Mum had told the Pommie to wash my bed sheets that morning at brekkie. Mine. Not Jonny’s. But she was so stupid – she’d stripped and washed them both! Not only that, she’d pulled everything out from under Jonny’s bed too. She’d taken all the books he’d slipped under there just before he switched the light off to go to sleep, and put them on the shelves with the others. She’d reorganised the plastic boxes of cars and games so the lids clicked shut. She’d even swept all his soldiers – the ones he’d painted – off the top of the night stand where he’d left them to dry. I dropped the plate I was carrying and it broke. The beef sandwich landed upside down and left a greasy skid mark on the floor. I hadn’t had chance to touch Jonny’s picture that morning. Things always went wrong if I didn’t touch it.
I ran back into the empty dining room and looked out of the glass doors. That’s when I realised the sheets outside covered in ball blood were ours. Both sets of sheets were fluttering on the line. They looked pale in the bright sunshine, the brown, bloody marks all over them from the ball fight made them look like injuries, or something. I pushed the doors open and felt the heat of the afternoon steal my breath. I ran straight out into the garden and grabbed at the sheets. I yanked them off the line, dragged them into the house. I could hear a tap running in the bathroom, so I went in there. That’s where the Pommie was, leaning over the sink, splashing water on her face. My face was burning and my chest felt tight, even when I breathed out. When the Pommie realised I was stood behind her, I started to shake. I had all sorts to say, but everything I needed to tell her felt feathery, flying round in my head. She’d ruined everything. She had no business touching Jonny’s things. No one was allowed to touch them. It all had to stay exactly where he’d left it. But when I opened my mouth, all I heard was, ‘You stupid cow, you washed Jonny’s sheets!’
She looked at me, with the water dripping off her chin and a look on her face like I’d got a kangaroo loose in the top paddock. That’s when I realised she didn’t even know who Jonny was; no one had bothered to tell her. So then I hated Mum and Dad for forgetting about him, as well as her for ruining our bedroom. I started to blub a bit and as I ran to my room, I hoped Jonny couldn’t see everything from heaven.
I dragged the sheets onto my bed and lay on top of them, face down. I breathed in the detergent smell and knew it had taken away the last trace of Jonny. I wanted to go to wherever he was.
When I heard a quiet knock at the door, I knew it would be the Pommie. No one else ever knocked. I ignored it at first. I didn’t want to see her ever again. But then she knocked a bit louder and I heard the door handle scrape round, so I said, ‘Rack off!’ but she came in anyway and sat down on Jonny’s bed. I said, ‘Get off Jonny’s bed, or I will get a stick and flog you.’ She stood up again and left.
I needed to get out of our room then. It didn’t feel right any more. It was like Jonny was shouting at me from every shelf, every corner, even from the curtains. The Pommie had tied them back to the wall; pretty, like strangers. I couldn’t work out if it was them or me that didn’t belong.
I pushed open the fly screen and ran down the steps into the yard. It was real quiet. The generator had gone off, it must have overheated. When Buzz saw me coming he shouted out – gave a fanfare. From that far away, he looked a bit like a brown cloud on stilts. I wished he was bigger, and that we were further on in our training, so I could just swing my leg over his hump and let him take me for miles across the desert.
He rubbed his neck against me. He must have had an itch, but he nearly knocked me over, he was so strong. He knew we were going for our walk and got a bit excited. I guess that calf pen meant the same to him, as the school room for me. I threw the rope around him and unhitched the gate. He was impatient, so I had to have a word with him. I pulled his face round to look at me, his eyes were big and lazy, like he didn’t want to hear it. I told him, ‘Buzz, I’m having a bad day, so don’t you start with me.’ He made a little growling noise and blew a saggy raspberry with his lips, making them wobble like rubber. Then he sort of head-butted me – not hard, just like he was playing. I batted him away and kept walking, but he did it again. I didn’t know whether to laugh at him or flog him. As we looked at each other, for no reason at all, I started to run with him by my side, all lanky and jerky, his hairy hump wobbled back and forth, while his neck stretched like Granddad’s accordion.
We’d gone a fair way when I had to stop and have a puff on my inhaler. He was jumpy, all fired up, ready for more. Once I’d caught my breath we started to run again, but this time, I dunno why, I let go of the rope. I suppose I wanted to see if I really could trust him.
As we jogged through the dirt with the sun on us, the spiky grass whipped our knees. The rope dangled like a pendulum at his side, just within my reach. He didn’t know I’d let go, so he kept to my rhythm and distance.
A few paces further and the penny dropped. When I leaped over a big bush, the rope slid off Buzz’s curly chest and for the first time it felt like he understood we were equals. He threw his head back into the sky. I felt sick and dry inside, knowing I had no control, but I kept on going. There was nothing between me, Buzz and the desert – just the hope that he’d be loyal to me.
As we ran, I tried not to crowd him. I didn’t want to push him away, but every now and then I’d look to see where he was. Once or twice I saw him doing the same. He was never more than a few yards away. I felt tired and sweaty from running around so I slowed down and started to walk. I didn’t know if he’d stop, or just keep running. My chest heaved in and out. I put my hands on my hips to rest them while I watched Buzz. Fear slid down into my stomach. He stood still for a while, wondering if I would play some more. Then, bored of waiting, he decided to graze on the scratchy grass.
I almost ran over to grab him and snatch him back, but I wanted us to have more than that. I let him eat for a good while. I just kneeled down in the dirt and enjoyed the space we had. Every now and then he’d look over, chewing spiky sticks of grass, which stuck out of his lips. I guess he was just making sure he could still see my hat. That made me realise that I wouldn’t need a rope; instead I’d just call him. Not like a dog, but more like a mate.
I got to my feet and turned my back to Buzz and whistled. He looked up, like I’d disturbed him. ‘Come on, Buzz, let’s go!’ I called, swinging my arm over my shoulder. I shut my eyes and pleaded for him to follow. I didn’t want to lose anything else today. I didn’t look back again. I figured that if I was Buzz, and he checked up on me like that, it’d be like an insult, or something. I shut my eyes and prayed as hard as I could that Buzz would follow me and not the desert.