Shallow Breath (14 page)
‘S
o what made you want to study dolphins?’ Pete asks Connor as they all slouch against the edges of the tent on another balmy evening in Monkey Mia. He has just returned for a visit after spending the semester in Perth, and is trying to be nonchalant about the fact that Desi, nestled in the crook of Connor’s arm, fitting perfectly, is even more gorgeous and suntanned than he remembered. As Pete had greeted them on the jetty earlier, she had slung boxes onto the boardwalk with ease, then taken the boat out to anchor it, dived into the sea and swum to shore. She has come a long way in a short time.
He holds his stubby tightly in his hand, watching an assortment of moths and mosquitos dancing to the hum of the kerosene lamp, while Connor cracks open another bottle and waits for the fizz to subside. ‘A few things,’ he says, taking a swig. ‘I grew up in a place called Half Moon Bay. Dad would take us kids out on our little boat most weekends, and we’d place bets on what we’d see. Odds were we’d get dolphins bow-riding.
Now and again a humpback would cannon out of the water, or we’d see a barnacle-encrusted rock breaking the surface, and realise it was a grey whale. Do you know those guys were nicknamed devilfish, since they fought so hard when they were hunted, but they were incredibly friendly to us. They’d even let us stroke them. As we’d reach over the side, my dad would tell us we were touching something far more intelligent than us – that the oldest primitive whale fossil ever discovered was over fifty million years old, the oldest early human fossil,
Homo habilis
, around two million. He’d say, “If the whales have lived that much longer on earth, think how much more they might know.” Dad’s an avid
National Geographic
hoarder.’
‘My father was similar,’ Pete says. ‘He worked as an accountant in the city, but he was a passionate conservationist all his life. He campaigned for better conditions for animals in captive facilities, back in the day when not many of them were great. He was my hero.’
Pete falls silent, finding he is picking the label off his beer bottle, spreading foil filaments over his sleeping bag. When he looks up, Desi is smiling at him encouragingly, and he can see the sympathy in her expression. Pete is still getting used to talking about his father in the past tense, since he has only been dead for a few months, from a fast, aggressive cancer that seems to have stolen the life from his mother’s eyes as well. Whenever he remembers his father is gone, an unbearable emptiness crushes him. The opportunity to bring him back to life through these memories is a gift.
He clears his throat. ‘Dad was from the suburbs of London originally, and he never got over marvelling at how much open space there is here. He felt instinctively that everything has a place in life. He was never threatened by the creatures that roamed our garden or found their way into the house. In fact,
the only time I ever saw him kill anything was when a large dugite was seen slithering underneath the kitchen table, and my mother stood screaming on a chair. He whacked it with a spade, but he was gutted about it afterwards.
‘And he went to the whale protests in the seventies, down in Albany on the south coast. He didn’t get involved that much, but he wanted to be counted. Said there was a large crowd made up of the locals who supported the whalers and those who wanted the whales protected. They heckled one another continuously, while the police stood around doing nothing. The slipway was cordoned off so you couldn’t see the dead whales or the flensers at work, but it was still going on in the background. Dad talked about the terrible stench, and he was haunted by the constant, grating sound of the head saw – said it never stopped the whole time he was there.’
Desi shivers, while Connor asks, ‘And did it work – the protests?’
‘Seemed to – they’d closed within a year. They turned the old whaling station into a museum, and we went to visit years later. But Dad still cried when he stood where they had stripped the blubber and pushed the meat into the cookers. He used to say that the stories he heard about whales dying – the way they’d scream or strike ships in anger, or cover the bodies of their calves to protect them – sounded exactly like the stories his father told him of the war. He felt that as soon as you begin to group life together – animal or human – that’s when you start to lose understanding and respect. He always encouraged me to see people and animals as individuals.’
‘I think our dads would have gotten along,’ Connor says.
‘They certainly sound a lot nicer than mine,’ Desi adds quietly.
Connor pulls her closer. ‘I grew up around fishermen too
– they grow pretty damn tough from doing daily battle with the sea. We can stand at a distance and watch in awe, but it’s an uncompromising way to make a living. And when it’s your currency you’re bound to see things a bit differently.’ He reaches for his cigarettes. ‘But I still loathe it when I hear what happens to the dolphins who get in their way.’
‘So what about you, Desi?’ Pete asks. ‘Where did your affinity with dolphins begin? Was it Atlantis?’
‘No’ – he sees her face come alive with the memory – ‘actually, it was when I was thirteen. I was in the ocean, and a dolphin appeared and swam along with me. It’s hard to describe – it felt like we were in perfect sync. As though we were both completely at peace for a moment, and that was all there was in the world.’
Connor is nodding enthusiastically. ‘So often I hear people who are passionate about animals talk about these moments of connection – of eyeballing a creature whose language and ways are beyond you, and yet knowing in that moment you have an understanding. I think once you’ve had that experience, it changes you forever. I have a friend who feels that way about elephants. And what about you, Pete?’
It is one of Pete’s favourite memories. On a trip to the zoo as a boy, he had idly pulled out a few toy cars from his pocket, and set them on one of the low brick walls that sat at the bottom of an enclosure window. A young orang-utan sitting close by had moved right up to the glass and begun to scrutinise him, her eyes following each car as he drove them around. Every time he paused, the orang-utan would look up, stare him straight in the eye, as though to say, ‘Well, what next?’
He tells the story. ‘I realised we were playing together. From that moment I was hooked.’
Connor grabs another beer. ‘Even though I loved our boat trips as a kid, I didn’t think seriously about studying cetaceans
until Humphrey the humpback appeared. Did you guys hear about him?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Pete says, and Desi shakes her head.
‘Jeez, well, in my part of the world, back in the eighties, you couldn’t miss him. I was seventeen when he got lost and swam into the mouth of San Francisco Bay, and up the river. He went further and further in the wrong direction and, as everyone watched, and the media circus grew larger, no one could come up with a way to get him to turn round and go back out to sea. He was obviously dying, when this one guy had the idea that they could lead him out by playing whale song underwater. And it worked. Got him all the way to the open ocean. He was cheered by crowds as he went through San Francisco Bay. We drove up especially to be there. And he was seen for quite a few years afterwards.
‘I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life then, as we all craned our necks to try to see him, and the news helicopters hovered above, deafening us. I wanted to be the guy who had understood enough about this awesome animal to know how to help him.’
‘Well, we’re taking on a challenge,’ Pete says. ‘Right now, the world’s not looking good. The animals need all the help they can get.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Connor answers, raising his drink. ‘Let’s hope that our generation is the one that finally gets it, and begins to make a difference.’
And Pete and Desi lean forward and clink their bottles against his.
A
s Maya sits cradling Luke, she watches Pete’s and Desi’s horrified faces taking stock of the situation. Without even looking at one another they are instantly a team, Pete lifting Luke’s head gently from her lap and Desi running to turn on the verandah lights. Maya hasn’t realised how heavy Luke’s weight has been on her until it is gone. She is left rubbing her legs for a moment, trying to get the feeling back.
When Desi returns, she is immediately busy, using a jumper to cushion Luke’s head, lifting his eyelids, checking his pulse. ‘What’s his name?’ Desi asks as she works.
‘It’s Luke,’ Maya says through her sobs. ‘Can you wake him up, please?’
‘Luke, can you hear me?’ Desi is leaning over him, patting his cheek.
‘He needs to go to hospital.’ Pete indicates the car with his keys.
‘Pete, you can’t, please. I promised him …’ Maya jumps in
front of Luke, protecting him. ‘He was awake when I drove here. I was helping him up the steps and he collapsed.’
‘What the hell happened, Maya?’ Pete asks. His voice softens as he sees her distress and he kneels beside her, putting his arm around her. She can feel herself trembling.
‘He was beaten up.’
Desi looks up. ‘Then Pete’s right, Maya. He might have internal injuries. We should go now.’
‘Nah, I’m fine.’ To their surprise, Luke suddenly comes round and struggles to sit up, immediately groaning, clutching his side and falling back down, curling himself into a ball.
Desi leans over him. ‘I’m Desi, Maya’s mum. This is Pete. Can you tell us where it hurts?’
‘Right now, everywhere,’ he replies, grimacing. ‘But I’ll be okay.’
‘Come on, you two,’ Pete says. ‘We need to know what happened.’
There is silence for a moment, then Luke breaks it. ‘My stepbrother and I don’t get on very well.’
‘Your stepbrother is a murdering scumbag,’ Maya mutters.
‘What do you mean, murdering?’ Pete asks sharply.
Luke speaks through clenched teeth. ‘Hayden and his mates have been shooting and torturing kangaroos, in bushland near the old wildlife park. We’ve been trying to get some evidence Maya can take to the police. And in the meantime we’ve been having a go at saving the joeys. We’d managed to stay under the radar … until tonight.’
Desi sits up and sucks in a breath.
Pete turns to Maya. ‘How long has this been going on for?’
‘A few weeks.’
‘It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have got her involved,’ Luke butts in. ‘I went to her one night, with a joey. Told her what had been
happening, and asked if she could help. I only meant for her to take care of the injured ones I found – I didn’t want to put her in danger. I thought she might know what to do. She’d done this presentation at school a few years ago … told us about all the animals you’d helped,’ he looks at Desi. ‘It reminded me of my mum – when I was little she’d wake me up in the night just so’s I could watch a bobtail walk across the garden. Back before she married Sean.’
‘This isn’t your fault,’ Maya says miserably. ‘I insisted on coming with you. And I went down there early tonight. I thought perhaps if I heard them coming I could scare the roos away by making noise. And I did – but they saw me in their headlights. One of them chased me … If Luke hadn’t been there …’
She could still hear the panting breath of Hayden’s friend as he bore down on her and tackled her to the ground, and feel the rough rub of his scraggly beard as he spat profanities against her neck. Then she had been pulled up and frogmarched across to the others, who formed a semicircle, four of them watching her, smirking, casting furtive glances at one another, a debate going on without words. Her fear had reached new levels, turning her body to ice as she stood on her own, already understanding what cruelty they were capable of.
Then Luke had come charging in from nowhere. ‘Leave her alone!’ he’d raged, pushing her behind him so forcefully that she almost fell, then standing his ground.
Jarrad had marched over and swung an almighty punch. Luke flew through the air and hit the dirt hard. Jarrad began kicking, grunting with exertion, then paused, standing over Luke’s body, the muscles in his jaw twitching and flexing with anger. Maya had reached for the knife in her bag, but, before she could pull it out, Hayden had come across to his mate, putting one arm
loosely around his neck. As Jarrad remained rigid, Hayden had spoken quietly into his ear, and eventually Jarrad began to move away, walking backward, his eyes bulging. Finally, he turned round and began to jog off, at which point Hayden pointed an imaginary trigger at Luke and fired.
They had got into their cars and driven away, leaving Maya to help Luke to their vehicle. He had been quiet, panting with effort, but she hadn’t realised how badly hurt he was until the car’s internal light showed the extent of the bleeding. She had taken the turning to the shack without even debating it.
Pete brings her back to the present. ‘You know it’s illegal to shoot kangaroos without the proper licences. If you go to the police, there might be something they can do.’
‘I didn’t want to.’ Luke sits up again, clutching his head. ‘My mob and the police have a complicated relationship already. Besides, it’s our word against theirs at the moment. We thought if we got proof then Maya could give them a try, though I doubt it’s ever going to be top of their list. I’m surprised Hayden and his mates aren’t over it by now, to be honest. They’re not in it for much except drunken kicks.’
‘Luke, are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital and get properly checked?’ Desi asks.
‘Nah, I’ll be right.’ He tries to sit up, but they can all see he is swaying.
‘Let me help you inside,’ Pete says. ‘Or do you want me to take you home?’
Luke shakes his head. ‘Would it be all right if I stayed here a bit longer and cleaned myself up? Wanna avoid mum till I can think of some excuse. She’ll be gutted to see me like this, and she’s sad enough as it is.’
‘Of course,’ Desi says quickly. ‘Just lie on the sofa and rest. I’ll get your cuts cleaned.’
Once Luke is comfortable, Maya pulls a chair up close to him, notices his long, slender fingers on the blanket and wants desperately to hold his hand.
He is watching her. ‘I’m sorry about the one last night,’ he says.
She shrugs.
Desi has come in with a bowl and towels. ‘What one last night?’ she asks as she dabs gently at the cut on Luke’s forehead.
Maya wishes she would mind her own business, but Luke begins to talk. ‘I found a joey, and brought it to Maya,’ he says, wincing at Desi’s efforts. ‘She did a great job, but it got really sick. She took it to the vet, but it died.’
Desi glances quickly at Maya before she carries on with what she’s doing. ‘You saw Theo?’ Her voice is slightly unsteady.
‘Yes. And Rebecca. And Caitlin.’
‘How are they?’
Up until this point, Maya has forgotten her anger. Now it rushes back in an instant. ‘How do you think?’
‘Maya!’ Pete says sharply.
‘It’s all right.’ Desi doesn’t ask anything more, just turns away and finishes helping Luke. ‘Okay, then, you rest here, and we’ll keep an eye on you.’ She pats him on the arm and walks off to the kitchen, Pete following.
Luke closes his eyes. ‘Your mum’s all right, you know,’ he murmurs.
Maya sighs. She watches Luke for a moment, but he seems to be sleeping, so she gets up and goes into the kitchen. She is still willing herself to apologise when her mother speaks.
‘We were just debating what to do. How about we take turns staying up and checking he’s all right. I’ll go first. You look shattered.’
Pete interrupts. ‘No, I’ll go first, Desi. You’ve got a visitor
coming over in the morning, remember? And you two need to have a talk.’ He nods at Maya.
‘Who’s coming over?’ Maya asks.
‘It’s Kate,’ Desi says, and Maya sees her look anxiously at Pete, pursing her lips. ‘And about Kate … Maya, there’s something I need to tell you.’
