Blabber Mouth (9 page)

After a few moments I went looking for Dad.

He wasn't in the marquee.

He wasn't in any of the classrooms.

He wasn't in the Gents.

I went back to the oval thinking perhaps he'd decided to buy a book called
How To Win Friends And Influence People
which had been the next item in the auction, but when I got there the auction was over and people were starting to leave.

Amanda came running up.

‘I just saw him driving out of the car park,' she said breathlessly.

I knew that might happen. I knew he might need a bit longer to think about it. Before we talk.

Amanda was looking at me in a very concerned way, so I explained to her that everything was under control.

Ms Dunning saw me and started to come over, but then Darryn Peck, who'd got overexcited at his big brother being the centre of attention, managed to set fire to one of the marquee flaps and Ms Dunning had to attend to that.

Mr and Mrs Cosgrove came over.

Mr Cosgrove was beaming.

‘Well, young lady,' he said, ‘for someone who can't speak, you certainly put that loud-mouthed father of yours in his place.'

Amanda squeezed my hand, which helped me not to do anything ugly.

They've just given me a lift home.

I made Mr Cosgrove drop me at the bottom of the orchard road because I don't think Dad'll want to see him at the moment.

I'm not even sure he'll want to see me.

Searching the orchard was a waste of time because after I'd searched the house and the shed I realised the truck'd gone so it stands to reason he has too but I searched the orchard anyway because a tiny part of me was hoping he was playing the game we used to play when I was a little kid where he'd hide in our old orchard and I'd have to try and find him and as I got closer and closer he'd make little raspberry noises with his mouth to give me a clue and when I found him he'd let me walk back to the house in his boots even though they came over my knees and I did a pee in one of them once.

He wasn't.

He's gone.

If I say it in my head enough times I'll get used to it and stop feeling so numb and then I can think what to do.

He's gone.

He's gone.

He's gone.

I'm still numb.

I can't even stand up.

I've been sitting here since I came back from the orchard and saw the letters on the kitchen table.

One was my letter to him from Carla Tamworth.

The other was in his writing on a piece of Rice Bubbles packet.

‘Dear Ro,' it said, ‘I feel pretty crook about all this and I don't want to think about it right now so I'm taking a hike. Go and stay with Amanda. Dad.'

He never calls me Ro.

On the table under the letters was eighty dollars.

Then I saw the cupboard where I'd stuffed the Carla Tamworth letter.

The door was open and the old bottle of rum that Dad hadn't chucked away in case a visitor wanted a drink was lying on the floor.

Empty.

That's when I knew I'd lost him.

Amanda and her family were pretty surprised when I arrived on the tractor.

They came out onto their front verandah and stared.

I explained what had happened, and how I'd needed the tractor because I'd brought all my clothes with me and I'd never have got the suitcase to their place by hand.

Mr and Mrs Cosgrove made me explain it all again.

Isn't it amazing how you can still do complicated explanations even when you're completely and totally numb inside your head?

Amanda was great.

She rushed over and dragged the suitcase off the tractor and said I could stay with them for the rest of my life if I wanted to.

Mr and Mrs Cosgrove were good too.

After I'd parked the tractor in their driveway next to their car and the colour had come back into their cheeks, they took me into the house and gave me a glass of pineapple juice and some chocolate biscuits and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich.

Even Amanda's little brother Wayne was fairly good.

When he'd finished telling everyone I couldn't have his room and I wasn't allowed to use his cricket gear or his bug-catcher or his video games, he disappeared and came back with a toothbrush which he said I could share with him as he only used it to clean the points on his train set about once a week.

I thanked him and explained I'd brought my own.

Amanda and me went and made up the camp bed in her room.

Then we sat on it and Amanda asked how I felt.

‘Numb,' I said.

Even saying that one word wasn't easy because suddenly my hands were shaking so much.

She looked at me, concerned and puzzled.

‘I don't understand,' she said. ‘You feel like a dentist?'

I was just about to tell her again when suddenly I didn't feel numb any more, I felt completely and totally sick and I had to run to the toilet.

I wasn't sick but I had to lean against the wall while I shivered and cold sweat dripped off me.

Amanda's anxious voice came through the door.

‘Are you OK?' she asked.

I opened the door and told her I'd be fine and that I'd see her back in her room.

I didn't want her skinning her knuckles trying to open the door with a knife.

After a bit I felt less shaky, so I came out.

On my way back I stopped in the hallway because I could hear Mr and Mrs Cosgrove talking about me in the living room.

‘Sergeant Vinelli said there's not much they can do tonight,' said Mr Cosgrove. ‘They'll put out a search call for him in the morning. Oh, and Child Welfare will have to be informed.'

‘I'll see Mr Fowler at school tomorrow,' said Mrs Cosgrove. ‘He's probably the best person to handle it. Poor kid. We should get the Community Service Committee to start a fund to help tragic cases like hers.'

‘I hope they catch that hoon,' said Mr Cosgrove, ‘and throw him in jail.'

I almost went in there and asked him how he'd feel if he'd just been humiliated in front of half the town.

But I didn't because, let's face it, you probably can't change people.

Mr Cosgrove'll probably always hate Dad and Dad'll probably always love eye-damaging shirts and there's probably nothing me or the Prime Minister or anyone can do about it.

Anyway, I didn't have the energy for another run-in with Mr Cosgrove because what with reading Dad's letter, and having the shakes in the bathroom, and standing there in the hallway realising I was back to being a project, I was feeling pretty depressed.

I went back to Amanda's room and went to bed.

‘Ro,' said Amanda, ‘I'm sorry about your dad, but I'm really glad you're here.'

‘Thanks,' I said.

Mr and Mrs Cosgrove came in and said good-night, and Mrs Cosgrove squeezed my hand and said she was sure everything would turn out fine.

I think it was them kissing Amanda that did it.

Suddenly I missed everyone so much.

Mum.

Erin.

Dad.

I managed to hang on till Mr and Mrs Cosgrove had switched the light out and closed the door, then I felt something rushing up from deep in my guts and the tears just poured out of me.

I didn't want them to, not in someone else's house, but I couldn't help it.

I pushed my face into the pillow and sobbed so hard I thought I'd never stop.

Then I felt someone get into the bed behind me.

It was Amanda.

She put her arms round me and stroked my hair while I cried and suddenly I didn't feel like a project at all, just a friend.

It's amazing how much better you feel after a cry and a sleep.

I reckon if people had more cries and sleeps, they woudn't need half the aspirin and ulcer medicine and rum in the world.

I don't feel numb this morning, or sick.

Just sad.

But life must go on.

That's what my teacher at my old school said after Erin died. The human organism, she said, can survive any amount of sadness if it keeps busy. She was a doctor, so she knew.

I'm keeping busy now.

I'm having this conversation in my head.

Plus I'm making apple fritters for Mr and Mrs Cosgrove and Amanda and Wayne's breakfasts.

Plus I'm putting a lot of effort into not making too much noise because it's only five-thirty and I don't want them to wake up till the fritters are done.

Plus I'm thinking.

I'm thinking how even though I feel very, very sad, I feel kind of relieved too.

All my life I've had this worry, deep down, that Dad would leave.

Now I don't have to worry about it any more, because he has.

I don't blame him, not really.

He's got his life too.

Who knows, he might finally meet a woman who doesn't embarrass easily and they might have a baby and he might finally get to have a daughter who can speak.

I wish I hadn't thought that, because now I'm crying again.

This morning would have been a disaster without Amanda.

First, while I was sitting in the kitchen making the drying-up cloth all soggy with tears, she smelt the smoke from the fritters and ran in and pulled them off the stove before the kitchen burnt down.

Then, when Mr Cosgrove came rushing out of his bedroom with a fire extinguisher, she explained to him that I always make fritters when I'm depressed, plus they were for his breakfast.

He shouted quite a bit, but she stood up to him.

I was proud of her.

Then, after Mrs Cosgrove had driven us to school and had gone off to see Mr Fowler, Amanda took my arm and we walked in through the gate together.

It's amazing how quickly word gets around in a small country town.

Every kid in that playground just stood and stared.

‘What's the matter with you lot?' said Amanda. ‘Haven't you ever seen an abandoned kid before?'

It wasn't the best line I'd ever heard, but it was better than I could have done at the time, and I was really grateful.

Everyone carried on staring.

Except Darryn Peck.

He swaggered over and I saw he was carrying a jar with a frog in it.

The biggest frog I'd ever seen.

Then I remembered.

The race.

‘S'pose you'll want to chicken out now,' Darryn said to me with a smirk.

Amanda took a step towards him.

‘She's not chickening out,' she said, ‘she's just not feeling well. I'll race you.'

‘Loser eats this, ‘said Darryn, holding up the frog.

‘I know,' said Amanda.

I felt like hugging her, but I didn't because emotionally deprived kids like Darryn Peck don't understand real friendship and they use it to get cheap laughs.

‘Thanks,' I said to her, ‘but I want to do it.'

I think she understood what my hands were saying.

Anyway, she understood what my face was saying.

I turned to Darryn and poked myself in the chest, and then poked him in the chest.

He understood what I was saying.

‘Lunch time,' he said.

I nodded.

The frog gurgled.

All morning in class Ms Dunning behaved very strangely.

She hardly looked at me, and didn't ask me a single question.

To show her I needed to be kept busy, one time when she asked Megan O'Donnell a question I just walked out the front and wrote the answer on the board.

It didn't make any difference. I still spent the rest of the morning with my hand in the air, being ignored.

I couldn't understand it.

I looked at Amanda and I saw she couldn't understand it either.

Then things became clearer.

The lunch bell went, and Ms Dunning said, ‘Ro, could I see you in the staff room please?'

The staff room was deserted because the other teachers were out on the oval taking down the marquee.

Usually when a teacher and a kid have a conversation in the staff room, the teacher stands still and the kid does a lot of nervous shuffling about.

Today with me and Ms Dunning it was the opposite.

I stood there while she did a lot of nervous shuffling about.

‘Ro,' she said, ‘before your dad disappeared, did he say anything about me?'

I shook my head.

Ms Dunning shuffled some more.

She looked pretty worried.

I wrote her a note.

‘What's the matter?' I asked.

She read it and took a deep breath, but didn't say anything.

‘It's OK,' I said, ‘I won't blab to anyone else.'

She read that and gave a worried little smile.

‘Ro,' she said after what seemed like a couple of months, ‘your dad wants me to be his girlfriend, but I don't.'

I nodded. I knew that.

‘And,' continued Ms Dunning, ‘I told him that yesterday, just before your message in the sky, just before he disappeared.'

I didn't know that.

‘And,' Ms Dunning went on, ‘I'm worried that's why he's gone missing.'

I wrote her a long note telling her not to be silly, that my message was the reason he'd gone. Writing it made me feel incredibly sad. To cheer us both up, I asked her to be the line judge for my race with Darryn Peck.

She smiled and said yes.

Most of the school was out on the oval, lining both sides of the running track.

As Ms Dunning took her position, she saw the frog in the jar on the other side of the finish line.

"What's that?' she asked.

The whole school held its breath.

I did too.

If the race was banned now, Darryn'd be crowing for months about how he'd have won.

‘It's what they're racing for,' said Amanda.

That girl's a future Prime Minister.

Ms Dunning gave a tired smile and said, ‘I can think of more attractive prizes'.

As I walked to the start line, Amanda ran up and squeezed my arm. ‘Don't slow down at the end like you did with me,' she said. ‘Keep going.'