KUKA PLANA

There was a certain kind of Fairfolk guy Jesse Camilleri had always assumed he was better than: the kind who hung out at the airport in high season, trawling for fresh meat. Until the day he was waiting for his sister to disembark her flight from Brisbane and saw Bunny White stepping onto the tarmac, looking fresher than milk-fed veal.

‘Whew! New mainie in town,’ whistled Grandy Greatorex, who had a wife and three kids at home — not that that ever stopped him.

‘Sweet legs,’ echoed Kristian King. ‘How long you bet till I’m between ’em?’

Jesse wouldn’t have recognised her either, looking like a mainie in that bejewelled T-shirt, white denim skirt. Wouldn’t have given her a second glance, if it wasn’t for her flying into the arms of the same man he’d fantasised, many times, about beating to a pulp.

‘That’s nay mainie, brudda,’ Jesse said. ‘That’s Rabbit’s kid.’

They were all quiet for a moment, watching Bunny’s skirt inch up her thighs as she hugged her dad; tightening around her sweet little arse as she kissed Rita.

‘She’s grown,’ Kristian marvelled. ‘Reckon she’s been broken in yet?’

Jesse spotted his sister, Janey, descending the staircase with her two little girls. He finished his beer and took another look at Bunny.

‘This one’s mine,’ he told the guys.

‘Saw that TV program,’ Janey told him, eating a late dinner of spaghetti and meatballs after putting the girls to bed. ‘About your girlfriend.’

Jesse dabbed sauce from his lips. ‘She wasn’t my girlfriend.’

‘Jus’ friends,’ their dad, Joe, backed him up with a wink.

‘You looked like more than friends when I walked in on you two dry-humping on New Year’s Eve.’

‘Everyone hooks up on New Year’s.’ Jesse flushed. ‘And that was two years ago. Can you leave it alone?’

‘Leave it alone, Janey.’ Joe flicked him a pitying look. ‘It was what it was.’

Janey forked a meatball and sucked off the sauce.

‘Why do you have to eat them like that?’ Jesse cringed. ‘It’s verly gross, eh.’

Janey got an evil glint in her eye, kept doing it. Then she stopped and said, ‘If you were just friends, why are you still single?’

‘Jesus-fuck.’ Jesse put down his fork. ‘Why do you have to know everything?’

‘She deserved better, eh.’ Janey frowned. ‘After that ex-boyfriend. What was his problem? Slagging off a dead girl on national TV.’

Jesse shrugged. ‘She cheated on him.’

‘Probably had a good reason. Seemed like a controlling little prick.’ Janey sighed. ‘Her poor mother. All alone. I can’t imagine.’

Jesse shovelled more spaghetti into his mouth. Her poor mother didn’t cut it. Didn’t come close to what he’d felt, seeing Judy Novak’s tear-streaked face on TV.

A woman to kill for. That was the feeling.

Janey read his mind. ‘Still think it was Rabbit?’

‘Aye.’ Jesse met her gaze. ‘He was obsessed with her.’

‘Could say the same about you.’

A few days later, Rita came into Camilleri’s to pester him about her Christmas ham. She brought Bunny with her.

‘Sorry, Rita,’ Jesse apologised. ‘Seven kilo’s the biggest we’ve got.’

Bunny was wearing board shorts, a white T-shirt that showed a pale strip of tummy. The way she stood — slouched, one arm across her body to clutch the other — reminded him of Janey at a certain age; old enough to get stared at by men, young enough to have a Care Bears collection.

‘We’ve got forty guests to feed!’ Rita griped.

Jesse shrugged. ‘Maybe you bes’ butcher your own hog.’

As Rita sighed and scrabbled for her wallet, Jesse cast another glance at Bunny. She caught it; smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Like shooting fish in a barrel, he thought, and told himself he wasn’t that kind of guy. But on Christmas morning he happened to drive past St Bartholomew’s, and there was Bunny on the church steps, and, more importantly, there was Rabbit: bald spot gleaming in the morning sun, grinning like a bastard who’d gotten away with it.

Next time he saw Bunny was after New Year’s, when he came into Foodfolk on his morning break to buy a choc-milk. She was working the check-out.

‘Yorana.’ Bunny smiled at him. A real smile, not a customer service smile. ‘You good?’

‘Aye.’ Jesse’s eyes wandered down to her name tag: Elena. ‘You back on the rock all summer?’

‘Till school starts.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Boarding school.’

‘Brisbane?’

‘Outside Brisbane. Toowoomba.’

‘Full of racists?’

Bunny laughed, shrugged.

‘I did a year of fine arts. The mainland’s full of racists, eh.’

‘Nobody believes I’ve got Polynesian blood.’ Bunny smiled. ‘They say I’m too white.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Jesse glanced at the pale skin inside her wrist. ‘You are.’

Bunny laughed again.

He nodded at the cigarette display. ‘Some smokes, too.’

Her smile twitched. ‘Camels?’

‘Aye.’ Jesse leaned on the counter. ‘You know me.’

Bunny scurried off for his ciggies. Scanned them with lowered eyes.

‘Saw you at the airport,’ Jesse ventured. ‘Almost didn’t recognise you.’

She gave him a million-watt smile. ‘I got my braces off.’

‘That must be it.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You gonna be down at the beach this summer? Getting some colour?’

Bunny rolled her eyes again. ‘Rita’s making me work, like, every day.’

‘After work?’ He leaned closer. ‘Sunset?’

Bunny shrugged, blushed harder.

‘Fish and chips at the beach, sunset?’

He picked her up at six, around the corner from Foodfolk; drove two minutes up the road to the Great-O White Shark Grill. She stank of some kind of vanilla body-spray, had glossed her lips and swapped her uniform shirt for a camisole. He hadn’t changed.

‘You coming in?’ he asked her outside Great-O’s. ‘Or too embarrassed?’

He indicated his stained shirt, stubble.

‘I’m nay embarrassed.’ Her cheeks pinkened. ‘You look good.’

Grandy Greatorex was behind the counter. Jesse ignored his winks and thumbs-up. On the way out, though, he smirked at Grandy and clutched the small of Bunny’s back.

He parked at Piney’s Point, where the sky was doing wild things in pink and orange.

‘Check it out,’ he told Bunny, spreading a towel on the grass.

The sky turned indigo as they ate their fish and chips. He asked Bunny questions about school, what she planned to do after, but didn’t bother listening to her answers.

When it was pitch-black, he disappeared to the car just long enough to make her nervous; returned with a joint. She coughed as soon as she inhaled.

‘Never smoked funny pine before?’

‘Nay.’

Circling an arm around her shoulders, he showed her how. Soon, she was giggling.

‘It tingles.’ She clasped her head. ‘Wow.’

He asked if he could kiss her.

He’d forgotten how good kissing could be — just kissing a girl, for minutes at a time. Laying Bunny down on the towel, he knew she’d let him do anything he wanted.

‘I bes’ take you home.’ He touched her hair. ‘Before your dad takes my gools.’

‘Aye.’ Bunny sighed. ‘Bes’.’

He dropped her off at Cookies.

Three days later, he invited her over to play video games, and made her come three times.

‘You never had your pua licked before?’ he asked, kissing his way up from her crotch to her frantic heart.

Bunny giggled, shook her head.

He kissed her mouth, stroked the curly hairs down there. ‘You should shave your notties for next time. Easy access.’

Blushing, Bunny mumbled, ‘Okay.’

At work the next day, Joe said, ‘Saw you had a girl over.’

Jesse shrugged. ‘So?’

‘She got a name?’

‘Elena White.’ Jesse watched his dad’s face. ‘Rabbit’s girl.’

‘How old’s she now?’

‘Old enough.’

‘You sure about that?’

He tried to be gentle, but even so, Bunny bled. A lot.

‘Sorry,’ she kept apologising, even after she’d dressed. ‘Sorry about your sheets.’

‘It’s fine. Jesus.’

On the drive home, she was so quiet, he felt obliged to make her laugh. ‘Remember when they had to replace the street sign?’ he asked at Missionary Road. ‘Cos of the graffiti?’

Bunny shook her head.

He felt bad all over again. ‘I guess you’re too young to remember, eh.’

Bunny shrugged, smiled. ‘What was the graffiti?’

‘Someone wrote “position” under “Missionary”.’

‘That’s funny,’ Bunny said, but didn’t laugh.

Jesse avoided her for the rest of the week. But on his day off, Janey saddled him with his nieces, and they wanted lollies and chips.

‘Yorana!’ Bunny beamed at the girls, then him. ‘Are you babysitting?’

‘What does it look like.’ Jesse placed the junk food on the conveyor belt.

Blushing, Bunny looked at the girls. ‘They’re verly cute, eh.’

‘Some smokes, too.’

While Bunny was fetching his Camels, he checked out her arse. But the moment she turned to face him, he pretended she was invisible.

‘Is their dad … ?’ Her eyes drifted curiously to the girls’ dark skin.

‘What, Aboriginal?’ He intercepted her gaze. ‘You can say it.’

‘Sorry.’ She lowered her eyes, scanned his items. ‘I was just wondering.’

‘He’s in the slammer, too. In case you’re wondering.’

Bunny looked at him uncertainly. ‘Verly?’

‘Verly.’ He took out his wallet. ‘Sixteen years. Unpaid parking ticket.’

‘Verly?’

‘Nay. Aggravated assault.’ He counted out the cash. ‘Cop came over to hassle him about this ticket, started fucking shit up near Cleo’s crib, “looking for drugs”.’

Bunny bagged his shopping. ‘Sorry, Jess.’

‘What for? My sheets?’

Her blush deepened. ‘That, too.’

‘Should’ve bought some stain-remover, eh.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Come over tonight. Make it up to me.’

Walking to the fridge in his jocks, Jesse asked, ‘Want a beer?’

Bunny hugged her naked legs. ‘I’m underage.’

‘You’re old enough for that.’ He nodded at their clothes on the floor. ‘You can have a beer.’

Bunny laughed meekly. ‘Okay, then.’

After her first sip, though, she cringed. ‘I bes’ be careful. Mum was an alcoholic.’

‘Yeah?’ He slouched down beside her on the couch. ‘Your dad has a type, eh.’

‘I guess so.’

Jesse put his arm around her shoulders. ‘You won’t get addicted. Alcoholics drink cos they have other problems.’

‘Paulina … ?’

He’d been waiting for her to mention Paulina’s name. Even so, his chest tightened.

‘Aye. She had problems.’

Bunny took another sip of beer. ‘She was loony.’

‘Aye.’

She traced the camel tattoo on his arm. ‘Was she your girlfriend?’

‘Who told you that? Rita?’

Bunny shrugged. ‘Everyone says it.’

‘She wasn’t my girlfriend.’ Jesse watched Bunny’s face flush with relief. ‘She sucked my dick one time. When she was still with your dad.’

Bunny winced. ‘Oh.’

He drank, let her sit with that for a while.

‘Just once?’ Bunny piped up, eventually.

‘Just once. Best blow-job of my life.’

His next day off, he got her to chuck a sickie. She answered the door in her PJs, black-and-white cat twining around her ankles.

‘Jesus.’ Jesse gaped, stepping into the hallway. ‘This place is a palace.’

‘Aye.’ Bunny picked up the cat. ‘Say hello, Anastasia!’

‘Jesus.’ Jesse absently scratched the cat behind her ears. ‘You inheriting all this when your old man dies?’

‘Maybe.’ Bunny smooched the cat, set her down. ‘Where’d you park?’

‘Why? Embarrassed?’

‘Nay. Jus’, if Dad finds out—’

Jesse pushed his tongue into her mouth. ‘I won’t let that happen, eh.’

He fucked her in her bedroom under Anastasia’s impassive gaze. After, he wandered around, looking at the photos on her shelf. ‘That your mum?’

‘Aye.’

‘Looks like you. How long since you saw her?’

‘Twelve years. I nay remember her, verly.’ Bunny turned onto her side, looking like a grown woman with the sheets draped around her naked curves. ‘How long since yours … ?’

“She died when I was three. Bad heart.’

‘Sorry, eh.’ Bunny’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. ‘You remember her?’

‘She wore big earrings, sometimes.’ Jesse put the photo down. ‘I remember her screaming at me for pulling on her earring.’

‘I remember my mum screaming in Russian.’

‘Your dad ever scream?’

‘Nay. He just goes quiet when he’s angry.’

‘He gets angry?’

Bunny looked away. ‘Nay with me.’

‘With Rita?’

‘Nay.’

‘Paulina?’

‘… Nay.’

‘Verly?’ Jesse raised his eyebrows. ‘She could be pretty annoying, eh.’

‘Aye.’ Bunny bit her lip. ‘Mean, too. Always called me fat.’

‘You’re nay fat. Your body’s perfect.’

‘So’s yours.’ She gazed at him adoringly. ‘I could look at you all day.’

He took up a photo of her at an archery competition.

‘I was fat, then,’ Bunny admitted. ‘I was so lame when I was a kid.’

Jesse put the photo down. ‘You’re still a kid.’

Then he found his Camels, stuck one between his lips.

‘Bes’ you don’t smoke in here, eh,’ Bunny fretted. ‘Dad’ll kill me if he smells it.’

‘Like he killed Paulina?’

Bunny’s face froze in a tight, nervous grimace. ‘That’s funny.’

‘I’m nay laughing.’

Jesse took his Camels out of the room; roamed around till he found a bigger bedroom, with windows that looked over Cookies.

He opened the window, smoked and stared out at the glistening green hills.

Finishing his ciggie, he flicked the butt on the floor. Nipped to the bathroom and took a steaming piss, left the toilet seat aloft. He didn’t flush.

‘Jess?’ Bunny found him in the hall. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

She’d put her pyjama shirt back on, but not her shorts. Seeing her bare legs and fraught face, his cock immediately stirred.

‘Nay.’ He pulled her into the room. ‘You’re perfect.’

‘Rita knows,’ Bunny called him in tears the next night. ‘She says I bes’ lyme you or she’ll tell Dad!’

‘Lyme me, then,’ Jesse said, and hung up.

The phone rang on and on; he didn’t answer. He was drawing with his headphones on when she showed up at his front door, face messy and wet.

‘What the fuck.’ He let her in. ‘How’d you get here?’

She fell into his arms, sobbing. ‘Are we broken up?’

‘Jesus.’ Jesse extricated himself. ‘Calm down.’

As he fetched her a beer, she bawled into the couch cushions. ‘Please don’t make me lyme you, Jess! Please — I love you!’

She’d never said that before.

‘Okay, okay.’ Jesse passed her the beer. ‘You don’t have to lyme me, okay?’

She drank greedily and said it again. ‘I love you, Jess.’

‘Yeah. Okay.’

He kissed her, to shut her up.

‘I love you.’ Bunny reached for his crotch. ‘Can I sleep over?’

Jesse stayed her hands. ‘I’m out of condoms.’

‘I don’t mind.’ She nuzzled him. ‘You don’t have to use one.’

‘You think I wanna get a teenager pregnant?’ Jesse pushed her away.

She started crying again. Jesse put his headphones back on, went back to his drawing.

After a while, thankfully, she shut up and drank her beer. Jesse snuck a glance at her damp eyelashes, rosy lips. Took off his headphones.

‘Can I see your drawings?’ Bunny asked meekly.

‘Aye.’

She crawled over to him, looked through the sketchpad. ‘You’re verly talented, eh.’

Jesse shrugged.

‘Are they tattoo designs?’

‘Could be.’

She leaned against his shoulder. ‘I love your tattoos.’

‘Want one?’

‘Dad’ll kill me.’

‘Not if he never sees it.’ Jesse put his hand inside her shirt, tickled the small of her back.

‘That’s slutty!’

‘It’s sexy, eh.’ Jesse kept stroking. ‘Howabout my initials? “J.C.”. You can tell Rita it stands for ‘Jesus Christ’.’

‘Nay!’

‘Nay?’ Smiling, Jesse turned a new page of his sketchpad. ‘Custom design, then.’

‘How’s Elena?’ Jesse asked when Rita came into Camilleri’s to order a bunch of meat for Rabbit’s sixtieth birthday barbecue that weekend.

Rita glowered. ‘You should be in jail.’

‘You’ve got me confused with your husband. Told him yet?’

She handed over her card. ‘I’m nay giving you the satisfaction.’

Jesse swiped it. ‘I’m getting plenty of satisfaction, eh.’

When he got home that evening, Bunny was in the yard between his cottage and the main house, hula-hooping with his nieces. ‘Yorana!’ She smiled at him, swirling her hips.

Jesse stalked inside, slamming the door.

‘Sorry.’ Bunny’s cheeks were pink from exercise, when she followed him in. ‘They wanted me to teach them.’

‘I don’t want you teaching my nieces that shit.’

‘Sorry. Want a beer?’

‘What do you think.’

As Bunny scurried to the fridge, he turned on the PlayStation, sprawled on the couch. She returned with a can of Pine Brew, sat at his feet and watched the screen intently as the anti-piracy messages flashed across it in English, Spanish, Russian.

‘It’s not a movie,’ Jesse grumbled.

Bunny squeaked a laugh. ‘I like seeing all the languages. Want your bong?’

‘What do you think.’

She got up again, prepared his bong. Even after inhaling, though, he still felt a skin-crawling irritation, seeing her fidgeting at his feet, scratching the bunny on her back.

‘Stop itching. Jesus.’

‘Sorry.’ She stopped itching. ‘It’s hard to rub the cream in without help.’

‘Bes’ get Grandy to help you, then.’

‘Grandy?’ Bunny laughed incredulously. ‘Why Grandy?’

‘You think I didn’t notice you flirting with him at Great-O’s the other day?’

‘Jess! I was just asking for extra tartare sauce, like you told me to.’ Her eyes watered. ‘I would never flirt with another guy. I love you.’

‘Yeah?’ He drank. ‘Feeling’s nay mutual, eh.’

‘Jess. Why—’

‘Good question. Why’re you here? You think I wanna fuck a dumb kid every night?’

Tears streamed down her face. ‘You’re verly mean today, Jess!’

‘Take a hint, then.’ He jerked his head at the door. ‘Get lost. You’re lymed.’

Bunny gaped at him, lip quivering. Then something broke inside her.

‘Kuka plana!’ she screamed, unplugging his controller and flinging it at the wall.

She’d never reminded him of Paulina until that moment.

‘Any talent?’ Jesse joined the guys for a beer after ditching Janey and the girls in the waiting lounge.

Grandy snorted. ‘Yeah. Your sister.’

When Bunny arrived with her dad and Rita, she looked straight at him from across the terminal and looked ready to cry again. The guys hooted with laughter.

‘What’d you do to her?’ Kristian questioned him.

‘Lymed her.’ Jesse shrugged. ‘Young vinis get too attached.’

‘Should’ve told me, eh. I’d go sloppy seconds.’

‘You break her in?’ Grandy asked.

‘Aye. She ruined my sheets.’

That got a big laugh. Then they all watched Bunny approach the check-in counter.

‘Sweet arse.’ Kristian whistled. ‘You break her arse?’

‘Better.’ Jesse rubbed his tattooed arm. ‘I branded her.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘Tramp stamp. Cute little bunny rabbit.’

The guys sniggered so loud, Bunny flinched. Rita shot them a look. Rabbit’s grip was tight on Bunny’s suitcase.

‘You don’t have the gools, Camilleri.’

‘You think I’m scared of her old man? I did her in his bed one time. She loved it.’

Bunny looked at him, eyes brimming.

‘She’s looking, brudda.’ Kristian laughed. ‘Must’ve verly given her a taste for it, eh.’

‘Aye. She likes the taste.’ Jesse sipped his beer. ‘Young vinis, though. Nay technique.’

They cracked up, louder than ever. Crumpling, Bunny fled to the bathroom.

Rabbit’s face drained of colour.

‘You’ve done it now, brudda.’ Grandy nudged him. ‘Daddy’s on the warpath.’

Rita grabbed Rabbit’s arm, held him back. Jesse drained his glass, stood up — only to double over in pain.

‘What the hell’s wrong with you?’ Janey twisted his earlobe. ‘She’s a kid!’

‘Jesus, Janey!’ He winced. ‘Cut it out!’

Dragging him to the waiting lounge, Janey hissed, ‘You’re lucky it’s jus’ your ear.’

Before Jesse could say anything to defend himself, she’d dumped him in the waiting lounge with his nieces and gone after Bunny.

‘Sorry,’ Jesse stammered as the girls stared at him wide-eyed. ‘Let’s go see the plane, eh?’

It seemed like a long time before Janey and Bunny emerged from the bathroom. Even longer, keeping his distance from Rabbit as they waited for boarding time.

‘Sorry,’ he repeated to his sister. ‘I’m verly sorry. I’m a fuckwit.’

Janey gave him the silent treatment till the plane was ready. When he kissed her goodbye, her cheek was stiff.

‘You think Mum would be proud of you? Eh?’

‘Nay,’ Jesse mumbled, shamefaced.

‘It’s not that girl’s fault your girlfriend’s dead.’

‘Nay.’

‘Kiss your nieces goodbye.’

Jesse did what she said.

He stuck around on the tarmac for take-off. So did Rabbit. White-knuckled, they pretended not to see each other until the plane was in the air. After, though, Rabbit walked right up to him.

‘Camel.’

‘Yorana, Rabbit.’ Jesse’s heart quickened. ‘You good?’

Rabbit nodded. His lips were pale. His eyes. His whole face. So pale he looked half-dead. He’d just turned sixty. Old.

Dutifully, Rabbit punched him in the face.

Jesse punched him too, naturally. It was what he wanted, more than he’d ever wanted Bunny; he wanted that old man’s blood on his hands. For a few ringing seconds, he was sure he’d beat him to death, or be beaten dead — it didn’t really matter what. But the moment passed, and airport security broke it up.

It was the talk of the island for maybe a month: the two leading suspects in Paulina’s murder, brawling on the tarmac. But by late March, nobody was talking about it anymore.

They were all talking about the white Camry that’d been towed from the vacant block near Fergal’s Farm.