Past the Shallows (3 page)

Harry nodded.

Inside the marquee they sat on plastic seats near the front. It was crowded and the competitors in their white t-shirts were
already standing on the centre stage of grass, checking their equipment. Harry recognised Heath Roberts. He was the skinniest
man up there, but he had the most hair – thick blond hair just like his brother Justin. Justin had been in Miles’s year at
school.

The first four men took their positions on top of the huge logs. The starter gun fired, and four sharp metal axes swung through
the air. Wood chips went flying and the metal swung and swung. It was making Harry hot, all the movement and noise, all the
metal slicing into wood. And it wouldn’t stop, the hack, hack, hack. And the crowd were grunting and yelling and a man next
to him kept screaming, ‘Come on, boy, come on!’

Harry tugged on Aunty Jean’s coat sleeve.

‘What is it?’ she said, but she didn’t move her eyes. They stayed with the axes, stayed fixed on the men.

Harry tugged harder. ‘I feel sick,’ he said.

‘Damn! Heath’s out.’

The metal noise stopped, and the crowd clapped and cheered. Harry looked over and a big bald man
with a sweaty head had busted through his log. It lay on the grass in two pointy pieces.

‘I feel sick,’ Harry said again.

Aunty Jean looked at him now. ‘Yes, you do look pale. Go and get some fresh air and come and get me if you need me. I want
to see the final.’

She turned her attention back to the action and Harry pushed his way through to the exit before the next heat started. Out
in the light, away from the noise and crowd, he started to feel better. He could breathe again. He could think about the show
bags.

Cadbury’s bags were the best. They had the most chocolate, but they were pricey. Four bucks. He bought one for Miles, and
one for himself, and he looked at the He-Man bag. It was OK, with a face mask, colouring book and a plastic belt, but he decided
it was probably better to get Stuart a lolly bag. He got a Redskins bag because it had stacks of Redskins, Choo-Choos and
Toffee Apples. He got one for himself, too, and a Bertie Beetle bag because it was cheap and came with a cowboy hat and an
orange dart gun. Then he bought two hot American donuts and a can of lemonade.

He had $4.50 left.

He sat down on a patch of grass that overlooked the water. The Tasman Bridge was a giant concrete
frame and underneath it the Regatta was all going on. Rowing races, sail boats, larger ferries patrolling up and down with
large colourful flags. Harry ate the donuts and felt good. Miles would love the Cadbury’s bag. He could give him a Redskin
or a Toffee Apple, too, if he wanted.

He saw one of the animal sheds and decided to go in. He wanted to make sure the chopping was over before he went back to Aunty
Jean. Inside it was warm and smelled like manure. A huge bull gave him the evil eye as he scooted by. Harry didn’t care what
people said about cows being dumb. He knew they were smart by the way they looked at you. They were just waiting to get you
as soon as you turned your back.

In the next aisle there were goats – white ones, brown ones, and a strange looking black and tan one with big ears. There
were four babies with it and above the pen was a blue ribbon that said ‘Best In Show 1983’. Harry squatted down and stuck
his hand through the bars. One of the babies ran over and tried to bite his thumb. It didn’t seem to have any teeth, so it
didn’t hurt. After a few bites, it gave up and started rubbing the top of its head against Harry’s arm.

‘They’re real beauties, aren’t they?’

Harry shot up. A tall man wearing overalls was standing right behind him.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, and the baby goat bleated. It looked up to see where its scratching post had gone.

‘You’re all right, son,’ the man said. He had a lined, smiling face. He bent down and picked the little goat up.

‘Here – you can hold it if you like. It’s an African goat. It’s called an Anglo-Nubian.’

Harry looked at the goat. It had started chewing the man’s overalls. He wanted to hold it. He wanted to climb in the pen and
sit down and play with all the goats. Like the time with Mum, when they had come to the show and they had all sat down in
the straw and a little goat came up and licked Harry’s face and its tongue was hard and rough, but its breath was warm on
his cheek and it let out a little bleat right in Harry’s ear. Harry bleated back and it had made Mum laugh. ‘I love goats,’
she’d said.

‘My aunt’s waiting,’ Harry said.

The man nodded and he smiled. He put the little goat back in the pen with the others and Harry ran out of the shed holding
his show bags tight as he wove his way through families and packs of screaming teenage girls.

‘Looks like somebody did well,’ Aunty Jean said, look ing down at the show bags Harry carried in both hands.

‘They’re not all for me.’

‘Well, just don’t eat too many lollies now. We’ll have a bit more of a look around and then we’ll go into town for lunch.
They only seem to have dagwood dogs and chips here.’

Harry decided not to tell Aunty Jean about the donuts and lemonade.

‘I
can buy lunch.’ Harry pulled out the crumpled notes and coins he’d stuffed in his pocket and put them on the table.

‘Oh, Harry.’ Aunty Jean’s eyes closed for a second. ‘You’re so much like your mum.’

She went to touch his head, but her hand only got part of the way before she pulled it back. Harry stared at the last toasted
sandwich triangle on the table. It was cheese and ham.

‘Go on, you have it,’ she said.

Harry grabbed it and started eating. He tried not to look at Aunty Jean because he knew she was crying. She wiped her face
with a hankie and took a big breath.

‘Tea always makes things better, doesn’t it?’ She poured some into her cup and added milk.

Harry nodded.

‘We’ll do a big shop at the supermarket before we leave town, but I want to get back before dark, so we’ll be quick.’

‘Can we get peanut butter?’ Harry asked.

Aunty Jean closed her eyes again and Harry pushed his chair away from the table and stood up.

‘I’m just going to the toilet,’ he said.

He took his time, washing his hands twice and drying them carefully with the paper towel. When he opened the door that led
into the café, he saw that Aunty Jean was back to normal. She smiled at him when he sat down.

The trip home went by quickly. The sun was on its way down, but there was still enough light for Harry to inspect his show
bags, piece by piece. He wondered what Miles would choose to eat first. Whatever it was, he’d choose the same.

‘Thanks!’ Harry said, and he meant it.

Aunty Jean nodded and smiled. She unloaded the shopping but left the bags by the front door.

‘Get your brother to give you a hand. I won’t stop in.’

This wasn’t unusual if Dad was home. Aunty Jean and Dad didn’t speak anymore, not since she made
Dad buy Uncle Nick’s share of the boat and he had to get another loan.

‘Here.’ She put his smaller show bags inside the Cadbury’s bags so it looked like he only had two. ‘Best not show off. Give Miles the rest of the money to look after.’

Harry was desperate to get inside in case she started crying again, but he waited until she got back in the car. He waved,
then opened the front door.

Dad was on the couch watching TV.

‘We got some shopping, Dad. It’s all here.’

Dad barely looked over, but nodded.

‘Miles and I will unpack it.’

Harry ran though the lounge carrying the show bags. Miles was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

‘Miles! I got you a show bag!’

‘Sh! Dad’s got a headache.’

Harry shut the door. He tried to talk quietly.

‘I found twenty bucks! I got you a Cadbury’s bag.
A Cadbury’s bag!
’ Harry held the purple bag up higher so that Miles could see it properly. ‘I got Stuart a Redskins bag and I got a Cadbury’s
bag, too, and a Redskins and a Bertie Beetle. You can share if you want. There’s a dart gun game. We can play it later.’

Harry noticed that Miles was holding his hands strangely. They were red and swollen. They looked bad.

‘Did you hurt your hands on the boat?’

Miles sat up slowly. ‘I just gotta wait for the blisters to heal up, that’s all.’

‘You could put fish cream on ’em?’

‘Maybe later.’

Miles went to lie back down but Harry stopped him.

‘We’ve got to unpack the shopping. It’s at the door. I’ll carry the bags, you can put the stuff away. We got six bags – we
got everything! Cup-a-soups, macaroni, Milo, peanut butter.’ Harry dumped the show bags on the bed and headed back to the
door, hoping Miles would follow.

They unpacked quickly, without talking. Harry grinned when he handed Miles a family-sized packet of Teddy Bear biscuits.

‘Another beer, Dad?’ Miles asked.

He nodded, and Miles took over a can from the fridge.

Harry walked back to the bedroom and started arranging his chocolate and lollies on the floor.

‘What are you gonna have first?’ he asked, when Miles came in.

Miles just shrugged.

‘I think I’m going to eat the plain Freddo and one Redskin. Then I’ll choose two things tomorrow.’

‘Maybe you should just eat what you want now.’ Miles sat on his bed and looked at the pile. ‘What are you saving it all for
anyway?’

Harry put all the sweets back in their bags, except for the Freddo.

‘If I save them they’ll last longer – they’ll last until school,’ he said.

He looked up at Miles.

‘Aren’t you going to have any of yours?’

‘I’m just tired.’ Miles lay back down on the bed again. ‘You’re lucky you get seasick, Harry. You won’t ever have to work
on the boat.’

Harry sat on the floor and took small, quiet bites of his chocolate frog.

M
iles kept his eyes on the water and listened to the engine. He listened to the
chug-chug
and the air pump’s whirling churn. As long as it kept pumping, as long as he sorted in time, as long as he steered the boat
carefully, everything would be OK. But out at the Friars, steep and black, seals watched the boat from the rocks where they
lay in piles half asleep. The cliffs behind were like giant guardians standing tall.