Beyond Carousel (25 page)

There was nobody out there either. Crusty deckchairs and beer bottles full of cigarette butts spoke of distant summer parties. A few buckets and funnels were strewn about in an attempt to catch water, but otherwise it seemed as though the terrace had been left alone since the season turned. It was a pity, given the panoramic
view it offered over the harbour, park and patchwork rooftops of old Fremantle.

We shivered up there for a few moments, then headed back inside.

‘What do you think?' Lizzy asked me.

‘It looks like what she described to me at the casino,' I replied.

Lizzy nodded, but didn't seem convinced. I wasn't either really.

Taylor and Sophie were digging around the kitchen.

‘It doesn't seem like anyone has been here for at least a day or two,' said Sophie.

‘Do you think they went to find food?' said Taylor.

‘Maybe,' replied Sophie. ‘There's not a lot left here.'

I hung in the middle of the room as the others did their best to pretend that we weren't in a rush. I wished that I could sense Georgia's presence or find a telltale piece of jewellery that would confirm her history there.

‘Wait. Do you see a diary anywhere?' I asked, rummaging through the tables.

The others joined me.

‘What does it look like?' asked Sophie.

‘Just a regular diary. But it's from last year,' I replied.

The four of us dug around for the best part of half an hour. We found a random collection of paperbacks, and a couple of notepads, but no diaries. Eventually I gave up so that the others would feel okay to do the same.

We lingered up there for a moment. Nobody really
knew what to say. We could search some of the other buildings, but I think we all knew that we had already found what we were looking for. Maybe we had just been too late.

Taylor seemed to pick up on the silent panic building in my chest.

‘Oh well. Let's wait here for a bit. See if anybody comes back,' she said.

She looked at the others for support. Sophie's came easily; Lizzy's took a moment longer.

We had just over a week to get back to Carousel. It seemed like more than enough time, but waiting up in that building had all of us on edge.

Lizzy felt it the worst. She would pace up and down from the rooftop. Grill me for anything on Georgia that I might have forgotten. Take Chess out for impromptu walks that Taylor insisted on joining.

Something had shifted in Lizzy since reuniting with her twin. It was as if she had grown tired of fate. Up until now she had played along with the world as well as anyone. She had made her art. Joined the communities. Bought into the Prix de Rome. Yet the world had given her nothing in return. Just a broken memory of her mother that raised more questions than answers. I got the feeling that now that she had found her sister, Lizzy wanted nothing but to get the hell out of here before something else could happen. And I totally got it.

For Taylor and Sophie the anxiety was less obvious. They were still a bit awkward around each other – or
maybe just around each other in a poky bohemian sleepout with two other people – but together they also radiated a calming positivity. Their relationship proved that good things could happen in this world. They gave off a John and Yoko type of vibe and I was seriously grateful for it.

We had been there two nights already and more than once I had stood staring at the ocean from the rooftop and all but decided that we should leave. For all we knew Georgia and whoever else was once here could have already heard of the Prix de Rome and be on their way back to their Residencies. But each time I returned inside to tell the others, Taylor and Sophie would stop what they were doing and offer such reassuring and steadfast smiles that I would forget about it completely.

On the third day I was on the rooftop watching a swirling breeze shuffle through the Norfolks when Taylor surfaced alone to join me. She leant back on the bricks beside me and looked around at the green and grey patchwork of Fremantle.

‘I prefer this to our last rooftop,' she said.

‘Totally,' I replied.

I glanced at her. ‘Do you think we should leave a note and get moving?' I asked.

‘It's not that far to Carousel, really. And Sophie's Residency is pretty much on the way. We still have some time,' replied Taylor.

‘Thanks,' I said.

We stared out at the ocean for a while.

‘Hey I've been meaning to ask you about your writing,' said Taylor.

‘What about it?' I asked, cautiously.

‘When we were about to leave the hills you were worried about whether there would be time for it on the road yeah?' she asked.

I nodded.

‘So?' she asked.

‘I've done a bit of stuff,' I replied.

‘Lizzy said you lost some work at the Auroraport?'

I nodded, but didn't elaborate.

‘That sucks, Nox. I totally get why you wouldn't want to start over right away,' said Taylor.

It was a weird thing for her to say. I got the familiar sense that once again Taylor Finn knew more about me than I realised.

‘Did you guys hear anything about Tommy while you were staying at the beach?' I asked, changing the subject.

‘Nope. He'll be okay though. Tommy is a tough little dude,' she replied.

‘I hope so.'

I turned and glanced up at the hills. They were hazy and distant, but I could make out a tinge of green amid the grey and black.

‘I was thinking of taking something back to Carousel for Rocky,' said Taylor. ‘Any ideas?'

‘Aside from a sick BMX?' I replied.

‘Yeah. Or a Commodore,' joked Taylor.

‘I don't know. Rocky had pretty weird taste,' I said.

‘I guess we all did when we were his age,' said Taylor. ‘Lizzy had a sexy poster of Lisa Kudrow on her wall for most of junior high.'

I laughed and Taylor joined me.

‘Seriously?'

She nodded and laughed some more.

‘Holy shit. I can't believe I just told you that. Nobody knows about that,' said Taylor.

‘It will be pretty safe with me here,' I said and immediately wondered whether I had let on too much about my plans.

Taylor didn't seem to notice.

‘I really want to get him a hacky sack, but who knows where we would find one,' said Taylor.

We stood in silence for a while and enjoyed the patchy sunshine.

‘Did Ed say whether everyone that was back at a Residency on September second would go home?' she asked.

‘You mean Rocky?' I asked.

She nodded.

I shook my head.

‘I don't think he has the full picture yet. It sounded like more of a gut feeling. He said to me, this is what I think, not what I know,' I said.

Taylor and I gazed out at the ocean and mulled this over for a while.

A folk singer's intuition.

Without a doubt Ed's was stronger than most. It had probably even given birth to a lot of his great songs. But it wasn't much for an entire city to be pinning its hopes on.

That night we were woken by garbled static on Taylor's radio.

I was tired and dopey and needed time to confirm that it wasn't part of my dream. I had been up late writing a note to leave for Georgia. I told her about my meeting with Ed and the Prix de Rome. About how important it was that she got back to her Residency in time, even if the whole thing sounded crazy. At the end of the note I added that I should have gone with her to Fremantle, but I was glad that I didn't because now my friends might be able to get home. I told her I had freaked out when she asked me because being with her felt like part of the future, not the shitty present, or the distant past. Finally I told her that I might not be around after September second, but that it didn't mean I wouldn't be okay.

I had no idea how to sign off so I stupidly drew a smiley face beside my name. The eyes were too close together and it looked weird. I cursed and considered
starting over, but couldn't deal with writing all of that stuff again. So I pocketed the note and planned to tell Sophie and the Finns that I was ready to leave when they woke in the morning.

But then Taylor had forgotten to turn off her radio after an evening walk with Lizzy.

‘What is that?' said Lizzy from across the room.

Taylor shuffled around in the dark. Sophie's torch came on, then Lizzy's.

‘Taylor?' asked Lizzy.

‘It's my radio,' she replied.

The noise came again. It was dirty and broken, but it sounded like a human voice.

I sat upright and turned on my torch. Taylor and Sophie were huddled over the radio, listening intently.

‘Is there … in Fremantle? We're … boat … the lighthouse. Please … us.'

The three of them looked at me. The voice was shrill and panicked.

And American.

‘It's her,' I said.

Fremantle had lighthouses on each side of the harbour. The south light was close to town and flashed green. The north light was all the way back across the river and pulsed an ominous, distant red. We pulled on shoes, wheeled out our bikes and radioed over and over again. Green or red? Green or red? Green or red?

Finally there was a tiny broken crackle.

‘Red.'

The streets were pitch-dark and bristling with wind. Sophie's handlebar lights threw manic beams of blue across roads, buildings and the skulking form of Chess as we raced through the west end grid, then powered toward the working bridge. The radio chatter grew sparse, then stopped altogether as we crossed over the river.

I was working from memory and hoped to hell that I hadn't turned too early as we swung left and cut under the train line. There was ocean ahead of us somewhere. The fizzing rumble of shore break consumed the night air. We passed another railway track and the hulking cubes of shipping containers and warehouses. Abruptly the road stopped and our lights found only dunes ahead of us.

‘Which way to the lighthouse?' yelled Taylor.

I was saved from answering by a blip of light to our left. We waited a moment, then it came again.

‘Over there,' I replied. ‘At the end of this road.'

We fanned out across the road and raced towards the light. The wind was really howling from the west. My guess was that their boat had been blown in against the rocks.

‘Hello,' our radios chattered in stereo.

It was clearer now.

‘Where is your boat?' I replied.

‘Hello! We're against the rocks. Near the lighthouse,' came the reply.

As we closed in on the light, the road jutted out into proper ocean. We were on a groyne with rocks and water on both sides of us now.

We pulled up beside the lighthouse and peered over the edge. It was a nasty drop down to the dark, choppy water.

‘Do you see anything?' asked Lizzy.

The four of us were leaning over and torching around.

‘There's nothing here,' said Taylor.

Sophie turned around and ran across to the wilder, northern side.

We followed and for a moment were suspended in a great swathe of red light. Five frozen figures of the apocalypse. A second later it was gone. Our pupils coiled outward and we searched the ocean below. I heard voices, then a crackle of radio.

‘Here! Down here!'

We swung our torches left and found them.

A steel fishing dingy was pinned against the rocky groyne with a full load of passengers. From where I stood I counted at least six of them. We clambered closer, trying to get above them but the rock jutted out in a way that made it difficult to see them properly. It was a three-metre drop to the boat and climbing up onto the rocks looked impossible. They were large and steep and each new swell covered the lower third in water.

I looked past them to the end of the groyne. It was just a boat length away. The wind that was pinning them against the rocks was also whipping viciously around the end of the groyne. If the boat edged too far towards the end and lost its grip on the rocks, they could be swept south forever.

Another swathe of disco red. I realised that Lizzy was the only one still with me on the rocks. I turned and saw Taylor and Sophie running back towards us with a lifebuoy. It was roped to a metal stand somewhere behind them. They gathered beside us and prepared to throw it down. Taylor took my radio.

‘Grab a hold of this buoy and use the rope to pull yourselves up over the rocks. Only one at a time or it could snap,' said Taylor.

There was some chatter in the boat, then somebody radioed through an okay. Sophie flung the buoy to the right of them and let the wind drift it up. The rope went taut beside me. There was some clunking below. Long seconds ticked by. The red light came once. Then again. Finally a figure emerged up and over the rocks.

It was a guy. He was skinny and drenched. We helped him down onto the road, where he sat, hunched and drawn.

‘What the hell are you guys doing out there?' said Lizzy.

‘Fishing,' said the guy, meekly.

Next came a short girl who was shivering severely. Then an older guy who needed to be pulled up over the
final rock. Taylor and Sophie were kneeling beside them on the road, sharing some water we had brought along and both of their jackets. Lizzy and I stood at the rock awaiting the remaining passengers.

The rope had been taut for a while. Just as I was wondering if something had happened the lighthouse drenched us in red and Georgia rose up out of the darkness.

She was stunned by the light and Lizzy and I caught her just as she stumbled forward.

‘Hey,' I said.

Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were wide and shaken.

‘Nox? Hey. God. I can't …' said Georgia, her voice suddenly gone.

She teared up and dropped her forehead onto my chest. Lizzy was watching and flashed a smile before turning back to the rope. It was still slack.

‘Yo,' radioed Lizzy. ‘Who's next?'