Haunting of Lily Frost (4 page)

‘At least you won't get lost.'

‘That's a bonus.'

‘No more Mr Parks barking maths at you.' She's trying to make me laugh. But just the thought of having to do maths without Ruby to feed me answers makes me burst into tears.

‘Oh, Lil. I'm sorry. I was joking. Maybe I can text you the answers.'

She hugs me and I realise I have three more weeks of her hugs and then I'll only get to hug her on the occasional weekend. This just makes me cry more.

‘It's okay. I promise. You'll make friends.'

We look at each other, knowing there's no way I'll make friends. It's not something I can do, especially without her helping me. Usually it's Ruby who makes a friend and they get me sort of by default. The buy-one-get-one-free deal. I can't see my popularity increasing in a town this size.

‘I don't want to make friends. I hate making friends.' More tears. This could go on forever, crying hysterically outside my new school, except while I'm wailing, someone rides past on a bike. If I was at home, in the city, I wouldn't look up, but given that I haven't actually seen anyone on the streets since we've been here, I can't help myself. Because I'm sobbing and I'm clearly a stranger, he looks at me too. He has no helmet on and his hair's long and blond: a bit rock-star-crossed-with-surfer, although he's obviously a loser if he lives in this town.

He's zigzagging back and forth across the street, confirming the tragic fact that there's hardly any traffic in this town and that it's perfectly safe to ride without a helmet down the middle of the road. And then out of nowhere bounds the Alsatian and I realise the boy on the bike is the one who whistled before. The dog runs after the bike like it's perfectly used to following it, but as the boy rides up closer, he looks over and stares at me in that way a parent does when they're sizing you up. I'd look away, but he's really cute. He's got tanned skin from spending too much time in the sun, and amazing green eyes that bore right into me like he can read my mind. He's the sort of boy you hope will notice you but never does, because the hottest girls in school, who make sure you never crack an introduction, always surround them.

He's still not as cute as Jackson Hooper, though. Okay, I know I have to forget about Jackson, because pretty soon I'll probably never see him again, or if I do it'll be at Ruby's graduation dinner and he'll be surrounded by a bunch of girls. Still, it hurts thinking about him. It's just another thing Mum and Dad have
wrecked by dragging me to Gideon. If I'd stayed in
the city, who knows, maybe he would finally have noticed me.

Ruby suddenly stops hugging me and looks up to see what's caught my attention. She isn't stunned into silence by his cuteness, so she grins and calls out, ‘Hi, are you the welcoming committee?'

He turns his bike round so quickly that he almost falls, and rides away so fast, it's like he needs to escape. The dog barks and runs off after him.

Ruby laughs at the getaway, but I just groan. It's started happening already. ‘Great, Rubes. The locals are avoiding me.'

‘At least he's cute.'

‘Yeah. He
was
.'

‘Maybe he'll be in your class.' She's always trying to be upbeat.

‘For sure. There's probably
only
one class. I might even end up in with Max. Little town, everyone in together.' I groan.

‘And the work will be really easy –'

‘So I'll blitz it.'

‘Everyone'll be amazed at how smart you are.'

‘Totally.'

Neither of us bothers to laugh. I can't even pretend to be okay with this place.

‘Where should we go now?' Ruby says.

‘I don't know. There's
nowhere
to
go.'

‘Must be something to do here.' There she goes again, always positive.

‘We could whittle sticks.'

‘Oh, Lil, you'd be good at that.'

I manage half a smile, but that's only because she's my best friend and she's trying. ‘I don't want to go back to the house,' I say, more because I want to avoid the fact we're moving than because I'm scared.

But Ruby must misunderstand because she says, ‘I don't blame you. It's creepy, isn't it?'

At least it's not just me. ‘But why, Rubes? Why do you think it's creepy?'

‘You know what Mum's like about omens,' she says.

I nod because we
all
know. ‘I know she won't say number 13.'

‘Well, that's what I meant before. When we went to China years ago—'

‘Yeah, when your dad was still alive.'

‘Mum really got into the culture,' she says.

‘As she does.'

‘And she freaked out one day because we were supposed to stay in a room that was number 4. I remember it, because Dad thought it was hilarious that she stormed downstairs and demanded a different room on a different floor.'

‘So number 4's bad luck?' I'm still not quite sure what she's saying.

‘For Chinese people it is.'

‘But why?'

‘I can't remember.' Ruby's the worst liar. Whenever she makes an excuse, she looks away at her hands or her feet, or anywhere other than the person she's lying to.

‘Ruby Harada. Tell me.'

She sighs. ‘Because the word for 4 in Chinese sounds the same as their word for death.'

‘Great.'

‘But we're not in China so it's just a number, isn't it?'

‘So
that's
why you went weird when we pulled up outside.'

‘Mum's so intense about these things, I can't get them out of my head. And that house is pretty –'

‘Haunted looking?'

‘No. You sound like Max. It's just big and old and weird.'

‘So you won't come and stay?'

‘Course I will. Just don't tell Mum the address or she'll never let me.'

The thought that Ruby might not be allowed to visit is enough to get me sniffling again. ‘How am I going to live here without you?'

She hugs me harder, but even she can't answer that.

‘Let's try and find the good bits of the town. There must be some,' she says.

My grandmother had an old saying, “If you're not willing to find something you don't want to find, then don't go looking for it.” She used to say it to us when we slept overnight and would rummage through her cupboards looking for something to do or play with. We never found much. Jars of old buttons, different versions of the Bible, toffees that would break your teeth if you chewed on them. I was always sure we were missing the good stuff. She had to have stashed her treasures somewhere. But we never found them – even after she died. So whatever hiding place she had for her treasures, it must have been amazing.

I think she would have told me not to explore Gideon.

I'm not sure what takes us through the town, neither of us talking, each of us with thoughts we're not ready to share. I'm seeing myself here in this place, totally alone. I don't know what's in Ruby's head. She's just following me as I walk, leaving it all behind us.

We see a few people. Little kids learning to ride bikes. An old man, who gives me a weird look as I walk past. But mostly it's quiet. Where is everyone? There are no garage sales, or Sunday afternoon parties. No picnics in the park. Even as we slide down the back of the grassy football oval and into what looks like a picnic ground, there's no noise. That's the creepiest thing.

‘River track.' Ruby reads a little sign pointing into the bush. ‘That might be fun.'

‘Seems like we're really lowering our expectation of fun, but sure, it beats doing another lap of the town.'

It's not a cold day, but as we walk onto the dusty dirt track the air temperature drops. Ruby and I don't even talk about where we're going. We just walk, like zombies. I have to stop once, to pull a stick from my sandals, but Ruby keeps going. And we follow the track further into the bush.

We're suddenly right in the middle of a forest of huge, epic-looking gum trees. With white trunks, they stretch as high as the sky, like giant ghosts standing over us. Something about it makes me shiver.

Usually I'd be scared of snakes on a track like this. I'd be bashing a long stick on the ground as I walked, singing or talking loudly to scare away any threats. But here I'm not worried about nature. There's something else pulling me in.

‘Lil, maybe we should go back. Your mum's probably wondering where we are.'

‘Yeah. Probably,' I say.

But we both keep trudging along. Ruby's now following me, rather than leading. I know she's scared, but I don't care.

‘I'm pretty hungry,' she says.

‘Yeah, me too. But let's just go a bit further.'

We pass a bend and there's an enormous gum fallen across the track. It looks like a giant's arm.

Ruby stops, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back. ‘Lil, maybe it's a sign –'

‘Of what?'

‘That we should stop. That we shouldn't go any further.'

‘But it's just a tree.' I know I don't sound very convincing and Ruby doesn't answer, so I give her a hug. ‘Just ten more minutes and then we'll go back. I promise, Rubes.'

She looks at me and nods, her eyes flicking from side to side. She looks like she might cry.

‘Come on, help me up.' I make her cup her hands together so I can get a leg-up and scramble onto the wide smooth trunk. I bend down to pull her after me, but she hesitates.

‘I'll stay here.'

‘No. Please, Ruby.'

Reluctantly she stretches her hand up and I pull her onto the bottom branch so she can climb the rest of the way herself.

‘Aren't you scared too?' she says.

‘Yeah, I am, but there's something about this place that makes me want to keep going.'

‘Great. That's what you said when you made me go to Macca's party – and look how that turned out!'

I laugh and jump down the other side of the trunk. Big mistake. It's a bit too high and sharp pains stab my heels. Sensibly, Ruby slides down, her jeans protecting her from the rougher sections of bark.

‘Is that water?'

I nod, and my heart starts racing.

‘Probably just a creek or something,' I say.

‘You'll be able to come down here all the time.'

‘Great.' And it is, except, I can't really see myself hanging here. Not without Ruby.

‘Well it's beautiful,' she says.

I can feel the cold creeping up my back, reaching into my hair and tugging me backwards. I stumble, tripping over the ground and fall onto my bottom. Ruby bends down and laughs.

‘It's not funny.'

‘Sort of is.'

And just then something flashes past. I turn and try to see what it is, but it's gone. ‘Did you see that?' I say.

‘What?'

‘That flash. Like something, or someone, ran past.'

‘Some
one
?'

‘I guess.'

‘You're losing it, Lil.'

‘No, it was. It was something.'

She grins, grabs hold of my hand and pulls me up. ‘Come on, two minutes and we're heading back.'

I want to say let's go back now, I'm hungry too, but we keep going. We scuff our feet along the track, bursting the dry dirt into mini explosions around us, and turn the final bend.

The air rushes at us. It's cold and angry. Ruby and I clutch each other's hand as we step closer, trying to get a look down over the bank of the river. I was expecting
a trickle, a creek that some local had optimistically called a
river, in the same way whoever had named Gideon a town was having a big laugh. But it's a river all right. I can feel how strong it is even from up here, and it's like we're being pulled closer and closer.

There's a crack on a branch behind us and I spin round, but there's nothing there. Just trees and scrub and dirt. Then something pings at me, flicking me on the cheek.

‘Ow!'

‘What?'

‘Something just hit me.'

Then something pops against my bare arm.

‘Ow! It happened again.'

‘It's probably just gumnuts from the trees.'

‘Not at that angle.' Then one falls on my head, I grab it and Ruby's right: it is just a gumnut. I hold it out to her and shrug.

‘You can't help it, Lil. You're just a city girl.'

‘So are you.'

‘Well, it is a bit creepy,' she says.

As we reach a sharp overhang, I see this little bridge. It's wooden, old and rickety looking, even from here. But the bridge doesn't actually go all the way across the river. It seems to stop before it touches the other side. It's actually more like a jetty than a bridge. Why would anyone build a jetty across a river?

Then the wind blows down through the giant ghost gums and across the bridge, and there's a flash of colour. I charge ahead, pulling Ruby behind me. I need to know what it is. She yanks free, so leaving her behind I slide down a dirt slope on my bum, not caring how muddy I get. I've got to reach the bridge. There's an old railing on either side, but nothing at the end.

As I step onto it, the wind blows again and I see all the colours are actually little ribbons hanging down under the bridge. They must be tied onto bolts or nails underneath so they can't be seen until the wind shoots them up through the gaps, making them dance and shake. It looks beautiful, the reds and pinks and greens all shining against the dark water. The ribbons fly up and skirt around my ankles like they're dainty fingers pulling at me.

As the ribbons blow up, I touch a handful and let them fall between my fingers. They're the sorts of ribbons I wore in my hair when I was younger. Mum would braid my hair, tie a ribbon around the end and I'd usually lose it at school or outside and she'd have to buy more. As I stroke them, one comes loose and I grab it, a jolt throwing me forward, dangerously close to the open end of the bridge. I move back, preferring the safer end, the part that hits land.