Free One Dead Seagull by Scot Gardner Page B

ything?’Gracieaskedand
shookmebytheshoulders.Inodded.
    W espentthatnightplaying‘sillyScrabble’whereyou
makeupwordsonaScrabbleboardusingasmanyletters asyoucan.Theruleswere abittrickyformetobegin with.It ’ snotallowedtobeareal
word.Thewordhasgot tofollowtherulesofEnglish,likea‘u’aftera‘q’,notriple
lettersandthatsortofstuff.Thehardestbitformewas
thatyouhavetoexplainwhatthewordmeans,convincingl y ,totheotherplayers.Theydidn ’ t keepscorebutI
reckonIwouldhavewonthethird gamewithwordslike ‘barstola—anumbrellathatcovers
aseatinaSpanishbar’ and‘dircult—asmallIranianswordwornbehindtheear’.
OnceIgotthehangofit,itwassensational.
    De n an dI wen t t o be d earl y tha t nigh t bu t w e didn ’ t get t o slee p unti l afte r midnight . W e kep t ourselve s awake talkin g abou t th e girl s a t school . Givin g the ma mar k ou t of te n a t firs t unti l tha t deteriorate d int o discussin g wha t we
like d abou t them .I thin k De n mus t hav e go ta bi t hot becaus e h e starte d talkin g abou t th e girls ’ boobs , bum s and hai r . H e doesn ’ t usuall y tal k abou t stuf f lik e that .I like d it.
     
    W ecrammedinthecarafteratomatoandeggsbreakfast thatfilledmetobursting,droppedJesusoffatthecatte r y
andthenwewereonourwa y .Kezstaredoutthewindo w .
Heavyblue—greycloudschasedusalongthehighway
intothesun.Theyeventuallyovertookus,putting ona sho w o f lightning , rai n an d thunde r tha t ha d Baz hunchedoverthewheel.Iwatched thecount r yside
changeandIrealisedhowlongithadbeensinceI’dbeen
intothemountains.I’dforgottenhowgreenthehillswere andhowsofttheywereonmyeyes.Eve r ysooftenwe’d
movethrough astretchofroadwhereIcouldscanthe
horizonand seenolivingbeingexceptafewbirds,acow andmaybeasheep.
    ‘Didyouseethat?’Denasked.
    Icranedmyheadtolookoutthebackwindo w .
    ‘Thatsheepbackthere .. .ithadexploded.’
    Y eah. Afewribsandvertebraescatteredinthecentreof acircleofwool.Kaboom.
     
    W ehad
lunchinBairnsdale.Thestormhad
overtakenus andleftabright,steamydayinitswake.Theai r ,heavyand smellinglikemetal, mademehung r y .Bazexplainedthat thenameofthetowncamefromtwooldEnglishwords
    ‘bairns’ meaningkidsand‘dale’ meaningvalle y .Kids valle y .Hewasagoodtourguideandheknewwherethe bake r y
was.Gracieboughtvegetarianpastiesforeve r yone exceptme—sheaskedmewhatIwantedandinafitof madnessIordered akangaroo-meatpie.Ker r ynearly
chuckedandDenstartedtalkinglikehewasAboriginal.
    ‘Goodtucke r ,thatone.OldSkipp y .Goodtuckerafter
youburnallthehairsoffinthefire,’hesaid.
    Itwasgood.
    W esatonthesideofthehighwayneartheshadowofan enormouschurch.Spooky-lookingjoint ofsmoothred brick. W ehadalookinsideandafunnylittlemantoldme
offforbringinginmycanof Coke.Therewasawholewall youcouldn ’ t seefrom thehighwaypanelledinstained
glasslikeasmashed-uprainbo w .ItwasprettybutIkept thinking aboutallthedeadpeoplethat hadprobably beencartedupanddowntheaislesandIgotabitfreaked.
Denlovedit.
    T enminutesbackintothe drive,Ker r yandDenstarted fightingoverawaterbottle.Iwasinbetweenthem.Gracie
pleadedwiththemtosortitoutandtheybothhuffedand
crossedtheirarmsliketwo-yea r -olds.
    ‘Whenwillwegetthere?’Denmoaned.
    ‘ Y eah,I’mhung r y .’
    ‘I’vegottogotothetoilet.’
    Ker r ysaid,‘IthinkI’vejustpoopedmypants...’ AfewsecondslaterIrememberedit.
    ‘Canwegoback?’Iasked.
    ‘Whatfor?’
    ‘Iforgotmyfishingrod...’
    Theygroaned andBar r ypulledoverlikehewasgoing toturnaround.
    ‘Nah,nah.It ’ sallright.I’llgetalivegoatandwecan
hangitonyourhook, W ayne,andyoucandangleyour
armoutofthesideoftheboat,’Denscoffed.
    ‘ Y ou’resick,’Ker r ysaid.
    Soonthefarmlanddisappearedand weweretravelling throughheavyforestsofhuge
fur r y-barkedtrees. W esaw
wildlifeeve r ywhere:threedeadwombats,oneofthemon
itsbackinthegutterwithhischunkylittlelegspointingto theskylikeanupturnedcoffeetable;adeadwallabylying inapoolofblackenedblood;andthecarcassofabigold
kangaroothatfilledthecarwiththeheavysmellofrotting