Sliver Moon Bay: The Looking (16 page)

Lilian’s looking at me. She’s
thinking about it. She knows Starling loved making them. In the
garden. On the beach.

But Lilian hasn’t been to the
beach since, you know. I’m noticing how cold she is. Her nose is
red. Her eyes are glassy. It’s the wind suddenly picking up.
Somehow he’s found us though we’re hiding amongst the trees.
Obviously, he feels the need to drive the freezing snow into our
faces. But Lilian’s holding up alright. She’ll do this if it’s the
last thing. So we go make snow angels.

We climb down to the beach,
sliding down the dune, just like Starling would have done. We
arrive down below, literally wrapped in snow. It’s fun. We’re
plonking ourselves down, with our arms and legs spread. We’re doing
it properly, dead weight into a fluffy snow pillow. Course, I’m
gonna have bruises tomorrow. But what does it matter when I feel so
close to her here? —Exactly.

My angel looks fantastic, for a
little while. But even down here the wind has picked up, coming in
full force now, from the ocean. Soon my angel will be
obliterated.

We climb back up. It’s hard
work, going the other way. Lilian’s struggling. Every so often, I
have to prop her up from behind.

Eventually we reach the top. We
pause there for a bit, catching our breaths, safe from the wind in
a cluster of bushes where old Drakey used to hide.

‘D-do you — think — Dad’s —
ever — coming back?’ Lilian blurts out, when I least expect her to
say anything, let alone this.

Course, I’ve thought about it;
I’m still thinking about what I think on that score.

‘I don’t know, Mum. I hope
so.’

‘Why?’

Now she’s floored me. It seems
so unlike her to do this. She’s always skirting the real issues,
fence-sitting or just plainly trying to forget what ails her, and
me.

‘Because he should be here,
with us.’

‘Sarah-honey, I don’t think he
wants to be with us anymore.’

She’s looking at me like I
should know.

‘You mean you don’t want to be
with him anymore.’

She sighs.

‘I feel betrayed. Can you
understand that, Sarah-honey? He’s left me. He’s left you. It’s not
going to be easy for us when he comes back, you know. But I don’t
believe he will.’

She turns away from me, starts
up the track. I follow in her footsteps. It’s been a Christmas day
to remember.

62

She was telling the truth. It’s
not going to be easy for us cause she’s given up. She’s been
talking to Bruce. A lot. I’ve looked up her call log and the back
and forth between them swings like a pendulum. Evenly, regularly,
predictably. Every day. So what am I supposed to do about this?
Supposing I want to do something about it. And maybe I will. When
the time is right. Today I’m busy. It’s my turn for Phys Ed oral
presentation and I’ve come prepared. I’ve got everything; pictures,
drawings, googled info printed, all set up on a large poster, which
I’ve tacked up on the whiteboard and covered by a blank sheet of
paper. And now I’m making a dramatic entrance.

‘Good morning, class.’

Some people smirk. Some smile.
But most continue on with their busy lives, discussing them in a
collective hum. It’s a beehive in here even as Amy looks up from
her paperwork to nod encouragingly in my direction. Yeah, okay; I
get it. It’s a lame start and we’re not in little people’s school
anymore.

I take the top sheet off my
poster.
How to Survive in the Woods.
The big reveal is
followed by silence. You could literally hear a pin drop if a pin
were dropped. A few elephants go by then somebody exhales. Maybe
they all did, collectively pushed out their spent air in one big
whoosh cause a cold wind sweeps through me towards Amy. She
shudders. Stares. They all do. And now I’ve got them.

‘Good morning, class. Today you
will learn the basics about surviving in the woods if you get lost.
The most important thing is not to panic. You will need to pay
attention to your surroundings because that’s all you’ve got to
help you stay alive. First you have to find food and shelter.
Depending on the season, this can be quite easy or very difficult.
In summer, you could look for berries in the undergrowth, or birds’
eggs in the trees. You look for nuts, seeds, mushrooms, all that.
If a squirrel can eat it, so can you so look for small animals to
see where they’re feeding. You can be sure you will find something
to eat there. In winter, you would look for a squirrel’s nest where
you would find their stores of nuts and grains. In case you don’t
find anything to eat, you will have to conserve energy by finding a
warm place to curl up in while you wait for rescue. Somewhere under
a tree where it’s dry—’

‘What if there are no trees?’
somebody pipes up, unhelpfully. It’s Fat Boy grinning cleverly, so
he thinks.

‘There would be cause you’re
surviving in the woods, F.B. Clue’s in the title,’ somebody else
pipes up, helpfully. It’s Noodle, from the back row. He’s somebody
I don’t ever speak to, but I’m liking the dude’s attitude right
now. He’s been paying attention. Or maybe he just wants to have a
bit of fun with Fat Boy. I think they’re friends. Whatever; it’s
probably best if I answer Fat Boy’s question. Amy’s expecting it;
she has stopped doing paperwork. She’s leaning expectantly towards
me, anchored solid, with her elbows on the marking sheet.

‘If there are no trees,
Mitchell, you can always dig yourself a little hole to curl up
in.’

‘Or a big one,’ Noodle jumps
in. The class smirks. Fat Boy continues to grin at Noodle who grins
back. I’m getting the feeling my show’s getting hijacked.

‘That would take too long. The
sun will go down and then what?’ returns Fat Boy.

‘Then that’s your bed, F.B. And
you will lie in it.’ Noodle grins, looks around the classroom to
gauge how he’s faring with this. Some people bite. They’re
looking.

‘But I’ll be cold, N-man.
Freeze my ass off.’

‘Let’s be honest, F.B. You’ve
got plenty of cover.’ Noodle puffs out his cheeks. He’s got
everyone’s attention now and they’re smiling. I’m feeling a little
left out, a little like the old days.

‘You cover yourself with grass
and leaves, Mitchell.’ There’s no point in fighting this; I might
as well work it into my presentation. Who knows, it might even get
me a better mark for audience participation and class engagement.
They’re all in now, by the look of it, hook line and sinker.

‘What if there are no leaves or
grass?’ Fat Boy is blinking at me innocently. He’s really looking
for guidance here.

‘Then you use what you’ve got
handy.’

‘But I’ve got nothing. I’m in
my underpants,’ says Fatty, keeping up the straight face. So what
am I supposed to do?

I look at Amy but she’s not
reading me. She’s giving me the opportunity to respond.

‘Then you pile the dirt you’ve
dug up on top of yourself. It will help keep you warm.’

‘It sounds nasty,’ Fat Boy
makes a face intended to shore up some sympathy.

But it looks like the moment
has passed. Folks are going back to their lives it looks like. The
beehive is beginning to buzz, ever so quietly, but the hum is
noticeable. People’s heads are being lowered, conspiratorially,
together. Only Noodle is keeping up.

‘Yeah, dude, it does. Sounds
like you could bury yourself alive.’

The fool grins at me. Like he’s
said something clever.

‘You wouldn’t cover your face,
obviously.’ I look at Amy who’s frowning at those clowns, arms
crossed under her boobs. I’m assuming she’s crossed them cause you
can’t see any of it under there. She’s wearing a bulky sweater over
her bulky body. So it’s all a big bulk of a woolly mammoth filling
up the space above her desk.

‘Boys, I want you to listen
now. Quiet!’ she yells and the class stops humming. They’ve all
slumped into a listening position, expecting to be bored. Oh, dear,
the fools I have to deal with.

Of course, the rest of my
presentation comes up to everyone’s expectation but I get through
it all right. I get a round of applause at the end and then
school’s over. I get a pass.

63

We’re having dinner, home-made
pizza made by me, and we’re watching a movie when Amy calls. I know
it’s her even though Lilian doesn’t say. She smiles at me,
apologetically, and disappears with the phone to her bedroom,
behind her bit of partition. Course, I hear everything.

‘Seems fine, why?’

—

‘She’s not mentioned it,
no.’

—

‘I see. Aha.’

—

‘Okay. I will speak to her.
Thanks for letting me know.’

—

Lilian hangs up. Five elephants
later she comes into the kitchen. Sits down, lights up. She pushes
the window open just a touch and sticks her cigarette out. We watch
the rest of the movie.

64

Dad! It’s the first day of
spring and we still have snow, would you believe? — Yes, there’s
snow around the trailer and in the forest, and a little left on the
beach. I think. But we haven’t been down there for a while. You
know. — I’m okay. — Nothing much. I’m tired most of the time. —
She’s busy. She’s working full-time now. — I don’t know. She says
she likes it. I wish she were home a bit more. — Well, she has to,
doesn’t she? We’ve no money left. — I know. I’m sorry. —

‘Sarah? Sarah, can you hear
me?’

I’ve got to go now, Dad.
Bye.

‘I can hear you, Miss.’

‘So, what is it?’

How should I know? I’ve not
heard a word that stupid woman said. But I see that she’s scribbled
something on the blackboard. Oh, I know. We’re doing n
utrition and the health of young people this term. It’s
probably about that.

‘What was the question again,
Miss?’

‘For the third time, Sarah,’
Amy heaves a sigh, looks at the class over the rim of her
spectacles. She’s having no impact. The class slumbers, deep in
thought, collectively and individually absent from this moment. Amy
taps her ruler sharply on the blackboard. Some people look up. It’s
enough for us to go on.

‘Why is eating a healthy
breakfast important?’

I don’t know. Why is eating a
healthy breakfast important? I look at my desk for inspiration. As
luck would have it, I find it. The answer is right there in the
leaflet left open in front of me.

‘
Eating a
healthy breakfast is associated with improved cognitive function,
memory, reduced absenteeism and improved mood, Miss.’

Amy looks pleased, pleasantly surprised.

‘That’s correct, Sarah. Thank you.’

I really
should feel offended. She’s pleased I read a sentence out
loud.
—
Seriously? I have a suspicion that
I’m not getting the respect I deserve. Will there ever come a day
when? Well, I’ll just have to make sure.

At least she’s gone back to her life. And
now I can go back to mine.

I do miss you, Dad. — I’m not
sure about Mum. She’s busy, working. All the time. — She doesn’t
seem to mind, you know. She’s happy cause she gets to see Bruce. —
Yes. Bruce. — He’s a guy. Just a guy who’s around. — I don’t like
him. — I don’t want her to see him. But — What do you expect me to
do? — Okay, go. I know you’re not really there.

He goes. And I’m done for the
day. You can only do some much of this before you’re drained. And I
shouldn’t really be doing it. It won’t bring him back. But I’m so
alone. He never calls. Nobody does. About him, or Starling.
Everything’s just gone on for too long. No leads, no interest. From
anyone. Not even the press. It’s depressing. Is this how it’s
supposed to be? —Exactly. I’d never have guessed it was gonna be
like this when Starling went away. I miss the first days, you know,
after. Cause we were busy when we had hope. But now all I do is sit
around counting elephants, talking to Chris. I imagine talking to
him. It doesn’t help. He doesn’t come. Fairy doesn’t come. Emily’s
gone and Starling too. My life really sucks.

65

Something’s up. Lilian is
acting funny. Has been all day, looking at me when she thinks I
can’t see her. So we might as well have it out.

‘What’s on your mind, Mum?’

We’re washing dishes after
dinner. Lilian’s washing and I’m drying. The question startles her.
She rests her hands on top of the sink, looks down at the suds
sliding off them. Her hands look about a hundred years old.

‘I think we should have a
memorial for Starling.’

She looks up at me. ‘It will be
good for us.’

‘Why?’

‘I keep thinking she’s coming
back, you know.’

‘I keep thinking that too.’

‘It’s not healthy.’

‘I don’t mind. I like thinking
about Starling coming home. And Dad.’

‘Sarah-honey. I wish you
wouldn’t. They’re not coming home.’

‘Dad might be.’

‘We don’t know that.’

She keeps on looking at me,
pleading silently. It’s like she’s a question mark hanging in thin
air.
Pleeeeeeease?

I can’t help her. I don’t think
this is a good idea. But she’s not reading me.

‘Sarah-honey. I need to say
goodbye.’

She wants closure, the silly
girl. Like that’s gonna happen. But I guess she needs to find out
for herself.

‘Okay, Mum.’

She hugs me. In the darkened
window behind her I see the two of us, reflecting the moment we’re
in. We look funny, stuck together, with her arms around me and her
hands fanned out behind my back so that the suds don’t drip on me.
Seriously, if Starling were here… Ah well, it is what it is. I wish
Lilian could see it. But she won’t. She’s weak and stubborn at the
same time. But she’s not fooling anybody. There’s a reason she
wants to say goodbye. She wants to start over.