One Dead Seagull (28 page)

Along the ridge the
landscape
changed.
The ferns had
disappeared
and
in
their
place
grew
a
spiky
yellow-flowered
bush.
The
trees
weren
’
t
nearly
as
tall
as
they
were on
the
hillside
and their
bark
was
brown
and scraggy
like old
carpet.
I
managed
to
walk
behind
Ker
r
y
most
of
the
wa
y
,
watching
her
bum
through
her
thin
shorts.
She
was walking
and
talking
like
nothing
had
happened
between us.
Baz
walked
in
front
and
he
held
his
hand
up
for
us
to stop.
I
walked
into
Kez
and
she
grunted.

‘What
is
it?’

Baz
shushed
me
with
a
finger
and
pointed.
Sauntering along
the
track
was
the
scariest
looking
animal
I’ve
seen
in the
wild.
An
enormous
black
lizard
flecked
with
gold.
His toes—I
guessed
it
was
a
bo
y
,
looked
too
brutal
to
be anything
else—ended
in
shiny
black
claws
that
could
rip
a man
apart.
Eve
r
y
step
looked
like
a
huge
effort.

Ker
r
y
grabbed
my
hand.

‘Oh
my
God.
Isn
’
t
it
beautiful?’
Gracie
whispered. That
’
s
not
the
word
I
would
have
used,
maybe
some
thing like ‘savage’
or that
handy
word
‘awesome’
that
describes
anything
that
pounds
the
senses.
Griz
would probably
have
this
monster
as
a
pet—they
say
some
pets look
like
their
owners.

It
showed
no
sign
of
having
seen
us.
It
just
kept
getting
close
r
.
Den
yelped
and
jumped
on
his
dad
’
s
back
and
the
movement
scared
the
lizard.
It
bolted
into
the
scrub
and
straight up
one
of
the
scruffy-barked
trees.
It
stopped
just above head
height,
flattening
its
body
and
moulding
itself to
the
cu
r
ve
of
the
trunk.
Den
got
off
Bar
r
y
’
s
back
and
confidently
picked
his
way
to
the
tree.

‘What
is
it?’
Kez
asked
squeezing
my
hand.
I
squeezed
back.

‘De
r
,
it
’
s
a
lizard,’
Den
said.
At
the
sound
of
a
voice
so close,
the monster
puffed
itself
full
of
air
and
exhaled
like a
steam
engine.
Den
toppled
over
and
scrambled
behind his
dad.
Bar
r
y
smiled.

‘It
’
s
all
right.
He
won
’
t
hurt
you,
as
long as
you
don
’
t
get too
close.
Lace
monito
r
.
T
ype
of
goanna.
Big
one,
too.’

Lace
monito
r
. What
a
stupid
name
for
a
big
lizard. Sounds
like
someone
who
cleans
up
at
the
end
of
sewing
class. Should
be
called
‘Dragon’ at
least.
Y
eah.
‘Grisly Dragon.’

A
te
n
-minute
wal
k
alon
g
th
e
ridg
e
too
k
u
s
t
o
a
spot wher
e
th
e
trac
k
branche
d
an
d
Ba
z
ha
d
u
s
sto
p
agai
n
and
listen.

‘What?
I
can
’
t
hear
anything,’
Den
complained.

‘Wind
in
the
trees?’

‘Close
.
.
.’

‘It
’
s
water!
W
e’re
nearly
there,’
Ker
r
y
said.

Baz
loped off down
the
narrow
track
that vanished behind
a
pile
of
motley
lichen-covered
rocks.

‘I
thought
you
guys
had
been
here
before?’

‘
Y
eah.
W
e
have,
but
we
always
come
in
another
wa
y
.
A
shorter
wa
y
,’
Den
said.

‘There
’
s
a
shorter
way?’

Kez
nodded
and
pushed
me
along
the
track
mumbling, ‘It
’
s
my
turn
no
w
.’

I
looked
at
the
rocks
and
trees
and
even
saw
a
few
birds
darting
amongst
the shrubs
that
surrounded
the track
but I
only
noticed
a
burning
lump
in
my
shorts.

Kapunda
Falls.
They
put
the
fire
out.
W
e
picked
our
way
through rocks
until we
came
to
a
ledge
about
six
metres
wide
and
as
flat
as
a
road.
The
ledge
looked
hand-ca
r
ved,
like
some
ancient
Dreamtime
spirit
had
cut
it
with
a
gigantic
brick sa
w
. Some
old
one-handed
Dreamtime spirit,
my
guess.
Standing
close
to
the
edge,
I
felt
like
I
was falling
but
from
a
few
paces
back
I
could
see
that
the
cliff
face
would
look
like
a
weathered
skyscraper
from
across the
valle
y
.
I
could
imagine
the
skeletons
of
windows
and balconies way
below
me,
all
softened
by
the
wind
and
rain. The
river
that
fed
the
falls
thundered
down
a
gully
and
leapt
out
from
the
cliff
face.
Roaring
and
sparkling, it
fell against
the
cliff sixty
metres
below
then
came
together amongst the
rocks
to
become
a
river
again
flashing through
the
ferns
and
out
of
sight.
It
was—am
I
allowed
to
say
it?
A
wesome.
W
ell, beautiful.

W
e
ate
lunch
on
the
edge.
Den
dangled
his
feet
ove
r
.
I sat
with
Kez
and
Gracie
and
shouted
conversation
about how
magnificent
the
view
was.
Bar
r
y
had
picked
his
way up
onto
a
boulder
that
overlooked
the
falls
and
us.
When I’d finished my
sandwich
I
crept
up
behind Den
and grabbed
him
on
the
shoulders.

‘Saved
you!’

In
reflex
his
hands
shot
out
behind
him
sending
half his
cheese
sandwich
tumbling
down
the
cliff
face.

‘Fuck
off,’
he
spat,
his
eyes
black.
He
got
to
his
feet
and pushed
me
hard.
T
oo
hard.
‘Sister
roote
r
.’

‘
T
ake
it
eas
y
,
Den.’

‘Arsehole.’

H
e
pushe
d
m
e
agai
n
an
d
I
fel
l
ont
o
m
y
bum
.
He puffe
d
u
p
a
s
thoug
h
h
e
wa
s
goin
g
t
o
poun
d
m
e
an
d
I
coul
d
fee
l
mysel
f
pullin
g
back
,
glazin
g
ove
r
,
starin
g
into nothingness
.
W
aitin
g
fo
r
hi
m
t
o
hi
t
me
.
Fro
m
th
e
corner o
f
m
y
ey
e
I
coul
d
se
e
hi
s
cheek
s
pulle
d
tigh
t
an
d
teeth
bared.

He
didn
’
t hit
me.
I
wish
he
had.
W
ould
have
been
all
ove
r
i
n a
flash-of-where
’
s-you
r
-grandmothe
r
an
d
he
wouldn
’
t
stew
over
it.
Instead,
he
picked
up
the
pack
of
ropes
and
walked
towards
the
falls,
to
a
tree
that
had perched
itself
in
the
crevice
between
a
couple
of
huge boulders.
As
thick
as
my
waist
at
the
ground,
it
towered
over
the
rubble
of
prickly
shrubs
and
rock.
He
took
a
short,
thick
rope
from
the
pack
and
looped
it
around
the base
of
the
tree,
feeding
a
metal
clip
through
the
loop
on either
end.
I
walked
ove
r
.

‘I’ll
get
you
back.
Here,
hold
this
crab,’
he
shouted.

He
handed
me
a
metal
clip
like
the
one
on
the
tree rope.
His
eyes
were
still
black
and
pinched.

‘Doesn
’
t
look
anything
like
a
crab,’
I
said.

‘Carabine
r
.
Cra
b
fo
r
short,
’
h
e
shouted
,
a
s
h
e
climbed
int
o
a
we
b
o
f
blu
e
seatbel
t
material
.
I
t
pulle
d
u
p
tight
aroun
d
hi
s
bu
m
an
d
thigh
s
t
o
b
e
a
nea
t
harnes
s
that
mad
e
th
e
fron
t
o
f
hi
s
short
s
bulge
.
H
e
hoiste
d
hi
s
balls fro
m
lef
t
t
o
righ
t
unti
l
h
e
wa
s
comfortabl
e
the
n
aske
d
for th
e
crab
.
H
e
untie
d
a
bi
g
coi
l
o
f
tarta
n
rop
e
an
d
thre
w
it
ove
r
th
e
edg
e
whil
e
holdin
g
th
e
en
d
s
o
tigh
t
hi
s
knuckles wen
t
white
.
I
watche
d
i
t
flic
k
an
d
wriggl
e
dow
n
t
o
the nex
t
ledge
,
mayb
e
thirt
y
metre
s
belo
w
.
A
war
m
breeze
tumble
d
u
p
th
e
valle
y
an
d
prickle
d
m
y
fac
e
wit
h
mist
fro
m
th
e
fall
s
s
o
softl
y
i
t
fel
t
lik
e
th
e
kisse
s
o
f
angel
s
I
close
d
m
y
eye
s
an
d
lifte
d
m
y
arms
.
I
wa
s
flying.