90 Packets of Instant Noodles by Deb Fitzpatrick Page B

gunning it. Dad said to get to the swimming hole you follow the track until you get to a hut where hikers camp at night, and the river isn’t far from there. The track is pretty easy, over flat ground, and there are small triangular signs every kilometre or so, so I know I’m not gunna get totally lost or anything. It’s quite reassuring to see signs of life round here to be honest, but I’m praying I don’t come across anyone, cos I’m not up for small talk, if you know what I mean.
    My mind roves over life at home. There’s a few memories that are particularly large, no matter how long ago they happened. It must be the quality of the sun or something this morning, but this one time keeps popping up. I’d ridden over to Craggs’s. I was bored and thought he might want to go for a cruise or something. As I got closer to his house I realised that was never going to happen. I almost veered away, to leave them all to it, but instead I pulled up along the side fence and looked over, keeping my head down, in case Mr Adams was there.
    I saw Craggs and his sister straight away.
    â€˜What’s happening?’ I said quietly, trying to get a view of anything inside the house.
    Craggs’s head jerked up. He was out the back of his place, with his little sister, Hannah. ‘Jesus! What are you, a bloody jack-in-the-box?’
    I laughed gently. ‘Sorry, was just seeing what you were up to—but I guess it’s not a good time.’
    From inside their house I could hear his old man raging, and the high-pitched shrieks of Mrs Adams in between.
    â€˜Nah, bad time. Very bad time.’
    â€˜What are you doing?’ I nodded towards Hannah.
    â€˜Oh.’ Craggs kind of shook his head. ‘Just getting her set up.’ He looked over briefly. ‘She’s only seven.’
    He was arranging some plastic chairs around an old plastic table outside, in the shady side of the garden shed. He got Hannah to sit down and then he brought over a bucket of textas and pencils and a few sheets of paper. She didn’t look at me, but I could see from the side of her face that she’d been crying. Craggs looked about as stressed as I’d seen him.
    There was a smashing from inside, like someone was taking to the furniture with an axe. Then screaming—Mrs Adams—and more bellowing, more smashing. Hannah looked at Craggs but her chin didn’t let her get any words out. Craggs pulled his chair close and put his arm around her. He said something to her that I couldn’t hear and I reckoned then it was time for me to leave.
    I turned my bike and mumbled, ‘See ya, guys. Come over if you need anything.’ There was no need to wait for an answer before riding off. I felt scared. How must they have felt?
    The track doglegs after half an hour and through the trees I can see the hut. It’s pretty sweet—there’s sun all over it and a fireplace out the front. There’s space to sleep about eight and a wooden table to sit at. It’s only got three walls, though, so it must get bloody ball-clamping at night. I reckon they’ve kept it three-sided for the view, cos the place looks down over tall, old forest. If it had four walls I reckon I’d nearly say it’s better than my joint. There’s a water tank around one side. Could come in handy if I run out.
    I swing around the back of the place, which is empty—no sleeping-bags or warm fires or anything—and find an old trail leading away. I can’t see anything else that looks promising, so I follow it. It goes way down, so I figure I’m doing okay, cos you usually have to go down to get to rivers, don’t you? Rivers are always at low points in the land, I remember Mr Hanrahan saying. Cocksucker. But hey, he taught me one useful thing: that rivers are always at low points in the land. I meander down, trying not to think about Bella or Craggs or the old man’s letter that I