The Keeper (8 page)

20

Zoe's done okay. She hasn't interfered once on the boat; even got excited when I landed the big red at the end. I didn't realise she could be like that. And now that the catches are weighed-in and I'm the winner of the snapper section, Zoe actually manages to look a part of it. Proud. That's it. She looks proud of me. It's a bit of a rush really. She even gets into the photo of Dev and me and the snapper for the
Sunday Mail
. And she keeps clicking her little camera as I go up to Mr Houser for the prize.

Weird, not once did I think of the prize – I just wanted to win. An echo sounder for the boat. Shawn Houser looks green – not sure if he's seasick or just plain jealous. Should see him eyeing off Dev too – even looks like he wants to be on my side for once. I'll let him sweat a bit first. The only thing that could make me any happier now is knowing if it'll all work out with Dev.

Zoe's still cool toward Dev at the end of the awards-giving. ‘Come home soon,' is all she says to me with a glance at Dev; she's not antagonistic like the other night. At least having her on the boat did something positive but she's still looking a little like she's leaving me with the lions at the zoo – it's just that they're behind the rails now. It rankles. Only Gran looks at me like that.

It's later that my world is totally annihilated. Armageddon, worldwide nuclear war – and it's not even Zoe or Gran who flicks the switch; it's Dev.

His bag's already packed and by the bike when I go down to the boatshed after the celebrations. How could he have packed that quick? Then it hits me. He must have started last night. Words, pictures, colours all swirling in my head. I can't sort it out. I stand there, watching Dev. He's walking out of the boatshed, putting his black jacket on. It's got creases all over it. Old. Never noticed before. It's really old.

‘I'm sorry it has to be like this, mate.' He's close now. He looks older too. ‘I didn't realise it would get so complicated . . .'

Somehow I have to clear my head.
Complicated
, he said. Yeah, somehow it got like that but it doesn't have to be. What about me? I try and make sense of what's inside. Dev says you should talk, take responsibility for what you feel. What if you don't know what you feel? I say the first thing that comes into my head.

‘I want you to stay.'

‘Mate, so do I want to.'

See? He wants to. Dare I start feeling a bit better? He wants to be with me, right? So why is he strapping on the bag?

‘But we had a great time today. Fishing. It was great, wasn't it?'

Dev nods.

‘And tomorrow's Gala Day.' We were going to offer rides on the bike. Have so much fun. I'm losing the thread. Why won't anyone listen to what I want? I want you, Dev . . . But how can I say that? How long before I'll sound like a whining kid? I can feel the burning in my throat starting, the sting behind my eyes. Dev's not going to listen, I can tell. He's a nice guy but when he makes his mind up – well, you've just got to pray it's what you wanted as well. What's the use? And I can't stop the whining, can't stop, can't stop – ‘You said you cared.'

Dev turns. ‘It's all true, mate. Everything I said. But it's best I go now.' He doesn't look too happy. Why is he doing it then? ‘Why?'

Dev doesn't answer. It always happens like this. No one tells me things or explains, always half-sentences, stuff I don't know, never finishing what's on their mind. Dev's putting his helmet on. I'm thinking of things to keep him here, to get him to explain. I have to know. Is it me? If he wants me he can stay. Can't he? Then I hit on it.

‘It's Zoe, isn't it?' Dev pauses a second. Bullseye!

‘Zoe's okay. Just give her a go.'

That cuts the wind out of my sails. Sure she was okay on the boat – but
Zoe okay?

‘Why should I? She's nothing to me.'

‘Nor am I.'
But you are, can't you see?

I've said it out loud. ‘You are.' Am I shouting? I can't tell – noises now, maybe they're in my head – yet I can still hear Dev.

‘Three weeks ago I wasn't.'

Waves in my head, no, it's horses, horses riding the waves, seagulls crying, the fish, the horses trampling the fish, washing on the rocks at Rogue's Point . . . three weeks? Is that all?

‘I can't stay.' Dev wants me to let it go. I know. It's brave to not make a fuss. I've always felt brave – with Mei, Shawn, Prescott, dares at school. But this is different. This is the first time I see the danger, feel the fear. But I'm not giving up.

‘You can so! Zoe will like you now. She saw how you were today.'

‘There's more to it, mate.'

‘Why are you doing this? It always happens. Everyone leaves. No one keeps their promises. They run away.' Dev's quiet as we both realise what I said. No one said any promises at all. They're only in my head.

‘I'm sorry it looks like that, mate. I'm not running away. It's for the best. Zoe—' Zoe's face flashes past the water and boats and horses. I push away the look on Zoe's face as Mr Houser announced the weight of my snapper. It comes back but I close my eyes so I can say what needs to be said. ‘She's an interfering cow.'

‘She came to speak to me last night—' My eyes are open again. Very wide. ‘Zoe and you?' When will everyone start remembering that this is
my
life? If I want a dad
I
can choose, can't I? Can't I? What's Zoe got to do with it?

‘It's not fair!'

Dev doesn't say all the stuff Gran would've, trying to explain, to placate. Maybe Dev agrees with me. Ha, that's it! But it doesn't help. I can't think of the words to keep Dev off the bike. I want him, but it's not only that, I need him too. School will start on Tuesday – that's one battlefield I don't want to face alone, not after imagining doing it with Dev. And just before Gala Day . . .

‘We would've had so much fun.' I can't fight any more. I can't win against Dev, I know that.

‘Yeah, mate. But I'm in the way.'
In the way?

‘How?' But Dev's got one hand on the handlebars. I never thought Dev would give up like this. Couldn't he hang around long enough for Zoe and Gran to see he's okay?

‘You're a great kid. Don't let anyone tell you different. Especially not yourself. You stick to a mate. You've got guts. You're a survivor—' Dev stops a second, but not before I hear the funny sound in his voice, before he finishes. ‘I wish you were mine.'

I could be, if only you'd stay
. But I can't say it now. Dev starts the engine; holds out his hand. And as I take it I'm pulled into a bear hug like the one at Rogue's Point.

‘Don't blame Mei, mate. She did the right thing. If I'd done that I mightn't have lost my wife and kid.'

I don't answer. If Dev hadn't lost his kid he wouldn't have come. He's about to go but I need to know something and I shout above the roar, ‘Will you come back?'

Dev nods. ‘Wild horses won't stop me, mate. When the time's right.' Then he revs the engine before I can say anything else. Perhaps he's trying to make it quicker, easier, but can't he hear my insides screaming? I can hear it in my head, see the colours too, red like I'm falling off the cliff, bumping on every rock until I lie torn up at the bottom listening to the gear changes on a Harley-Davidson roaring at the corner of the main road to Adelaide.

Gone.

I don't hear the voice behind me at first. Soft. Hesitant.

‘Joel?'

I swing round. Mei. It's not the right time to see Mei but how's she to know? ‘Get off!' The burning in my throat is surging up now, higher. It's making my eyes blur. My mouth wobbles and Dev's advice is forgotten. ‘You've ruined everything, you stupid, stupid—' I kick the ground, wishing it's Mei's face, Zoe's, everyone's in the whole world. ‘What a bloody stupid—'

Mei, silly Mei, comes closer but I run away from her as though she'll burn me. I head up the beach before I totally freak.

Mei

Joel looked a mess last night. I was so sorry but he wouldn't listen. Now he's gone. He didn't go home. His gran's beside herself. So is Zoe, funnily enough. It must be true then, what they say about her. Now everyone's saying that Dev Eagle took Joel with him. Even Zoe's thinking that. But I saw Dev go. Joel ran off up the beach. The police think Dev could have come back to get him, or maybe they don't take me seriously. I think Joel's holed up somewhere. It's just what he'd do – to lick his wounds.

It's even on the news this morning: missing boy and Dev Eagle wanted for questioning. On top of that is the picture in the
Sunday Mail of the three of them so happy after the competition. How could everything turn out so bad for Joel? This is the worst thing yet that's happened to him. Was Dev no good after all? Is that why he went? Wouldn't he have stayed if he liked Joel so much, like Joel thought? Or was it too much having Zoe and Mrs Billings not trust him? Mr Houser said Zoe even went on the boat in the competition to make sure everything was okay. I suppose that would get to a guy like Dev even if he was on the level.

21

Sput! Sput!
I wake to the sound of the chopper taking people for joy rides. Jumping dolphins, what time is it? I crawl out between the boobialla shrubs hiding the large space that Mei and I used to spend time in last holidays. Seems so long ago now. It's the next place I was going to take Dev – the cave above Rogue's Point. I didn't get a chance the night Dev fell in. Getting him warm and changed had seemed the only thing to do. No point thinking about it now, but it keeps rushing back in – the feeling I got when Dev hugged me after I helped pull him out of the water. Two hugs I've had now. Wonder if Shawn's had that many from his dad? Dev's eyes crinkling as his grin slips into my head, his wink as he says ‘mate' and he knows what I'll say next. Even on the boat yesterday, with Zoe present, there was this feeling, so hard to explain. Like Dev knew me through and through and would stick by me anyway . . . so why didn't he? Oh hell. I can't care. If I care, I'll start snivelling like a little kid.

The sun's high already. I'd better get on with it. I was supposed to wake early and get back inside before Gran noticed. No hope of that now, not with Gala Day in full swing. Gran would be down at the museum, showing people through, telling them about the old days of salt mining and shipwrecks. She shouldn't be too worried apart from all the fussing she does. She knows I'll come home sooner or later. I head for the main street. A band's playing – country and western. Sounds like the same one as last year, playing on the back of a truck while everyone line-dances down the street.

Hey! There's Zoe, helping serve drinks by the tearooms. Maybe I should tell
her
I'm okay. Deal with Gran later. I stand still and consider it.
Give her a go
, Dev had said. Why should I? She's nothing but trouble. Though she does seem to be a permanent fixture at the house now. Suppose she is a bit like a big sister, just like Dev said. Maybe I'll do it – for Dev.

The rev of a motorbike sounds close by and I jump. But it isn't Dev. Lots of bikes come in on Gala Day, giving people rides. There are the camels again, kids screaming from the fun of everything, balloons, stalls. Just the whole world happy – how come it happens like this? For every happy gathering there must always be someone unhappy. I've never thought of it like that before. Look at me now, with those people happy when my whole world's caved in; just lost my only hope of having a dad.

I'm still standing here, making up my mind, smelling the warm dung of the camels, hearing the yelps of the dogs in the sheepdog trials. To the museum? See Gran first? Or would Zoe soften the blow? Gran would fuss for sure. I scan the street. Zoe's not at the tearooms any more. Prescott's mum is there now. Suddenly I see Zoe – she's by the Fish Watch van. Someone's beside her. No,
with
her. A man. With a shaved head. They're watching the sheepdog trials but the man's talking to her. I have a good squiz. Zoe's not watching the trials at all. Everyone else is but. She looks weird, like she's not too pleased.

It's all I need. Don't have to think any more. I bound past the camels, push right through groups of people in my way. I keep my eye on the trials. People are still watching, cheering as the loudspeaker gives a commentary, but Zoe isn't there when I skid up to the fence. Nor is Skinhead. I turn round once, checking, twice. There. There they are, down the street. A movement. Closer to the beach.

‘Hey!' I call out then. Don't care what people think. ‘Hey! What's going on?' But there's too much noise from the loudspeaker, kids squealing, so only those people close to me hear. They're none too pleased and move out of my way, frowning, making comments. Zoe and Skinhead aren't far away. I push past the makeshift sheep pens, run, bump into someone, run some more and suddenly I'm face to face with Zoe and the guy.

Zoe doesn't even say ‘Hi' or explain. ‘Get going!' she hisses, not loud. She looks odd somehow. ‘Find Gran. Tell her—' But before she finishes Skinhead squeezes her arm. He's looking at me as he does it. It makes me feel like it's intended for me. He smiles but it's not the sort of smile you send back; it's more like the top lip of a tiger lifting in a snarl.

‘So this is my meal ticket, eh?'

Both Zoe and I start to speak: Zoe telling him to shut up and me asking who he is.

He ignores Zoe. ‘Didn't your mother tell you?'

‘Shut up.' Zoe again.

I don't understand.
Mother?
Who's my mother? This guy's got me mixed up with someone else. All I can see is that Zoe's scared and she doesn't like Skinhead's hand locked on her arm.

‘This is happening quicker than I even hoped it would. Soon as I saw my sweet Zoe in the paper this morning, I knew I had to come and say hello.'

‘Leave him out of it. Go on, Joel. Get going.' But it's too late on two accounts. One, I can't leave, not with Zoe looking like that. I've seen her in almost every mood but never scared. Second, the guy's got hold of my shoulder. I'm not sure what to do – if Zoe wasn't there I'd kick him or worse but there's something weird about this, the guy's acting like I know him and I don't.

‘No need to run off. Why not spend some time together – like a regular happy family?' The hold on my shoulder tightens and I suddenly know I'm in the hands of someone very strong even if not so tall. It's too late to decide to fight. Funny, a month ago I mightn't have hesitated. Dev would say there was usually another way. Well what now? How would Dev get out of this one? This guy doesn't look like the type to understand all the head stuff Dev told me.

‘Don't do anything stupid.' It's Zoe warning me this time, but for a different reason. Her eyes are telling me to get away, but she's shaking her head. No way. I won't leave her. Skinhead gives us both a push. All of a sudden his tone changes. ‘Stop talking crap and move it.' He pushes us down to the beach. Why doesn't anyone notice? They're all too happy and busy. My insides drop to my knees when I see how deserted it is by the water. Everyone's up at the street, watching the trials. Visitors will come down to the old jetty and take rides in the locals' boats but that won't be until later. Further over I can see the main jetty – Mei's dad's trawler is docked there for sightseers to walk over. Even if I waved no one would know we were in trouble. Only Mei would possibly catch on. She'd know I don't normally wave like a jerk. Mei. Maybe I've been too harsh. If Dev had turned out like this guy I'd be glad to be dobbed on.

‘Now, the old man had a boat?'

Zoe's making a spluttering sound like an outboard running out of petrol. ‘What are you thinking of? It won't go over the gulf?' She's in a bad way – talking fast and lapsing into question marks at the end of
everything
.

‘Relax, babe. Just going down the coast a bit. The police are swarming—' Suddenly Skinhead stops talking and pulls us towards a boat bumping gently against a jetty pole. We're close to the boatshed now. Dev's boatshed. I try not to think about it. ‘This one'll do.' The boat is Mr Houser's Shark Cat. The biggest one there. Twenty footer. Zoe's not watching her mouth. ‘Trust you to pick the best.'

The man smiles his tiger smile. ‘Always.' There's a threat lying between the syllables as though the guy can afford to be pleasant at the moment, but if things go wrong . . . If I were Zoe I'd be more careful. And watch for a while . . . Like I'm going to do . . .

This is it! At that very moment I hear a sound from inside the hull, and I move. Call it sixth sense but at the same time, Shawn Houser suddenly rears from the boat. He's been left to look after it. You beauty, Shawn.

Skinhead sees Shawn, drops his hold on both me and Zoe and goes for his belt. But I'm quicker. He wasn't expecting me, you see. This was what Dev meant; surely this is the time I can use some of the stuff Dev taught me that day at the crossroads. This isn't only self-defence – there's Zoe to think of, and now Shawn. Streetwise, Dev had said. Oomph! My foot flies out. My arm round Skinhead's neck from the back. It really works, someone smaller can immobilise (Dev's word) a larger opponent. Shawn adds his bit and gives a few kicks where it hurts . . .

In a few moments the guy's sprawled out hugging the sand. I grin as I realise the full significance of Shawn on my side for the first time, both happy we've won. Zoe's the first to start thinking. ‘He won't be out long.'

I turn to Shawn, ‘You go and get the cops. He won't chase you when it's Zoe he wants.'

‘What about the boat? I'm meant to stay . . .'

‘Take the key.'

Zoe breaks in; she sounds weary, like we haven't won at all. ‘He won't take the boat now. It's not me he wants.' She watches Shawn run off. ‘Could we try for the jetty? There's people there?'

But I know we won't get over the sand and rocks in time even if the guy is out for five minutes.

‘C'mon, Zoe. I know a place.' And I lead her the opposite way, round the headland to Rogue's Point.