One Would Think the Deep Page 11

  ‘You can take any of ’em,’ Shane yelled. ‘You got something none of them have: style, like. You gotta chill, but. You tense up. When you’re not thinking about it, it happens, every time. You’re a waterman. It’s natural. You gotta capitalise on that, brah. You gotta build on it. You got the balls, brah. You can take it.’

  ‘All about the balls, isn’t it, Shane?’ said Ruby.

  ‘Yeah, it is. That’s why he’s goin’ all the way and you’re working in a bakery.’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘Right back at you, sweetheart.’

  ‘If you’re relying on someone’s mythical balls to win the World Title, you got a problem.’

  ‘I got a problem with you, that’s ’bout it.’

  ‘Shhhh, shhhh,’ Minty made a pressing down motion with his hands. ‘We’re all friends here, yeah? We’re goin’ for a surf. It’s all good.’

  ‘I’m saying,’ said Shane. ‘That you put your mind to it, you can go all the way.’

  ‘I don’t know, brah. I just hate it when people are watching. It’s like you got everyone on the beach making perfect decisions about which wave I should take or shouldn’t take. It’s alright for them, they’re not out there under the pressure, you know? It stops being about the waves. It’s something else … You know, Laird Hamilton caught a forty-five footer at Waimea last month? That’s fourteen metres. Picture that, brah. That’s what it’s about, you know.’

  ‘Tow-in, but.’

  ‘Still. Anyone can do some fancy shit on a six-foot wave. There’s nothing to lose. But that … That’s the real thing. I never even seen a wave that big in the flesh, to ride it. Brah, it would be like climbing Everest.’

  ‘Who’s Laird Hamilton?’ Sam asked.

  Shane glanced into the back with a look of disgust. ‘Only the best big-wave surfer in the world, dickwad. That guy has balls of steel.’

  ‘Or,’ offered Ruby. ‘He’s another jock who can’t stop talking about his balls. You’re all so obsessed with one another’s balls, you should—’

  ‘You can get out of the van if you want,’ said Shane.

  ‘So you can all make out?’

  Shane swung the steering wheel and the van skidded onto gravel. ‘Stuff this. Out!’

  ‘Shane, brah,’ Minty tried to placate him. ‘She’s just tryin’ to get a rise out of you.’

  ‘I’d have to be Laird Hamilton to get a rise out of him.’

  ‘You bitch.’

  ‘Ruby. Not helping. Shut up, yeah? Shane, you can’t leave her on the side of the road, brah. You’ll have to leave me too. Come on, we gotta hustle.’

  Shane said something under his breath and accelerated back on to the highway. ‘Your problem, Mint, is you’re Mr Nice Guy. You’re everyone’s buddy, everyone’s friend. You gotta go out there to kill.’

  ‘I just wanna have a good time.’

  ‘Well, you gotta work out whether you’re there to have a good time or there to win.’ He poked a finger toward Minty’s forehead. ‘What’s in there? Before a comp? You gotta get psyched. I want you zoned, Minty. You win a big comp like Cronulla, you got an open door to the national titles. You place there and you’re on the World Qualifying Circuit. You get paid by Rip Curl, Quiksilver, whoever, to compete. They pay your way if you’re good enough. You’re good enough. You just gotta get your head straight and show ’em when it counts.’

  Minty looked out the window, not answering. Shane pointed a thumb back to where Ruby was. ‘She’s a bitch but she won everything she entered ’cause she doesn’t give a stuff about anything else or what anyone thinks.’

  ‘Wow. That sounds like a compliment, Shane.’

  ‘You competed with girls. If I competed with girls I’d win too.’

  ‘That’s bullshit and you know it.’

  They drove for another half hour in silence. Then Shane turned off the highway and they snaked through treeless flat streets lined with fibro cottages. The water opened out in front of them and Shane pulled into a dirt car park. The sun was up and the sky was clear milky blue. Waves rolled like corduroy across the sparkling bay.

  ‘Whoo! We gotta break. You paid it, Sammy,’ Minty shouted. He swung out of the van and stepped into his wetsuit. Shane didn’t congratulate Sam or acknowledge him. He stretched, burped loudly and got out of the van.

  ‘You got lucky, weather boy. You should be cheering,’ said Ruby.

  ‘This is my cheering face.’

  It was worth the drive and the early start. Out beyond the break the early sun splashed golden light on the turquoise water and out there, on the waves, Sam forgot himself. Forgot everything.

  Shane had to work in the afternoon, so he dropped them at the chicken shop where they sprawled in the plastic chairs on the footpath. Ruby picked over the last of the chips and turned her huge dark eyes to Minty. ‘So, you gonna, like, start training for Cronulla? Shane’s got it all sorted. All mapped out nice and clear. All you gotta do is turn up and be a show pony.’ She nudged him with her elbow and there was something intimate in it: something shared, a closeness between people that only comes with time, something Sam didn’t have anymore, and the envy of it ground into him.

  Minty downed his chocolate milk. ‘You’re all on me about competing and that, but you should do it if you’re so keen. Get a sweet sponsorship deal. Wouldn’t have to work.’ There was no weight in Minty’s words. It was all jest and Ruby played it.

  ‘Sponsorship from who? Sports Illustrated?’

  ‘Yeah. Do a bikini spread.’

  ‘Oh yeah! That’s a really good idea, Minty! Why didn’t I think’a that?’

  He laughed and she smiled, cocked her shoulder like a pin-up model and raised her middle finger at him with a wink.

  ‘Aw look, it’s your buddy!’ Minty said. Ruby looked in the direction Minty was pointing and let out a long groan and put her forehead on the table. Sam looked to see an old woman pushing her trolley toward the chicken shop.

  ‘She still at you, Rube?’ asked Minty.

  Ruby didn’t raise her head but groaned in answer. The woman came to a slow halt in front of them. She was small but there was something big and ceremonious about the way she stopped, like a locomotive gradually slowing. Despite the heat she was coated in layers of clothing, all different colours like the flaking layers of paint on an old house. Like a story. She fixed her bright eyes on Ruby.

  ‘Ruby Jean! There she is.’

  Ruby looked up and took a deep breath. ‘Can you stop?’

  The woman cackled, tilting her head back. ‘Who are you, Ruby Jean? I tell you who you are.’ She leaned toward Ruby’s ear and whispered. ‘You a Murri girl.’

  Ruby stretched her jaws wide and yawned, as if trying to let out her frustration without being aggressive.

  ‘How’s it goin’?’ Minty asked. ‘I’m Minty, this is Sam. You know Ruby.’

  ‘Aw yes. Ruby Jean. There she is,’ wheezed the woman. ‘Ruby Jean … waddya say? Whitters … Winters … Whit—’

  ‘Whitterson.’

  The woman pursed her lips. ‘Nope. No, that’s not your name.’

  ‘That’s my name.’ Ruby’s voice was blunt.

  ‘What you doing with these gubbahs?’’ The woman wheezed again and licked her lips. She lowered herself into a chair beside Ruby. Minty covered his mouth and looked away to muffle his laughter. Ruby rolled her eyes.

  ‘I know you. I know a woman, years back. Toomelah. Murri woman. Mirror picture of you! You’re her girl.’

  ‘You know Ruby’s birth mum?’ Minty asked. He pushed the hot chips toward the woman and she took one. Ruby glared at him.

  ‘Know her gran, she would be. I’m Aunty Violet.’

  Ruby stood up. Minty grabbed her hand and tugged her to sit back down, but she pulled away. The woman just laughed. ‘You got fire in the belly. Yeah. You Murri girl.’ She winked at Sam. ‘She real deadly this one.’

  Sam looked at Ruby and saw her turn away. He couldn’t tell but it almost looked as if her li
p was trembling. She straightened her spine and walked away into the shop. Minty looked at the old woman and put his hands up in a what-can-you-do sort of way.

  ‘Tried to teach her some manners,’ said Minty. ‘Not workin’.’

  The woman just rattled with laughter and shook her head. She stood up and shuffled over to her trolley. ‘You tell Ruby Jean to come see me when she’s ready. Have a yarn.’

  ‘No worries. See you!’ Minty said. The woman waved to him.

  When she was gone Minty stood and yelled into the shop. ‘All clear!’

  Ruby stuck her head out the door, craning to look up the road.

  ‘She’s gone, Rube.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Ruby slumped in a chair and lit a cigarette. ‘Don’t encourage her.’

  ‘You should talk to her,’ Minty said.

  ‘No.’

  ‘She reckons she knows your grandma! That’s cool, brah.’

  ‘Seriously? You’re an idiot, Minty. Do you have any idea the mess that will bring with it? I got all the adopted shit and now I gotta load all this black … stuff on top of it.’

  ‘You can’t say “black”,’ Sam said.

  ‘I farkin’ can because I am black.’

  Minty pointed a finger at her. ‘See!’

  ‘Not now. Got too much goin’ on.’

  ‘You don’t want to know who you really are ’cause you’re too busy?’ Minty pressed.

  Sam didn’t say anything. He knew it wasn’t because Ruby was busy.

  ‘I’m not talking about this.’

  Minty leaned his elbows on the table and looked at her. ‘Rube,’ he said softly. ‘Just talk to her. It’d be cool to meet your real mum.’

  ‘Cool? Are you that fucking dense? You know what people round here call that Violet woman? “That Abo.” What do you think they’re gonna call me? And you reckon I’m gonna keep my job here when I’m “that Abo chick, that black bitch”?’

  Minty recoiled at her words. ‘Don’t … Rube.’ He put a hand on her shoulder and she shrugged him away.

  ‘Like you care.’

  ‘Rube.’

  ‘Piss off!’ She stood up and the plastic chair clattered to the ground behind her. Sam felt his throat tighten. He knew exactly what it was to have a line thrown into the past and have it drag you under. Ruby’s pain was visible on her face and it was like a mirror of his own. Her expression articulated something in him he couldn’t find the words for. He wanted to shrink away, casually take leave without anyone noticing. There was no chance of that happening.

  ‘My mum,’ Ruby pointed a finger in what Sam guessed was the direction of her house, ‘doesn’t even think I should stay in school and she’s the only one who knows for sure what I am.’

  ‘I think you—’

  ‘I don’t care what you think. Save it for Maddie Clark, Minty,’ Ruby muttered.

  Minty sucked in his breath.

  ‘Oh, did I hurt your feelings? Go let Maddie help you feel better.’ She took her board from where it leaned against the window of the shop and walked away without looking back.

  Minty sat staring into the middle distance with a dazed and stung expression.

  Sam cleared his throat. ‘You gonna go after her?’

  ‘She doesn’t want me to follow her.’

  ‘You should go after her.’

  Minty looked at Sam. ‘I should?’

  ‘Duh.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Minty scrambled to his feet and jogged off after Ruby. Sam watched as he caught up to her. Minty took the board from Ruby and she crossed her arms, looking away but listening as he lowered his head and talked to her. They seemed to argue for a while but afterwards Minty turned and gave Sam a wave and then he and Ruby began walking in the direction of the Booners’ house.

  16

  Lorraine served up sausages, mash and a side of macaroni cheese for dinner in front of the television. Ruby was there, a ceasefire between her and Minty seemingly in place. They watched Sale of the Century while they ate and Lorraine made each one of them put a tea towel over their laps so they didn’t get food on their clothes. It was her version of setting the table.

  ‘You get a good surf in today?’

  Minty nodded with enthusiasm. ‘Sammy picked it. Down Nari Bay. He’s got a gift.’

  Shane grunted.

  ‘There you go,’ said Lorraine. ‘Things alright at home, Ruby?’

  Ruby shrugged and sipped her can of cola.

  ‘You gettin’ on with your mum?’

  ‘For now. See how long that lasts.’

  ‘School starts tomorra.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What’s she say about you stayin’ on to get the HSC?’

  ‘Oh, you know: why bother going to school if you can get a job? That’s her mantra.’

  ‘I got one of Minty’s old school shirts for you, Sam,’ said Lorraine. ‘We’ll go up tomorrow. Get you enrolled.’

  Sam didn’t respond. Ruby raised her eyebrow at him with a smirk.

  ‘When I win the World Title, I’ll employ you as my weather­man,’ Minty said. ‘You can tell me where the breaks are. We’ll get choppered in.’

  There was a knock at the door and Lorraine made a face. ‘Who the hell is that?’

  Minty and Shane didn’t respond, their eyes turned back to the television. Lorraine kicked Shane in the ankle.

  ‘I’m watching this!’

  ‘I don’t care, get the door.’

  Shane got up and lumbered over to the front door. He opened it and stood gawping for a few moments.

  ‘Well? Who is it?’

  A voice sounded through the flyscreen. ‘Hello, love.’

  Lorraine got to her feet, went over and peered out into the darkness. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glanced over at them in front of the TV. ‘Stay there,’ she ordered, going outside. She shut the front door behind her.

  Minty stopped chewing and looked at Shane, who was still standing and staring at the closed door.

  ‘What?’ asked Minty.

  ‘It was Nana.’

  Minty put his bowl down and jumped up. He pushed the venetian blinds on the kitchen window up and looked out.

  ‘Your nana’s here?’ asked Ruby. ‘Thought she was dead.’

  ‘She is to Mum,’ Shane said. He looked to Sam. ‘You know she was down here?’

  ‘No, well, yeah. She showed up at the point the other day.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell Mum?’ Shane was red in the face. ‘Why the eff not?’

  ‘I dunno. Didn’t know she’d turn up here.’

  ‘What she say?’ Minty asked.

  ‘Not much. Pop was an arsehole and that’s why she took off. That and she was stressed about …’ Sam glanced at Shane, ‘about your dad. She was worried all the time and she couldn’t take it.’

  ‘She said that about Pop?’

  ‘Yeah. Dunno. Maybe she’s senile.’

  ‘I’m goin’ out there,’ said Minty.

  ‘Nah, brah. Stay in here,’ said Shane. He scratched his chin and watched out the window. Lorraine’s voice screeched through the fibro walls. ‘Mum’s crankin’.’

  The front door was yanked open and Lorraine came storming in, slamming the door behind her. She crossed the kitchen. ‘What you all looking at?’ She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the cupboard above the stove and shook one into her palm, hands trembling. ‘Where’s me lighter? Where’s me bloody lighter, Shane?’

  ‘I don’t know!’

  She scrambled around through the drawer and pulled out a little packet of matches.

  ‘Not inside, Mum,’ said Minty.

  ‘Oh for eff’s sake! It’s my bloody house! Stop tellin’ me what to do! Christ alive.’

  ‘What’d Nana want?’

  Lorraine sucked on the cigarette and pushed the window above the sink open. ‘Why don’t you ask ’im,’ she jerked a thumb in Sam’s direction. ‘He’s the flavour of the bloody month, isn’t he?’

  ‘Mum,’ Mint
said.

  ‘Don’t Mum me. Don’t hear a word from her for years, then Rachel dies and all of a sudden she’s Mother-effin-Teresa.’ Lorraine spoke as if her sister’s death had been a stunt to get attention. ‘What can I do?’ Lorraine mimicked a whiny voice that sounded nothing like Nana. ‘I’ll tell her what she can do, she can f—’

  ‘Is she still out there?’

  Lorraine spun around and thrust a pointed finger at Minty. ‘Don’t you! Don’t you go out there.’

  ‘I already spoke to her at the funeral.’

  ‘Oh, that is the limit, that is. What she say? It was all my fault, was it? Wouldn’t take youse away from your dad.’

  Sam was still on the couch. He watched Lorraine spit and screech as she poured a glass of whisky. There was knocking at the door.

  ‘There’s someone at the door,’ said Minty. Ruby hid her laughter behind her hand.

  ‘Oh, no shit, Sherlock! Who do you think it might be? Geez. You numbskull.’ Lorraine wrenched the front door open. ‘Eff off, woman!’ she spat through the screen. Sam saw that tears were trickling down her cheeks. Nana’s voice was low and calm, like she was performing a hostage negotiation.

  ‘Lorraine, I’m asking for you to have the courage just to let me speak.’

  ‘COURAGE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT EFFING COURAGE?’

  ‘Hear me out, love.’

  ‘Don’t you “love” me.’

  ‘Hi, Nana,’ said Minty.

  ‘Hello, darlin’. Lorraine? Are you drinking?’

  ‘Am I drinking?! Of course I’m effing drinking!’

  ‘Alright. I can see you’re upset.’ Lorraine opened her mouth to speak but Nana talked over the top of her. ‘I’m in the caravan park. When you’re ready and you’re sober—’

  ‘You just can’t resist, can you? Any chance to tear a strip off me. You’ll never change. I, I do the right thing, the respectable thing and marry a working bloke and start a family and I’ve done the wrong thing, haven’t I? But Rachel? Oh poor Rachel, oh Rachel works so hard, she’s really making a go of it.’ Lorraine clenched her jaw and shook her head. ‘Don’t get me started on bloody Rachel. And then YOU! You piss off to Morocco or Timbuktu or some bloody place and I’ve got to pick up the pieces.’ Lorraine gave a sour laugh. ‘Who do you think was looking after Dad? Her, I bet. Well it wasn’t her, it was me, thank you very bloody much.’