Page 109

March 10th

On a day that’s as hot and as bright as any other, you start the car. I hear the noise when I’m looking at the busted water pipe, wondering how to fix it. I drop the pipe and run back. You are in the driver’s seat, hand on the key, pumping the accelerator. And then,vroom.That noise again. Traitor car.

We stare at each other through the windscreen while the engine roars. You look as shocked as I am. Is this it then? Will you slam the gearstick into reverse, put your foot to the floor, and get out of here? Or will I wrestle you for the key, and escape myself? I could open the passenger door and get in with you? You even incline your head as if that’s what you might like. I stand stock-still, the soles of my feet stinging from the hot sand, waiting, as you look at me. Now, the power is with you.

‘So, you leaving then?’ I say.

You squint at me. ‘You think I should?’

I didn’t expect that. ‘No.’

You watch me, your hand still on the ignition. There is no longer any reason for you to be here, or for us to continue whatever this is. You could return, find a life without me. You look over at the Separates and back again. I want to see what will hold you. Without warning, you slam your hands down onto the steering wheel.

‘It’s too hot to get going now anyway!’

You step out from the driver’s seat, the car still rumbling. Like me, you are waiting to play this out. You come and stand beside me, and I take a deep breath. The car sounds unwell, too loud and artificial out here.

‘If you turn it off, will it die again?’

You shrug. ‘Pretty sure I know how to get her going now.’ You tap the hood. ‘You took most of the underside off, y’know? Poor old girl didn’t have a belly left.’

‘Do you think the hire car company will notice?’

You grin, your eyes blue as jays’ wings in the bright sun. Blue like everything innocent. Then you lean back into the car and turn the ignition off.

‘Take the chance?’

Who are you now? The Ty from before, or the Ty out of prison, or a new Ty? What are you staying for? You stride past me towards the house.

‘We need to cool off,’ you call back. ‘Don’t you reckon?’

Standing with one hand clasped around a veranda post, you turn to me, the full force of the sun on your face and chest.

‘If you’re wanting to swim, you’re going the wrong way,’ I say, squinting back at you.

‘Righto!’ You give me the thumbs-up. ‘I’ll get the pool noodles!’

I walk back to wait on the veranda, listening to you thudding around inside. When you come out, your arms are full: two hats, the binoculars, a couple of towels, and a bag into which you thrust everything.

‘Why so much?’ I say.

‘Reckon we stay out there til sunset. Really cool off. I’llwork something out with that car tomorrow.’

I pass you on the veranda and go into the house. ‘Hang on, I’ve got another idea.’

In the kitchen, I reach my hand to the back of the pantry, behind the old jars and saucepans. The gun is not there. As I keep searching, I hear you behind me.

‘Don’t worry,’ you say. ‘I’ve already got it.’

I step out of the pantry, away from you. I thought I’d hidden that gun well.

‘What, you think I don’t know where my guns are?’ you say. ‘Anyway, you did good getting it out of the shed. Now we can get something decent to eat.’

I eye you warily.

‘You did good,’ you say again, and you open the bag of swim stuff on your shoulder so I can see the gun resting inside. ‘We can shoot something for our last supper. Go out in style.’

‘Last supper?’