Ghost Bird Read online

  A spit ball hits my hand. I ignore it and my annoying twin.

  ‘Don’t be mad, Tace,’ she whispers.

  Irritated, I flip a page I haven’t read yet and tuck my hand back into my lap. We’ve been giving each other the cold shoulder all morning but she’d caved after lunch and has been pestering me ever since. We both ignore the other person in detention with us.

  Sam Miller had walked into the office not long after us. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Mad May’s great-nephew, he’s the one who always goes to get her because he can keep her calm. The only boy left in year twelve, Sam has been in the same grade as us since preschool. Thirteen years of schooling and for most of that time we kept our distance. At school we can be civil, outside those gates he’s a Miller and we’re Thomsons. Sam never seemed that bad to me and Laney, but we’d never admit it to anyone else. As usual he picked the desk furthest away from us but I could see him, out of the corner of my eye, bent over his own book. It looked like he might’ve fallen asleep.

  ‘It’s your own fault, you know.’ Another spit ball from Laney but this one hits my neck. I keep pretending to read.

  ‘You’d have been on time if you hadn’t dragged me in, Tatas.’

  Right, that’s it!

  Whipping my hands out from under the desk, the rubber-band I’ve been carefully stretching goes flying. Bullseye! Direct hit fair on her forehead. Laney freezes in a second of shock and we both bust out laughing. Sam must’ve seen it because his shoulders are shaking.

  ‘What’s going on over there?’

  Wells gives us the evil eye from his desk.

  ‘Nothing, Sir.’

  We put our heads down and try not to giggle. A few minutes of silence tick past before I feel her stare again. Looking up I cock an eyebrow and she smirks back.

  ‘Can you cover for me tonight?’ Laney asks.

  ‘Why, what are ya doin?’

  She smiles. ‘Better you not know, liddle sista.’

  I do my best impression of Mum’s disapproving tight-lipped look. All it does is make her giggle.

  ‘Nah nuthin, I just wanna see Troy.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Gorn then, go hang around with Dickhead and leave me to Mum.’

  I’ve told her heaps of times exactly what I think of Troy but it didn’t stop her so I don’t bother anymore. Didn’t mean I was gonna be nice about it.

  ‘Leave ya to your books ya mean.’ Her lip curls in a sneer and all the fun drops out of the air. ‘I don’t know why you bother with the white man’s education, sista, what they gotta teach us in ere isn’t real life. We gotta fight the system, not take part in it.’

  I turn my glare on her and there’s no play in this one either.

  ‘Don’t start that shit with me. Next thing you’ll be talkin native title. What’s that ever done but tear us mob apart?’

  ‘And what’s education ever done but lifted one of us above the others? You’ve never been that selfish, Tace.’ She hisses this at me and I can feel the four-letter words jumping up my throat.

  We glare at each other, ready to go to war, but duck our heads down again as old Wells comes around from his desk to eyeball us. It’s an old argument and so familiar we can keep going using hand signals, mostly rude ones. She’ll never convince me she’s right, no matter how much she tries.

  Laney had been talking like a reject from the Black Panther Party since she hooked up with Troy last year. It’d started off subtle at first, but now there are times when I swear she hates white people. Mum never taught us to be like that. She always said we’d been through too much, had too much of that shit put on us and knew how bad it hurt to go dishing it out on someone else. Mum hasn’t noticed Laney’s new attitudes yet, but when she does Laney and Troy both better look out. It is a satisfying thought. Alana Thomson could send grown men running with that sharp tongue of hers.

  Laney takes off straight after Wells releases us. Watching her climb into her man’s car, that same bad feeling from this morning stirs my guts. A snippet of a dream flickers, something about Laney screaming. Goosebumps race over my flesh. Troy barely waits for her door to close before spitting gravel. Dickhead knows what I think of him, no way would I get in his car and no way he’d offer. Still, that feeling sits there. I almost whisper a request for Nan to keep Laney safe before I stop myself. Feeling depressed, I head home.

  Walking up to the house I spot Troy’s goonang-brown rusted bomb and frown. If word got out he was parked outside our place Mum’d be on the war path. What does Laney think she’s doing?

  I glare at the cocky moron, who has the balls to smile at me. Lip raised in a sneer I make it to the front door in time to bar Laney from leaving.

  ‘Givin up on sneakin round?’

  She rolls her eyes and shoves me. ‘I forgot somethin. Now get out of the road before someone sees us.’

  I stay where I am for a moment, trying to get her to look at me. She’s out of her uniform in shorts and a t-shirt, but she won’t meet my eyes. She just keeps right on shoving. In the end I have to back off. It isn’t like I have a choice, I can’t force her to tell me, especially on a gut feeling. Watching her run outside, something bothers me. It’s only after she drives off that I realise she hadn’t been carrying anything.

  The churning inside worsens and for no reason I can explain I go and stare into Laney’s room. Aside from the usual mess with her port and discarded uniform now resting on top, there isn’t anything to see. But something feels wrong. Shaking my head at my imagination, I go to my room to change out of my sweaty clothes.

  The Night Of

  Turns out there isn’t any need for a cover – Mum pulls another double shift at the hospital so I get to be on my own. I don’t mind the alone bit, but I’m always worrying over Mum. The hospital is understaffed, staff underpaid and fast turning into an old people’s home without the long-term care facilities. Mum is one of just two Assistants-in-Nursing in the town, and she always says with two teenage girls to support she has to take what she can get. It is better pay than what she’d get out on the orchards, but not by much. Some weeks, if a new nurse is in town, Mum barely gets any shifts.

  If Mum knew how much Laney was off with Troy she would crack, but her crazy shifts mean she isn’t around enough to notice. Mum has always been strict. We are the only kids our age with a curfew; some of the younger kids stay out later than us. Uncle Joe stepped in last year and talked her into loosening the reins a bit. At least now we’re allowed out on the weekends, up till midnight anyway. Weeknights we’re supposed to be home before full dark, homework done and early to bed. Even with the extra freedom Laney keeps pushing the boundaries; it’s been worse since she got with Troy.

  When Mum calls to check on us I’m parked on the couch watching Charmed and make out Laney’s in her room doing her own thing. No matter the shift she always checks in. I rush her off the phone by telling her I got detention for being late. Her guilt has her hanging up the phone quick. I finish Charmed and do some channel surfing – all two of them we can get in this house – and give up when all they want to talk about is the Sydney Olympics next year. Boring! Collapsing into bed after a quick sandwich and some study (just to get ahead), I close my eyes and imagine all the places I’ll see and waters I’ll dive in once I’m a marine biologist. Stuff swimming with dolphins, I want to get out there with killer whales.

  Big saltwater dreams for my little freshwater Murri, Nan had always said with pride. Rolling over to throw her voice out of my head, I pass out.

  Racing through the bush, scrub whips my legs. Stepping high over the layers of leaves, branches and bark that coat everything, I can’t escape it entirely. Every step sends out a scream of sound. I can’t hear the others. The plan was to split up if they found us so why do I feel like they’ve abandoned me?

  Dogs howl over the shouts of men. I’m running through ironbarks that give no cover.
Torchlights flash through the trees – they can see me. A loud crack and wood splinters.

  Holy shit, they’re shooting!

  ‘Go low and zigzag!’ Troy’s words fire through my head. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I double over and force myself to dodge erratically. Hurtling through the trees, I’m moving away at a much slower pace now.

  The torchlights wave randomly. They’ve lost my position.

  I duck behind a big tree and press my back to the rough bark. Gulping breaths as quietly as I can, I watch the beams of light dance in the trees around me. They keep jerking like the people controlling them are running. Straight towards me. My heart tries to fight its way out of my chest. I force myself to wait.

  Listening to the crunching footsteps getting closer I stare up into the face of the nearly full moon. I told Troy we should have waited. It was too soon since we last raided this place and the light of the moon would make us sitting ducks. Bet he wishes he’d listened now.

  ‘Where the fuck did he go?’

  ‘He’s gotta be close.’

  Off in the dark the dogs set to howling and shouts of excitement ring out. My pursuers stop.

  ‘Come on!’

  ‘But we saw someone—’

  ‘I told you it was just a big roo. But you can keep chasin it if ya want; I’m gettin some of the real action.’

  More steps but this time in the opposite direction; the remaining man curses a blue streak. I squeeze my eyes shut. He starts running and it takes a few moments for me to realise his footsteps are moving away. Releasing a shaky, silent breath I try not to gasp in much needed air. Relief and guilt course through me. I was safe for now, but at whose expense?

  Pushing it from my head, I open my eyes and wait for the sounds and torchlights to fade. The screaming dogs grow fainter. The sounds of my two pursuers soften. When I can hear only the crickets, see only the moon, I pry my hands from the tree. My crouching dash to the next one takes too long. I stop. No one calls out. Nothing gets shot. I force myself to do it again. And then again.

  Adrenalin takes over and I’m sprinting. I try not to think about who they’re chasing instead. Shutting it all out, it’s like I’m on the track again, only this time the car is the finish line. The moon is the lights of the stadium. Just have to make it to the car and I’ll get something better than gold – I’ll be safe.

  A glint of light on metal through trees signals the final stretch. Breaking out of the tree line onto the dirt track we’d found weeks ago when we’d last been here, I’m round the car, testing all the doors faster than I can think to do it. All locked.

  Shit!

  I press my head to the cold metal and watch my breath fog the window. I feel the trees press in on all sides and the eerie silence of the night finally registers. Not even a cricket is calling. Something worse than fear crawls along my skin. The bush is never silent, not like this.

  Head lifting, I put the car at my back. Movement to my right as a speckled silvery body hurtles towards me. I’m flat on the ground without thinking. A whoosh of air overhead and I’m rolling under the car. There’s blood in my mouth from biting my tongue. Terror rips through my gut and tries to crawl out of my throat.

  A ghost bird. A fucking ghost bird swooping me.

  I lie there trying to see out all sides of the car while keeping my movements silent. Tace says that all the old stories are just superstition. Tawny frog mouths aren’t messengers. If she was here though I bet she’d be under the car with me. Some things are just ingrained.

  A scrape on leaves to my left. Whipping my head towards it, my whole body jumps as though stung.

  Like turning off the mute button on the TV, the crickets start calling, sound returns to the world and I can hear it all now.

  ‘Psst.’

  I tip my chin up so fast I whack my head on the undercarriage.

  ‘Ya idiot!’ I’m swearing but I’m still whispering it over his chuckles.

  Troy grins at me from where he’s kneeling at the front end of the car, bent over to see where I’ve squeezed myself.

  ‘Lookin for these?’ He dangles the car keys and laughs like we’re not on the run.

  ‘Keep it down!’

  He laughs harder and holds his hands out to me.

  ‘What for? We left those pricks behind ages ago. Besides, this is our land; no one can catch us out ere.’

  I’m about to unleash on him when I feel hands clamp around my ankles. It’s not like those horror movies you see where the girl gets dragged away – there’s no time or breath for a full-on scream. All I get out is a gasp of fear as I’m yanked backwards into darkness.

  I’m wrenched into semi-consciousness, fear pouring over me. I’m sure, so horribly sure, that Laney is in danger. Struggling out of the suffocating covers I stagger, right myself, wobbling my way to Laney’s bedroom door and slamming it open. The bed is messy as usual and there’s no way to see if a body is lying in it. I land on the thing, hands dragging through blankets and emptiness. My groggy mind screams its panic and I run to Mum’s room. Too late I remember the double shift and plonk down onto her neatly made bed, clutching my head. My whole body is shaking and there’s a metallic taste in my mouth.

  Coming more awake, my mind whispers it’s just a dream. It takes me a bit longer to remember that dreams aren’t supposed to have any meaning, just the subconscious working through stuff. Still, everything inside me wants to call Mum; she’d make it all better. Only Laney isn’t supposed to be out tonight. If I call Mum I’ll be dobbing. Mum will lose it because Laney’s out and I covered for her. Laney will probably show up unharmed and hungover, then she’ll make me pay. No matter how you look at it I’ll be in the doghouse with both of them.

  Feeling a little steadier I make my way into the kitchen to scull a glass of water while the kettle boils. Shocked to see the clock above the toaster say it’s only midnight, I pour myself a cuppa and banish the coppery taste from my mouth. Ignoring the voice in my head telling me it’s blood. Doing that careful tea-balancing-shuffle into the sunroom, I sit on the massive couch. A big part of me wants to turn on every light in the house but I hold off. The kitchen light is still blazing, that is enough.

  The sunroom’s mishmash of frosted and clear louvered windows give a patchwork view of the night. The mostly full moon has sent the stars into hiding and the world is a silvered landscape, giving enough light to see almost every shape but no detail. Enough to hint at things moving in the shadows. With a shake, I banish the image of a charging bird.

  A slight breeze shifts the trees and cools my clammy body. A car drives past out the front and from the sound of the engine I can tell it’s the Brown boys doing their usual lapping around town into the late hours. Like it’s the biggest place where there’s something to see. Then again, they always have the best gossip, those boys.

  It’s quiet but it’s never still here. Remembering the dead silence in the dream, I shiver.

  The weird nightmare keeps trying to play through my head in full technicolour. I hold off most of it but bits keep sneaking in, like the scariest moments in a horror movie. Nan would probably have called it a special dream, one I should listen to. School says it is my subconscious telling me something about myself. Although why the hell I’d dream I’m Laney was anyone’s guess. I can pinpoint the second I started to believe science more than my own mob. The day we lost Nan was the worst of my life but I’d kept the faith. I’d looked for the signs, waited to feel her close by, to come visit. If Nan visited anyone it was gonna be me. I’d been so sure.

  I’d spent the most time with her listening to the old stories, learning the things that Nan always said would keep me safe. There were things she promised to tell me when I was older that I’d never get to hear now, and some she’d close her lips tight about, like with Mad May Miller. I love Pop and he’s told me some great stories too, but not the ones Nan d
id. As I got older I realised men don’t sit down like that with girls, and neither do the women with boys. Just like there are some things that you would never say to your uncle that you could to your aunty.

  Losing Nan was bad – we all knew we’d lost so much more. But I knew she’d come see me again. Weeks went past, nothing happened, but I trusted in our bond. Then other cousins claimed to have seen her, felt her. The longer I waited the angrier I got, and one day I got done waiting. I turned my back on Nan’s beliefs like she had done to me. Part of me knows it isn’t logical to be angry with a dead woman, the rest of me doesn’t care.

  That nightmare, but. It felt so freaking real. Still, nothing to be done but wait for Laney to show, or Mum, or maybe the sun. Mum won’t be too much longer but that doesn’t mean Laney will get in before her. Sometimes she pushes her luck and if Mum is tired enough she’ll only do a quick glance in to check that us girls are safely sleeping. There’d been a lot of years after Dad died when Mum wouldn’t let us sleep on our own.

  We were seven when we lost him in a car accident. He’d been driving back home late after a few days out tordoning by himself. Laney had once called him a tree-killer because that was the job – going out and poisoning trees to clear land. She’d been smacked for it and told not to eat the food it put on her plate if she was so high and mighty. It was maybe the only time I saw him look ashamed. Tordoning is something most of the men in town do for different properties, sometimes in gangs, sometimes by themselves. Dad had his own one-man team going. Which is why he was all alone that night when he went off the road right into a tree. The cops said it was tired driving. I didn’t like to think about it.

  My strongest memories of him are being held close to his massive chest, which was usually vibrating with laughter at something we’d been doing. He never called me by my name, I was his ‘MnM’, short for Mini-Me. Sometimes I think my parents were idiots, fancy naming your twins after yourselves. For seven years we had two Alanas and two Staceys in the house and one communal headache. There are times I miss the other Stacey so bad my chest feels like it might implode. That’s how I’d learnt that time doesn’t heal some things, you just get used to the pain.