Floundering (4 page)

I wake up, and I’ve dribbled a large wet patch onto the pillow. Bert is parked at a rest stop with a toilet block that stands out like a baby’s tooth. Loretta and Jordy aren’t in the car or anywhere I can see. I throw the pillow across the seat and open the door, stumble out. My legs are asleep. I punch them, Come on, legs. I’ve got no idea how many days we’ve been driving.

Loretta, I say and hobble towards the toilets, Loretta? A semi goes past so loud it sucks my voice from the air. Loretta?

She comes out the ladies side of the block. What? What? she says. Can’t I get a moment’s peace?

She’s changed into a dress. It’s floral and floats around her as she walks. She combs her streaky hair back into a ponytail with her fingers, an elastic in her mouth, then ties it up on top of her head. She does a twirl and puts her arms out. She looks
beautiful, like how I remember her from before we were at Gran and Pa’s the first time, when we lived in a house and Dad still lived with us.

When we left Dad, I remember being carried to the car – a different one to Bert – late at night. I must have been much smaller because I’d never let her carry me now. When I woke up again she was standing out by the road, surrounded by sugar cane, and she was howling and crying into the night. I could hear the sugar cane hushing her, the dry stalks rubbing against each other.

After that we lived in a little apartment where you could hear someone wee in the toilet from every room. And Loretta wore her dressing gown like a second skin for what seemed like years. But before that she would always wear summer dresses with bare legs and she would sing while she did the washing-up, and she would put too much dishwashing liquid in there and slap the suds together in her hands and the bubbles would go everywhere.

What do you think? she says. But I don’t say anything because I’m still thinking about everything, and how we came to be here by another road, without even the sugar cane to comfort us. She crunches on the gravel over to me. She crouches down and looks me in the eye.

Ya got pillow scars, she says and touches my cheek. Pretty tough.

Where’s Jordy?

She flicks her head to the toilet block and I leave her there in the gravel to go check.

There’s phone numbers and swear words written all over the
bricks, a mirror that’s really just shiny metal and buckled. In the middle of the door there’s a round hole. I look through it. Jordy is sitting in there. Framed by the hole.

Whatcha doin? I say.

What do you reckon?

A poo?

Go away, you pervert. Bloody pervy perve. Get lost.

I am not a perve.

Piss off, perve.

I’m not a perve, Jordy, I’m not.

Well, go away then, you perve.

I’m not a perve.

I get out of there. Loretta has disappeared again. I walk slowly around the back of Bert and she’s down in its shadow. I get down there with her and it’s much cooler. We wait for ages for Jordy. We wait so long I need to do a wee and I go and piss in a crack right down into the centre of the earth.

When he comes out Loretta asks him, Mission accomplished? Like we’re all on this journey into outer space to fight aliens, and Jordy gives her a look, looks away.

Mission aborted, huh, she says.

We know we’re coming to a proper town ‘cos the radio works again. Loretta flicks it on and searches until she finds a song she likes – and sings it. Bert’s antenna is a coat hanger in the wonky shape of a heart.

I love driving, she says and winds her window all the way down, sticks her hand out, catches the wind in her palm. She’s singing and she goes to Jordy, Do you know this one?

He shakes his head. Come on, sing with me, she says
and starts dancing in her seat. Sing it.

No, he says and I start to laugh.

She sings and her voice is sweet and clear. Her hair is blowing everywhere. Dancing.

I see Jordy has to look away ‘cos he can’t stop a smile creeping to the corners of his lips but Loretta’s seen. She smiles too. You know, I’ve been singing in a band.

Really? When? I say. I lean right over the seat to have a proper look at her – like she could be different with this new information. What did you sing?

Oh, you know, songs. She sticks her tongue out at me.

I laugh. No, really?

Rock and roll, guitars and stuff.

Did you play guitar?

Nup, I just sang.

Can you sing one of the songs?

No, she squeals and giggles. Too embarrassing.

Please.

No, absolutely not.

Please.

No. I’ll sing this one, though. She leans and turns the radio up. Her skin looks golden in the sun. She sings really loud. I look at Jordy and when he sees me looking he starts to laugh. I laugh then and I can’t stop. I laugh until it hurts and she’s still singing but softer now, under her breath.

There is a town and we drive straight up its guts. It has a McDonald’s but Loretta won’t stop.

We’re getting closer, she says. It’ll ruin everything if we stop now.

And that town is gone as quick as it came. There is dirt and paddocks, but there’re trees now, even though it’s still dry. Then without warning things change and it’s greener and there are birds.

There’re signs towards a city but Loretta doesn’t follow them. We skirt around the city, and for a while there are houses close together, made of bricks, with letterboxes. What’s weird is that they seem strange, when they’re the most normal things.

Oh my god, Loretta says.

What? I say, and look around for what’s getting us. But nothing is getting us, she’s excited, not frightened. Then I see it, an ocean that’s a whole new one from Gran and Pa’s ocean.

She stops the car and I fling forward. My stomach jumps. The seatbelt catches me, choking hard against my neck.

The ocean, she squeals.

I adjust the seatbelt and start to laugh because I can’t help it. She drives into a carpark that’s right on the beach. The salt in the air smells nice.

Holy shit, look at that, she says. She jumps out of the car giggling and leans over the wooden railing. The wind blows her dress up. Come on. Let’s go for a swim. Do you wanna? She turns back to look at us and a couple with a dog walk past. The man leans down and whispers something in the woman’s ear and she looks at Loretta and laughs. Jordy shrinks down in his seat. The man links his hand with the woman’s. Their dog pulls them forward by the lead.

We don’t have any swimmers, I say from inside the car.

Don’t be silly, that doesn’t matter, you can swim in your shorts. I get out of the car to stop her yelling across the carpark.
But they’re my school shorts.

So? I’ll go in my underwear, fair’s fair. She’s already walking down to the beach, slipping off her shoes at the soft sand and leaving her clothes in a little pile at the seaweed line.

Jordy gets out of the car.

It’s hot, he says and walks onto the beach, ducking under the railing.

Yeah, I say. I follow him. I pull my shirt off and it feels like I’ve been skinned. Our three pairs of shoes are together on the sand. Jordy’s and my school shoes look bulky as blocks.

Loretta walks into the surf, she looks back at us, and the wind blows her hair in front of her face. She’s wearing baggy undies and a bra that looks grey. Her feet are in the water. Come on, she yells, it’s beautiful.

Jordy laughs with the sun in his eyes. We walk to the edge. There’s seaweed that’s like beads on a plastic necklace. I notice a new tattoo at the small of Loretta’s back. Jordy walks into the waves and dives under the first one that comes. Loretta’s still near the edge jumping over each little wave and gasping as she gets deeper, the waves taking her breath away. The water is cool and foamy over my feet. I look back and check on our stuff, and I can see the nose of Bert from here.

Come on. We’ll dive under the next one, alright, she says to me. When she grabs my hand hers is wet. She pulls me in. It’s deeper for me. A wave comes, and she jumps over it.

The next one, she says laughing. The next one comes.

No, the next one. This one for sure, okay? Ready? She holds my hand tight and we dive under together. In the cold I can still feel the warmth of her hand in mine. I keep my eyes closed
tight. There is a safe place where the wave isn’t even touching us. It’s silent and the moment seems to last forever. She pulls me up and I take a breath. I wipe my eyes and look at her. Her hair is dark and slicked and her eyes look too big. There’s shiny teeth in her grin.

How about that, she says. The next wave slaps us both in the chest.

She sits on her dress, still in her undies, on the sand. She lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag. Jordy’s down by the water.

This is the life, eh. She ruffles my hair.

What’s this mean, I say and touch the new tattoo. She jumps.

Nothing.

But it’s new.

Yeah.

But why’d you get it? She looks down at me, but her face is silhouetted black by the sun.

Sometimes things only make sense while you’re doing them. Afterwards, it’s a mystery.

Jordy walks up. She puts her butt out in the sand. Come on, let’s get a wriggle on. She gets up, shakes her dress and sand goes all over me. I pick her butt up and put it in my pocket. Brush the sand off me.

Goody-two-shoes, he says to me.

What?

The butt.

I finger it in my pocket. It could be anything.

What butt? I say.

He chokes out a laugh. I smile.

I walk up the beach and the sand is deep and difficult. I see Loretta slip her dress back on. Her arms and head popping out so it looks like she’s being born again.

I pick up my shirt and shoes and climb back under the rail.

Feels good, hey, she says and stretches her arms up in the air.

Uhuh, I say.

Jordy’s still down there on the sand.

Loretta calls him. Jordy. Jordy.

He looks up at us but doesn’t come.

Jordy, she yells. Her voice doesn’t echo, it just floats on out to sea.

My shorts are stiff with salt. I pick at them. I look at my bare feet. The supermarket floor feels cool. They are red and blistered from wearing my school shoes since forever. After the beach I just pushed my shoes deep under the seat. There’s still sand on my feet. I rub them together, try get it off. There’s a shelf with tons of thongs, all different sizes, double pluggers with white where the foot goes. I check there’s no one looking and pick my size, snap the plastic strap that’s holding the pair together and put them on my feet. I go find Loretta, scrunching my toes and feeling like the flicking sound of my thongs is echoing through the whole shop, loud. Loretta’s hair has gone ropey from the sea and there’s a ghost of white salt on her skin. Jordy’s with her. Where’d you get them?

I shrug and grin. Nowhere.

He’s still wearing his shoes. He stalks off up the aisles.

What do you reckon, says Loretta, we got everything?

I dunno, I say. She’s got a basket hooked on her arm. She
heads to the checkout and I follow close behind. She turns back around and slips three Caramello Koalas into her pocket. When Jordy comes back, he’s wearing thongs.

Copycat, I say quietly.

Shut up.

I push past Loretta and the lady in front. The lady looks down at me.

Sorry, I say.

I go and sit on Bert’s bumper out the front. I look at my thongs. Loretta comes out and throws me a koala.

Cheer up, she says. Opens the boot. I watch her take other things out of her pockets: batteries, nut bars, razors. My koala is half melted. I start with the head and suck all the caramel out until he’s empty inside. Jordy and Loretta get in the car. I slide off the front and get in the back.

Loretta drives down the road that hugs the beach – with a park on the beach side and shops on the other. The breeze blowing off the ocean is cooler and the sun looks ready to give it up. I don’t want to put my school shirt back on so I wind the window up. Attached to each light pole is a faded Christmas cut-out with enormous ropes of tinsel strung between. At one end of the park a stage is set up and I can see kids wearing red and white Santa hats.

How about this? she says. She drives into a carpark. We got a huge packet of hot chips in the front. Loretta gets it in her lap.

Look, she says. I’ll show you a trick. If you just unfold this little bit of paper at the top, look, perfect. She puts her hand in and pulls out a fat chip. The car fills with the smell of vinegar and hot oil.

I can’t reach from here, I say.

Well, you got to come closer, she says. She holds the packet between the two front seats and her and Jordy get their hands in there. I lean over and grab a handful and it’s like I got golden fingers.

But I didn’t see how you unfolded it, I say with a mouthful of chip.

I’ll show you next time, she says.

Is there any sauce?

For sure, she says. She gets the little plastic sauce thing and snaps it open. It sprays onto Jordy’s hand as he’s reaching in for a chip.

Loretta, he says.

I go to dip my chip on his arm.

Get lost, he says and wipes the sauce off with an old scrunched up napkin he gets from the floor and chucks back there.

I crunch a chip in my mouth and feel it turn to mush. I chew and swallow. I reach in for another and they’re going soft and sweaty in the paper. Through the window I can see kids standing up on the stage in the hats. Their mouths are wide- open, singing. They’re each holding a cup with a candle in it. None of the candles are lit – it’s not dark yet. It’s that bright blue before dark comes. The wind is blowing in so strong the voices of them kids are blown away and I can only catch a word or two coming clear and bright as if from nowhere.

What do you reckon they’re singing? says Loretta.

How am I supposed to know, says Jordy.

Somebody’s a grumpy bum.

We was supposed to have our concert, I say.

Huh? says Loretta.

I was gunna sing ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ and Jordy had to sing ‘Silent Night’.

Really? says Loretta.

Yeah, I say and look at them kids up there in their Santa hats.