Free Falling Away by Allie Little Page A

still be here, Sam. And I have to live with that. Every single day. So no, it wasn’t an easy time. But we managed to get through it. Somehow.”
    “Jack, you can’t blame yourself. It was an accident. A horrific, hideous accident.” I feel absolutely dreadful, wishing I’d never mentioned his lack of surfing. Frankly I’d like the floor of the car to open up and drop me onto the concrete road below. “I’m really sorry for pressing you about the surfing. I had no idea.”
    He shrugs, a look of gloom overcoming him completely. “Yeah, it’s okay. No-one does. We don’t talk about it that much. I mean, we talk about him , just not so much about what happened. But there’s no need to apologise. I’m okay, you know? It’s been 3 years now.”
    I wait a while. “So is that why you moved? From Sydney, I mean.”
    “I guess so. Partly. Mum and Dad needed a change. I s’pose I did too. There were too many memories. I could’ve stayed. But we’re close, so I wanted to come with them. I thought they needed that. For now, at least. They already lost one son.”
    Even though I’m mortified, part of me is pleased. Not that his brother died of course, just that we’re talking. About something so unbelievably significant. Vital in fact, to knowing who Jack is. That he trusts me enough to tell me. That he wants to tell me.
    “What was his name?”
    “Charlie. But his surfing mates called him Chief. As in, boss of the sea.” His face lights up at the memory. “He was three years older than me and I always wanted to be just like him. Ever since I was little I used to surf with him pretty much every day. Before school, after school. Any chance we got. But since he died ... not once. Haven’t been in.”
    I pause, finding it difficult to believe. “Not at all? For three years? Not even a swim?”
    “Nah, mate. Can’t face it. It just gives me the heebies. The ocean took my brother’s life. I haven’t forgiven it yet. So I prefer to sit and watch. I don’t mind the bay, or the river. Fishing’s cool, even in the ocean. Just no desire to get in.”
    “Gee,” I say. “Do you think maybe one day...?”
    He frowns. “Possibly. But for now it feels like I’d be betraying him. He loved it so much. So if he can’t do it anymore, I feel I shouldn’t either. I s’pose that doesn’t make much sense. It’s not rational really, is it? I do realise that.”
    I wonder how he always seems happy. So together. His sunny smile and the warmth he emits. His dad, too. The resilience astounds me. Finding buoyancy in the depths of despair.
    Fake Uluru bypasses us in a blur. I close my eyes to block the image of The Rock; an ugly orange blemish on the landscape, sweeping past us as we drive. The road curves right, and the turning lane for Tea Gardens rushes abruptly up at us. Jack flicks on the indicator and we cross traffic speeding south. Surprisingly, the rain has cleared. The clouds are lifting like blinds on a window, revealing the deepest blue beneath.
    I want to know how he did it; how he survived the burning pain. A sharp pang twists in my gut. For him. For what he went through. What he still goes through. Even now. And I want to ask more, but it seems silence is necessary.
    Ten minutes later Jack pulls into our driveway. I’m pleasantly surprised he knows where I live, but then this is a small town. Everyone knows where we live. He leaves the engine running; a sign he doesn’t want to linger. I consider inviting him in, but think better of it. I’ve already upset him. He probably wants to be gone.
    I tentatively break the silence, smiling. “Well, thanks for the lift. I honestly don’t know how I would’ve got home otherwise.”
    He looks across at me, different to before. Like I’m seeing the real Jack. The Jack who hides from the world. The one who condemns himself for his older brother’s death. “No worries. Let me know when your car’s ready. I don’t mind driving you back.” His eyes appear bottomless