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Authors: Cath Crowley

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BOOK: Graffiti Moon
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‘I don’t know about souls but a person should live good. No point living if you don’t live good.’

While she’s on the phone Lucy looks at me every now and then. The only thing I can hear is her occasionally saying, ‘Oh my God. Don’t. No.’

Leo, what are you telling her? I try to think of ways to explain why I lied. After a while she walks over and hands me the phone. ‘Everything okay?’ I ask.

‘Everything’s fine,’ she says, and smiles, and I breathe easy again. Easy breathing, I think as I walk away from her and turn my back. I hear Leo laughing before I put it to my ear. ‘You fell over the drop?’ he asks. ‘Hilarious.’

‘Hilarious,’ I whisper. ‘It’s dark and we can’t call the cops to help us because I’m robbing a place later. I don’t want them getting the idea that Lucy has anything to do with it if I get caught.’

Leo stops laughing. ‘Yeah, definitely don’t call the cops. Listen, Dylan and me are leaving to pick up the van soon. We’re coming back to get Jazz and Daisy and then we can swing by the park about one-thirty. You’ll be at the top by then.’

I lower my voice even further. ‘You can’t drive them around in the getaway van.’

‘How about we don’t call it the getaway van? People might get suspicious.’

‘So what should we call it?’

‘How about the van?’

‘It doesn’t change what it is and that it’s a shitty thing to do. Someone might see them in it.’ I look back at Lucy who’s sitting in a pool of bike light flipping a coin. ‘I don’t want her in this.’

‘There’s something going on?’

‘There’s nothing going on. Don’t go telling Jazz there’s something going on.’

‘That’s what you said in Year 5 when Mrs Peri accused us of being up to something but she couldn’t work out what it was. She was frothing at the mouth and you kept saying, “There’s nothing going on.”’

‘So?’

‘So you had the class fish down your pants. There was something going on.’

‘Tell Jazz I had a fish down my pants and we’re done.’

There’s a few beats of silence before he says, ‘What do you think about the Jazz Lady? She has these little plaits. I like those little plaits. She points her finger a lot. She knows some good poetry. I recited a few of mine and she really liked them.’

‘You recited stuff from the walls?’

‘Relax. Not that. Other stuff.’

‘What other stuff?’

‘Stuff. Don’t worry about it.’

‘I’m not worried about it. I just didn’t know you wrote poetry other than for our pieces. Would you say you’re more a poet or social commentator?’ I ask, thinking about what Lucy said earlier.

‘I don’t know.’ He chuckles. ‘Would you say you’re more of an idiot or a wanker?’

‘Fair point.’

‘So what do you think of Jazz?’

‘I think you actually like her so don’t do something that’ll wreck it. Walk her home and pick up the getaway van and hope you don’t get arrested tonight.’

‘It’s not technically the getaway van till we get away in it. That’s two hours from now, give or take. So how about we pick you up near the skate park, go get some food, have a laugh, drop the girls home and then, you know.’

While I’m thinking about it he says, ‘By the way, Beth’s here looking for you. Says she’s got some things to say. Says she tried your mobile. I told her the phone company cut it off because you’re broke.’

‘Thanks.’

‘She doesn’t care about that stuff. She wants to get back with you. Should I bring her in the van?’

‘Don’t get her involved in this. I’ll call her from a pay phone. Listen, Lucy still thinks I’m with Beth so don’t tell Jazz I’m not.’

I don’t like the dead-man quiet that comes after what I just said. ‘Leo?’

‘Look. Jazz told me that there might be something going on with you and Lucy because Lucy hinted there might be and Beth heard Jazz and so Jazz told her there wasn’t anything going on because you two were dating and Beth said you two hadn’t dated in about three months.’

‘Fuck.’

‘It’s not all bad,’ he says, and I hang up while he’s still talking.

I walk over to Lucy. She’s spun a coin in the air so I catch it and put it on the back of my hand. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Asking the universe questions.’

‘The universe just dumped you over the side of a steep hill. You really want to ask it questions?’ She doesn’t laugh. I follow my instinct and cover my nose.

‘I can’t ask you,’ she says. ‘You’re a liar.’

‘Okay, elbows in and stay calm.’

‘It’s not funny, mister.’

‘What do you care if I’m not going out with Beth? You’re on an all-night adventure to find Shadow so you can do it with him.’

‘Lie down,’ she says. ‘I want to get my bike and finish the job.’

‘Nice.’

We stand there for a while and I don’t know what to say. ‘Do you want to know what the universe told you?’ I hold up the coin.

She grabs it from me and puts it in her pocket without looking. ‘That’s my dad’s coin. My dad is a good man. He doesn’t lie.’ She wraps her bike helmet strap around and around one handlebar till it’s tight and then clicks the clasp. I get the feeling she’s imagining the bar is my neck.

‘I never said your dad lied,’ I tell her, and pick up her bike.

‘Just leave it,’ she yells when I start walking. ‘It’s too heavy.’

‘It’s not too heavy,’ I yell back. ‘It’s fine. Leo’s meeting us at the skate park with a van. We can throw it in the back.’

‘Excellent,’ she says.

‘Excellent,’ I say, and we stumble over rocks under our feet.

Bert’s huffing beside us on the walk up the hill. He’s telling me I should say sorry. ‘You’re acting like a heel,’ he said that time Beth came into the shop to bring my things back.

‘No one says heel anymore,’ I told him.

‘Laugh all you want, but I still got my girl.’

I heave the bike higher on my shoulders. It is too heavy but I’ll feel better if I have the option of my own getaway ride when we reach the top. Plus, I feel like a heel and I’m trying to make it up to her.

‘Move it along,’ Lucy says. ‘I don’t want to miss Leo and Jazz.’

Seems my efforts aren’t working. ‘Look, I lied about Beth because of the way you were looking at me earlier. Like I was a bag of nothing about to grab you.’

‘But then we got friendly and you still didn’t tell me.’

‘You just ran over me with your bike. When exactly did we get friendly?’ But we did talk and we did get friendly and I know it and I should have told her. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Is there anything else you lied about?’ she asks.

Now’s my chance. I’m Shadow. I’ve lost my job. I’m robbing your school later so I can pay my rent and help Leo clear his debt with Malcolm Dove. ‘Uh-uh. Nothing. I broke up with my girlfriend and I didn’t feel like talking about it and that’s it.’

Gutless wonder, Bert says.

‘Why’d you break up with her?’ Lucy asks.

‘It doesn’t matter now. It’s done.’

I don’t want to talk about Beth stuff with Lucy. I’m already swimming in the swampy part of the river because I kind of like them both, which would be shitty only I don’t have a chance with either of them so who cares? Beth might think she wants to get back with me but she doesn’t. She doesn’t know all of me.

She told me to read this book she was studying in Literature class. ‘It’s about Vermeer,’ she said. ‘You like him.’ So I sat there, every night, reading a page or two. But my head doesn’t hold words. They drop out before I’m putting the next ones in. I’m not any stupider than Leo so if he can hold words, why can’t I?

I got him to read it for me and fill me in. I knew all the paintings he was talking about, knew
Girl with a Pearl Earring
, knew the way Vermeer used that box of his to see things differently. Mrs J told me about his camera obscura when I was still at school. How Vermeer looked through it and everything was mixed around so he could paint how no one else saw. I liked that idea so I watched a documentary on him. I knew lots of stuff, I just hadn’t read the stupid book.

But I couldn’t tell Beth because she was so happy when I pretended I’d read it. We had this big talk and all the while I felt like she was looking at me through that box of Vermeer’s. Everything she saw was true but mixed round the wrong way.

‘What are you thinking?’ Lucy asks.

‘I’m thinking I should have had some carbs before we left the party.’

‘I’ve got a packet of mints in my pocket,’ she says, and I get the feeling I’m on the way to being forgiven.

‘I’ll take it.’

We sit on the hill, halfway to the top, and she divides the packet. ‘I like to take my time till they disappear,’ she says, and it’s a second before I realise she’s talking about the mint.

‘Me too.’

‘Jazz can eat a packet of these in under a minute.’

‘Her and Leo should get along then. He can eat a sausage roll in under thirty seconds.’

‘You think they’ll get together?’ she asks.

‘I don’t know. Maybe. Leo was asking what I thought about her. I said she seemed nice.’

‘Nice is too boring. She once chased a guy down the street for his phone number.’

‘She catch him?’

‘Yep.’

‘Then she sounds perfect for Leo.’

Poet
 
 

Dance floor

12.45 am

 

Almost

 

Your jokes kind of make me laugh

And your hair is fairly close to being cute

Your smile isn’t half bad, either

You know, I almost, almost kind of like you

 

The dress you’re wearing is short and sweet

And your boots are kind of cool

You’re not, not turning me on

You know, I almost, almost kind of like you

 

The way you dance definitely isn’t stupid

I could maybe get used to the way you move

I’m not saying I’ve made up my mind

But you know, I almost, almost kind of like you

Ed
 
 

I finish the last mint and we start walking again. ‘I could carry the bike for a while,’ Lucy says. ‘I have great muscles because of all the glassblowing.’

I heave the bike higher on my shoulders. At least carrying it gives me an excuse for breathing heavy, other than walking next to her great muscles. ‘You say pretty much whatever’s in your head, don’t you?’

‘It’s better than saying nothing, which is what you said on our date. I really wanted to talk.’

‘You made that pretty clear.’ This time I let her call it a date.

‘I had it all worked out. I thought we’d talk about art. About Rothko. Or maybe books. Or the weather. There was a hurricane in the north that day.’

She’s the strangest girl I’ve ever met. I didn’t know she was this strange when I asked her out in Year 10. I’m not sure I would have asked her if I did. ‘So how did our conversation go? The one you had in your head?’

‘I thought I’d say something like, “Wasn’t that Rothko we saw at the gallery cool?”’

‘Very casual.’

‘Well it sounds less casual now because we just fell over a hill.’

‘True. So what did I say back?’

‘I left room for you in the conversation.’

‘Considerate.’

‘So?’

‘Okay, so. Yeah. That Rothko we saw at the gallery was cool.’

‘Do you even remember what Rothko we’re talking about?’

‘What are you, a lawyer?
No. 301. Reds and Violet over Red/Red and Blue over Red
.’

She looks impressed. ‘What was cool about it?’

I think for a bit, remembering how the last wrong answer I gave her won me a broken nose. ‘For a while, for as long as you’re looking at it, that painting is the world and you get to be in it.’

I try to put into words what it feels like to look at that painting but I can’t and that’s the point. ‘Art like that doesn’t need words. That painting tells you something by pulling you into it and pushing you out and you know what it’s saying without words being spoken.’ I put the bike down for a second. ‘Is that what you thought I’d say?’

‘No,’ she says. ‘But that was good. Better.’

I pick up the bike and keep walking. ‘What were you planning on saying next?’

‘Do you remember the first piece of art that got you hooked?’

‘Maybe
io
from
The Spoils
by Sam Leach. I’ve been thinking about it lately, since Bert.’

‘The dead birds side by side?’

‘The bird on the left had the best blue on its chest. I thought about that painting, while Valerie was at the shop, reading out cards from the funeral. They were all full of bullshit words that didn’t get close to Bert’s death. But that painting gets close.’

BOOK: Graffiti Moon
12.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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