The Innocents (17 page)

27

Zilla and Deirdre went home. They'd only stayed a couple of weeks but it felt like forever since Missie had had her room to herself.

They'd waved goodbye early on Saturday morning leaving a sudden stillness behind them. Her room looked like it had been caught in mid-movement. Things not quite finished with and other things not quite begun.

‘You've got a bit of a mess here, old girl,' her mother said. ‘This'll keep you busy for a bit.'

Missie looked over the shambles that was her bed. They'd been sleeping top and tail, her and Zill, and it was just a tangle of blankets and quilts and twisted sheets. Deirdre had slept on a trundle on the floor and sheets and blankets tumbled about it, filling up the space between it and the bed. The rug that should have lived in the middle of the floor was doing its best to huddle against the wall. Pencils and paints and books and bits of knitting and the dolls' clothes her mother had made for her last Christmas filled the far corner. And pick-up-sticks and Ludo were fighting for whatever space was available in the corner behind the door.

‘I'll be up to help you in a little while but do what you can and get all these toys and games and bits picked up, packed up and put away neatly on the shelf. When you've done that we might go down to Ford's and see if we can choose some knitting wool. I'm ready to start a new jumper for you.'

Missie let the stillness, the silence of the lovely old house seep into her bones. Even the cold was welcome.

She tried not to but she wondered if Oleks's country was cold and if he had a house over there. And more than anything she wondered about where she'd hide if soldiers came marching up the street to take her away from her mother.

‘Missie?'

She'd almost forgotten her mother was there.

‘You all right?'

Missie nodded. ‘We're safe here, aren't we?' The words bumbled out before she could stop them.

‘From what?'

Soldiers. Horrors. Ghosts. Men who'd take you away and lock you up.

‘Stuff like you said in the kitchen. Wars and stuff.'

‘Love a duck! You were out there in the hall stickybeakin'! That's what you get for eavesdropping on other people's conversations but, since you're asking ... yes, we certainly are safe! We're very lucky and lots of brave men went off and fought for your country so you'd better mind your p's and q's whenever you're around them. Your own dad went...'

Missie didn't know her dad. But she knew he went to the war and didn't come back.

‘Did he get killed?'

She'd never dared ask before and wasn't sure if she should now but, somehow, knowing about Oleksander made it easier.

Her mother rubbed her hands over her face. ‘No, lovey. He didn't get killed. He just didn't come back to us, that's all. Now, this room! Onto it before I forget that you've been a good kid while the girls were here and change my mind about a jumper. We might even go to the afternoon matinee if we're quick.'

It was something to look forward to while she worked. Her mother had said it was a funny picture with Bob Hope and Pink Crosby. It was certainly a funny name. She tried to imagine what it might be about by thinking about the other picture shows her mother had taken her to see and by the time the trundle was collected the room was all but done.

Deirdre had taken a lot of clothes that were too small so there was extra room in the drawers and what didn't fit in there were bundled into the bottom of the wardrobe.

‘Done!' she said to herself and stood back.

Her little tabletop was clear for the first time in ages. It begged to be sat at and for something wonderful to be done with crayons that were once again neatly lined up in their tray.

The pencils were there too.

Missie sat down. She slid the lid of the pencil case and smelt the lovely smell of shavings and school which was especially good on a Saturday because she wasn't there. She had a new way of writing now and took out her writing pencil to be sure she'd remembered. The letters were formed with long, long strokes and long, long tails and they sat straight up and down and looked absolutely perfect.

It was just like Mary's writing and Missie rather wished she'd thought of it first.

She wrote her name and her address all the way down to the planet.

She wrote her mother's name.

She wrote her school name.

Then she wrote the word ‘sister' and knew exactly what she was going to draw. A little girl. The one in the photo her mother had been talking about.

It didn't matter if she wasn't a true sister. Zill and Deirdre weren't true sisters but they sure as hell felt like it when they were here. Oleks probably felt the same about that girl.

A bit empty when she wasn't around.

Only his friends, that little girl and boy, weren't coming back. Ever.

Carefully she took out a fresh sheet of paper and drew a man that looked like Oleksander. Then she drew a little girl that looked like her only the girl had dark hair like she wished she had. She was going to draw the boy too but she couldn't make it look right. In her head she knew exactly what she wanted and the boy didn't fit too well.

She drew the little girl giving him a great big round-the-middle hug, only it was hard to get the arms right and she had to start all over again when one arm looked like it had been stretched.

Then, in her best colouring in, she coloured their clothes and the background with a mountain and a river in it.

Finally she wrote the message. It was in a balloon coming from the little girl's mouth. ‘You're my best friend.' It was a bit of a squash but she got it in the end.

She wasn't sure if Oleks would get that the little girl was the one from a long time ago. It would be good if he did because it was supposed to cheer him up.

It might help if she wrote a letter telling him that but it was becoming too hard to get the message straight. She wasn't too sure she wanted him to know she'd been listening in and knew all about him.

So she simply used her very best new tall writing to sign her name. Least that way he'd know where it came from.

Yours faithfully, Missie Missinger.

She folded it neatly and made an envelope with lots of cutting out and folding bits and then addressed it to Oleksander. She wasn't too sure how to spell that but she gave it a good shot.

And then she crept along the hallway and slid it under his door.

There.

That should make him feel a whole lot better.

28

‘We're meeting them down the river,' Zilla said.

‘Told you he was in love with you!' Deirdre said.

Zilla biffed her. ‘You're not coming so shut it!'

‘Am so!'

‘You are not!' Zilla put her hands on her hips and glared at her sister. Deirdre glared back but, this time, sensed she was beaten. She put her feet on the pedals and gave a half-hearted shove in the direction of home.

‘So? Are you coming down with us? You better. Max's coming and you can talk to him while I talk to Lawrence.'

Missie wasn't all that keen on the prospect of talking to Max, even if that was possible. Max's conversation only ever happened when Max decided that he needed to talk. He wouldn't do it otherwise.

They were sitting on the bench in front of the school gate. They'd hung about for awhile and were pretty well the last to leave. Missie had watched while the Hendersons's dad heaved them up into the back of the ute and rattled off down the road. They were lucky, those Henderson kids. Their dad had put a lounge up against the rear window of the cab so their bums didn't get bounced around when he hit the corrugations on the back roads. They looked real cosy as they huddled together. Dawn waved as they took off and Missie was half-wishing she was going with them. It was only a half wish though. Sometimes the Hendersons came to school with tales about how they'd gone out rabbiting and had to sleep under the dead rabbits to stay warm when their dad was having a good run. Most of the kids knew it was going to be rabbit stew for the next couple of days when they'd heard the Hendersons had been out because Rabbity-John Henderson used to sell his catch at everyone's back doors.

‘What's going on?' Jimmy had arrived. He squatted on the ground and pulled up a piece of grass to chew. ‘We going over to the racecourse or not?'

Missie stood up. Going to the racecourse was a much better option that heading off down to the river.

‘Nah.' Zill answered for them. ‘We're going down the river with Lawrence and Max.'

Jimmy looked at Missie.

‘She's going with Max,' Zilla went on. ‘You can come if you like. You can be with Deirdre.'

Missie longed to say she wasn't going with Max and she didn't give a damn about Lawrence. At least Jimmy might come and then she could mess around with him. ‘I thought you said Deirdre wasn't coming.'

‘Neither am I.' Jimmy stood up slowly. He spat his chewed bit of grass onto the ground and stepped around Missie without looking up. ‘Got stuff I gotta do.'

He didn't look back. He just kept going, stabbing a kick onto a rock that hurtled out into the middle of the road. He kicked it again and then bolted as soon as he got close to the corner. Missie could hear the bump and thud of the books and pencil cases in his bag as he went.

‘Let's go then.' Zill bundled her bag into the basket on her bike. ‘Do you want a double or not?'

Deirdre was hovering close. She wasn't exactly lined up to go with them but she was no longer headed for home either. She had her own bike now. Her mother had bought it when they'd gone back to their house. It was an old one, painted blue but Deirdre loved it. Her basket was stuffed with school books and a cloth bag that bulged over the top so much she'd had to take her hat out and put it on.

‘Miss? Are you coming or not?'

‘I'll catch up.' Missie set off after Jimmy. ‘I want to see what they're doing over at the racecourse first.'

‘Yeah, right. You only want to go because Jimmy Johnson's there.'

‘So? You only want to go down the river because Lawrence is there!'

‘It's different. I asked you to come and made all the plans. I didn't say I was going to go off and leave you. You must like him better than me and I'm your best friend.'

It occurred to Missie then that Zill didn't want to go down to the river without her. She saw herself as a bridge linking Zilla to the world that, up until that moment, she'd have thought was as much Zilla's as hers. In the briefest part of that instant she glimpsed Zilla's uncertainty about venturing off.

Zill needed her.

Missie easily remembered back to the days before Zill, when she wasn't needed by anyone at all for anything. She'd been left out and not sure how to find the right way in. It'd been Zill who'd simply strolled in and taken a place like it had always been there waiting for her to fill it. And the amazing thing was that gradually Missie's place had been discovered in there as well. It was a bit shaky still and Missie wasn't all that keen on days when Zill didn't come to school but it wasn't as bad as before.

Now, though, it was Zill who needed her to find the path in.

But there was Jimmy too.

‘I didn't say I wasn't coming. I just said I wanted to see what they were doing over there.' Jimmy would be too far away if she didn't hurry.

Deirdre wobbled by, trying to go as slow as she could without falling over.

‘Lend us your bike, Deirdre.' Missie was already snatching at the handlebars.

‘Get off!'

‘Go on. I'll come straight back.'

Deirdre pushed hard and reclaimed her handlebars. She pressed down hard on the pedals and was already halfway to the corner before she balanced herself, pedals mid-cycle to call back to them. ‘I'll go see what they're doing and I'll tell Jimmy you love him.'

There was nobody left at the school and it felt as if everyone who lived close by had deserted the place as well. There wasn't a car in sight or even the sound of one from the road over beyond the fields.

‘She won't,' Zilla said. ‘She just says stuff like that.'

Zilla was standing straddling the centre bar, waiting for Missie to climb onto the seat behind her. ‘She really won't,' she went on. ‘She's always doing it. You know ...
I know what you did and I'm going to dob.'
She sashayed her hips in time with her words and then twirled one hand around her ear, almost losing the bike as she did so.
‘I'm gonna do this. I'm gonna tell that!
She's a pest. P.E.S.T.'

She bellowed it into the empty street just as Mrs Callaghan from the old schoolhouse next door stuck her nose out from behind her hedge.

‘Off you go, girls.'

Missie held on tight to Zill's hips. She could feel her starting to laugh and jabbed her to make her stop. Mrs Callaghan would dob on them if they weren't careful and they'd cop it for being cheeky.

‘Somebody should tell your mothers what you get up to after school!' she called out as they wobbled by. ‘Cheeky little tarts!'

They didn't dare look up until they crested the hill and started to pick up speed. By that time Zilla was roaring with laughter and gulping out how she must have been behind the hedge the whole time.

By then Missie had joined in.

It was only for a little while that they'd be down on the riverbank and it might even be fun.

29

By the time the road had levelled out, the sun had dipped behind a low bank of clouds. It seemed to Missie, as she tried to swivel around to relieve the pain in her legs from holding them out past the wheels, that there was no time after school any more. How did they ever fit in walking home? And wandering down to the pool for a swim and still having leftover time to sit on the step and eat a raspberry ice-cube?

‘It's gonna rain,' she yelled. It'd be freezing down by the river if it rained.

Zilla looked up and the bike veered dangerously towards the kerb. ‘Nah. It'll be right.'

She swung the bike across the road to the footpath that ran along the top of the river rise. There was a narrow strip of grass on either side, one separating the path from the road and the other disappearing down into the sudden, steep drop to the riverbank. Hector Smith disappeared down there one night on his way home from the Commercial. Missie heard her mum talking about it in the kitchen with Dot Evans. Dot Evans reckoned he was as full as a goog and that was the only thing that saved him from being hurt.

Missie reckoned there'd be no chance of being hurt. The trees grew so close together it was almost impossible to climb down between them let alone roll down with a big fat belly full of grog.

Zill slowed the bike and Missie got ready. They weren't real good at stopping and usually she finished up pitching hard onto Zilla's back and then both of them lurched and staggered around until they managed to remove themselves from the handlebars and all the other bits on a bike that jabbed at them.

‘Let's go down the road further,' she said as she scrambled free. ‘It's easier to walk back along the bank.'

Zill peered over the ridge.

‘It'll take too long. Come on, we can get down here easy-peasy.'

One after the other they scrambled through decaying mounds of leaves and the tangled branches of the evergreens. The poplars were further down and looked cold and naked without any leaves and their toes almost in the river. Missie shivered in sympathy.

Small, huddled bushes stood in clumps on the very edge of the water, leaving enough room between them for fishermen to find a footing to cast out a line. Logs had been pulled into some of these small, eaten-out hollows to provide seating while the fish were making up their minds about taking bait.

Zilla leapt down into one of these little cavities and balanced on the log. At least it wasn't jutting out into the water.

‘They're not coming,' Missie said.

You could hear the river sluicing by, whispering and sucking as if it was merely waiting for someone to make a mistake. Out in the middle – and Missie didn't like to look out there for too long – branches with bits of leaves still attached twisted as they were dragged down into the muddy depths.

‘They'll be here.' Zill did her ‘walk the plank', arms tight behind her back like Wendy in
Peter Pan:
head up, one foot in front of the other. When she got to the end she kept her head up and jumped, landing both feet in the mud. ‘Er, yuk!'

‘Better than a crocodile,' Missie said.

‘Or a shark. What d'you reckon'd be the best? A shark or a crocodile?'

A small rock landed in the water in front of them. Then another. This was followed by a stream of water which poured from a branch in one of the taller trees.

Missie searched around looking for the source and then, when she found it, looked quickly away. She heard Zill shriek and make a big production about leaping up and out of the way.

‘What'd you do that for?' she yelled as Lawrence buttoned his trousers. ‘You could have got us.'

Lawrence sniggered and said something to Max who was seated further down in a more comfortable fork. He looked, for all the world, as comfy as if he were in any of the chairs at home. His arms were crossed and he leaned back along the junction of a branch and the trunk of the tree.

‘Come down here and try this,' Zill called.

Lawrence scrambled down, taking his time once he hit the ground to climb the last little way and join Zill back on her log.

‘I reckon we could move this,' she said. ‘Here, give us a hand.'

Missie stood back.

She didn't care what happened – she was not, definitely not, going to walk out on that log.

Lawrence pushed it around and then stood back. ‘What're we doing this for anyway?'

‘I'm going to show you something.'

Carefully she stepped up onto the log. It rolled slightly before it settled into its new mud home.

‘Give us your hand,' Zill called as she braced from one leg to the other, making sure of her balance.

‘Oh yeah. And I'll be standing in the water. You're mad, you are! If you fall in you've had it!' Lawrence stood back with his arms crossed, daring her in spite of his words to go further out.

Zilla did, and then turned around and nimbly ran all the way back to leap in the air and land in a star jump. ‘Not bad, eh?'

Lawrence didn't say anything. He looked back up to where Max was still sitting in the tree, watching.

‘You said you had something to show us,' Lawrence said when he turned back.

‘I just did!'

Missie picked at a green leaf. She shredded it, bit by bit. By looking up, under her fringe, she could see Max. He wasn't stirring but he was a part of it.

‘Show us something else,' Lawrence said.

‘Like what?'

Lawrence stood on the leftover roots at the end of the log. It made him head and shoulders taller than Zill, and he stood with his arms crossed, blocking her way.

‘You know what.'

Zilla squealed and jumped sideways, grabbing at bushes to haul herself up and away. ‘Gotta catch me first!'

Lawrence was after her. He used Missie as a lever to hike himself back up the ledge and onto the bank. Zilla was already away and scrambling along the track. Her footsteps weren't the lovely crisp autumn sounds. Now they were heavy thudding as she heaved herself from one damp place to another.

‘Help! Missie!' her voice sang back through the bush. She was laughing and more crashing rang back down the bank, and a squeal as she lurched her way to freedom.

Missie didn't want to play. The ground was damp and smelt bad and her feet were like blocks of ice. There didn't seem to be any way of getting out of here without joining in for a bit. At least then she could say she had to go home and they wouldn't be able to call her a spoilsport.

She didn't have to move, though. Before she had time to set off, Zilla was hurtling past with Lawrence hot in pursuit.

‘Grab him!' Zill yelled.

Missie tried to grab but managed only to snatch a piece of shirt. Lawrence twisted himself free and Missie had a moment to see the intensity in his face as he charged off again. He wasn't laughing. This wasn't a game like the ones they used to play.

She caught a glimpse of Max, who'd drifted further down. He looked across at her and she recalled the last time she'd been bailed up by the pair of them.

Zill's squeals pierced the cold air as she thrashed her way back again. ‘Can't catch me!' she cried as she leapt around behind one tree and then, just as quickly, reversed direction and popped up behind another.

Lawrence tried to out-dodge her but she was too fast. He was, however, herding her, little by little, towards the bulkier tree that sheltered Max.

‘Come on, slow coach!' Zilla leapt back and disappeared.

There was a sudden quick scurry and then stillness. Missie started forward and was in time to see Max, arms outstretched, herding her back towards Lawrence. He hadn't said a word, simply opened his arms, lowered his shoulders and danced, crab-like to stop her getting by.

He looked grotesque. He looked like the awful, dreadful man she'd seen at the pictures who lived in the church steeple and rang the bells.

Missie lifted her hands up and slammed forward, bringing them down in the middle of Lawrence's back.

‘Run!' she howled. ‘Run Zill!'

They took off, easily outdistancing the boys. Max wouldn't even have run. Missie knew that but she wasn't too sure about Lawrence.

She glanced back and saw him, wandering along like he didn't care that he'd been outsmarted.

Zill stopped. She turned around and laughed. A good laugh, as if it had been a good chase. Maybe for her it was. Maybe she hadn't noticed how Max looked when he'd tried to head her off.

‘Hurry up,' she called to them. ‘I'll wait for you if you don't take all afternoon.'

Missie kept going. ‘I'm going home,' she said. ‘Mum'll be calling and I'll cop it if I'm not there.'

It was a lie. Her mother would be calling all right, but she wouldn't have been calling long so Missie wouldn't be really late. She'd be happy to get home, though, and snug down in front of the fireplace. And she had a new book from the library.

She ambled along the track by the river. It was further this way and she'd have a long, hard uphill walk to get back to where they'd left the bike but she didn't care. The track here was well worn and not as squelchy as the other one.

She could hear the others somewhere behind her, their voices lifting every now and then as Zill danced about entertaining Lawrence.

Max, she was sure, would have already gone on home. Never, in the whole time that she lived in his house had Missie known him to chase anyone. Or play games.

She drifted on, lost in a dream of warm fires and good books. Once she thought she heard footsteps skidding down over the heaps of leaves and looked up in time to see Oleksander straightening up. He was turning and so didn't see her when she lifted her hand to wave at him.

He'd been sitting there, she guessed, with his drawing book like he was the day she'd spied him down at the wharf. Just as well Zill hadn't seen him. She'd be going on about him being a perv again.

He walked into the scrubbier trees that clustered together higher up the bank and she saw she was right. He held his book against him as he swerved down under a branch.

She hurried a little, thinking she might catch up with him on the top path and then they could walk home together. She was puffing by the time she got to the top but he wasn't there. It surprised her, really, because it was a bit of a struggle getting up that bank and she was sure he'd not be so far ahead of her but, there you go. He was nowhere to be seen.

Zilla's bike was still there though.

And Deirdre's. No Deirdre though. The bundle that had been in the basket was gone but the school books were still there. They'd be ruined if it rained on them. Missie stepped closer to try and cover them a bit.

‘Hey!'

Missie almost leapt out of her skin.

‘Is that your bike?' Wally Watson was holding his little dog in his arms and pointing to a bike.

‘It's mine.' Zilla said as she ambled up. Lawrence must have gone off by himself.

‘Well, you want to be a bit more careful where you put it. Young Errol here got himself caught in the spokes. Had hell's own trouble getting his lead untangled.'

Missie felt her lip start to twitch and didn't dare look across at Zilla.

‘Damn near took him down the hill and into the drink!' Wally went on. ‘Poor little beggar. Running as hard as he could to get away from it and its going after him. Scared him half to death, it did!'

Missie exploded.

‘Oh, that's right. Have a good laugh! You mark my words, young lady. This bike better not be here next time Errol and me go past or I'll be calling into the police station to come and fetch it!'

‘Sorry,' Zilla managed as Missie tried to stop another explosion. ‘I'm taking it now.'

‘So you'd better!'

The girls held together until Wally and Errol shuffled off over the road and down to the pub.

‘I'm off,' Zill said. ‘Lawrence is going to ride home with me. He's gone to get his bike.'

‘What about Deirdre?'

Zilla looked down in the bush. It was darker down there now and the branches seeped coldness. It touched red moisture to the ends of their noses. Already Missie was doing a little foot-to-foot dance to keep herself warm.

‘She'll be right,' Zill said. ‘She'll see we're gone and come back up. She's probably on the way now.'

They looked back down the path, following it to the curve where it dipped sharply to lead down to the pool. The streetlight had come on but it didn't light the way. It only hit the top of the fence, making the mesh look as if it was floating between the trees.

They waited, expecting at any moment to see Deirdre's head appear over the rise.

‘Yeah,' Zilla said. ‘She'll be on her way back already.'

Another figure rode into view.

Lawrence.

He waited on his side of the road for Zilla to join him.

‘Here.' Zill emptied the school bags out of the basket. ‘Here's yours. And tell Deirdre to hurry up when you see her.'

Missie watched them go, then she ran along the path. Her breath was clouding in front of her as she peered down the hill trying to make out Deirdre's shape.

Nothing.

Nothing except frozen fingers and toes too cold to even try to dance them into warmth.

She ran back along the path. If Deirdre's bike was still there she was never going to see it standing here. And she'd probably walk all the way back again and find out bloody Deirdre had come up the other way, through the trees.

It was getting really dark now. She stood on tiptoe. It should be there, right there near the crack in the footpath.

It was impossible to tell. Night shadows of trees and dips and holes along the side of the path weren't helping. She wasn't heading all the way back along there to check. It'd be a waste of time and it was bloody freezing. Of course she'd be gone by now. She wasn't stupid and it was getting dark.