Elena’s approach but just whined and squeezed its tail a little harder
between its legs.
Lyall heard Elena coming and stood at the door to greet her. Welcome! he said. Elena
wore her uncle’s clothes on the days her own clothes were drying and on this day
she had on a pair of creased brown trousers rolled up at the cuffs and pulled in
at the waist, and a light blue shirt with vertical white stripes. The day before
she’d cut her hair short with blunt scissors. Sit down! Sit down! said Lyall.
It was peaceful out there in the bush, you could hardly hear the waves but there
were plenty of other sounds: insects, birds, the scuffling and rustling of animals
in the undergrowth, the breeze moving the treetops, the branches creaking. Pretty
soon Lyall was talking again about the train wreck of civilisation and the lemmings
running over the cliff and all the other things he had on his mind and that sound
too soon blended with the others until they became one. Elena’s visits grew more
regular. One day at the table outside his shack while talking about the pestilence
Lyall asked to see Elena’s stigmata and in doing so touched her arm. Elena left it
there, then withdrew. A bird calling out from a tree somewhere up on the hill was
the only thing to break the silence.
Elena grew worried but she wasn’t really sure why. What did she have to fear, here
among the trees, the lake, the sea? Civilisation was the enemy, as Lyall always said. Uncontrollable Civilisation . It reaches its black tentacles a little further each
day into all that used to be uncorrupted and pure until poor nature, poor so-called Uncontrollable Nature , is herself tamed. Dams are built, rivers rerouted, clouds
seeded. We have brought low the Cherubims at Eden’s east gate, said Lyall, and doused
the flaming sword.
For a little while after that Lyall didn’t come and Elena stayed
away. Then on a warm evening sitting outside she heard footsteps on the track from
the road above the house. It was the boy from the supermarket. He was tall, well
dressed, his hair spiked with gel. Lyall’s not right in the head, he said, you need
to be careful. Elena kept her distance. If you come back without the product, she
said, then maybe we could talk. The next day the boy did and Elena made a cold drink
for them, but they spent more time looking into their glasses than they did at each
other. It’s just that he’s known in town as a crazy, said the boy; it’s a free country,
sure, but when I told my dad I’d seen you talking to him he said I should come down
here to see if you’re okay. He drawled, like his dad, and kept his feet apart. So
you’ve been spying on me, said Elena. The boy blushed and looked at the ground. Elena
blushed too. When they said goodbye that afternoon it was like small balls of electricity
had started popping in the air between them.
What’s your name? said Elena. Aaron, said the boy. He continued on up the road.
When Lyall came by the next day to say hello Elena said sorry, she needed some space.
She was sure he could understand. Aaron came by later with a box of fruit from the
supermarket that would otherwise have been thrown out. He stood there awkwardly,
the box on his shoulder. Has he gone? he said. Elena nodded. When she took the box
from him their fingers touched and again the electricity popped. Before Aaron left
later that day Elena let him kiss her.
These were the last days of summer. Lyall no longer visited. Elena had never felt
particularly uncomfortable with him, aside perhaps from that time he’d touched her
arm; he was an eccentric, sure, but in a sense so was she. She told Aaron all this,
in order to refute him. Aaron didn’t care.
Since their first kiss they’d spent every hour after school and all weekend together,
kissing, touching, and much more. In the bedroom with the curtains drawn they’d take
off each other’s clothes, piece by piece, hesitating and giggling before lying together
in the hammock. Some days
between its legs.
Lyall heard Elena coming and stood at the door to greet her. Welcome! he said. Elena
wore her uncle’s clothes on the days her own clothes were drying and on this day
she had on a pair of creased brown trousers rolled up at the cuffs and pulled in
at the waist, and a light blue shirt with vertical white stripes. The day before
she’d cut her hair short with blunt scissors. Sit down! Sit down! said Lyall.
It was peaceful out there in the bush, you could hardly hear the waves but there
were plenty of other sounds: insects, birds, the scuffling and rustling of animals
in the undergrowth, the breeze moving the treetops, the branches creaking. Pretty
soon Lyall was talking again about the train wreck of civilisation and the lemmings
running over the cliff and all the other things he had on his mind and that sound
too soon blended with the others until they became one. Elena’s visits grew more
regular. One day at the table outside his shack while talking about the pestilence
Lyall asked to see Elena’s stigmata and in doing so touched her arm. Elena left it
there, then withdrew. A bird calling out from a tree somewhere up on the hill was
the only thing to break the silence.
Elena grew worried but she wasn’t really sure why. What did she have to fear, here
among the trees, the lake, the sea? Civilisation was the enemy, as Lyall always said. Uncontrollable Civilisation . It reaches its black tentacles a little further each
day into all that used to be uncorrupted and pure until poor nature, poor so-called Uncontrollable Nature , is herself tamed. Dams are built, rivers rerouted, clouds
seeded. We have brought low the Cherubims at Eden’s east gate, said Lyall, and doused
the flaming sword.
For a little while after that Lyall didn’t come and Elena stayed
away. Then on a warm evening sitting outside she heard footsteps on the track from
the road above the house. It was the boy from the supermarket. He was tall, well
dressed, his hair spiked with gel. Lyall’s not right in the head, he said, you need
to be careful. Elena kept her distance. If you come back without the product, she
said, then maybe we could talk. The next day the boy did and Elena made a cold drink
for them, but they spent more time looking into their glasses than they did at each
other. It’s just that he’s known in town as a crazy, said the boy; it’s a free country,
sure, but when I told my dad I’d seen you talking to him he said I should come down
here to see if you’re okay. He drawled, like his dad, and kept his feet apart. So
you’ve been spying on me, said Elena. The boy blushed and looked at the ground. Elena
blushed too. When they said goodbye that afternoon it was like small balls of electricity
had started popping in the air between them.
What’s your name? said Elena. Aaron, said the boy. He continued on up the road.
When Lyall came by the next day to say hello Elena said sorry, she needed some space.
She was sure he could understand. Aaron came by later with a box of fruit from the
supermarket that would otherwise have been thrown out. He stood there awkwardly,
the box on his shoulder. Has he gone? he said. Elena nodded. When she took the box
from him their fingers touched and again the electricity popped. Before Aaron left
later that day Elena let him kiss her.
These were the last days of summer. Lyall no longer visited. Elena had never felt
particularly uncomfortable with him, aside perhaps from that time he’d touched her
arm; he was an eccentric, sure, but in a sense so was she. She told Aaron all this,
in order to refute him. Aaron didn’t care.
Since their first kiss they’d spent every hour after school and all weekend together,
kissing, touching, and much more. In the bedroom with the curtains drawn they’d take
off each other’s clothes, piece by piece, hesitating and giggling before lying together
in the hammock. Some days
Similar Books
