The Audrey of the Outback Collection (19 page)

Audrey picked up her shoes, tipped them upside down and shook them. Centipedes played hide-and-seek in shoes, and they had too many legs and a nasty bite.

She wished she hadn’t thought about centi pedes, but now they were in her mind. Once you thought something, you couldn’t
un
think it. You just had to wait for it to go away. Sometimes it was a long wait.

Audrey looked over at her little brother, Douglas, asleep in the other bed. His mouth hung open but, for once, he wasn’t sucking his thumb.

She picked up the hurricane lamp from the chest of drawers. If she was quick, she’d soon be back in bed, warm and safe, under her grey blanket.

The logs in the sitting-room fireplace glowed red. Although the flames had died down hours ago, there was still a hint of wood smoke. As Audrey tiptoed past, a log cracked open, spitting red sparks. She jumped and shot into the small kitchen.

Her parents’ bedroom door was closed. Mum was tired these days with that baby in her tummy. It must be like having a rabbit under her jumper. Dad reckoned Mum’s tummy would get even bigger. After the baby arrived, where would all that stretched skin go? Audrey couldn’t remember what Mum’s tummy looked like after Douglas was born.

Audrey opened the kitchen door with her free hand. The wind whipped her long fair hair. Her unbuttoned cardigan flapped. She pulled one side over the other and pinned it in place with her left arm.

Holding out the lamp, she stepped outside. Something in the darkness rattled. Probably the chook pen. Dad kept repairing it, but it still shook when the wind blew.

Careful not to tilt the lamp, Audrey closed the door quietly behind her.

The goats and chooks were asleep. Audrey felt as though she was the only person in the whole world who was awake. She beckoned to Stumpy. He didn’t like walking about at night, but he came because he was her friend.

Clouds raced past the moon. The moonlight seemed to turn off and on. Then the sky was totally dark.

Audrey hurried towards the long-drop dunny.

‘I hope there won’t be any spiders,’ she whispered to Stumpy. ‘Price reckoned there was a
huge
one in there this morning.’

A howl rose above the wind.

Audrey shivered. ‘I don’t like the sound of dingoes, do you, Stumpy?’

Stumpy shook his head.

Then something moved down by the well.

Audrey stood perfectly still. ‘Wh … what’s that?’

She peered into the darkness. The lamplight didn’t go far and the wind made her eyes water. ‘I saw something move. Fair dinkum, I did.’

She blinked dust from her eyes. Her heart pitter-pattered an urgent message:
go-back, go-back, go-back-inside
.

The clouds over the moon thinned. In the strange, weak light, she saw a pale shape hovering above the ground.

Two

‘Price!’ Audrey shoved open the door to her older brother’s tiny bedroom at the side of the house. ‘Wake up!’

A pool of light from the lamp showed Price’s eyes were closed, and he was snoring.

Audrey moved closer and shook him.

The snoring stopped.

Price sat up. His hair stuck out like dry grass. ‘Wassa matter?’

Audrey lifted the lamp.

He blinked at the sudden brightness.

‘Something’s outside,’ whispered Audrey.

‘It’s dark and the wind’s come up. What were you doin’ out there?’

Audrey put her free hand on her hip. ‘Checking the stars for twinkles.’

‘Checking the … oh, you were going to the dunny.’

‘I don’t say
dunny
. I’m a lady now, since I went to Beltana. Ladies say
twinkle
.’

Price flopped back onto his pillow and closed his eyes.

Audrey grabbed his arm. ‘I don’t want to wake Mum. Get up. I saw something out the back. It was white and it moved. Down near the well.’

Price’s eyes flicked open again. ‘You’re not pulling my leg, are you?’

Audrey shook her head.

Price threw back his blanket. His eggshell collection shook on its string. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. His blue pyjama pants were too short and his ankles showed. ‘Stay here.’

He headed for the door. As he opened it, dust blew into his room. He slipped outside, and the door snapped shut.

Audrey lowered the lamp. Her arm was beginning to ache.

Minutes ticked by.

Maybe Price shouldn’t be outside on his own.

He was taking a long time.

What if he was in trouble? If Price got eaten, it would be all her fault. She wasn’t sure what would have a mouth big enough to munch a boy that size, but something strange was out there.

She charged across to the door and flung it open before she could think so much that her legs went wobbly.

Outside, the wind still hissed, but the dingo had stopped howling.

Audrey blinked dust from her eyes.

Where was Price?

Three

Audrey peered right, then left, trying to see through the cloud of dust.

She felt something land on her shoulder and squawked like a chook. She looked down and saw Price’s hand. The lamp she was holding swung wildly.

‘It’s me, you dill!’ Price curled his lip. ‘Can’t see nothin’ but dust. Let’s go inside.’

Audrey decided that a trip to the dunny could wait. She wasn’t in that much of a hurry, and she was
not
going down there till it was light.

She put one finger to her lips to remind Price to be quiet, then they crept to her room. Stumpy had bolted for the bush when she ran to get Price, so there was no need to shush
him
.

Douglas had rolled over in his sleep and curled into a little ball. As he breathed, his nose gave a soft whistle.

‘Quick, Audrey,’ whispered Price. ‘You’re shivering.’

Audrey put the kerosene lamp on the chest of drawers and leapt into bed. She dragged the grey blanket up to her chin. ‘Stay with me for a while?’

Price nodded.

‘Can we leave the lamp on too?’

Price sat down on the kangaroo-skin rug. ‘I’ll tell you a story, if you want. How about
The Billy Goats Gruff
?’

‘Are trolls real?’ asked Audrey.

‘’Course not. You don’t even know what a troll
is
.’

‘Yes, I do. They live under bridges and eat billy goats.’ Audrey peered at her brother over the edge of the blanket. ‘Why do trolls only eat boy goats and not girl goats? I bet boy goats are tough.’

‘Do you want a story or not?’ Price’s voice rose to a louder whisper.

‘I can listen and think questions at the same time.’

‘Well,
I
can’t.’

‘That’s because you’re a boy. You’d be tough to eat too.’

Price sighed. ‘Once upon a time …’

‘
What
time?’

‘I don’t know.
Any
time. It’s the story that’s important. Not
when
it happened.’

When
a story took place
was
important. What if the billy goat had walked over the bridge a day earlier? The troll might have been on the other side of the mountain. He wouldn’t have been there to say, ‘Who’s that walking on my bridge?’ The goat would have skipped safely over the bridge and played with his friends.

‘Once upon a time …’

‘Price,’ whispered Audrey. ‘What did you really see out the back?’

‘Not much. Just the same old things— vegetable patch, dunny, chookyard, the woodpile, goats … nothing else.’

But there
was
something else out there that Price didn’t mention.

Graves.

Four

The next morning Audrey sat outside on a kerosene tin, one leg crossed over the other, her chin resting on her hands.

Last night’s dust had been dampened down by a shower of rain. Dad’s weather-nose had been right. The rain had also smoothed out footprints and other marks in the dirt. Not that Audrey had expected any. The kind of visitor she’d seen last night would not leave footprints. But she’d looked around, just to be sure.

She stared at the two wooden crosses. Each one had writing on it. One said, ‘Esther—three days’ and the other, ‘Pearl— two years’.

Audrey was glad her sisters were close by.

She’d seen their baby clothes in the big chest in Mum’s bedroom. What would Pearl and Esther be like, if they’d lived? They were born before her, so they’d be older. Would they have told her what to do, or looked after her?

Maybe they would’ve seen Stumpy too. But no one could see unless they believed. Stumpy understood that, so he didn’t mind. He was pretty smart for a camel.

Esther was a name that made Audrey think of a pretty girl in a frilly dress, who had a high voice and liked games. And she’d say ‘Aud’ not Audrey, because she’d be the kind of girl who showed she liked you by mucking about with your name. Price would be ‘Pricey’. Audrey smiled to herself. Price would hate that. But Esther would use it anyway.

Pearl’s name was short. ‘No-nonsense,’ as old Mrs Paterson would say. Audrey imagined Pearl baking bread. The tops of the loaves would rise high over the tin. The bread would be crunchy on the outside, but soft and steaming inside. Pearl would be taller than anyone in the family, except Dad. Little girls wouldn’t be scared if Pearl was around.

Audrey heard a familiar sound behind her. Dad was clearing his throat. He did that when he was getting ready to say something important.

‘Two-Bob.’ Dad squatted down on his heels beside her. There were wrinkles around his eyes, and his beard was bushier than ever.

‘Good morning, Reginald.’

Dad raised one eyebrow. ‘Even your mother doesn’t call me
Reginald
. For however long this interest of yours in first names continues, Chip will suit me just fine.
Reginald
makes me think I’m in more trouble than a one-legged frog in a snake-pit. Besides, it’s an old man’s name.’

Audrey studied the deep lines around Dad’s eyes. He got the lines by squinting against the sun when he was out bush. Judging by the amount of wrinkles, he’d been squinting for a lot of years.

‘Did you make these crosses for the girls, Dad?’

He nodded.

The arms on the crosses were not quite straight. It wasn’t the first time Audrey wondered if her dad needed glasses.

She looked out across the saltbush and red sand to the line of trees where the scrub began. ‘Do you think people can come back from the other side?’

‘The other side of what?’

‘The other side of being alive.’

Dad cleared his throat again.

‘Do you think Pearl and Esther are alive somewhere, Dad? But different to us?’

‘I’m not sure, Audrey. But I miss them.’

‘Me too. I didn’t know them really, but they’re still my sisters, aren’t they? So that means I
do
know them even though I don’t. Sort of.’

Dad scratched at his beard.

‘If people
could
visit from that other place,’ said Audrey, ‘do you think Pearl and Esther would try to see us?’

‘If they could.’

‘Would you be scared?’

‘Of Pearl and Esther? Not on your life.’ Dad looked at her from under bushy eyebrows. ‘Why are you asking me these questions?’

‘I saw something out here last night and it was sort of white like an angel dress.’

‘You think an angel was out here?’

‘Maybe not. She’d get her dress dirty walking around in the bush. And if I was an angel with wings, I wouldn’t walk. I’d fly. Really fast.’

‘That’s a good point. Besides, if your sisters came back to visit, I reckon they’d go in the house. They wouldn’t stay out here by the chookyard.’

‘The chookyard smells, doesn’t it, Dad?’

‘When people dillydally with their chores and the manure piles up, yes it does.’

Audrey looked down at the ground. ‘People in this family do their chores. It just takes a while sometimes.’

‘
Mmm.
’

‘Will you tell me more about Pearl and Esther?’

‘Reckon I will,’ said Dad. ‘One day.’

Five

Audrey picked up a plate and began drying it with a cloth. Although the plate had a small chip in it, she was extra careful. This plate with the green bamboo pattern was her mum’s favourite.

She looked out the kitchen window. Dad was using a stick to beat dust from kangaroo-skin rugs that hung from the clothes line. Mum was talking as she pointed to the rugs. Audrey expected Mum liked to help, although Dad couldn’t miss with a stick that size.

Mum rubbed her tummy with one hand. She did that a lot lately. Maybe she was saying hello to the baby. Audrey wondered if the baby could feel it.

Douglas sat near the clothes line, playing in the dirt.

The kitchen door swung back against the wall with a bang. Price struggled in with both arms filled with wood for the sitting-room fire. His face was pink. As usual, he’d tried to shorten the number of trips by carrying too much. He couldn’t unload the logs without dropping some.

‘Want me to help you?’ asked Audrey.

‘Too right.’ Price’s voice sounded tight. He was concentrating hard on keeping the firewood in his arms.

Audrey put down the cloth and the plate and followed him into the sitting room.

Mum’s sewing box sat on her favourite armchair. She was fixing up one of Dad’s old shirts so Price could wear it. Price seemed to grow taller every day. Audrey wondered if his legs and arms creaked at night, like wood when the temperature changed.

Audrey looped her thick plaits together at the back of her neck, so they wouldn’t swing forward and get in the way.

One by one, she took the logs and began stacking them in a neat pile beside the fireplace. They weren’t too heavy, but she moved slowly. A few months back, she had dropped a piece of wood on her toe. She’d screamed so loudly that Price reckoned she popped his eardrums. Her toenail went black and came off. ‘Well your toe’s not so good,’ Dad had said at the time, ‘but there’s nothing wrong with your lungs.’

Audrey was glad she hadn’t screamed last night when she saw the white thing down near the well.

‘Price, do you reckon wells are as good as billabongs?’

‘Depends how deep the well is and how much water is in the billabong.’

‘Do you think a deep well is better than a dry billabong?’