them were exactly tight, so they were always escaping. Sometimes when I was younger, I’d stay at her place and a snake would escape and I’d wake up in the middle of the night with it wrapped around my legs. It was a bit creepy.’

I never stayed up there anymore, but it wasn’t because of the snakes. Anja’s dad had gotten worse. You could never tell how he would be.

‘That sounds … bizarre.’

‘Yeah. I’d have to wake Anja up so she could unwind it.’

He looked sceptical, as if I was making up stories. Lots of things about Anja were hard to believe once you said them out loud. Like when she found a dead animal, she liked to skin it and dry the skins out in the sun. I guessed that was something it was best not to mention.

‘Do you think this snake has just shed?’ I asked, turning to look at Hamish. The orche paint was starting to crack.

‘I’m not much of an expert on snakes.’

‘You’re an environmentalist, right?’

‘I haven’t done a lot of fieldwork.’ He reached out and plucked a leaf from a tree, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I specialised in communication systems. You know, how they affect the dissemination of information? That type of thing. I don’t come from a biological background.’

He looked so serious.

‘Are you talking computers again, Hamish?’

I watched the leaf in his hand.

‘No, not only computers. It’s a bit complicated. What I studied back at uni was the way information spread, and which kinds of information are more likely to instigate change. It’s not something I really use now I do the consulting.’

He tossed the leaf into the air and it fluttered to the ground. The snake stayed curled up tightly. There was no sign it even knew we were there.

‘So, what did you do when the snake got your cat?’ Hamish finally asked. ‘Could you get it off?’

‘It was awful really. I loved that cat—Isis—and knew she was dying, but all I could do was scream. I guess I went into shock. Mum was in town and there was no one around, and I couldn’t make myself do anything. Anja must have heard me screaming from up on the mountain because she came tearing down.’

Even though it was a bad story I smiled when I thought of Anja bursting through the trees.

‘It took her ages to unwrap the snake ’cause it was so tightly wound. It kept striking at her hand the whole time, sinking in its fangs. It was crazy. She got a lot of bites, but she got the snake off, put it in a pillow case. Isis was dead though.’

Hamish just looked at me, didn’t say a word.

‘Anja tried to resuscitate her. She’d done CPR at school.’

‘She gave the cat CPR?’

‘Yep, but it didn’t work.’

I stood up from where I was crouched over the snake. ‘Anja dug a hole and helped me bury Isis, and then we let the snake go out in the bush.’

Hamish raised his eyebrows, nodding. Behind all the pale ochre I couldn’t really tell what he was thinking.

‘Did she get an infection—from all the bites?’

‘No, she was worried about me ’cause I’d screamed so much, so she came down the mountain and stayed with us. She looked after me, and I looked after her bites.’ I moved away from the snake, closer to where he was standing. ‘Kept them clean, put some cream on. She was fine.’

‘She sounds like your knight in shining armour.’

‘Yeah, I guess she is.’ I hadn’t thought about it that way. ‘Anja is a lot of things.’

Pointing to a gap in the trees, he stepped towards it, back out into the sunshine of the paddocks.

‘I vote we go around the snake,’ he said, taking the lead.

I took one last look at the bright skin of the python and then I followed.

When we got back to the secret tree neither of us felt like riding the creek again, so we grabbed our clothes and re-stashed the boards. The paddock walk was hot and Hamish had turned a little pink.

‘I think you’re sunburnt,’ I said and touched his shoulder.

‘Probably.’ He looked down at his body. ‘It doesn’t take much.’

‘We should have smothered you in mud.’

‘What?’

‘Sun protection.’ I grinned. ‘You’ll probably get stripy suntan marks around the face-paint.’

‘Sunburn marks, you mean.’ He touched his fingers to his face. ‘I hope not.’

‘You could jump in the creek and wash it off,’ I said, tilting my head towards the water.

Hamish looked at the creek for a few seconds. ‘Maybe I’d rather have a shower, if that’s okay. But you jump in if you want.’

I waded back into the creek, the water inching up my thighs. It was wider here, and the flow was gentle where I was. More like a lazy river than a tumbling creek. Facing the current, I closed my eyes and let my hands drop so they were hanging in the flow. There were all different ways I liked getting into the water. Sometimes fast, diving straight under, so my whole body tingled in shock, and sometimes slow, so that by the time I was immersed my body could hardly tell itself from the water. I waded out real slow and let the water flow up around me. When it was deep and it hardly felt cold, I ducked under and pushed against the current. My hair flowed out behind me, the water tugging at my plait. I resurfaced and pulled the elastic off the end, unravelling my hair and going back under. Staying under as long as my breath would hold, I didn’t burst up for air, but drifted to the surface. I liked to imagine I could breathe under water.

I went under again and this time my breath held longer. When I came up I could hear someone calling my name from the other side of the bank. I looked up, brushing the water from my eyes. It was Billy.

‘Hey, Mema,’ he said, lifting up his council shirt and wiping the sweat from his face.

‘Hey.’

Billy looked from me to Hamish, staring hard, and Hamish lifted his arm in acknowledgement.

‘What you doing?’ Billy called out, though I guess it must have been obvious.

He was a good few metres away, so it was hard for me to hear. I didn’t want to swim closer to him ’cause the current in the middle was stronger.

‘Just having a swim.’

‘Who’s the guy?’ He motioned to Hamish with his head.

‘That’s Hamish.’

‘I never seen him before.’

From what I knew of him, Billy was alright, but he wasn’t the type to beat around the bush.

‘He’s not from around here.’ I shrugged. It was hard to explain about Hamish.

Billy looked hot, and I wondered if he wanted a swim. I didn’t know if I should ask him.

‘What you doing here?’ I asked instead, thinking he must be working somewhere nearby.

‘Tree came down in the rain. Blocked off Old Gordon’s driveway.’ He kept looking across at Hamish while he talked. ‘He can’t get out. Asked me to chop it up.’

‘The creek’s still over the bridge here.’ I squeezed the water from my hair. ‘Did many trees come down?’

‘A few about the place.’

‘Any damage?’

‘Nah, not really.’ He peered at me intently. ‘What you got on your face?’

I realised I hadn’t rubbed the paint off yet.

‘It’s just some ochre, you know?’ I splashed water up to my face, trying to rub it off. ‘Painting-rocks.’

Billy didn’t say anything, just watched me. It was making me feel funny, the way he stared. My nipples tightened beneath my shirt and I hoped he didn’t notice. I crossed my arms over my chest.

‘Well,’ he looked at Hamish one more time, ‘I guess I’d better get back.’

Turning around, Billy headed off across the paddock. He must have seen us from a mile away and come to check us out. My cheeks were hot and I dipped down one more time, scrubbing my face underwater. Since Billy had asked me out, seeing him got under my skin. I didn’t know quite what it was, but something about him made me feel more alert, sensitised. I guess I was conscious of being watched in a way I wasn’t used to.

I swam back to the bank and stepped up on the grass.

‘Billy,’ I said, though Hamish hadn’t asked.

He didn’t reply but looked across the paddock to where Billy had disappeared.

‘You think if I swam across now, he’d give me a lift into town?’

I knew Hamish didn’t like being stuck with us but I suppose I’d expected him to wait for the water to go down, ’cause when he said that my stomach dropped.

‘Probably,’ I said, looking at the ground.

He was silent a minute, weighing up his options. ‘But if I stay one more night you’ll drive me in tomorrow?’

‘Yep, we’d be going in anyway to get supplies.’

‘Your mum doesn’t mind, does she? She doesn’t seem to like me much.’

I didn’t know what to say about Mum. ‘She’s okay. You know, she’s just … like that.’

He thought for a minute longer, still deliberating.

‘Okay.’ He finally nodded at me. ‘One more night.’

I smiled and pulled my skirt off the tree, swinging it over my arm. I didn’t want him to disappear just like that.

‘Come on, flood guy, let’s head back.’ It was hard to hide my happiness, though something told me I should. He stood up beside me and we wandered back towards the house. The grass was springy beneath my feet. I marvelled at how flattened it got in a flood but how quickly it righted itself. Everything stretching out towards the sun.

‘That guy Billy likes you, Mema.’ Hamish nudged his arm against my shoulder. ‘He thinks you’re hot.’

I felt myself go red. No one I knew used that word.
Hot
. It sounded odd, hanging in the air between us. I thought of how he’d described Anja yesterday—
built like a thoroughbred
—appraising her like horseflesh at a market. There was something about it that wasn’t quite right.

‘Mema?’

‘He asked me out a little while back.’ I couldn’t tell him about the chook joke.

‘Where would you go around here on a date?’ He gazed across the open paddocks with their smattering of trees.

‘You haven’t been into town yet,’ I said. ‘There’s a pub and stuff. Couple of shops. Or—I don’t know—you could go further afield, go out to the movies.’

‘Did you go out with him?’

It sounded offhand but I could feel him waiting for my answer.

I looked at the ground. ‘Nah.’ I wasn’t sure how to express it. ‘He isn’t my type.’

‘What’s your type, Mema?’

Up until that point I’d had no type. Hamish was glancing at me sideways and I wondered if he was teasing me.

‘I don’t really …’ I could feel my face getting hotter, ‘… do boys.’

He looked startled. ‘Girls?’

I shook my head. ‘No, just not anyone really.’

‘Oh.’ He glanced away from my face.

We walked for a bit in silence.

‘You’ve never done it? Not even once?’

I shook my head. I guessed it might seem odd—I wasn’t a child, after all.

‘How many times have you?’

‘I don’t know, Mema. Too many to count. I’m a guy.’

‘How many different girls?’

Hamish shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I don’t remember, exactly.’

My mind flashed with visions of unknown women, all different but somehow the same. Unmemorable. ‘How could you not remember them?’

‘Lots of guys wouldn’t remember everyone they’ve slept with. Ask young Billy next time, he’ll tell you.’

This was hard to comprehend, but with all the things I’d been told about men, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. I stored that information deep within me, best brought out and examined at another time.

‘But you’re still pretty young, Mema,’ Hamish mused, looking at me again. ‘I forget, ’cause you’re a bit …’

My whole body seemed to lean towards him, listening for the next word.

‘Unusual,’ he said finally.

‘You think I’m weird?’ I guess I was insulted.

‘No, not weird, a bit different from other women your age, maybe.’

‘Right.’ I wasn’t sure where to put that sentence. He’d said it once before, but this time I didn’t know where to store it.

‘I really like you, Mema, don’t get me wrong.’ He leaned towards me, nudging me again with his shoulder. ‘You saved my life, remember. You’re
my
knight in shining armour.’

I had to smile. ‘We already worked that out. A man for a calf. We’re even.’

‘If you say so.’

My house appeared in the distance, shimmering in the sun. It was always peculiar seeing it from a distance when usually you were inside. I wondered if Mum had finished in the shed, if she’d be pottering around making lunch. This far away the house looked gracious, like a homestead, but when you got up close you could see the wear and tear. I had always loved it, filled with the familiar, but it was different imagining it through Hamish’s eyes. So many things were. I felt suddenly self-conscious, and even though I was still damp I stopped a minute to put on my skirt. Hamish kept walking.

‘Your foot doesn’t stop you,’ he called back. ‘It’s pretty amazing.’

‘I guess.’ I flicked my wet hair back over my shoulder. ‘I’ve got special boots and everything, you know, for walking in town, but I never seem to need them around here.’

Maybe it was because I’d been walking this land for so long, but I always felt it accommodated me. That there was a way to walk through it without being off balance, that the land somehow came to my aid—shored up all my weak points. In town I became clumsy, as though all the straight lines and pavements tripped me up. The world became even, no undulations, and I became off centre.

Mum was still in the shed when we went inside and I gave Hamish a towel for the shower. The clothes he arrived in were so covered in birth gunk they’d gone mouldy in the rain. In any case, the jumper was a write-off from the beginning. He was looking pretty scrappy, and I figured I should try to find him something better to wear, now the lights were back on and I could have a proper look. Having four brothers, you’d think we’d have a few old things lying around, but the truth was, I don’t think they ever had much.

I was kneeling on the floor of the storeroom, peering into some of the bottom drawers, searching, when I heard steps behind me.

‘Mema?’ It was Hamish.

I turned around. He’d had the quickest shower on earth.

‘I think I need your help.’

I grabbed an old pair of board shorts and a shirt and scrambled up, looking for clues on his face.

‘With what?’

‘Can you come and see?’

I followed him into the bathroom and he pointed at the shower recess. There were a couple of cane toads in the corner.

‘Yeah, those guys are always there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They like it. The wetness.’ I hadn’t tied up my hair yet, and as I moved it kept flopping forward across my shoulders. It was slippery, my hair, that’s why I liked to keep it plaited. ‘I don’t even know how they get in here. They’re not supposed to be able to, but I think they jump up the stairs.’

‘What should I do with them?’ he asked me. ‘Have you got something to kill them with?’

Even though I knew everyone hates cane toads, I still felt myself suck in a breath.

‘We don’t ever kill them,’ I said. ‘But I’ll get the broom and move them if they bother you.’

He shifted on his feet and I could tell he was disturbed.

‘Mema, they’re cane toads. You have to kill them.’ In the closeness of the bathroom I could see his jaw clenching. ‘Don’t you have a plastic bag? I’ll put them in the freezer. They won’t feel a thing.’

‘No.’

I’d been showering with those toads for years. They weren’t going in the freezer.

‘Cats are bad, Mema, but cane toads are the worst.’ I could feel his frustration. ‘Anyway, you can’t just leave them in the shower.’

‘They’ll keep out of your way.’

We stood there locked in an awful silence, staring into the shower. The cane toads seemed to know they were under scrutiny, ’cause they pressed further into the corner, flattening themselves on the tiles.

‘Look,’ I broke the silence, ‘I know cane toads are bad and everyone kills them. It’s a sport around here—cane-toad hockey, cane-toad golf, cane-toad musters—but they’re still animals, Hamish. It’s not like they introduced themselves.’

‘You can’t argue for a cane toad’s life,’ Hamish said. ‘They eat everything, and then the things that eat them die from their poison. They are wiping out whole species at an incredible rate.’

I knew all that. There was no way you could grow up around here and not know all about the history of cane toads, home-schooled or not.

‘You’re not putting them in the freezer.’

Anja’s dad kept a piece of old pipe handy at all times especially for eradicating toads. They were exceptionally hard to kill. I’d seen him bludgeon them for ten minutes at a time and then watched them try to hop away. Something about the violence of it always made me feel ill.

When I was small Anja and I used to catch tadpoles in the creek and watch them grow their legs and drop their tails. Sometimes they turned into little brown frogs, and other times they turned into little brown toads, but the thing was—you couldn’t tell the difference when they were tadpoles. We’d spend weeks tending them and watching them grow only to find we’d raised the enemy. And then we’d be left with the sticky question of what to do with our babies once they’d grown. We couldn’t toss them onto the road to get squashed, or put them in the freezer to die slowly. We’d grown attached. So in the end we’d sneak off quietly and let them go. Before anyone could stop us.

Looking at Hamish I could tell none of that was going to make sense to him. His face was closed, stern. The bathroom felt small, like there wasn’t room for both of us.

‘I came across a woman standing on the bridge once, leaning over the rail,’ I said, feeling that sudden helplessness of misunderstanding rising up inside me. ‘She was weeping. She used to live in a caravan under one of the big trees. I stopped and asked her what was wrong, and she pointed down at the water.’

Hamish didn’t speak.

‘She’d found a rat’s nest filled with little pink babies and she’d thrown them into the water. But she couldn’t leave. She just stood there crying. You could see their little bodies in the shallows, drowned and still.’