Music From Standing Waves (7 page)

“You know it’s my fault Sarah’s being so
shitty to you. She found out I’m still having violin lessons.”

“I know that,” said Nick. “And I’m
unbelievably grateful.”

I chewed my thumbnail. “Least she didn’t
smash your violin.”

Nick rolled over and tapped ash into a glass
beside his bed. He held the cigarette out to me. “Want a drag?”

I shook my head.

Nick sat up on his elbows and looked at me
for the first time. His eyes were bright blue, like Tim’s. I wished
I had them too: Dad’s eyes, not Sarah’s.

“So where
does
all your money go?” I
asked finally. I wondered if Nick would yell at me the way he had
yelled at Mum. Instead, he just laughed bitterly.

“What?” I demanded.

“You figure it out.”

I picked at a loose flap of rubber on my
sneakers. “Are you saving up for a secret trip? Because that’s what
I’d be doing.”

“Sure.”

“Where would you go? I’d go to France and
have an
amant secret.
It means ‘secret lover’.

Nick snorted. “Who’s been filling your head
with this secret lovers crap?”

“Hayley.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’d be right.”

I frowned. “Why do you hate her so much?”

“I don’t hate her,” said Nick. “She’s just
all froth and no beer, that’s all.”

“What do you mean all froth and no beer?”

“Never mind.” Nick dropped his cigarette into
the cup beside the bed. “Tell you what Abby, if I had the money to
go get a French lover, everyone would be hearing about it, but it
ain’t happening.” He flashed me a dark smile. “Haven’t you heard
about this place? Once you’re in, you’re in for good. No-one gets
out alive…”

I hugged my ankles and peered over my knees
at my brother. “I’m getting out of here. I’m going to get another
violin and then I’m going to go and become a concert
violinist.”

Nick lay back on his pillow and closed his
eyes. “Yeah. So am I.”

“I am!” I snapped. “Andrew said I’m good
enough to go overseas if I want to. And maybe I do.”

Nick lifted his headphones again. “Well then.
Don’t I wish I was you.”

“Someone bashed a hole in the wall of Psycho
George’s,” Justin announced.

“So?” I gestured to him to come inside, but
he stayed on my front porch, bouncing around like there was
something in his shoe.

“So we should go check it out. I heard
there’s bloodstains in the bath. From where George killed his
wife.”

I screwed up my nose. “That’s
disgusting.”

“My brother told me it’s awesome,” Justin
grinned.

“Go with your brother then.”

He took my arm. “I thought we were going to
hang today.”

“Yeah. We’re supposed to be going to the
movies remember?”

Without my violin, I felt more like a normal
teenager; filling the hole in my life with the mundane and
meaningless. I’d painted my nails, watched eight thousand episodes
of
Friends
and finally learned to braid my own hair. I’d
spent more time with Justin in the last few weeks than I had all
year.

That morning, I’d spent half an hour in front
of the mirror trying to find the perfect going-to-the-movies
hairstyle. My head was an elaborate sculpture of butterfly clips
and I was wearing my new halter-neck dress that made my legs look
ultra-long. The last thing I wanted to do was go traipsing through
the filthy old hang out of some throat-slitting ghost.

“Nick said he’ll give us a lift to Cairns,” I
said, flicking my hair with what I hoped resembled laid-back
sophistication. “But he’s leaving in, like, five minutes.”

Justin sighed. “Okay then. I guess so.”

I grabbed my bag and followed him out of the
house.

“Oh shit!” he laughed. “Check out the sky!
It’s totally gonna storm!” He grinned. “Man, how perfect is
this!”

Black monsoon clouds were creeping over the
street like bulging potato sacks. The air sizzled with electricity.
The hot breeze smelled of rain.

“Come on Abby, we have to do this. It’ll be
awesome. Like a horror movie.”

“I hate horror movies,” I said.

“It won’t take long, I promise. I just want
to check out the bloodstains. Then we can go watch a video at my
place. Come on. Please.”

I gave an enormous sigh. “Fine.”

Justin grinned. “Aren’t you even a little bit
curious? You might get to meet Psycho George!”

“No!” I wondered if he knew I was lying. The
truth was, I desperately wanted to believe a ghost roamed the
deserted house. It made life seem less black and white; as though
the world was mysterious and intangible, even within the confines
of Acacia Beach. Regardless, scouring someone’s scungy old
bloodstained bathroom wasn’t exactly the way I had envisaged
spending my Sunday.

The house seemed to grow larger as we
approached; its purple shadows oozing over the street. The sky
darkened too; blacker with each step.

A fat globe of water exploded on the tip of
my nose. “I have to pee,” I said.

Justin ignored me. He pushed aside a mass of
weeds to reveal a gaping hole in the side wall of the house.
Tendrils of fern tickled my face. Justin scrambled inside as rain
began to pelt the garden.

“Come on.” He reached out his hand. I crawled
reluctantly through the hole, jagged weatherboards scratching my
shoulders. I stood up. We were in the kitchen. Sink and wooden
bench, peeling laminate cupboards. Grimy fridge and microwave.
Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Psycho George had a microwave?” A cockroach
scuttled across the lino and I leapt backwards into Justin.

“Were you hoping for some scary paintings or
candles or something?” he laughed. “Cos that could be arranged.” He
poked my waist and I slapped him away.

“Just go and find the stupid bathroom,” I
said, my voice coming out wobblier than I had hoped. “It’s
disgusting in here.”

He squeezed my arm. “Are you scared?”

“You know I am! And you’re really starting to
piss me off!”

“Fine. You stay down here. I’m just going to
run upstairs. Look for Psycho George.”

I plonked myself onto the bottom step.
Slapped at a spider as it scurried over my bare toes. The storm was
growing heavier. I pictured the barrels of grey rain as they ripped
across the reef. I looked down. My new dress was smeared with
mud.

I knew I’d been stupid to think anything
could ever happen between Justin and I. That we could slide
smoothly from being primary school buddies to two halves of a
couple. No matter how hard either of us tried to see things
differently, I would never be anything but the dorky kid down the
street.

Shutters smashed against the boarded windows.
I stood up and yelled into the empty house. “Justin? I’m going
home, alright.”

No answer. I nibbled my thumbnail.

“Jus?” Rain drowned out my voice. Hesitantly,
I climbed onto the first step. It groaned under my weight. I took
another step, and another, tiptoeing all the way to the second
floor. I peered down the gloomy corridor. The shards of daylight
were thin and pale. Shadows danced over the walls.

“Justin? Where the hell are you?” Gingerly, I
pushed against the first door in the passage. The room behind it
was an empty shell.

Justin leapt out and grabbed me around the
waist. I shrieked and whacked him hard in the stomach.

“Fucking hell,” he spluttered. “I was just
mucking around!”

“Yeah well it’s not funny! When are you going
to grow up? We’re not little kids anymore you know!”

We glared at each other. The shutters banged
and the old house groaned.

“I’m going,” Justin said finally. “There’s
nothing there. Just a bunch of empty rooms. Don’t know what Hugh
was on about.”

I hurried downstairs after him, not wanting
his company, but wanting even less to be in the creaky old house
alone. We climbed out through the hole in the wall. The silver
marbles of the monsoon slapped against our skin as we sprinted up
the street. Water bubbled out of the gutters.

Justin stopped suddenly and grabbed my elbow.
I squinted through the sheets of rain. His mum was arm in arm with
my parents, huddled under an umbrella and heading for his
house.

“You don’t think they were looking for us do
you?” he asked.

We clicked open Justin’s front door and
hurried down the hallway. Michelle was sitting on the couch with
Hugh beside her. Tears rushed down her cheeks. Dad sat with a hand
on Michelle’s shoulder, Sarah in the armchair opposite. We walked
into the back room, leaving silver trails of water on the tiles. My
voice came out in a whisper.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mum?” said Justin. “What’s going on?”

Michelle wiped her eyes. “Oh honey. Your
dad’s fishing boat is out past the Marine Park and Coast Guard lost
contact with them when the storm hit the reef.” She gave another
loud sob.

Justin stepped closer to me, the wet skin on
his upper arm pressing against mine. “What’s happened to them?”

“We don’t know,” said Dad. “They’re out
looking for them now.”

Justin stared through the smeary bay window.
Torrents of water streamed down the glass. Rain beat against the
old fisherman’s dinghy behind the washing line.

Michelle clutched the phone. “Why isn’t
anyone calling me? Do you think I should go down to the marina?
What if someone’s trying to ring and our line’s down?” She lifted
the receiver and listened for the dial tone.

Sarah reached over and patted her shoulder.
“It won’t do you any good to be down at the docks. I’m sure they’ll
call you as soon as they hear anything.”

“They shouldn’t even have been out there!”
Michelle sobbed. “Why would they go out in weather like this?”

“You know what these storms are like,” Dad
said gently. “They come on so quickly.”

Michelle looked over her shoulder at us. “Oh
God, they’re soaking wet,” she said distantly. “They need
towels…”

Justin rushed from the lounge. His sneakers
thumped against the floorboards as he trampled upstairs to his
bedroom. Michelle stood up.

“Wait,” I said. “Can I go and talk to
him?”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“I think he would like that.” She pulled me into her suddenly and
held me in a tight embrace. I could hear the faint drumming of her
heart.

The steps creaked under my feet as I climbed
up to Justin’s bedroom. I knocked faintly.

“Can I come in?”

No answer.

I turned the handle and peeked inside. Justin
was curled up on top of his red and blue coverlet. He stared
blankly at a wide crack along the ceiling, muddy feet resting
against the pillow. I nibbled my thumbnail. My wet dress clung to
my legs.

“Jus?” I stood motionless in the doorway. “Do
you want me to go?” I took a step backwards.

He sat up. “No. Stay.”

I perched beside him on the bed and picked at
the mud on hem of my dress.

“Can I tell you a secret?” His voice was
scratchy.

I nodded.

He took a deep breath. “I’m really
scared.”

I hugged the soft flesh above his elbow and
held my eyes closed against his t-shirt. I slid my hand down his
arm until our fingers laced. His hand was warm in mine. I stared
into the floorboards. Neither of us spoke. Rain pelted the windows
and overflowed out of the drain. Finally, I said in a squeaky
voice:

“Of course you’re scared. I’m scared
too.”

Justin lurched suddenly and threw his arms
around me. I swallowed hard. In all our fifteen years, we’d
tickled, punched, poked, Chinese burned and wedgied, but never held
each other. Not like this. My heart was pounding. I stared into his
wavy blonde hair. I wanted to touch it, but kept my hands resting
on his back, my thumbs tracing subconsciously over his wet t-shirt.
His head began to shudder and I felt hot tears slide down my
shoulder.

“What if they don’t find him?” His words were
muffled. I lowered my head until my cheek touched his hair.

“Don’t think like that.”

Justin curled back against his pillow and I
lay beside him, our legs entwining. I took out my butterfly clips
and let my hair fall across my cheek. Our wet bodies left imprints
on the coverlet. Justin looked at me with watery eyes. For a while,
we lay in silence.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said
finally, resting his hand on my side. His fingers slid up and down
my waistband. I felt hot and squirmy.

“Sorry about that stupid house,” he said. “I
didn’t mean to scare you that bad. And I’m sorry you messed up your
new dress,”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m glad you noticed. I
didn’t think you would.”

Justin paused. “I notice lots of stuff about
you.”

“Really? I thought I was old news. That I’d
always just been there. Like wallpaper or something.”

Justin laughed a little. “Wallpaper?”

“You know what I mean. Like there’s nothing
new and exciting about me.”

“Your dress is new,” smiled Justin. “And it
looks hot.”

I giggled, feeling my cheeks fill with
colour. Justin shuffled closer to me. His breath was hot against my
cheek. I closed my eyes and listened to the rain splatter against
the roof. Slowly, the drumming eased; softer and softer until I
could hear us both breathe.

I looked up. Over Justin’s shoulder I could
see the vibrant turquoise sea and the sharp edge of the horizon as
the purple storm clouds became sunset.

“It’s clearing,” I said. “They’re going to
find him now.”

We fell into a distressed sleep, lying with
our heads at the bottom the bed. Floating in and out of
consciousness, I was aware of Michelle walking in and out of the
room, and of a blanket being thrown over us and the light being
turned off. When I woke up properly, it was at the shrill ringing
of the phone, which had started in my dream then turned into
reality. I sat up in the darkness. My legs were cramped and sore.
Justin lay on his side, facing away from me. I wondered whether to
wake him. Then, he sat up on his elbow and mumbled: