Free Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta

T-shirt and grey cord jeans and whenever I asked Hannah for them, she’d just shake her head.
    I don’t answer. “What did your dad say?” I ask instead.
    He doesn’t look at me. “I don’t know. Just that it was messy,” he mumbles.
    “How messy? What do you mean ‘messy’?”
    He looks up at me. “You know…messy.”
    I see Jonah Griggs get up from his bunk and walk towards us. “Why are you telling her this?” he snaps at Santangelo.
    He ignores Griggs. “My father cried…. I’d never seen him cry…. He told me that the Hermit had a kid….”
    I feel sick. Up till now the Hermit had never possessed a life. He was just this madman who lived in the bush. But to know that he left someone behind…And then a horrific thought enters my head.
    “Was he my father?” I whisper. “Is that what your dad said?”
    “Why would you think that?” he asks, surprised.
    Griggs grabs Santangelo by the arm. “You’re stressing her out.”
    “Why is this your business? You don’t even know her.”
    I feel my windpipe constricting and I know what’s about to happen. I’m trying to work out where my backpack is so I can get my inhaler but I realise that it’s out there with the cops.
    Jonah Griggs looks at me for a moment and I see a frown appear on his face. “Sit down. You’re going to faint.”
    The chewing gum makes my mouth feel sweet and next minute I’m throwing up mucus that is making me gag.
    “Look what you’ve done, you arsehole!”
    I can see them both glued to the bars that separate us. The retching never seems to end, like it’s carving out my insides and I can’t breathe. My windpipe feels like it’s choking me and I can smell the Hermit’s blood, the sickly sweet smell of it, and suddenly Isee it, plastered all over my clothes, and I see the Hermit out there on that day when the sun was so hot and I hear his whispers and I try to keep my eyes closed, but I can’t and there are parts of him around me and the blood smacking at my face and I can’t breathe and I can hear Jonah Griggs shouting and Santangelo calling out, “ Dad, Dad , get in here. ” I’m making this gurgling sound because I just can’t breathe and although I’m bent over away from the bars I feel hands grab hold of me, pulling me towards them. I feel arms around my chest, a mouth against my ear whispering…whispering…Jonah Griggs whispering, “Just breathe, just breathe, come on, Taylor, just breathe…just breathe.”
     
    Mr. Palmer is wiping my face. Santangelo’s dad is there as well, placing a glass of water in my hands and helping me drink. I’m gulping it down, feeling weak and pathetically teary.
    “We’re going home,” John Palmer says quietly. “Can you stand?”
    I nod. “I’m sorry about the mess,” I tell Santangelo’s dad.
    He smiles. “We’ll live.”
    As I walk past the other cell I see Santangelo sitting on the floor with his back against the bars, his head in his hands, and Jonah Griggs standing, watching me. Like he did on that station platform. Like he did those times we lay side by side on our way to Yass. Staring like he’s never stopped. For a moment the mask slips from his face, but by that time I’m almost out the door.
     
    It’s not until we reach the Jellicoe Road that Mr. Palmer speaks.
    “Hannah’s fine.”
    “How do you know?” I ask, raising my head from where it’s been leaning against the door.
    “I spoke to someone who knows her. She’s in Sydney looking after a friend…who’s sick.”
    All of a sudden Hannah has all these “friends.” Friends who have known her since she was seventeen. Friends who hand over letters. Friends who are sick.
    “Who? You don’t understand. I know everyone she knows.”
    He is keeping something from me. I can tell by the way he can’t look me in the face and that scaresme. He seems to sense this and once again I’m surprised by his kindness.
    “She calls her friend, ‘Mrs. Dubose.’ That’s all I know.”
    Mrs.