29

jesse

‘We should have stormed the embassy,’ says a voice from behind me.

I’m standing at the end of the track, looking at the ‘Thought for the Day’. It reads:

Help others, before yourself.

Hunter steps forward and reads the sign. He spits beside his feet. ‘We should have smashed a few windows,’ he says. ‘It would have made the news and everyone would know about what they do to whales.’

‘Maybe if they read our leaflet, they’ll understand,’ I suggest.

‘Ha!’

I don’t know how to answer that, so I shuffle my feet and try not to think of the leaflets piling up in the rubbish bin outside the embassy. Hunter and I stand together, not speaking. A storm bird starts calling from the swamp gum beside Edith. A dark cloud lurks over the trees. It’s going to rain before the bell goes for the start of class.

‘Ha!’ says Hunter again, before walking away.

The first drop lands at my feet, kicking up the dirt. I start walking toward Doris. The rain begins pelting down. Hunter stops walking and looks up at the clouds. I rush past him and reach the verandah of Doris where a few parents are sheltering.

Hunter stands in the courtyard, rain splashing on his forehead. His eyes are closed, his mouth open, drinking the rainwater. I look at the two parents beside me, hoping they’ll call out to Hunter. One mother buttons up her jacket, while the other explains that her son, Willow, shouldn’t be forced to partner just any child during sports afternoon.

Hunter drops his bag at his feet and shakes the rainwater from his stubbly hair. Suddenly a huge clap of thunder bursts from the sky and both parents beside me jump.

‘What’s that boy doing?’ one mother asks.

‘Someone should tell him to move,’ the other replies.

Then they go back to talking about Willow.

I unstrap the bag from my back and toss it next to the front door of Doris.

‘Hunter,’ I call.

He doesn’t answer, just leans his head back further to catch more raindrops. Lots of students are arriving at school now, their parents escorting them past Hunter. Everyone is carrying an umbrella. A man holding the hand of his young daughter stops beside Hunter and says, ‘You better get out of the rain, buddy’. Hunter ignores him and the daughter leads her father to Edith.

The clouds rumble and in the distance, lightning graffitis the sky. Water rushes down the track. The noise on the tin roof of Doris makes it hard for me to hear what the parents are saying anymore. Probably still talking about Willow.

I can’t stand it any longer. I rush out into the storm yelling, ‘Hunter!’

He ignores me, his eyes still closed, his face pointing upward. Rainwater trickles down my back, making me shiver. I reach out a hand and grab Hunter’s arm. ‘Come on, Hunter,’ I say. He opens his eyes as if awakening from a dream.

‘The storm!’ I shout.

‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘it’s great, isn’t it?’ He looks at my hand locked around his arm. ‘Are you scared?’ he says.

The thunder rumbles again, getting closer.

‘It’s just water,’ adds Hunter.

The thunder claps overhead in a mighty burst. I dig my fingers into Hunter’s arm.

‘Hey!’ he cries out.

I let go of his arm.

‘It’s only thunder,’ he says.

My hair and clothes are soaked. I can feel my teeth shaking with the cold.

Hunter says, ‘Were you born scared?’

‘Were you born stupid,’ I answer, without thinking.

I’m expecting Hunter to jump on me and start punching, but all he does is smile.

‘Ha! Good answer, Bleakboy.’ He looks up to the sky. ‘It’s like having a shower outdoors!’

I can feel the water sloshing into my Volleys. It’ll be hours before I’m dry. Sarah will call Mum and ask her to bring a change of clothes to school. Mum will miss her yoga class.

‘You two boys, out of the rain now!’ yells Larry, standing under Doris’s verandah.

I turn back to Doris. Hunter doesn’t move.

‘What’s with you, Hunter?’ I ask.

‘Ha!’ he says.

‘That’s not an answer,’ I shout. ‘You’re just—’ I bite my tongue, afraid of saying something I’ll regret.

‘What, Rainman?’

‘You’re just trying to act tough because you’re weak!’ I swallow hard. The rain drips into my eyes and I rub it away.

‘What did you say?’ Hunter’s voice is quiet.

If I repeat it, he’ll jump on me.

The music sounds for the start of class. It’s an old disco song, a woman singing, ‘I can’t stand the rain’, over and over. I can’t help but laugh.

Hunter opens his mouth to catch the raindrops again. He looks up once more to the sky and starts moving in time with the music: a rain dance!

Larry steps into Doris and grabs an umbrella, opens it under the verandah and starts walking toward us. Hunter sees him, picks up his bag and starts walking away toward Arnold. I scurry to the shelter of Doris. Larry follows Hunter until they’re both out of the downpour. I’m too far away to hear what Larry is saying but Hunter appears to be listening. The rainwater drips from my clothes and makes a puddle at my feet. I’m shivering, but not from the cold. I’ve never said anything like that to another person. I’m not sure if I should apologise. Or should I be proud of myself for fighting back?

One of the mothers looks at me and says, ‘You should get a towel and dry your hair’.