White Ute Dreaming (14 page)

She put her hand on her brow and shook her head.

‘Ever since then, Griz has been thinking that I give a shit about him. Wrong. Next guess.'

She said that but I'd seen them holding hands. I admit she hadn't looked very comfortable but heck, she'd still been sitting there with him. She snuggled under my arm and I felt the blood pressure go up in the front of my pants. She smelt like shampoo and ciggy smoke.

‘What happened to you?' she asked.

I shrugged.

‘Where did you disappear to?'

‘I went to my dad's van.'

‘Okay.'

I felt like I'd said too much but the gates had opened. ‘Mum and Dad have been separated for eight or nine years. Dad lives in the Fairleigh Caravan Park. I live with Mum in Vincent Drive. I hate it.'

She put her legs down and looked at my face with her mouth part open and said, ‘That's the most you've ever told me about yourself.'

‘Is it?' I said, and lifted my shoulders.

‘Yeah. It was nice. Keep going.'

I laughed. ‘I dunno . . .'

Ernie sniffed her leg then buried his nose in her lap. She patted him hard and tried to push him off without looking obvious. He'd found something interesting and she had to use two hands to get him down.

‘Ernie. Be polite,' I said, and poked him with my boot.

Angie laughed and wrestled with his head.

‘What are you doing for the holidays?' I asked.

‘Nothing much. Just hanging around. I was going to go up to my brother's place in Sydney but he has to fly to Indonesia for work.'

‘Bummer.'

‘What are you up to?'

Well, it's like this. I'm going up the coast and in a couple of days my girlfriend will be sitting where you are and I'll probably spend the next week or so getting to know her again. Inside and out. ‘Dad's going up to Bermagui. I'm going with him,' I said.

‘Cool. Can I come?'

‘Nah. Not enough room. Only got the ute,' I said, and pulled my arm off her shoulder to scratch an imaginary itch on my stump. It came to rest on my jiggling thigh.

‘I was joking. Mum wouldn't let me go anyway. Too frightened I'd come back pregnant. Shit. What's the time?'

I looked at my stump. ‘I dunno. About ten o'clock.'

‘Got to get going. I'm not in Mum's good books at the moment,' she said. She stood up and straightened her clothes.

‘Why is that?'

‘Just stuff. You know, not putting my clothes away.
Getting totally wasted on Thursday. Nicking her smokes. Normal stuff.'

I laughed. ‘Know how you feel.'

She held out her hand to help me up from the seat and kissed me. It wasn't a thunder-and-lightning kiss, more like a ‘this is the end' smooch. She said goodbye and jogged up the path.

Mum was in bed, still grumbling at me. She told me that Kez had phoned.

‘She said to phone when you get home. It didn't matter what time.' After a moment she added in a sarcastic whisper, ‘She told me to tell you that she loves you, Wayne.'

I dialled and made a mistake so I hung up and dialled again. I wondered if Mum mentioned the condoms? Shit.

‘Hi Wayne.'

‘How did you know it was me?'

‘I've been sitting by the phone waiting for you. Where have you been?'

‘Um. Game Zone.'

‘Cool. Did your mum pass on the message?'

‘What message?'

‘That I love you.'

‘Yes, she did. Thanks very much,' I spat.

‘Whoo. In a bit of snoot are we?'

I held the mouthpiece close. ‘She's giving me the absolute shits.'

‘Oh. I see. She told me that you were coming up with your dad. Not on the bus.'

‘Yep. What else did she tell you?' I hoped she couldn't hear my heart beating through the phone.

‘That you were leaving Wednesday. Five more sleeps,' she squealed. ‘God, that's not long! So cool.'

Sigh. ‘Yep. Should be there Wednesday night.'

‘I can't wait.'

‘Me either.'

‘I phoned because I'm going out on Saturday night and I wanted to know if you'd come,' she said.

‘Where?'

‘We're going to see the Monks of Levat Thai.'

‘Whoo. That sounds exciting. Not.'

‘Come on. It'll be fun. They make these amazing sand mandalas. And their chants will make the hair stick up on the back of your neck.'

‘What's Den doing?'

‘Staying at home. That's the other option. He said he could take you camping up the canyon.'

‘Now we're talking.'

‘Whatever. You can decide when you get here if you want. We've got to buy the tickets before Friday.'

She gave me directions, asked about Ernie and school. She asked me if I'd got any more notes in my locker.

‘Nah. Haven't had any since last term. How's school for you?'

‘Yeah. Great. There are some really lovely people here. Really lovely. And a bit wild. I'm in my element.'

Good.

S
OME DOGS ARE HOONS AND THEY HURL ABUSE AT ALL THE CARS
that go past. Some dogs are hippies, blissing out on all the freedom with their ears flapping against their heads and letting off big tracers of dribble that run down the side of the car at traffic lights. They get stoned on it. Ernie is the seasoned traveller. Sometimes he'll prop his paws on the sill and look over the roof of the ute, squinting with his ears pulled flat against his head like a wolf in a snowstorm. Mostly he just curls up on whatever looks comfortable. Half on the blue tarp sticking out from under the spare wheel and half on Dad's duffel bag. Looks pretty comfy.

Dad had insisted on leaving at fish o'clock—sometime before sunrise—so we could get a good run of it. I saw the sun come up and the stars go to bed but I didn't really wake up until we were driving through Bairnsdale and I remembered the big red church I visited with the Humes last year. I told Dad I was hungry and then showed him the bakery. He was impressed. I told him the kangaroo pies were good and he pulled the neck of my jacket out and pretended to vomit down my back. Even bought Ernie a
pie. They weren't real hot so I pulled the crust off the top and he licked and chomped at the bottom until all the meat was gone and it looked like an empty dog bowl should.

The ute smelt funny. Oily metal smoky smells. Dad patted her on the bonnet and slipped into the pilot's position. ‘Come on, old girl. You can do it.'

He braced himself and turned the key. She barked into life and we were on our way again. The caravan clunked and banged every time Dad sped up or slowed down. He pulled off the highway a few times to let a row of cars zip past and smiled and waved as they thanked him. All except a P-plater that followed us into Lakes Entrance. Dad couldn't find anywhere to pull over so he kept going even when the brakes on the ute started squealing. When we finally found a spot, just before the bridge, a black Commodore roared past with its horn tooting and a young bloke with long hair hanging out of the passenger's side window sticking his middle finger up at us. Dad saluted back and called him an arsehole. He nearly pissed himself laughing when we saw the same Commodore on the other side of Lakes with a police car parked behind it, lights flashing and a cop inside using a radio.

Maybe he shouldn't have laughed so hard. Maybe he should have taken it a bit easier on the pedal. He started flicking at the temperature gauge on the dash. We pulled up at Nowa Nowa, in front of a gift shop with a petrol bowser out the front and caravans out the back. Dad popped the bonnet. An old bloke shot out the door and enthusiastically unclipped the nozzle from the bowser.

‘Leaded?' he asked Dad.

‘Yes mate, only ten bucks. I need some water.'

The old bloke pointed to a grey watering-can under a tap near the corner of the building and proceeded to top up the fuel. I took Ernie for a quick walk along the road. He had a piss and scratched up a bit of grass. We'd gone about a hundred metres when I heard Dad curse. We jogged back and listened to him swear under his breath for a minute. He ran his fingers through his hair and sat in the driver's seat.

‘What's the matter?' I asked.

‘She's blown a bloody head gasket.'

‘And that's not good?'

He laughed nervously. ‘Nah, mate. Not good at all. I think we'll be camping here tonight. Maybe longer.'

I swore under my breath. How much fun would that be? Dad explained what had gone wrong and showed me how the oil had gone from black to a gluggy brown. The water that normally cools the engine had leaked into the part of the motor that carries the oil for lubrication. He said he'd done one in 1982. He reckoned it would only take a few hours to fix, once he had the parts. The old bloke introduced Dad to a local named Eric who had a mechanics shed up near the big sawmill. We unhooked the van and pushed it into the park. There was a mysterious-looking pyramid made of wood with no windows tucked in behind the back of the shop.

Eric towed the ute up to the garage and gave Dad the run of the place. He even used his own phone to ring around and find a gasket set for him. Said there was one back in Lakes.

Eric's son, Ben, was on his P-plates and he offered to drive Dad back into Lakes to pick up the gasket. Can't beat country hospitality. Dad couldn't decide whether to go and
get the gasket or strip the motor down and check that it was definitely the problem.

‘I could go with Ben and you can give us a call if there's something else wrong,' I suggested.

Dad slapped me on the back. ‘Excellent idea. Is that okay? Would you do that?'

Ben stood with his hands on his hips and said that he'd be happy to drive me in. He seemed like a sensible sort of bloke and he really liked Ernie. It was like they'd been mates for ages. Didn't take much encouragement for Ernie to latch onto Ben's shirt and start growling, tail going crazy. Dad gave me a one-hundred-dollar note and quietly told me to give some of the change to Ben for fuel if we only had to pay for a gasket and some new oil.

Ben hunched over the wheel of his Bluebird as he drove. He couldn't talk and do anything else at the same time so we didn't say a word to each other until we were well along the highway.

‘Where are you and your dad going?'

‘Bermagui.'

‘Cool.'

‘I'm going to stay at my mate's place . . . I mean my girlfriend's joint at Fishwood.'

‘Yeah? That's not far. Mate, there are some awesome motorbike tracks around Fishwood. My cousins live up there and we go off into the scrub on our bikes. And the canyon. That's awesome.'

He told me all about the bush around Fishwood and some of the wild shit he'd done on his motorbike.

‘Have you got your motorbike licence?' I asked.

‘Nah. Dad won't let me,' he said. ‘He reckons that bikes are for the bush. Too easy to kill yourself on the road.'

He pulled out to go around a dead wallaby and a car beside him tooted.

‘Shit. Didn't see you mate, sorry.'

Ben had to go to the bank. He looked like he was part ape in his work boots and flannelette shirt, the way his shoulders hunched and his head moved forward and backward as he walked. The blokes at the car part place were expecting us. Dad had phoned. It
was
the head gasket. I couldn't give the bloke the money fast enough. Ben went to fill up before we took off to his place again. I offered him twenty bucks. He wouldn't be in it at first.

‘Nah, take it,' I said. ‘Dad told me to give you the money. We really appreciate it.'

He eventually took the money and I bought us an ice cream each and a bottle of Coke to share. Bloody friendly in the bush, they are.

I watched motorbike videos in Ben's room while Dad worked on the car in the garage next door. Eric went out to help him after tea and I walked down to the payphone to break the news to Kerry. Gracie answered the phone and put her on straightaway.

‘Where are you?' she asked.

‘Yep. Nice to hear from you, too.'

‘Sorry,' she giggled. ‘Hi darling, how are you, good and all that. Where the bloody hell are you?'

‘We're in Nowa Nowa.'

‘What?'

‘Yeah. The ute shat itself. Dad's fixing it. We might get there really late tonight or maybe tomorrow.'

She grumbled and her voice went serious. ‘Is everything okay?'

‘Yeah. Just a bit of a piss-off.'

The phone beeped for more money.

‘Just bloody hurry up and get here will you?' she growled.

‘Yeah, yeah. See you soon.'

‘You going already?'

‘Yeah. Got to help Dad.'

‘Oh. Okay. Bye love. See you soon.'

‘Right,' I said, and hung up.

Dad and Eric were lowering the head back onto the motor when I got back. Eric left and I fed Ernie and sat on a stool near the front of the car.

Dad smiled at me. He had grease and shit all over his hands and he must have wiped his nose. He had a moustache of black shit that made him look like a bullfighter.

‘Sorry, mate,' he said. ‘Thought we'd be there by now.'

‘Oh, don't worry about it. All part of the adventure, I reckon. I'd rather be here with you than sitting at the flat with Mum watching telly.'

‘Yeah. I suppose. How is Sylvie?'

‘She was as cranky as hell last night.'

‘Oh yeah. What did you do wrong?'

‘Me? Nothing.' I said, and I got a wash of how unfair Mum had been. ‘One of my mates gave me a strip of condoms for fun at a party . . . the night I rocked up at your place.'

‘Yeah.'

‘They went through the wash and Mum found them. Cracked the absolute shits at me. She wanted to know who I was screwing.'

Dad stopped what he was doing like he'd just thought of a way to solve the world food crisis. He looked at me and shook his head.

‘It's amazing how your mum hangs on to stuff,' he began. ‘When you were about six, I went to the pub after work and Uncle Rob gave me a strip of condoms that he'd bought from a vending machine in the dunnies. Just as a joke. Right?'

I nodded.

‘Sylvie found them. She was certain I was having an affair. That was bullshit. We both knew that Rob was cheating on Auntie Pat, and your mum thought I must be cheating as well. She never believed.'

Somewhere, in the darkest corner of my mind, someone switched on a desk lamp and a whole chunk of my life made sense. Maybe that was the real reason my mum and dad broke up. Sounded stupid enough.

‘I took her car for a burn a while back,' I said. It was turning into a game of truth or dare and we couldn't be buggered thinking up any dares.

‘You
what
?'

‘Just around the block. She got seriously pissed off with me. Said she won't teach me how to drive in her car. Said she won't even let me sit in her car.'

Dad grunted. ‘Guess you'll have to learn in old Bessie then,' he said, and slapped the bonnet.

I shrugged. ‘Mum said I should come and live with you. She said we are so much alike.'

Dad laughed. ‘Maybe we are, mate.'

He smiled and looked at me like he meant it. I wanted to jump up and grab him in a headlock and mess his hair. I wanted to tell him that I loved him but I just sat there.

He got the car going a little after ten o'clock. It ran like a dream and Dad crossed his fingers at Eric as we drove down to the van. Eric smiled and waved from the floodlit verandah of his house. Dad stopped in at the pub and bought two slabs of VB. He drove up to Eric's place and left one at the front of his shed. He took the other one back to the van. Ernie flopped on my bed and was snoring in five minutes. Dad had two beers then went up to the showers. I fell asleep next to my yellow dog and didn't even finish my can.