DON’T GO

In among the undergrowth at Hanging Rock, Ray was trying to find his sunglasses.

‘I just got to grab those bastards, and then I’ll show you,’ he was saying to Farren, who was telling him there was no rush, he was enjoying the view.

‘Right,’ Ray brushed some dirt off his sunnies and hung them by one arm from the neck of his T-shirt. ‘Ready. OK, look, I should warn you …’

‘You already did.’

‘Yeah. Just want to make sure you know what you’re in for.’

‘Frankly, I have no idea.’

‘Well, the theory is we wander on over there and a second later we’re in the centre of the city. That’s the theory. But I wouldn’t want to make you any iron-clad guarantees.’

‘Yeah, you said. Some sort of shimmery haze or something. Hey look, it’s fine. I’ve got my boy’s school play tomorrow night, as long as I’m back for that it’s fine.’ He grinned at Ray and rubbed his palms together. ‘An adventure! I’m so up for it. Where do we go?’

‘Just over that way a bit,’ Ray pointed to a clear area in a scrubby bit of bush.

‘We just walk on through?’

‘Yep, just act like you’re on your way to the other side of the trees.’

‘OK – la la la,’ Farren broke into a fake unconcerned whistle as he strolled into the clearing.

‘See,’ said Ray, making a quick sidestep to avoid a refugee’s cooking fire. ‘Just like that: we’re there.’

‘Very impressive! Hello, little girl. No, I’m afraid I can’t give you any money. If you’d like to come with me I can buy you an apple. Huh,’ he turned to Ray, ‘I guess she didn’t want an apple. So! That’s some magic transporting device you have there. Any idea what you’re going to call it?’

‘I thought I’d leave that to you creative business types.’

‘Well Ray, I have to say it’s a pretty killer concept. Probably a few kinks we need to iron out – the whole howling blackness thing we could probably sell as an add-on – but I think it’s a goer. I’ll get one of my business analysts to do a few trips with you, come up with a spec for the product. Shall I have my people talk to your people?’

‘I’m a little short on people right now. Maybe we could have a drink together for starters?’

‘I like the way you think. I know a little wine bar by the law courts – whaddya say?’

‘Sounds just my speed. How about instead of that you come down to Market with me for a few VBs? My shout.’

‘Ah, cultural exchange. I’m all about cultural exchange right now. Let’s do it.’

One of Ray’s sports sandals was really starting to rub. He thought he might be getting a blister. Perhaps the Velcro had come loose. He stopped for a moment to adjust the strap, and watched Farren’s designer-jean-clad arse wander on oblivious. He’d better get something good out of this. Maybe it was a mistake – dorky day-trippers stumbling into The Gap, chatting up his coat-check dame. What if Farren chatted her up? Damn. He needed to stop her from ever meeting Farren. And all wandering into his San Francisco, pointing at stuff and acting like tourists. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. But man, the money. The things he could do with the money.

Like what? Seriously, it wasn’t going to be enough money to make all this better. Not enough money to let him sit in the Medallion Club at the footy every week, or shop at Woolworths, or go to wine bars. To have kids that could go to school. Maybe enough money for some new sports sandals and a moto of his own. Maybe a little more. Maybe.

Farren realized he’d stopped, was calling out to him.

‘What up, Ray?’

‘Just fixing my shoe. There. She’s good.’

‘Come on dude! Let’s go slam down a few green grenades.’

‘Yep. I’m right now. To Peira’s!’

‘Sure, whatevs.’

Outside Peira’s, Jason was trying to sell his phone battery to a hillsider, and all was right with the world. There was Caddy, sitting at her usual table with a half-drunk vodka and tonic in front of her, a john by her side with his hand on her knee. Who was, apparently, the imaginary Kiwi from Ray’s last visit to The Gap. Which was a little bit not the way things were supposed to be.

‘Caddy!’ Farren had thrown his arms wide, embracing the whole world of sticky tiled floor, sluggish fans and bleakeyed children. The clean smell of him wafted over her and she looked over her shoulder to see Peira digging out the highpriced menu.

‘Hey Farren, how’s things?’

Harry looked up from the copy of CitiXtra he was reading. ‘Hey bro.’

‘Hey.’ But Harry was reading again.

It was the imaginary Kiwi, Ray was sure of it.

‘Hi Ray!’ Caddy half got out of her chair to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Ray, this is Harry.’

‘Oh, hey br … hey!’

Ray gave a tiny half-wave; for a minute he felt like Queen Kate on the balcony of Buckingham Palace. ‘G’day.’ For a second Ray was about to say something about The Gap and being imaginary and all of that, but it all seemed too hard. Instead, he went with ‘so’d you guys get up?’

And Harry was about to ask him what had happened to the inside of the house, but instead he said, ‘You bet we did. You were all out for 138. Piss weak!’

‘Ah, you wait.’

‘Yeah, yer all talk.’

And Caddy was about to ask if they somehow knew each other, but then she remembered what Harry had said about the Koori fencer and she knew that they did, so she asked Peira for another vodka and tonic.

And Farren was behind her wrapping his arms around her and planting a big wet one on her neck.

‘Farren,’ she said. ‘So lovely to see you.’ And for a minute she felt like Queen Kate at a garden party. ‘This is my husband Harry. Harry, this is Farren; he’s a friend of Ray’s, we go to the football sometimes.’ And then she thought about stabbing herself in the eye with a fork, but luckily her drink showed up and there was no cutlery that she could immediately lay her hands on.

‘Yeah, g’day.’ Good old dependable Harry. ‘Who’s your team?’

‘Go Doggies!’

‘Nice.’

‘Yours?’

‘I’m a rugby man.’

No one ever knew what to say to that.

‘So, Ray!’

‘Yes Caddy.’

‘How’ve you been?’

It was weird being watched while she talked to Ray. She felt she should be putting on some kind of a show for Harry and Farren. Harry and Farren – there’s a phrase she’d never aspired to hear. Did Harry really think he’d last seen her yesterday? This must be so weird for him. Who were all these friends she suddenly had – had she been hiding them from him for years?

‘So,’ this was clearly too much silence for Farren, ‘you guys are married hey? Guess that makes you and Ray brothers-in-law? You do look kind of alike.’

Caddy was going to point out that being brothers-in-law didn’t make two people actually related, but she could see that wasn’t going to lead anywhere she particularly wanted to go. Had she really had a bit of a crush on this guy? Well, yes, she had. That was just the kind of person she was, she supposed. Hurrah.

‘Yeah, we’re both a bit brown I guess,’ Harry apparently didn’t want to leave it alone just yet. ‘Ain’t that right, cuz?’

Ray waved goodbye to a brilliant business opportunity. ‘Sure thing bro. I mean, you’re Maori, right – that’d be some kind of Polynesian if I’m not mistaken. And I’m Iora, which means my people used to live around Sydney area and probably never even heard of a Polynesian. But sure, why not? One brown bloke is much the same as the next, right?’

‘Aw, come on guys, I was just trying to be friendly. Let me buy you a VB, yeah?’

Ray was about to say ‘sure’, but Harry got in first, ‘Thanks mate, I can buy my own beers,’ which meant Ray felt he had to take sides.

Caddy knew Harry actually couldn’t get his own beers, so she slipped him a few dollars under the table.

‘In fact,’ he said, as he felt the warm coins in his palm, ‘how about I get us some beers. Ray?’

‘Sure.’

‘Three VBs please ma’am,’ Harry called to Peira, who looked a bit peeved as she put the cocktail menu back under the bar.

‘And another vodka thanks,’ said Caddy. How had Peira resisted asking about Harry for so long? They’d been there at least half an hour. She was being unusually discreet.

‘So mate,’ Harry turned to Ray, ‘you ever find that house you were looking for? Your boss sort you out eventually?’

‘No, I gave up in the end, came back here. You? You find your fencer?’

‘Nah, never showed up. Dunno what happened to the bloke.’

‘So you came here instead?’

‘Yeah, tracked Caddy down at Docklands hanging out with her mate Simon – you know this bloke? American bloke, older …’

Ray looked at Caddy but she wasn’t meeting his eye. ‘Don’t think so. Caddy, do I know this bloke?’

‘Yeah, don’t know.’

‘I guess not. So that was all cool, no problems getting here?’

‘Yeah, no worries. Why’d you ask?’

‘Oh, I dunno. Making conversation. So anyway, I’ve heard a lot about you. I don’t know if you know, but I think Caddy has a bit of a crush on you.’

Caddy smiled. Farren kept trying to chat to her, but she wanted to eavesdrop on these two, so she cut him off.

‘Yeah, that’s weird how you guys know each other,’ Harry was saying. ‘I don’t think I ever heard her talk about you. You just been friends lately?’

‘I guess it’s been about two years.’

‘That’s a while, eh.’

Farren dramatically drained his can and stood up. ‘Right, well, better get back to it. Caddy, lovely to see you again, and so nice to meet your husband.’ Caddy was pretty sure she was blushing. ‘Ray, why don’t you call me some time about the whole map thing. Thank you for the beer, sir.’

Peira looked up, but he was talking to Harry. Farren stepped out into the sunshine, thrusting his hands in his pockets and glancing up at the sky before striding onto the street. As he turned the corner, swarms of children descended, drawn like flies by a clean shirt and genuine aviator sunglasses.

‘Sorry I was mean to your friend, Cad,’ Harry said.

‘It’s OK. He’s Ray’s friend really.’

‘Business associate.’

‘Sorry: he’s Ray’s business associate really.’

‘What business you in, Ray?’

‘Oh, this and that. Alternative travel methods at the minute. Just a little proposal I’ve got with Farren. Can’t talk too much about it right now.’

‘Sure, no worries. Hey Cad?’

‘Yes sweety.’

‘It’s real bright today, don’t ya reckon?’

‘I spose. It’s always pretty bright.’

‘Yeah, seems extra bright today though. You got any spare cash on you? Reckon you could grab me some sunnies off someone?’

‘Here, borrow mine. Take this five bucks and see what you can get hold of.’

For what felt like half an hour after Harry left, Caddy felt Ray sitting, staring, sitting, staring.

‘Yeah,’ she said eventually, ‘I know.’

‘Caddy, he’s imaginary.’

‘What did I just say?’

‘You said you know.’

‘I know.’

Ray was still staring at her. She could feel it. She looked out into the harshness of the street, hoping for a friendly face, someone to come over and say, ‘Hey Cad, you know what? It’s not Harry that’s imaginary, it’s all this bullshit. That’s right, this is ALL A DREAM.’ Maybe it would be her mum, perhaps. That would be nice.

‘What Ray?’

‘Do you really know it? I mean, you know it in your head. But Caddy! Jesus girl, what are you going to do?’

‘Fuck. Ray, I don’t know. I don’t know. Can we not just act like he’s real?’

‘Is it like he’s real though?’

Caddy thought for a while. She wanted the answer to be yes. Sure. Yes. She couldn’t tell the difference. But she could tell the difference. It wasn’t just the tattoo. He wasn’t Harry. It was all the good bits she’d remembered, but now he was here she was aware that there were all kinds of good bits she hadn’t remembered to remember, and she could feel their absence. She missed the way he really gave her the shits sometimes, for starters.

‘No, alright. No.’

‘OK, so what are you going to do?’

‘How the fuck would I know? You’re the ideas man.’

Ray just did that whole staring thing again.

‘What? Seriously, what? You have a lot of experience deciding what to do about your dead imaginary husband who you love like it makes you crazy but who is clearly dead and imaginary and therefore you can’t just, can’t just …?’

‘Can you?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve done all kinds of not sane stuff before. Maybe I can just be with dead imaginary Harry. Maybe I can.’

‘Hey look, if you can make this work I’m totally down with it. With you every step of the way. We’ll just carry on, no tricky questions, no nothing. He’s Harry, your husband, been here all along, no worries.’

Caddy gently lowered her forehead to the table, but thanks to the vodka slightly miscalculated and whacked herself a good one at the last second.

‘Ow!’

‘You right there?’

‘Yeah. Argh.’ She rested her chin on the table and looked up at him from under her eyebrows. ‘What should I do?’

‘Right. Here’s my idea.’ Ray pulled up the leg of his blue nylon soccer shorts and rested his left foot on his right knee. ‘We all move to The Gap. Go live in San Francisco. The whole thing’s made up by you, Harry will fit in just fine.’

‘We’re not made up by me.’

‘You are.’

‘Oh don’t try and trap me in some dumb arse philosophical argument! You know what I mean.’

‘Not really.’

‘I don’t know if we’ll fit in. I think we’ll get bored. I know there are edges to that world. I made it up. It’s so, I don’t know, narrow and shallow.’

‘When was the last time you left Melbourne? It’s not a rhetorical question, don’t frown at me and look at the ceiling.’

‘OK, about never.’

‘We can’t go anywhere here even if we wanted to, there’s nowhere left to go. You think there aren’t edges to this world?^’’

‘We could go to Tassie. Or New Zealand. Lanh’s brother went to Tassie.’

‘Oh yeah, there’s a big adventure. Let’s move to Tassie and stay in our little Federation era cottage with our immediate family protecting our last few worldly goods and ordering in sushi.’

‘Alright. ALRIGHT Don’t be smug. I accept your argument about the lack of adventure here. But Ray, it’s MY imaginary San Francisco. I already know about everything in my imagination. There isn’t even the risk that the sushi I order in will make me sick or be more expensive than I thought it was going to be, because I wouldn’t imagine something like that for myself, would I? You know?’

‘Yeah, OK. It’s not perfect. So let’s hear your idea. Oh! what a surprise! Caddy doesn’t have an idea!’

‘Hey look, while we’re at it, all giving each other shit and stuff, why did you bring Farren here?’

Peira interrupted. ‘You ordering another drink or am I kicking you out?’

‘Caddy has to wait for her dead imaginary husband to come back.’

‘Ray Pickett,’ Peira threw a menu down in front of him, ‘don’t try and bring me in to your shenanigans. Drink?’

‘Thank you yes. I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri.’

‘No strawberries, you know that.’

‘Mango?’

‘Please try to be serious, if only for a minute.’

‘Banana daiquiri please.’

‘And for you?’

‘Peira, you know what I want.’

‘A vodka and tonic for the lady. Fine. And your dead husband, will he be back? A drink for sir?’

‘Nothing for now Peira, thank you.’ Sometimes Caddy felt like an eight year old in this place. Maybe that’s why she kept coming here.

‘Hey Peira,’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Say you had a husband …’

‘I have a husband.’

‘Whoa! Really?’

‘Caddy, don’t act surprised. You’ve never asked me a single question about my life, why on earth would you know my marital status?’

‘OK, sorry. Anyway. So you have a husband. Just say he died, and then you kept thinking about him all the time, remembering all the good things about him and conveniently forgetting the bad stuff, and then one day he came back. And he was all the stuff you’d remembered, but you realized you weren’t sure that stuff really was the good stuff, but now that was it, that was him.’

‘All the good stuff, and none of the bad?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I suppose you would rejoice and thank your lucky stars.’

‘Yeah, you’d think that, wouldn’t you?’

‘If you weren’t some kind of angsty hipster that’s exactly what you’d think.’

Caddy was realizing why she’d previously limited conversation with Peira to ‘vodka and tonic’ and ‘oh, come on, can you PLEASE put the fan on?’

But she did admit that Peira kind of had a point.

‘Caddy,’ Harry slumped down in the seat next to her, yellow wrap-arounds perched on his head, ‘it is HOT out there.’

‘Another VB?’ Peira had apparently had enough of that conversation too.

‘Please!’

Ray claimed he had stuff to do. ‘But hey Cad,’ he said as he was leaving, ‘track me down if you decide SF is the way to go.’

‘Sure, I’ll let you know.’

‘I mean, track me down whatever. You know I’m fine whatever.’

‘I know. Thanks Ray.’

He winked, tipped an imaginary hat at her and headed off into the sunshine.

‘Bye Ray. Here’s your change honey,’ Harry handed her $1.

‘Nice bargain hunting, they look good.’

‘Yeah, ta.’

‘You alright?’

‘Yeah, nah. Bit hot. It’s making me feel a bit fuzzy.’

‘Yeah, it is a bit hot. That VB should sort you out. If it doesn’t, have a few more and at least you’ll have a reason to feel fuzzy.’

But she was worried. He did look a bit, well, fuzzy.

‘Instead of that, do you reckon we could go home?’

‘Sure sweetie.’ Only they didn’t have a home to go to. ‘Any ideas where we could go?’ She saw the drawn, confused look on his face and said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.’

Lanh’s was surely out of the question. They probably had about thirty dollars between them, so a hotel was impossible too. They could go down to Flagstaff or Fitzroy Gardens and bribe someone for a bit of space – but she had no stove anymore, no water container, no mattress … shit, instead of getting drunk with Simon and drinking vodka with her dead husband, she really should have been getting her life sorted out.

‘I’ll just go pay, OK, and we can head off?’

Harry nodded.

‘Found a new place to live yet, Caddy?’

‘No, not yet.’ What was she, psychic?

‘Tell you what. You two clean up here tonight when we close, mop the floor and do the dishes, you can sleep on the floor behind the bar. I’ve got a piece of foam we can put down there.’

Caddy thought she must be joking, but she didn’t look like she was joking.

‘Serious? Peira, that would be totally awesome. Unbelievably awesome. But I haven’t got money or anything I can give you …’

‘I already told you, you clean up, it’s fine. You can use the hotplate and the toilet and sink. I’m taking classes in the evening. I don’t want to be late. Closing up takes time.’

‘Thank you. Thank you so much. Sorry I never asked about your husband.’

‘Seriously, I’m really not that interested in discussing my husband with you. Your husband looks nice. I’m glad he’s not dead.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ I think.

‘OK, closing is at seven.’

‘I know.’

‘Yes, of course. So be back here then and I’ll show you what to do. Things go OK, you can stay a while. We’ll see. Leave the cat though. She’s kind of cute.’

‘Thank you, thank you. We won’t get in the way.’

‘Shut up now.’

Oh man, she really should be nicer to Peira.

‘Hey Harry, guess what?’

‘Don’t make me guess.’

‘Peira says we can stay here tonight. Maybe longer, see how we go.’

‘Hey, that’s great.’

‘You don’t sound that stoked.’

‘No, I am, I am. I’m just weird feeling. Tired or something.’

‘Yeah. It’s been a full-on day. Anyway, we’ve got to be back here at seven, but we should probably clear out till then. Anything you want to do?’

‘Lie down. Man, I wish we had the hammock.’

‘Yeah, that hammock was grouse. Hammock and a beer would be great. Hang on,’ Caddy went through her pockets and her backpack and did some sums in her head. ‘We’ve got thirty-two dollars and 40 cents. I reckon we can splash out on a hammock, yeah? Now we’ve got a place to sleep. We’ll need a bit for some food to cook tonight, or we can grab a bit of pigeon or something. And tomorrow I’ll see if Ray or this other bloke Lanh has some work we can do.’ She was going to have to find a new line of work. ‘So what do you say? Want to go grab a platform?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great.’

‘You reckon you can walk? It’s only about ten minutes.’

‘Yep, no worries.’

This would be good. Like old times. She and Harry used to come down to the river once or twice a month and rent a platform over the water for an hour or two. They’d get one with a couple of hammocks and some straw mats to stretch out on, an MP3 player loaded up with bad music from the 2010s, a six-pack in an esky and then they’d just lie around, drink a couple of beers, watch the boats go by and joke with children who wandered in from the other platforms. She used to love that.

This’d be good. Harry was back; she was glad he was back. She hadn’t been to the platforms once since he’d gone. He was back. She loved him; she couldn’t be happier.

‘Cad, does my shadow look weird to you?’

‘What’re you talking about? Don’t be silly.’

‘Serious. Does it look weird to you?’

She pulled him over to her and kissed him on the mouth. ‘I missed you.’

‘Yeah.’ He picked her up a bit, but put her down again just as quickly. ‘So you think it’s OK?’

She looked. ‘It’s a shadow. What’s weird?’

‘Stand here. Stand next to me. See?’

OK, it was a bit weird. His shadow was quite a lot darker than hers. She looked around at the people pressing past. Probably they all had different shadows, right? But they didn’t. Alright, a couple did, but mostly they were all the same.

‘Yeah, I guess it’s a bit darker. That’s not that weird though, hey? I mean, nothing to worry about. We’ll get out of the sun and it’ll be fine.’

Only it was weird. Because the thing was, no matter how much she wanted it not to be true, Caddy could see Harry’s shadow getting darker and darker. And no matter how hard she tried not to let them, drips of that dream she’d had the night she slept by Stony Creek kept oozing into her head. And somewhere behind them, she could see the slick of stickiness that Tarkin Collins had left in the gutter.

‘Let’s get a hammock and lie down,’ she said. ‘It’ll be fine.’

Later that night, on a thin foam mattress on the tiled floor of one of Melbourne’s least prestigious bars, Caddy held her husband’s hand tight and tried not to wake him.

‘Don’t go, OK Harry? Don’t go.’

The mattress was a little bit sticky. They’d tried to be quiet and they’d tried to clean up with some paper towels from behind the bar, but Caddy just knew Peira would somehow be able to tell. She’d never had a boyfriend over to her parents’ house before they died but she thought it must feel a bit like this.

There’d been a lot of this the past year or so, with a lot of different people. And she knew this wasn’t really Harry, not really. Harry was gone. But she’d still burst into tears in the middle of it, just at the relief of it all, of Harry, of normal life – here, on a mattress on the floor of a bar – at the comfortable smell of him, his predictable Harryness, the tender way he pushed her hair behind her ear and looked at her face a little bit too long, until she had to smile.

‘What’s wrong, sweetie?’

‘Nothing. I’m so glad you’re here.’

And for Harry, she thought, how must all this feel? He thought he’d seen her just yesterday morning. For him, the being together wasn’t the special part. For him, it was the not having a house, being homeless on the floor of a bar, being broke, being surrounded by strangers who treated his wife like an old friend. And looking at his shadow and knowing that something he really didn’t understand was going really really wrong. He was the one who should be crying.

She heard Skerrick jump off a chair somewhere at the front of the bar, the click of her claws on the tiles as she wandered over to the bed, the puff of her breath in Caddy’s ear as she climbed on to the pillow.

‘Hey kitty.’

Skerrick dabbed at Caddy’s eyebrow with her tongue, but apparently didn’t much like the taste. Clambering into the space between Caddy and Harry’s heads, she stepped in Caddy’s ear, then curled herself up and began cleaning her paws.

Caddy knew Peira had gone out and bought a sardine especially for Skerrick, even though Caddy had told her that rice would be plenty good enough. Skerrick purred and patted Caddy’s eyelid with a paw.

‘Yeah, thanks.’ She rubbed behind the cat’s ear with her thumb.

Caddy wanted to pull Harry tight against her, cram him against her belly, bury her face in his neck. But she’d only freak him out. He needed sleep. He was tired. All day his shadow had been wearing him out, its thickness dragging along the footpath everywhere he walked, slowing him down. Maybe in the morning things would be better. Maybe eight hours without a shadow would fix things up.

On the edge of sleep, she remembered the men in the laneway, the body they’d been carrying, the thick, dark shadow left behind.

Simon was imaginary, she thought, and he was fifty years old. He’d lived in this world for most of his life, being imaginary, and he was fine, right? It would be OK. In the morning, she and Harry would find some work, and they’d stay here for a while till they had some money, and then they’d find a place to rent.

Maybe she should go see Simon tomorrow. He knew all about this kind of stuff. It was a good idea. She kissed Harry’s cheek. ‘Good night beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning.’