‘Thanks for that, love. Much appreciated.’ The hitchhiker swung his legs into the car and pulled the door shut. With his bags in the boot, he snapped on his seatbelt and sat stiffly in the back behind Dettie, clutching his knees.
When Dettie looked down at the dried mud crusted on his shoes, it was as though there was something sour in her mouth. ‘Our little Samaritan is the one to thank,’ she said, gesturing back at Katie with her thumb. ‘She would’ve sulked the rest of the trip if we’d left you out there.’
‘In that case, thank you very much, young miss,’ the hitchhiker said, nodding to Katie.
He was English, and when he spoke his voice sounded like he was about to break into a laugh. Sam turned to sneak a better look. The hitchhiker had a thick brown beard and grey eyes. He was thin, and his shirt hung too large from his neck, exposing the length of his clavicle, ballooning where it tucked into his pants. He smelt like linen warmed by the sun, and when he ruffled his hair flecks of pollen and dust came drifting out. When the hitchhiker noticed Sam peering at him, he smiled.
‘Morning,’ he said, raising his eyebrows. Sam waved back.
Dettie put the car in gear, pulled out from the side of the road and hopped back up onto the highway. Everyone jerked in their seats, and as she sped off, the motor howled, the shuddering inside it increasing. ‘So where are you trying to get to?’ she asked.
The hitchhiker folded up his cardboard sign and stuffed it behind his legs. ‘Not any place in particular,’ he said. ‘Just travelling.’
Nobody said anything, so he cleared his throat. ‘Spent some time up on your Gold Coast there,’ he said. ‘Bit of Sydney. Tried Adelaide out for a while. Thought I might head out west. A friend of mine said I should check out Monkey Mia. Have you been at all?’
‘And that’s what you do, is it?’ Dettie snorted a laugh. ‘Travel around?’
The hitchhiker scratched inside his beard. ‘For now,’ he said, shrugging, the gesture almost entirely muffled by the saggy mass of his clothes. ‘Just doing the rounds.’
‘And that pays well, does it?’
When he’d unwound a kink in his seatbelt, he looked around and smiled. ‘And where are you lovely people off to?’
‘We’re going to Perth,’ Katie said.
The hitchhiker whistled.
‘Three days it’s took so far,’ Katie said, ‘but we’re going fast and not stopping. We sleep in the car even. And we bought new clothes when we needed them. Also, one time there was this boy who broke a tooth—’
‘So have you got a name then?’ Dettie’s voice rose, drowning her out.
The hitchhiker was nodding at Katie, but he looked up. ‘Oh, yes. Sorry, love,’ he said. ‘It’s Jon.’
Dettie adjusted herself in her seat. ‘Sorry, it’s Mr…?’
‘No, don’t bother with the niceties, love. Jon’s fine.’
She inhaled, loudly, through her nose. ‘Well. Mr Jon,’ she said, ‘that’s Katie in the back with you, and this here is Sam. He doesn’t talk.’
Sam was expecting him to ask why, or to look shocked, but Jon only nodded. ‘Had a good dose of sun there, me mate.’
For the first time that morning the sunburn on Sam’s face throbbed again, and he dipped his head.
Jon began folding back his shirtsleeve. ‘I grew up in Manchester,’ he said. ‘We see the sun there about twice a year if we’re lucky. So you can imagine when I got out here, I was lily white. And the first day—the first day—I got off the plane, I got burnt worse than I ever have in my life. Just walking the streets. Giant blisters all over me.’
Dettie kept breathing loudly through her nose.
‘A few days later, though, when the glow went down,’ Jon held up his forearm, ‘this was what was under it.’ His skin was as brown as Sam’s grandfather’s had been after working all those years on the farm. ‘You watch, me mate, in a couple of days you’ll have a better tan than any of us.’
Sam felt his sunburn throb again, but this time it didn’t hurt. He almost liked the tight feeling on his skin.
The car drifted towards the side of the road and kicked gravel up under the floor. Dettie stopped peering in the mirror, frowned, and jerked the steering wheel so that the tyres remounted the asphalt.
Jon was tapping on his knees, whistling. He fiddled with the ashtray near the doorhandle, and turned to look at Katie. ‘So how about you, sweetheart?’ he said. ‘I bet you got all the boys running after you.’
Katie scrunched up her nose. ‘Eww! No!’ she groaned, but she was blushing.
‘She most certainly does not!’ Dettie snapped. ‘And I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head.’
‘Sorry, love,’ he said, puffing out his cheeks. ‘Didn’t mean nothing by it.’
When he noticed Sam looking at him, he rolled his eyes. Sam spun back around, covering a smile with his hands. Beside him, Dettie was glaring at the road, her expression narrowed and tight.
Jon grasped his shirt and lifted it up and down to fan his chest. He glanced around at all the windows, wound shut, and leant forward. ‘Just realised I didn’t catch your name, love,’ he said, over the hiss of the vents.
Sam noticed his aunt’s eye flicker, but she didn’t respond.
A moment passed until Katie sat up again, bouncing in her seat. ‘That’s Aunt Dettie,’ she said.
‘Dettie, eh?’ Jon leant forward against Sam’s seat back and rested his chin on his arm. He whistled. ‘Can’t say I’ve heard that before. Is it short for anything?’
The plastic of the steering wheel squeaked under Dettie’s grip.
Katie hummed, ‘Um…nope. Just Dettie. Aunty Dettie.’
‘It’s Bernadette,’ Dettie exhaled, shaking her head.
Jon tilted his ear towards her. ‘What’s that, love?’
‘Bernadette. My name.’
‘Oh.’ Jon grinned at her, exposing a mouthful of cluttered teeth. ‘Like the saint.’
Dettie glared at him, eyes narrowed, but when he kept grinning back, her face softened. As she turned back to the road a faint look of surprise tickled her lips. They drove on, her shoulders relaxing more with every passing kilometre.