Red Rocks (3 page)

T
he boys were gone when he reached the blue and white house with the whirling windmills. The front door was open, and classical music wafted from inside. Perhaps he should go and ring the doorbell and see if the dog was all right. But then he’d have to admit that he hadn’t stopped the bullies from tormenting the poor animal. He blushed at the memory, and his legs just wouldn’t let him walk through the
gate. As he turned to go, the dog came trotting outside with a bone. Its tail was wagging. Jake nearly shouted with joy, but instead he pedalled quietly away.

When he got home, Dad was sitting
drinking
tea at the table.

‘There you are,’ he said. ‘How’s your day been?’

Eager to forget the incident with the dog, Jake told him about what had happened at the beach, about falling in the water, and offering to help the old man.

‘I don’t know if I’m very happy about this, Jake,’ said his dad.

‘But I thought you’d be proud of me,’ said Jake. He felt his face growing hot. When he was younger, he would have started crying; now he just felt angry.

‘I
am
proud of you.’ Dad pulled him in for a quick hug. His face was scratchy as usual, even though he shaved every day. He pushed Jake away and looked deep into his eyes, pinning his
arms to his sides. ‘But going into a stranger’s house. Changing your clothes … I’m beginning to feel like a bad parent. I think I’ve let you have too much freedom.’

‘No!’ Jake turned away. ‘I like my freedom. You’re too busy to do anything with me anyway.’ What would he do, cooped up in the house where his dad could see him all day?

‘I just want you to be more responsible, mate. But it’s not your fault; it’s mine. Maybe you’re too young to be off on your own like that.’

‘I’m not!’ Jake exploded. He thought his ears would burst. He didn’t want to talk about it any more. He stomped off to his room, shutting — not slamming — the door behind him.

His father followed him in and sat on the bed, where Jake lay with his face in his pillow.

‘Okay,’ said his dad. ‘We need to talk about this. We need to sort it out. I think it’s great that you offered to help this old guy out, Jake — that’s really kind of you. That makes me feel like your mum and me have done something
right in bringing you up. Maybe I overreacted. But please, please don’t go wandering off into strangers’ houses. Surely you remember that’s the first lesson we taught you when you were little — don’t talk to strangers, no matter how many biscuits they offer you.’

Jake nodded. He lifted his face from his pillow. ‘I know all that. But I was wet and cold. I didn’t want to get pneumonia and die. You wouldn’t want that, would you?’

His dad chuckled. ‘No, of course not. But that’s the other thing. How can I rest easy knowing you’re throwing yourself into freezing cold water? You could have drowned. The sea gets so rough out there, mate. You need to think about what you’ve done. No Red Rocks for you tomorrow while I think about what to do with you.’

‘Aw, Dad!’

‘No “aw, Dads” thank you.’

‘But —’

‘No buts either.’

After Dad left the room, Jake rolled onto his back and fingered the ten-dollar note in his pocket. He had wanted to remind his dad that he had it, but couldn’t get a word in edgeways. What was he supposed to do with it? He’d wait and see what his father said tomorrow, then find some way to get it back to Ted. He hung his head over the side of the bed and peered into the darkness. The sealskin was still there, waiting.

The next day dragged. Jake stayed in bed reading a book long after breakfast while his dad worked in his writing shed. After lunch, he asked if he could go down to the beach in front of the house.

‘Not too far,’ said Dad. ‘I want to be able to see you.’

The narrow, rocky foreshore was deserted, apart from a huge crowd of black-backed gulls who were hanging about on a patch of sand. They looked as though they were having a well-behaved party. Jake picked up a stick and
drew monster faces and spaceships in the sand between the black rocks. When he got bored with that he tried to see how many times he could break the stick in half. It only took three times before the bits got too small to break. He threw the pieces, one by one, into the sea, which was calm today, quietly sluicing the coarse sand with tiny frilly waves. He turned to look back up to where his dad sat, at his desk in the shed. He could see a dark shape, so he waved, but there was no movement. Perhaps he wasn’t watching after all. Jake thought about taking off — not to Red Rocks, but maybe just to the shop, to get an ice cream. He still had the ten-dollar note in his pocket.

Just as he was about to start out for the dairy, he saw a figure coming along the road towards him. It walked on the footpath, but kept stopping every few metres. Jake waited, intrigued. It wasn’t long before he saw it was the red-haired woman. She was pausing at each letterbox and staring hard at each house for a
few seconds before moving on, still looking as though she was searching for something. Her grey coat flapped about her knees. Jake crouched down behind the bank that led up to the road. He waited. He imagined her stopping at his dad’s letterbox, then looking up at him working away on his book. Jake wondered if his dad had seen her or if he was too engrossed in his work. He was about to pop up and see if the woman had passed by when he heard the sound of a window being flung open.

‘
Jake!
’ There was real anxiety in his father’s voice. Jake stood up, glad now that he hadn’t taken off to the shop, ice cream or no. He climbed up the bank, back onto the road. The woman was nowhere to be seen.

‘I’m here,’ he called, and waved with both arms over his head.

Dad beckoned, and Jake went back through the front gate and up the path at the side of the house.

His father’s writing shed was smaller
than Jake’s bedroom. An armchair sat in one corner, and a desk by the window. The walls were covered with pictures of sea birds and marine life: whales, jellyfish, sharks. It was quiet today, but on stormy days the hut rattled and whistled.

On one wall there was a picture of some baby seals — the cute kind, the ones that get killed for their white fur. It reminded Jake of what he had under his bed, and he wondered again who had left it, who could have been so cruel as to skin a seal. Or perhaps the seal had already died before its coat was taken. He thought again about telling his father about it, but stopped himself. Dad would want to put it back, or worse, keep it for himself. He felt a flash of anger, then surprise that the sealskin had stirred such strong feelings in him, as if it had some magic pull over him.

‘You okay?’ asked Dad.

‘Yes,’ said Jake, but he knew he didn’t sound okay.

‘Really? What have you been up to?’

Jake shrugged, then dropped himself into the armchair.

‘How about we go for a ride in the boat soon? Maybe tomorrow or the next day, if the weather’s good.’

Jake shrugged again. ‘Sure.’ The truth was that he was excited by the idea of going out in the boat, but he wanted his dad to feel a little bit guilty for not letting him roam free. It seemed to be working, too.

Then he remembered the woman with the red hair. ‘Did you see that crazy lady again?’

‘You mean the one from the fish and chip shop? Don’t say “crazy” like that, Jake, it’s mean. And no, where was she?’

‘She was walking along the road, looking at all the houses.’

Dad frowned. ‘Really? That’s strange. You see why I don’t like you wandering around. Where did she go?’

Jake wished now he hadn’t said anything.
‘I don’t know. She was there one minute, then she was gone.’

Dad threw a screwed-up piece of paper at him and smiled, suddenly twinkly. ‘You sure she wasn’t a ghost? Sure you didn’t make her up?’

‘Ha ha,’ said Jake, still not smiling, but he wondered for a moment if maybe he had imagined her — after all, she had just disappeared, and his mum and teachers always told him he had an overactive imagination, that he was too dreamy.

Jake’s dad must have felt really guilty, because that afternoon he finished work early and took Jake to the movies in Island Bay. Afterwards they went to an Indian restaurant for dinner, and Jake had his favourite, butter chicken, which was creamy and delicious, and not too spicy. His dad dared him to eat some of his vindaloo, and he couldn’t say no, but afterwards his tongue tingled with a fire that no amount of water could put out.

When the meal was finished and his dad got up to pay, he turned to Jake and said, ‘I’ve come to a decision, Jake. You can keep going to Red Rocks, but I want to meet this Ted character. We’ll buy the veges and I’ll come with you tomorrow to help deliver them, okay?’

Jake nodded. Things were going to be just fine.

T
en dollars didn’t buy a lot of vegetables, but Jake’s dad topped up the bag with a few extras — some crisp apples and some bright spinach on top of the carrots, onions, broccoli and potatoes — even though Jake guessed he probably couldn’t afford it.

They walked without talking, Jake trotting ahead and looking back as his father’s feet crunched steadily on the stones. Soon, the
shack, with its grey, peeling paint, came into view. The air carried the smell of smoke from the wood stove. Jake suddenly felt nervous about the coming meeting, but he wasn’t sure whether he didn’t want Ted to meet his dad or the other way around. As they approached the front door, he walked very close behind Dad, just as he’d done when he was small, ready to hide behind him if needed.

Ted took a long time to answer the door. He looked tired, as though he had just woken from a nap. Jake noticed for the first time that he had patches of grey hair sprouting from his cheeks, well above his beard, and his skin was cracked like a dry riverbed. His bad eye was nearly closed.

‘Ted, is it?’ said Dad, and held out the bag of vegetables. ‘We’ve got a delivery for you.’

Ted nodded, took the bag and limped inside, leaving the door open. Dad stuck his head inside. ‘Should we come in?’ he said.

‘Please yourself,’ said Ted.

This was not going how Jake had hoped. If Ted was rude and horrible, there was surely no way his dad would let him play out here any more. They stepped inside. Maybe Ted was angry with him for taking two days to come back. He wondered if he should apologise, but his shyness had cemented his mouth shut.

Ted had limped his way to the kitchen bench, and in the corner, crouching on the single bed, was the little girl from the other day. She looked like a scared animal, with her legs pulled up inside the oversized jersey she wore. Grubby bare feet poked out from under it.

‘This is my granddaughter, Jessie,’ said Ted.

As soon as he said it, Dad’s hand, which had been holding tightly to Jake’s shoulder, relaxed.

‘Pleased to meet you, Jessie,’ said his dad. ‘I’m Robert. This is Jake.’ He squeezed Jake’s shoulder.

‘We’ve met,’ said Jake.

‘Oh?’ said Dad. ‘You never said.’

Jake didn’t say anything.

‘Sit down, sit down,’ said Ted. ‘Tea’s made.’

Dad pushed Jake towards the single bed and sat himself down in one of the two armchairs. Jake perched on the end of the bed as far from Jessie as he could get. He felt the girl staring at him, but when he looked at her she looked away. He studied her profile for a moment. She had a pointy, upturned nose and her hair was the colour of rust.

Dad asked Ted if he did much fishing, and pretty soon the adults were in deep conversation about what was the best kind of rod and bait to use, whether it was best to cast into the surf or go out in a boat. Jake stopped listening when he realised that Jessie was playing a game with him, trying to get him to catch her staring at him, even poking her tongue out at him. Soon she couldn’t stop herself from giggling and he had a grin on his face as well.

It was only when the grown-ups started talking about the seals that Jessie stopped playing the game and started listening, so Jake did too.

‘But they’re all bachelors, those seals,’ his dad was saying. ‘They come over from the top of the South Island when they don’t have a mate and wait out the breeding season.’

‘Ah, don’t believe everything you’ve heard,’ said Ted. ‘I’ve seen the odd female there; juveniles, too.’

‘Are you sure they’re not just small males you’ve seen?’

‘Nah. I’m not stupid. I know what to look for. The females are smaller in the neck. They carry their fat lower down.’

‘I’m sorry, sir.’ Dad was polite suddenly, as if afraid he’d offended Ted. ‘Well, that’s fascinating. I’ve been thinking about writing a book about the wildlife on Wellington’s south coast, actually. The seals would be a good place to start. I reckon plenty of people would buy a book like that.’

Ted looked at Jessie, who was staring at the old man, her dark eyes narrowed.

‘Ah …’ He was still looking at Jessie. ‘What
about the penguins? They’re much more
interesting
. Did you know that the little blue penguin …’

Jessie smiled and moved suddenly. Her legs shot out the bottom of her jumper, showing raggedy cut-off shorts, and she jumped down to the floor. ‘Come on,’ she said, and took Jake’s hand. She pulled him to his feet.

Jake’s dad stopped talking mid-sentence and smiled. ‘Yes, go, go. I’m fine here with Ted. Go and play, by all means.’ This was a good sign, that Dad liked Ted.

‘Aren’t you cold?’ asked Jake when they got outside. The wind was not as icy as it had been the other day; it blew from the north, much more gently, but it was still wintry.

‘No,’ said Jessie. ‘Let us go down to the water.’

Her voice sounded strange, as though she had a foreign accent, but Jake couldn’t place it. She spoke too slowly and her voice was deep for a girl. She walked into the sea and stood with the water lapping at her knees.

‘I’m not going in there again,’ he said. ‘I fell in the other day and it was freezing.’

Jessie’s face broke into a smile. She laughed, a weird barking sound. ‘I know.’ She stopped laughing suddenly. ‘I mean, my grandfather told me.’

Jake sat down on a log and started biffing stones into the water. Jessie, who had been so quiet, now started asking him a lot of questions. Like, where did he live? Did he have any brothers and sisters? Did he go to school? (Of course he did! What a silly question.)

‘What about you?’ Jake asked. ‘Where do you normally live?’

Jessie stood up from where she had been trailing her hands in the water. She didn’t seem to care how wet she got. ‘Over there.’ She pointed out to sea. On clear days you could see the snowy mountains of the South Island, but not today.

‘Over the water, you mean?’ asked Jake. Jessie nodded.

‘In Picton?’

She hesitated then said, ‘Yes.’

‘Did you come over on the ferry?’

‘Yes.’ Then she sat, fully clothed, in the water and started pouring it over herself with her hands, as if she were taking a warm bath. ‘I live in a big house with my father and my mother. I have ten brothers and ten sisters. I go to school every single day. Except for when I am staying here with my grandfather.’

She’s lying, thought Jake. Oh well, let her make up stories. He didn’t really care. There was one thing he wanted to know though.

‘Who’s that red-haired woman I saw here the other day?’

Jessie stopped playing with the water and stared at him. ‘She is my aunt.’

‘So she’s Ted’s daughter?’

She thought for a moment. ‘Yes.’

‘What’s her name?’

Again, Jessie hesitated. ‘Cara … Cara … Caraway.’

Jake started to get annoyed. How could he be sure she was telling the truth? Caraway wasn’t even a name. He was pretty sure it was a kind of spice.

‘Well, what’s she looking for, then?’

Jessie stood up. She came walking out of the water towards him. Her skin had turned a light shade of blue, but she wasn’t shivering. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. She looked scared.

‘I keep seeing her everywhere. She just walks around looking in windows and people’s front yards and everything. Dad thinks she’s not right in the head.’

‘Not right in the head? What does this mean?’

‘You know.’ Jake tapped his temple with his finger. ‘Crazy.’

He thought he might make her mad, and he regretted it as soon as he said it. But she just sighed and sat down on the log beside him.

‘It is complicated,’ she said. ‘You would not understand.’

Her shoulder was touching his. The cold and wetness soaked into his hoodie. He felt a shiver go down his body and knew that he couldn’t ask her any more.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go back inside. Dad’s probably waiting for me.’

But when they got back to Ted’s hut, his dad looked very comfortable, with a fresh mug of tea in his hand. He didn’t seem impatient at all, even though he’d warned Jake on the way over that he had a lot of work he needed to do that day.

‘Jake! Jessie!’ Dad beamed at them. It was as though he was drunk. Then Jake saw why.

Sitting on the bed, opposite Dad, was Caraway. Despite her shabby, too-big clothes, she managed to look graceful as she crossed her long, bare legs. Jake felt himself blushing and looked away.

‘This is my son, Jake,’ said Dad. ‘My pride and joy.’

Jake wished his father would shut up; he was
embarrassing him now, making him feel like a little kid. He didn’t want to be a little kid in front of Caraway.

‘Jake, this is —’

‘Caraway,’ said Jake. ‘I know. Hi.’

Dad let out a guffaw, and the woman smiled. ‘Caraway!’ said Dad. ‘Like the spice? Oh Jake, that’s hilarious. Where on earth did you get that idea?’

Jake looked around for Jessie, but the front door was open. She had scarpered. He balled his fists and stared at the ground.

‘It is Cara,’ said the woman, standing up and coming towards him. ‘Just Cara.’ She reached out a hand and Jake took it. Her fingers were smooth and cool and slightly damp. She didn’t seem at all crazy any more, and the sadness and worry he had seen before were gone. Her dark eyes looked straight into his and he found himself staring. The rest of the room appeared to go dark around them. A light breeze came from somewhere, and the sound of sea intensified.
There was something about her that he couldn’t place, and something was happening to him that he couldn’t control. The sea seemed to know it, and the wind, and the cliffs behind the house, which stretched and leaned in and moaned …

‘You can let go of her hand now, Jake,’ said Dad.

Jake dropped it, and the room was ordinary again. His father was grinning at him foolishly and Jake blushed again. Why was Dad determined to embarrass him?

‘Where’s Ted?’ he asked.

‘He’s outside,’ said Dad. ‘Chopping wood. I offered to do it for him, but he wouldn’t let me. I thought I’d better keep Cara here company anyway.’ He smiled a gooey smile at her.

Yuck, thought Jake. He’s gone all moon-eyed over her, like his friends were over Sarah, a girl at school. He supposed Sarah was quite pretty, but she was young and silly. Not like Cara.

Suddenly he had the urge to get Dad as far away from Cara as he could.

‘Can we go?’ he said. ‘You said you had work to do.’

‘Yes … yes, so I do.’ His father rose
reluctantly
to his feet. ‘It was delightful to meet you … Cara.’

She just nodded at him. But she winked at Jake. It didn’t matter how grey and worn her clothes were; in the dark little shack, she shone like the sun.