Free Starfish Sisters by J.C. Burke Page B

the cheese but I couldn't find
any. Mum's head was beginning to nod up and down
and I knew she'd get cross if I disturbed her again, so I
decided to ask Dad where the cheese was.
    The memory got a bit fuzzy after that. I was only
three at the time. As I got older I began to fill in the
picture the way it probably happened, and now that's
how it was to me.
    Dad was on the balcony. He wasn't really asleep but
he wasn't really awake either. I must've gone out there
and somehow leant on or squeezed between the part of
the railing that was loose.
    It was me that fell off the balcony. The next morning
someone walking their dog found me lying on the
concrete. I broke my left wrist and got a compound
fracture of my left leg. It was my blood on the
driveway, not my mother's.
    A few days later my mother did die in hospital, but
not from a fall. She died in the emergency department
after she overdosed on heroin. It was the third time
she'd taken too much and stopped breathing. Only this
time the doctors couldn't bring her back.
    There was still a scar on my leg. It was tiny. It looked
like an old mozzie bite. Once I'd asked Reg if it was a
birthmark. I still remember what he said to me. He said
it was a little girl's mark that was there to remind me
that when the little girl became big, she would do
something wonderful with her life.
    Tonight, I make a pledge. I promise that I am going
to make that training team camp. I swear that I am
going to work so hard on my surfing that one day I
will be the best in the whole world.
    11.39 pm. Micki Elvich, 12 years, 352 days.
    The cicadas blasted me with their song at 6.11 am. This
morning I was on brekkie duty for Georgie but as it was
Sunday, breakfast wasn't till 8.30 am and there were no
activities beforehand.
    The early-morning air was still cool and my spring
wetsuit was down in the board shed. I took my cossie
from the line outside and snuck down to the beach in
my PJs. The other three could concentrate on their
beauty sleep.
    The sun was rising. Sprinkles of light sparkled on the
water. It almost looked like the evening stars were
falling into the sea.
    The waves were small, two foot at the most, but they
were thick and clean.
    I waxed my board, careful not to rub hard over the
dings that'd been repaired. So why did Georgie, and
now Ace, want to get me a new board? Sure, it'd be
great. And it meant the money I'd already saved could
go towards a sealed wettie. That'd make winter heaps
easier. But I wasn't sure how I felt about being their
charity project.
    'Hey.' Shyan sat on the sand next to me. 'Good to see
an early bird.'
    'Yeah,' I said, and smiled. 'How beautiful is it?'
    'This is the best part of the day,' Shyan said. 'So
peaceful.'
    'Except for the cicadas,' I added. 'But they are a good
alarm clock.'
    'So as the youngest grom at camp, what do you
think?' Shyan asked. 'Settling in okay?'
    'I love it here,' I replied. 'That talk the nutritionist
gave us yesterday was so good. I was expecting it to be
a bit boring. But I learnt so much.'
    'Good.' Shyan smiled. She had a big healthy set of
teeth. I hoped mine would look like hers one day. Not
yellow like Dad's. 'If I had to give anyone advice about
being here,' she said, 'I'd say listen and learn. There's
so much you can take away from here, Micki.'
    I nodded.
    'We'll start turning it up after today,' Shyan told me.
'Come Monday there'll be girl-to-girl contests, team
contests, strength training, lung fitness – do you think
you're ready?'
    'Yep,' I said. 'Totally.'
    'Good girl.' Shyan pulled my ponytail. 'All you girls
could have big futures. If you understand that now and
put the work in, it'll pay off. Trust me.'
    'I'd love to be where Ace is by the time I'm sixteen,' I
said. 'I mean, being fully sponsored that is.'
    'Just between you and me, Micki,' Shyan said softly,
'you could be a lot further than Ace by then. Don't get
lost in the distractions. You have to be self-sufficient
and focused to make it. Do you get what I'm