Past the Shallows (20 page)

But the bluff was still there, the reef solid. A tiny swell running on the surface. Tiny ripples turning into small lines.
Little waves beginning to peel, pulling right and wrapping around the reef. Waves that could be something as the tide dropped.
Waves that could be working.

Light wind.

Winter sun.

It could be something.

And Miles could feel it in him. The water.

With his board tucked under his arm, his bare feet hit the sand. And he ran down the beach. The sun was up high with that
bright blinding white coming right off the water, and out there, the silhouette of a boy moving – taking to the air, his arms
outstretched like an eagle. And even before Miles paddled up, even before he could see that face, he knew it was Justin Roberts.
Unmistakable. Justin out there, with his big mouth and his big teeth saying, Give me another one of those. Just give me another
one and I’ll show you something.

Miles let the rip that ran with the bluff carry him. He enjoyed the ride, felt his hands slipping through the cool water,
body floating free. And there was this feeling in him like when it had all just been for fun, the water. Him and Justin out
here on their foamies
all summer – out until dark, ripping on all those shories, ripping the life right out of them, wishing that the sun would
stay up just a bit longer. Just one more. Just give me one more.

Mum would be in the Holden waiting and she’d honk the horn.

‘Come on, you two – time to go. Time to get dry. It’s dark!’

And they’d get in the car with the heater on, and they’d be starving – suddenly starving. They’d drop Justin off. They’d drop
Justin home to the stone house over the bluff.

‘See you tomorrow.’

‘We’ll get some good ones tomorrow!’

Justin waved, looked him right in the eye, no fear.

‘Long wait between sets, but I thought, stuff it. Not going to get any better today.’

And that was it. Just like always. Talking about the water – talking about the waves.

Miles noticed the board beneath Justin gleaming. No dings, no wax gone brown from grime and sand. Just a clean white surface,
brand spanking new.

‘Dad got it for me. Have a go if you want.’

Miles didn’t waste a second. He found his leg rope and ripped it loose. A new board, light and sharp,
and Miles sat tall, let the first wave roll underneath him. He reached his arms to the sky as it bucked.

God. Remember this, Justin? The first time we came out to this reef? The first time we made it out the back? We just decided,
looked at those waves and said, Let’s go – let’s just go. Hearts racing, saying, Yes! Come on, it’s time now. Ducking under
the white water over and over until we were shaking. Looking out at all that deep water, all that dark water. Being scared.
Seeing the face of the reef as the tide rolled back. Sitting where we are right now. Like this.

Right here.

Remember?

When did I forget about this?

Miles and Justin fought for the next line, but Miles was all over it, the board fast and loose under his feet and everything
was right.

It felt good. Just like it should.

‘You can give me my stick back now,’ Justin yelled from behind, but Miles wasn’t ready to give this up. Not yet. He’d paddle
out for one more. Just one more.

‘I’m sorry about your brother,’ Justin said, before he walked off, before he walked home. And Miles wanted to say goodbye.
To tell Justin thanks for everything, for all of it. But he didn’t. He just stood and watched and waved as Justin moved down
the beach, wet feet shoved into his sneakers.

He could feel them. Mum and Harry. They were right there behind him, waiting in the Holden – Harry in the front seat grinning
and telling him to hurry up. Telling him they were getting fish and chips.

And he wanted them to stay with him a while longer. He wanted them to stay.

He heard the sound of a horn and turned around.

It was Joe.

Joe was waiting for him.

S
ometimes in the morning, when the mist hovered in the trees and fog covered the ground and rolled out thick on the water,
it meant the winter light would come.

And Miles loved that light.

It made the dark water sparkle, turned the white spray golden – made the ocean a giant mirror reflecting the sky.

Even the leaves on the crack wattle shone in that light.

It made everything come to life.

And they were going to Cloudy. They were leaving.

The water was calm, resting and waiting and letting them pass. Just the right amount of wind to sail without having to work
hard, without having to work at all. They moved silently into the bay and
through thinning mist, Cloudy looked brand new. Just born, the outlines becoming sharp as the sun rose, as the fog cleared.
And like a dream, the waking cliffs glowed orange and the sand lit up silver and the sky, still pale violet, was full and
open.

George was there waiting, Jake by his side.

Standing on sand, it seemed that none of them needed to talk. That none of them needed words. They walked together into the
dunes to a place where wind couldn’t touch and tide would never reach. Joe knelt down and dug a small hole in the damp sandy
soil. And they still didn’t speak. Even Jake sat quietly.

All the things that Harry had left behind, scattered on the floor and tucked away in drawers and shoved to the back of his
cupboard. His show bags full of lollies that he had tried so hard to save, his red plastic skateboard with bearings rusted
solid, his old dirty sneakers. They were just things. They were no use anymore.

And when Miles thought about his brother, now, it was the carefully collected shells and rocks, the drift-wood and bones that
mattered most. Harry’s treasure hunt items that had taken up all the windowsills and mantelpieces and verandah space at Granddad’s.

Miles had brought the best ones back to Cloudy.

The petrified seahorse, the huge cuttlefish cartridge that Harry had carved his name into, and the dried and shrunken Port
Jackson shark egg. Although technically Harry hadn’t found that one. Not really.

Miles combed the dirty layers of caked wax on his board, making lines to give him grip. Harry had made them late because he
didn’t want to get in the stupid dinghy, and any minute now the sea breeze would pick up and everything would be wrecked.

‘What should I find?’ Harry asked.

Joe was shaking his wetsuit out over and over. ‘Um … A cuttlefish bone, a nice bit of driftwood …’

‘A shark egg,’ Miles said.

It had just come out of his mouth and he didn’t want to look up because he knew Joe would be staring right at him. He knew
he shouldn’t have said it. Harry would look everywhere for a shark egg and he’d never look in the right places. He’d never
find one.

‘You coming?’ said Joe. He was already wading out and Harry had gone. He’d run off down the beach.

Miles looked out to the water. Perfect three-foot glass, empty and waiting and no wind yet. Not yet.

And he couldn’t believe he was going to give up clean waves for this, for Harry. But he was going to. He’d already put his
board down on the sand.

He watched Harry move into the dunes. God, he wasn’t going to find much in there. If there were eggs anywhere they’d be up
near Whale Bone Point. The current pushed loose stuff up there. Anything that floated. And it had just been a full moon. There
was a chance.

A small chance.

Miles poured a cup of tea into the thermos lid, warmed his hands. He’d stayed out in the water for ages. There had been time
after all. Plenty. The water just for him.

‘Did you look over there for an egg, Harry?’ Miles pointed to the rock pools and gnarled reef that made up Whale Bone Point.

Harry was stuffing his face with a fat slice of Aunty Jean’s carrot cake. ‘I looked everywhere,’ he said, white butter icing
stuck to his lips.

‘Are you sure you looked over there?’

Harry just stared at him then took another bite of cake. Miles walked over to his towel and pulled the Port Jackson shark
egg out from under it. He threw it at Harry. It landed on the sand right near
his feet and Harry looked at it for a long time. He didn’t even chew.

‘Is the shark out of it?’ he said, finally.

Miles nodded. The brown covering of the egg had spiralled open, its contents long gone.

‘But I didn’t find it.’

‘You would have if you’d looked over there properly.’

Harry put the remaining bit of cake down. He touched the egg with his fingers, held it up to the light.

Yes, he nodded.

‘Thanks,’ he said.

Joe was touching his arm. The sun had moved in the sky and time had run on. Time had gotten away.

Miles bent down and put the shark egg in the hole. He put the seahorse in, too, but kept the cuttlefish tight in his hand.
He’d hang on to it. He’d take it with them. Just one thing.

Joe filled the hole. He patted it solid and marked the spot with shells they had collected on the way through to the dunes.
Old shells, white and ancient. Shells that had been at Cloudy forever.

It was time to go.

Joe shook George’s hand goodbye and when Miles
went to do the same, George grabbed him up quick, pulled him in tight.

‘Don’t look back,’ he said in his way so that all the words ran together. But Miles understood. And he knew he wouldn’t come
back here, not for a long time. Then George put something in his hand. Something small and cold, sharp against his skin.

The white pointer’s tooth, come back to him.

And in his mind he saw Uncle Nick get in the car. He leant over and stroked Harry’s cheek. He looked at Miles.

‘This is for you,’ he said, and he put the tooth in his hands.

‘For luck.’

Miles looked up at George, his eyes full of tears.

‘You found him,’ he said. ‘Harry.’

And George nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said softly.

Jake barked, and George waved goodbye as they set off in the dinghy and headed out to the boat. Miles looked back down the
curved wide beach of Cloudy one last time. Out of all the places, all the cliffs and rocks and black water and good waves
rushing, this place was the only one he would miss. Cloudy was special, always brighter, and Harry was free to stay here now.
Free to run along this beach until the end of time.

Out past the shallows, past the sandy-bottomed bays, comes the dark water – black and cold and roaring. Rolling out an invisible
path, a new line for them to follow.

To somewhere warm.

To somewhere new.