Free Are You Seeing Me? by Darren Groth

not fair to her. Things will be better when I move to Fair Go. Justine won’t have to save the day anymore. She will live a normal life. She will be free. And I will find solutions to my own problems because I won’t have my sister to rely on. Relying on yourself—that’s what everyday people do; that is what it means to be independent.
    Perry Richter saves the day.
    That is the future.
    Justine arrives at the table, holding a tray. She hands me a basket with my meal arranged neatly inside. “There you go. Chicken strips and chips. No weirdness.”
    I poke the food with my finger. It is recognizable. I pick up one of the strips, hold it to my mouth, nibble. It’s good. As I swallow, I turn my head and spy Justine at the edges of my vision. She has her hands fully wrapped around her burger. She also has two napkins placed over the top of the meal in her basket, like she’s performing a magic trick. And it sort of is a magic trick—I can’t see any of the food she’s eating. It’s as if the food has disappeared.
    “Thank you,” I say, and Justine winks because her mouth is too full to speak.
    For a while, we eat and don’t converse. Most of the time, I look outside. The wind is stronger. Leaves of different colors—red, yellow, orange, brown, pink—fly through the air and along the sidewalk. Seven people walk past, all of them wearing shorts, T-shirts and thongs. The river is lumpy. Justine notices me staring at the water.
    “Looks full of Ogopogos today,” she says. “All coming to see the town of Hope.”
    I wipe my mouth with a napkin, fold it, place it in the basket. “You’re not right in the noggin.”
    Justine snorts. She lifts her index finger up and twirls it around her ear to indicate she’s crazy. She crosses her arms over her chest, puts on a stupid voice and says,“Ooh, so many Ogopogos. Get me out of this straitjacket so I can have a swim with them!”
    I laugh, and then we go back to being quiet for a while. When we’ve both finished our meals and only scraps of food are left, Jus asks me an interesting question.
    “What is it about sea monsters, Pez? Why are you into them so much?”
    It’s not something I’ve ever been asked before—not by Justine or Dad or the teachers I had at school. Thinking about the answer takes a few minutes. Justine doesn’t stare, doesn’t repeat the question. She knows I need a moment to think and organize a response. By the time I am ready to reply, she’s cleaned up our table and the rubbish is in the bin.
    “There are two reasons,” I say. “The first is because they are excellent at hiding. They’ve survived for thousands of years and no one has caught them. And the second reason is they’ve learned to survive even though the world is confusing and difficult for them.”
    Justine’s face changes. Her eyes widen. Her forehead creases. Her lips pull to one side. “That’s…That makes a lot of sense.” Her face changes again. It squashes a little and her mouth stretches. I know this look—Dad used to call it “cheeky chops.” “Hiding, hey? So how come you don’t like Sasquatch and Bigfoot?”
    It’s my turn to snort. “They’re not real. They’re just people dressed up in hairy suits.”
    Justine dabs her index finger on her tongue and draws a line in the air. “Well played, Mr. Richter.”
    I don’t exactly know what that means, or why her voice sounded like a villain on TV. But there’s no time to figure it out—we’re ready to leave the Dairy Queen. And when she puts an arm around my shoulders, I know it’s not something I should be worried about.

    “MARC…MARC! WE HAD A DEAL, REMEMBER? YES, yes, I know you think it was important to call, but this trip is more important, okay? Much more important.”
    I returned from the toilet to find Justine leaning against the steering wheel, head pressed against her forearm. She is talking on her phone. To begin with, I didn’t know who she was talking to. I know now. Her face is