A few days later, I start to feel human again. There’s one week of school to go, then the Christmas holidays begin.
I’m trying to get excited about it, but it’s tough. Mum said last Christmas was ‘forgettable’, but really we all remember it too well. I’m starting to think we don’t forget anything: memories are just a photo or a feeling away from being cued up to play again like a jukebox.
First period with Mrs Rafeek is pretty boring. We’re winding down now, so there’s not much to do. I did better in my last test for her—I got the atom question right—but she was still disappointed with my effort. I wish I could take the test again now, but there’s too much else to do. I haven’t even started the ‘My Life Right Now’ story for Catling. He keeps giving me extensions when I just wanted him to fail me. But now I want to write it. I will, tonight.
Naya isn’t hanging out with us anymore. Apparently she has been catching up with Leon after school a bit, but at lunchtime she sits with Kelsey, Sophie and Brianna on the hill. They watch Shitty and his goons play Marker’s Up. Conversation with those girls would be tough to bear, so she must really like Shitty. Or she really hates me.
Shitty has had some pretty full-on family stuff, Naya’s right about that. I’m glad I’ll never know what it feels like to have your mum leave you. I suppose he needs someone who will lift him up, get him back on track. But he can’t blame me for it anymore—I won’t let him.
I’ve been writing about Naya. Not just in my journal thing, but doing some rhyming stuff too. Like lyrics, I guess. Really bad lyrics. I’ve got a plan on how to use it for good, though.
Aaleyah still sits with us, and she’s talking a lot more. Strangely, her and Jimmy get along really well. Jimmy told me she’s his ‘portal into the female mind’, and will help him win Sophie back.
He even shares his bench with her at lunchtimes, like right now.
‘I’m sourcing synthetics for Kelsey’s party,’ Jimmy announces, and stands up. ‘And they coming straight from the plug this time—no more fuckeries with Shitty. So, hit me with your orders.’ He twiddles his thumbs over his phone screen, ready to type.
‘I’ll have what you have, Jim,’ Tyse says.
‘Dayum. You ’bout to die, Ty-Ty!’
‘Just one cap for me,’ Leon says. ‘You picking up drinks too?’
‘Sure. My broski’s back home on Friday, he’ll grab ’em.’
‘Then a four-pack of Breezers please, watermelon flavour.’
‘So gay, but okay.’ Jimmy types it in. ‘Aaleyah, you want anything?’
‘Oh, no, thanks.’
‘C’mon, A! Live a little! You’re missing out on the real Banarang yoof experience.’
Aaleyah crinkles her face up like she’s actually thinking about it. ‘Oh, okay. Maybe some of the marijuana. I like the smell.’
‘Nice!’ Jimmy says. ‘I’ll have plenty of de ’erb, but I’ll bring even more. So, some girl drinks and a rock candy mood enhancer for Leon; green for A-Train; then green, purple, white, Grey Goose, magic beans and rock candy for me and Tyse. Damn! Call me rap game Willy Wonka, I got the sweets. I shall prepare your tax-deductible invoices.’
‘Jimmy,’ I say. ‘Can you grab me something too?’
All eyes land on me at once. Jimmy looks the most astonished.
‘First Aaleyah and now my day-one homie Bonesy—lightning strikes twice today. Of course, my G. This one’s on me. What you want?’
‘Err, VB, I guess.’
‘That stuff taste like sour piss, man. I’ll get you some Bundy and Cokes. A country boy like you will love ’em.’
Jimmy sinks back in his seat and proudly exhales like he’s finished a hard day’s work. He claps his hands together and starts rubbing a fire up. ‘Man, this is gonna be a wild night. A gen-u-ine lit-uation. Whole place finna get tore up when we drop “All For Da Pussy”, trusssst me! Cops should probably get the Riot Squad on standby.’
‘You sure Sophie is going to let you in?’ Leon asks.
‘Yeah, son, of course. Cos, A: I’ve already sorted the music gear lending with Kelse. And two: Soph texted me this morning saying, “I can’t wait to run into you so I can ignore you”—so I know she wants me there.’
Leon and I stop in for ice creams at the fish-and-chip shop on the way home. We sit at the plastic table inside, surrounded by magic-eye pictures blu-tacked all over the walls.
‘So, what do you and Naya chat about when you hang out?’ I ask, all casual like I don’t care.
He grins. ‘I was wondering when you were going to ask that.’
‘Why?’ I ask nonchalantly, as I chomp a corner off my double-chocolate ice cream,
‘Please, bruz, I’m not an idiot.’ He flicks my arm. ‘Naya’s been a help with some stuff for me, and maybe I’ve been a help for her.’ He bites off a fat glacier from his lemonade icy pole. ‘I think she was right, you know. Banarang’s not so bad if you look at it the right way.’
I don’t know what he’s talking about, so I don’t know what to say.
‘You haven’t been spending much time with her lately, though,’ he says.
‘Yeah. Well. She made it pretty clear she wants to be left alone.’
‘Yeah, it’s true she won’t let guys harass her. But you’ve got to find out where you sit in her mind, I guess, cos she doesn’t like quitters either.’
I lean in, so the chip-fryer boy can’t hear me. ‘What do you mean? Where do you think I sit?’
Leon taps his forehead. ‘Near the front.’
When I get home, Mum tells me that Dad came by. It’s the first time since moving day that he’s visited Mum’s place. Why today?
It hits me what the date is. I know where he’ll be.
I skate down to Memorial Park. I pick up my deck and sprint along the gravel path, past the spot and across the footy field towards the Basin foreshore.
They’re sitting on the grass. Trav’s neck is bent over his phone and Dad is reading a book. Brittle, browning eucalyptus leaves are scattered around them, cast-offs from the hulking ancient trees above.
‘Hey, Dad. I didn’t know you were coming around.’
‘No worries, matey. Can you believe it’s been two years?’
‘Ha. Yeah. Feels like about five years, doesn’t it?’
Four rounded concrete tombstones are lined up next to each other. My great-grandfather and grandmother, my grandpa and Uncle Dan are all under us.
‘Do you think he’s still around somewhere, Dad?’ Trav asks. ‘Like, heaven and all that shit.’
‘No one knows, mate. And only fools claim to. What I did read, though, is—’
‘Please Dad,’ Trav says. ‘No more philosophy book quotes.’
‘Mrs Rafeek told me something about it,’ I say. ‘It’s a science thing. It was, no atom is destroyed, it’s just re-dispersed, or converted into something else. Is that right, Dad?’
He shrugs. ‘Dunno.’
‘What does that mean?’ Trav drops his phone into his lap and reclines back onto his elbows.
‘Well, we’re all made of atoms. So it means our energy, when we die, just goes into other stuff, probably. Neutrons, etc.’
‘Like reincarnation or some shit?’
‘Nah, I don’t think like that. Sort of, but no.’
‘I like that,’ Dad says. ‘And all the stuff he said to us hangs around too.’ Dad smiles as the cool breeze comes through. It’s the kind of smile I haven’t seen from him all year—it’s even wider and more tranquil than the one he gets after smoking weed wax.
‘I’ll tell you something I’ve realised too, boys.’ He pats the ground in front of him. ‘Down there, that’s where we go to rot. Not out here. Not in the air.’ His blue eyes move between Trav and me. ‘And I’m not going to rot in front of you guys anymore.’
Then, silence. And the cicada buzz and kookaburra calls take centre stage for a few perfect minutes.
‘I want to go here in the end,’ Trav says. ‘Are we still allowed, or has the council stopped it?’
‘Nah mate, Carters are allowed forever. Plenty of space, as you can see.’ He chuckles. ‘Jeez this is a bit morbid again, isn’t it? Sorry, I can’t help myself. Your mum won’t be happy with all this talk.’
‘What about Mum?’ I ask. ‘Can she go here?’
‘Sure. If she wants to. I told you family was forever, didn’t I?’
I don’t say it out loud, but I want to rest and rot here too. Become the earth. Bones when I came into this world and bones when I go out.
But until then, I might give being Ben Carter from Banarang a go.