White Ute Dreaming (8 page)

D
AD WAS HAPPY TO SEE ME
. E
RNIE FREAKED OUT
. H
E DIDN'T
make any noise but his whole body shook as he darted between my legs and jumped up on me. Dad had cleaned up the van a bit so I'd have somewhere to sleep. It smelt like dunny spray. He asked me how the funeral went and I told him it was good. Good? I dunno. How are funerals supposed to go? It was shit. They burnt my favourite uncle. I hated it. It was spooky. ‘Good' will do.

It was half past eleven by the time I crawled into my sleeping bag. Ernie couldn't decide whether to sleep with Dad or me. He eventually chose Dad. Dad turned the light off, but left the radio on. Man after my own heart, that one.

‘It's good that you could come and stay, Wayne,' he said.

Good?

‘Thanks for having me, Dad. It was a bit off sleeping in a dead man's house.'

Dad grunted. ‘Goodnight.'

‘Yep.'

Some time during the night Ernie jumped up on my bed and scared the living marbles out of me. I lay there
waiting for my heart to slow down and I could hear Dad popping. He sort of spits air out when he snores like he's whispering ‘poooor' and the ‘P' sound pops. I could hear a domestic going on somewhere on the other side of the park. A bloke and a woman having a shouting match and a little kid crying. It was a long way off but it hurt my ears to hear it so I pulled my head inside the sleeping bag.

Dad woke up before it was light outside. Had to pee and he went all the way to the toilet block. I would have gone on the grass outside the door. Stood on the step of the van and made like a sprinkler at the footy oval. I couldn't get back to sleep so I got dressed and decided to walk back to the flat. I told Dad that I had to get my uniform and that I'd see him in the afternoon. He croaked goodbye and climbed back into bed. Ernie climbed up with him.

There's something about that time of day when the stars are going to bed and the sun's coming up. It's awesome. Pity you have to get up so early to see it. I saw a woman running under the streetlights on the other side of the road. She looked fit and it made me want to jog so I did. Twenty steps later I got over the feeling and walked the rest of the way. I let myself in the back door with the key from under the pot plant. The joint stunk. Real stale sort of pong so I whipped around and opened all the windows and turned the telly on. Someone selling a diamond necklace for $199.95. At least it was someone. I made some cereal but the milk tasted like yoghurt so I chucked it out the back for the birds. The clock on the microwave was flashing; so was the one on the video. The power must have gone out while we were away. The battery clock in Mum's room said it was seven o'clock so I rang the time on the phone. ‘. . . It will be six fifty-seven and twenty seconds . . .
pip . . . pip . . . pip. At the third stroke it will . . .' Jeez, two hours to kill until school starts. I made some toast and had the world's second longest shower. My bike! Still up at the Humes'. Before I'd thought about it, I'd phoned.

Kez answered. ‘Hello, Hume residence. This is Kerry.'

I muffled the mouthpiece with my Windcheater. ‘Give me all your money or the cat dies.'

‘Wayne! Where are you? Are you okay?'

‘You're supposed to stress out, you dog. I'm not Wayne, I'm one of those . . . what do they call them? Blackmail dudes.'

‘Oh sorry,' she said, and started squealing. ‘Good God. It's you! Don't hurt him, please. I'll give you anything.'

‘Anything?'

‘Well, almost anything.'

‘Your left breast?'

‘Cor. You're off. No. I'll give you the pen with the string that's tied to the phone table.'

‘Right, it's a deal. Meet me at the locker bay at oh-nine hundred hours to make the exchange.'

‘What time is that?'

‘I dunno. I just made it up. Ask Den, he's into all that stuff.'

Muffled silence. ‘He said nine o'clock in the morning.'

‘Yeah. That's what I meant. Goodbye.'

‘No, wait, Wayne.'

I clicked my tongue and booped like a phone that had been hung up.

‘Bastard. Are you okay? What happened?'

‘I'm okay. He died and they burnt him.'

‘Oh. How sad. Where are you?'

‘Where am I? At the phone,' I said.

‘Which phone?'

‘The one with all the numbers on the front.'

‘Wayne! It's too early for this sort of shit,' she grumbled.

‘Do you still love me?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Did you miss me?'

‘Yeah. Of course.'

‘Good. I'm at the flat. I need my bike to get to school.'

‘Thought you might. It's in the mower shed,' she said triumphantly.

‘How did it get there?'

‘I put it there.'

‘You rode my bike?'

‘Yep. Rode it to school then to your place—without smashing into anything or anyone—and walked home from the flat yesterday.'

‘It's a boys' bike.'

‘So?'

‘Girls don't ride boys' bikes and boys don't ride girls' bikes. Didn't you know that?'

‘Nope. That's a newie.'

‘Just check you didn't get boy germs on your bum. You'll start growing a knob.'

‘You are very sick. I've got to go.'

‘Why? I'm not good enough for you?'

‘No. I've got to catch the bus. See you at school,' she said, and hung up. Just like that. I think the knob joke might have taken it a bit far. Damn.

I waited for Kez in the breezeway near my locker. She marched in and dropped her bag so she could hug me.
Almost bowled me over. She smelt like incense.

‘Sorry,' she said into my neck.

‘What for?'

‘Being such a paranoid bitch.'

I pushed her off me and pretended to slap her across the face. ‘Don't talk about my girlfriend like that or I'll have to deck you.'

She laughed and hugged me again.

‘I'm the one who should be saying sorry,' I said into her hair.

‘Yeah, that's right. So say it.'

‘Sorry,' I said, and she squeezed.

Den was standing behind her twiddling his thumbs and pretending to whistle.

‘Don't look now,' I said, ‘but I think we have visitors.'

She saw it was Den and hugged me harder. ‘Just ignore him. He'll go away.'

‘Thanks, slagheap,' Den said, and kicked a locker door closed. The bell rang for form assembly. Kez kissed me on the cheek and ran off. She darted back to pick up her bag and I opened my locker. She kissed me again and nicked off again. I was glad she did. A note dropped out when I opened the door and my heart rattled. Same sort of envelope as before. Same sort of writing as before. I stashed it in my pencil case while Den ferreted through the mess in his locker looking for his SOSE books.

‘Your uncle died?' he asked on the way to form assembly.

‘Yeah. He had cancer. He died at home in the same room I was in. Got to see my first dead person.'

‘Cool,' he said. I thought that would appeal to him.

‘Pity it was my best uncle in the whole world.'

‘Yeah, sorry to hear that, mate.'

He couldn't sit still in SOSE. Neither could I.

‘It's my last day in this hole and I'm itching to do something,' he said.

‘Got any smokes?' I asked.

‘Yeah. Why?'

‘Why don't you just light up?'

A smile danced on his lips and he rummaged in his bag. He showed me the pack but didn't pull it out.

‘You have one and I'll have one,' he said.

‘Get stuffed. It's
your
last day here, not mine.'

‘Would be if you lit up with me. Ha ha.'

I stuck my hand up.

‘What?' Den whispered.

Mrs Jenkins asked me what I wanted.

‘May I go to the toilet please, Miss?'

She sighed. ‘You've been here six minutes, Wayne. You got a homebrand bladder or a thick skull? Go on. Hurry up. Remember that I can see you all the way to the toilets.'

I grabbed my pencil case and headed for the door.

‘Can I go too, Miss?' Den asked.

‘Yes. When Wayne comes back,' she said. ‘Wayne, you don't need to take your pencil case to the toilet do you?'

‘Umm. Yeah. I do. Dennis is going a bit spaz and I don't trust him with my stuff.'

‘Put it up here. I'll look after it. Get going.'

I unzipped my case and stuck the note up my sleeve. I thought I'd been really secretive but Mrs Jenkins had tilted her head back and looked down her nose at me.

Dear Wayne,

Would you kiss me now you know who I am?
Yes                
No

If yes, how would you kiss?
Peck on the cheek
On the lips
Full on with tongue