Free Max by Michael Hyde Page B

base. Does weird things to the water. It’s only a small waterfall but it’s got a nasty kick.’
    He realised how close he was to Mai, who was mesmerised by the turbulence. Her ear, her cheek, her eyes, her mouth – all so close to him and his beating heart. Mai slowly turned her face to his, placed her hand on the back of his neck and kissed him.

    Later, they stood outside the grocery. Mai’s mother was near the door, working at the check-out.
    â€˜Did you finish your work?’ she called.
    â€˜The library’s just closed. Yes, Mum. Max helped me. Mum – This is Max.’
    â€˜Pleased to meet you,’ she replied, placing groceries in a bag. ‘Is she a good student?’
    Max smiled. He could still feel Mai on his mouth. ‘Oh yes. She’s an “A” student.’ He turned to Mai, barely sup-pressing a grin. ‘Don’t you talk in Vietnamese?’
    Mai whispered, ‘All the time. But if I’d said it in Vietnamese you wouldn’t have known what I said. Thought you should know the lies I tell.’
    He raised his eyebrows. Looked over at the mother and said goodbye-nice-to-meet-you. Then to Mai he said, ‘You want to come paddling? I could take you up the river – you could meet Nick. Yeah, you could meet this old guy I know. Sometimes he’s a bit grumpy. Interested?’
    â€˜Sure,’ said Mai. ‘I don’t know how good I’ll be, though. I might tip us over.’
    â€˜That’s OK. You can always swim, can’t you?’

14

    M AX TIDIED HIS ROOM. Washed the dishes, dried them and put them away. He moved onto the lounge-room, picking up the papers, toys, mugs of cold coffee dregs, Dave’s bottle of whisky, a couple of jumpers, books and Woody’s ant farm.
    He was doing his homework when Dave came home with Woody, who had been playing at a mate’s place. They were peculiarly quiet as they walked up the front steps. Normally you could hear them laughing or Dave listening to Woody say something like: ‘You know when you’re thinking something in your head and you think about it for so long that you’re not sure whether you’ve been saying it out loud, so everybody can hear.’ The kid was either mad or a mystic or both.
    The key turned in the lock. Max kept his eyes on the books in front of him. Woody said a quiet hello, then headed straight for the television. He heard his father pouring himself a whisky. The fridge door shutting. The TV softer than usual. Dave’s footsteps treading up the hall to Max’s bedroom.
    â€˜Thanks for the clean-up, Max.’ Dave sat down on the end of the bed, swirling his ice blocks, looking for something in the depths of his glass. ‘Really, mate, what in God’s name have you been up to?’
    Max half-turned, looking vacantly through his doorway at an Indian wall hanging that covered a few gaping cracks in the plaster.
    â€˜I get two calls today – at work! One I took straight away, because I thought something might have happened to you. I’d just been involved with a particularly difficult birth, and I pick up the phone and it’s your principal ringing me at work to tell me our phone’s out of order! Then he tells me about some assault on a railway policeman and about your ID card being found near where it all took place. Then the cops ring to say they wanted to check with me on your alibi. Your alibi? And, Max, when did you lose your bag? I didn’t know anything about that.’
    Max stared at the rug on the floor. Dave stared at Max.
    â€˜You come home with a gash under your eye. Davidson tells me you’ve been walking around school like a zombie. And tell me, Max.’ Dave gulped down the rest of his drink. ‘What in God’s name – I can’t believe you did this: “Autumn leaves and ants. The tunnel waits for us all. Good luck’. What’s that supposed to mean?’
    â€˜I