A Little Wanting Song (13 page)

I’ve been to our camping spot a hundred times but it’s always the same—you never find it without getting lost first. When we were kids, Dad made us tie ribbons on the trees that led in from the road. “If you can’t find the way back to the site, follow the markers,” he said. I guess he figured sooner or later Luke would do something stupid and convince us to go wandering at night.

“Got your ribbons?” he asked before I left today. I patted my bag. I put them in more for Charlie than me. She doesn’t know the bush.

She catches her breath when we come round the corner. In the middle of the dryness you forget that places like this exist. The river opens all of a sudden; it’s wider here than anywhere else, and on a still night you get the feeling if you jumped through it’d shatter.

“It’s gorgeous,” Charlie says. “I’ve never been camping before.”

“You’re here every summer,” Dave says. “I would’ve thought you’d been loads.”

“Dad’s never around long enough, and there’s the shop to run.”

“And if her grandpa took her camping, there’d be no hamburgers and chips,” Luke says.

“Is that all you think about?” Dave asks. “Burgers and chips?”

“Mostly I think about sex.”

“You’re a dickhead.” Dave looks embarrassed, which I’m thinking is because Luke said “sex” in front of Charlie. Luke can say “sex” as much as he likes, but he’s not getting that from me. Not in the back of a car. Not in a tent. Not in a million years.

I’m here to look at this place one last time before I ask Charlie to help me get to the city and things change for good. I’m visiting so I can remember it when I’m gone.

“Why’s it so cold tonight?” Luke asks. But we get nights like this in summer every now and then; the wind starts up and the sky cracks when you’re expecting it to stay still.

Dave stares at Charlie and keeps shifting closer to her, and every time he does she sits even stiller, like that river. I get the feeling it’s a different story on the inside of her. She says she has to go to the toilet, and Dave’s up before she is, showing her the way.

“So Dave’s on with the Dorkin,” Luke says after they’ve gone.

“Luke, don’t hassle them.”

“Did I miss something? Are you and Charlie best friends now?”

“I like her.”

“You used to call her Charlie Dorkin all the time, remember?” He hunches his shoulders and brushes his hair into his face.

I try not to laugh. “Stop it.”

“She can’t think for herself. She follows everything you do.”

“Shhh …” I reach over and put my hand on his mouth. I don’t want him to be angry tonight. This could be the last camping trip we have.

Dave comes back before Charlie. “She said she could find her own way.”

Luke pushes my hand off his mouth. “Do you remember Rose making up that song about Charlie?”

“I never sang it to her face.”

“You sang it in your backyard once.” Dave looks over his shoulder.

“Charlie Dorkin, Charlie Dorkin …,” Luke sings.

“Do you think she heard me?” I ask, laughing because Luke’s making this stupid face at me.

“Probably,” Dave says. “What does it matter now?” Luke sings it again.

“Shut up. She’ll be back soon.” Dave swings the torch over us. The light casts shadow monsters on our skin.

Dave stands and stretches and then sits back closer to me. He’s done that about five times and I work out there’s only one stretch till there’s no air between us. I’ve got stars in my blood, burning light under my skin.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I say, and he stands before I’ve finished my sentence. We walk close; there’s almost nothing between us. Our torches throw light ahead but we’re in shadows behind them. Dave’s the smell of oil and grass and the sound of cracking sticks. I’m stumbling breath.

There’s one small light on over the toilet block. He shuffles underneath it. “Can you find your way back?” he asks.

“I’ll follow the markers Rose left. Snakes sleep at night, yeah?”

“Of course,” he says, and I don’t know if he’s telling the truth or lying to make me feel better.

I’m quick because of the possible snakes and because I think that when I get back I might sit that last stretch closer. I might actually get some of the things I’m wanting. A summer of Dave, of swimming at the river, of going to the falls, of kissing.

I stop for a minute in the trees at the edge of our camp so I can take in the sounds and write about them later. Cicadas and mosquitoes. Night birds. Water not far away. Luke and Rose and Dave laughing.

The name Dorkin stops me like a bullet. It sinks past my clothes and into my chest. It’s Luke who sings it, but I don’t care about him. I care about Rose laughing. “She’ll be back soon,” Dave says, and that hurts more than Luke and Rose put together. She. He didn’t even use my name.

I stand in the cold, the twigs scratching at my legs. I stand there going over the day at the falls and how he danced with me and how he talked to my grandpa, and none of it makes sense. Why would a guy do all of that and then laugh behind my back? Unless it was a joke. I imagine what Louise would say. I mean, why else would a guy not make a move when he’s in your bedroom, Charlie? Hello. Wake up.

I’m awake. I’m wide awake. Who does something like this to someone? “Charlie, are you lost?” Dave calls through the trees. “Follow the markers Rose left.” I don’t move. Those markers don’t lead anywhere I want to go.

When I’m playing the guitar, my hands move by instinct.
I don’t think about chord changes or whether I can make them fast enough. I just do it. My instinct’s telling me to walk out of here tonight. It’s telling me to stop at the camp for a second. Long enough to say, You’re all dickheads. Long enough to look Rose Butler in the eyes and tell her she’s a bitch.

But it’s dark and I won’t find my way to the road on my own. So I stay where I am until Dave’s footsteps come toward me. I let him lead me back to the others. “I didn’t notice I was lost till it was too late,” I say.

For the rest of the night, Dave passes me marshmallows. There’s no fire but they’re ash in my mouth. Every time they laugh, I hear my name: Charlie Dorkin. Rose’s eyes are hidden by shadow, but I imagine they’re mean now, like thick lemon skin, bright as the sun but sour underneath.

“Night, Charlie,” Rose says. Luke makes a sign with his hands and my face burns. I watch as they disappear into one tent. No one talked about where we’d sleep. I thought Rose and I would share. So this is why they asked me. The last part of the plan is for Dave to make me feel like a complete idiot. There are idiots here, but I’m not one of them.

I wrap my jumper tight around me and move away from him. We sit like that for a long time, not saying anything. He looks confused but I don’t explain. Work it out for yourself, wanker.

“I’m going to sleep,” Dave says eventually. “Here.” He throws his jacket beside me. “If you’re sitting up, you’ll need this.”

I stare at my hands until I hear the tent flap zip. I wait until
the cold sinks into me and settles for the night. I wait until I think Dave will be asleep and then I slip into the sleeping bag next to him. I concentrate on being still as the sides of the tent breathe in and out around us.

“Is something wrong?” Dave’s voice runs down my arms and fingers. His breath smells of marshmallows and chips and oil and grass and waiting. Waiting for someone who’s mine. This isn’t real, though. Dave doesn’t like me. There’s no point in thinking about his breath. That breath is not for me. His bird tattoo is not for me, either, or his jokes or his half-dancing ways.

“I didn’t know about the tents,” he says. “I didn’t plan anything.”

It finally starts to rain, soft trails of water running down the canvas. “‘Storm’ is a funny word,” he says, but I pretend to be asleep. I really wish I had my guitar. I don’t want to sing to Dave. I want to smash him over the head with it.

A Slightly Longer Wanting Song

It’s just a slightly longer wanting song
It still won’t take me all that long
Just long enough to say
How much I’m wishing for
Just a little more
Than what I wished that song before

Charlie comes back from the bathroom restless, eating marshmallows that Dave passes her, looking at her watch and out into the bush. She’s waiting for something and I know how she feels. Luke shines the torch in my face and I close my eyes and see city lights. I open them and she’s staring. I smile.

“What’s up with you?” Luke asks. I kiss him and laugh. I’m not staring at cars tonight. The road’s in me. Tomorrow Charlie’ll tell me what happened with Dave, and I’ll tell her about the scholarship, and she’ll invite me to stay with her. The interview’s at the end of January. If Charlie asks her dad after New Year’s Eve, and Mum and Dad agree, I can be gone by next month. I kiss Luke again. “Night,” I say. Luke gives Dave a not-so-secret sign and I punch him. It’s not me who’s always pushing. Inside the tent we kiss like I knew we would. I want
this and I want to be away at the same time. His hands move farther and my skin sparks and I keep thinking that if I don’t leave this town soon I’ll do this with Luke. I’ll do it and be like Mum. Stuck in a town because of one stupid mistake. I push his hands off.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m tired.”

I know Luke. Know how he breathes when he’s confused. Know how he breathes before he falls into sleep. I lie next to him and listen to him snoring. Nothing’ll wake him now.

“Luke,” I whisper, so quiet I can barely hear myself. I sort of mouth it; it’s not like I’m cheating, saying it while he’s sleeping. I’m practicing; I can’t tell him when he’s awake yet, and it’s squashing against my chest more with every day that I don’t say it.

“There’s something I have to tell you. Don’t be angry, but I’m leaving at the end of summer. See, I passed this test and won a scholarship. Mrs. Wesson told me about it. I get to do Years Eleven and Twelve at this great school. And that’s why I don’t want to, you know, do anything with you that might make me have to stay. Like Mum did with Dad. She’d be halfway across the world right now if she hadn’t … I’ve been thinking about that a lot. How one mistake changed her whole life and—”

“Rosie?” His voice cuts me off and I freeze. “I’m not asleep.”

Shit.

He leans up on his elbow and blinks a bit so his eyes adjust to the darkness. “When did you find out?”

“Before the holidays. I was going to tell you.”

“So how come you didn’t?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure what you’d think.”

“I bet you told your new friend,” he says.

“I didn’t. Mum might not even let me go. Luke, don’t say anything yet.”

He’s quiet for a minute and the rain starts to fall. “That’s it. You want to leave with her. You’re using her.”

“I’m not. I like Charlie.”

“Bullshit. She’s your ticket out of this place.”

“Please don’t tell her yet.”

He turns over without answering. I feel like Luke and I are on an island that’s sinking and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can swim, though. If Luke can’t, then it’s too bad. He’s had sixteen years to learn.

Everyone’s quiet on the way out. It’s late afternoon and I don’t think we’ve said more than five words all day. Dave stays behind me. Luke strides out in front. Charlie walks to the side of all of us, snapping off branches as she moves.

“What did you do to her, Dave?” I ask after she goes inside her house.

“I didn’t do a thing. She wouldn’t even talk to me.”

“Well, somebody did something. Luke?”

“What about you, Rose?” Dave snaps. “That was stupid, making her share a tent with me. Did you think that was funny?”

“No. I thought—”

“I don’t reckon you thought at all.”

The three of us stare at each other. Dave never yells. And he never yells at me. “Just forget it,” he says, and walks away.

“I guess since you’re leaving, you don’t need us anymore. Don’t you care about Dave, either?”

“You can talk. You’re the one who gets him in trouble with his dad all the time.”

“What’s that got to do with you? Dave can do what he likes.” He spits on the ground.

“That’s disgusting, Luke.”

“No, Rose,” he says. “That’s not what’s disgusting.”