The Sound of Whales by Kerr Thomson Page A

door he lifted a pair of his father’s muddy boots from the step, waiting to be cleaned. He tied the laces together and strung them through the straps of his backpack. Hayley watched closely but he had little choice, it had to be done.
    â€˜What’s with the boots?’ she asked. ‘What’s in the bag?’
    â€˜Some things I’ve to take to Ben.’
    This seemed to satisfy her and she let Fraser lead the way out through the garden and down the small path that led to the harbour. Dunny trailed a step behind. Fraser’s mind was racing. He had to find a way to ditch them both.
    The harbour was quiet, the only sound the slop of water against the stone walls and the cry of a distant gull. It had grown chilly and Fraser thought of Jonah, bare-chested and sockless. Wherever he came from, he would be feeling the cold.
    At the Moby Dick he could tell Ben wasn’t home. A light usually glowed through the open hatch from the cabin below. He was probably having a drink with the old fishermen in the harbour pub.
    â€˜Ben’s not here,’ Fraser said. ‘He probably walked along the beach. He won’t be far.’
    â€˜I’ve just got sand out of my shoes,’ Hayley said.
    â€˜Don’t come then. Just stay here.’
    â€˜I will,’ Hayley replied.
    Fraser moved quickly along the jetty and jumped down on to the sand. ‘I won’t be long.’
    â€˜Fraser,’ the girl shouted, ‘don’t you dare leave me here with your brother.’
    Fraser put his head down and pretended not to hear. He ran along the beach, close to the waves where the sand was firmer. He knew Hayley would march Dunny straight back to his parents and he would be in deep trouble. But that was a worry for later.
    When he reached the cliff Jonah emerged warily from his cave, as if he expected a squad of policemen, the coastguard, or Fraser’s father at the very least.
    â€˜You are alone,’ he said. His sigh of relief was followed by a gentle smile of gratitude.
    He pulled on both sweatshirts and devoured the cold food, taking greedy mouthfuls as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Fraser sat on a rock and watched him, wondered again who he was and where he was from.
    A clatter of stones made Fraser spin around and there was Hayley Risso standing in the half-light, a dumbstruck look on her face.
    â€˜What are you doing here?’ he said.
    The girl didn’t answer, asked instead, ‘Who is that ?’
    Jonah glanced around him, a fearful look back on his face, his body tensed to fight or run. ‘You promised you would come alone.’
    â€˜I did. She followed me.’ Fraser turned to the girl. ‘Why do you keep following me?’
    â€˜Don’t flatter yourself,’ she growled. ‘I refuse to be abandoned at the harbour with your little brother.’
    â€˜Dunny, where is he?’
    â€˜He was right behind me.’
    â€˜Great. You’re here and Dunny’s lost.’
    â€˜What was I supposed to do?’
    â€˜You should have stayed where you were.’
    â€˜And you shouldn’t have run away.’ Hayley looked at the large man who was standing in a sweatshirt too small for him, holding a plastic dish in one hand and a fork in the other. ‘Who is this guy?’
    â€˜This is Jonah.’ He faced the man. ‘Jonah, this is Hayley. She followed me here. I’m sorry.’
    â€˜Can she keep a secret?’ Jonah asked.
    â€˜Yes, I can keep a secret,’ Hayley said.
    â€˜You are American.’
    â€˜Yes, I am. And where are you from?’
    The man’s eyes darted from Fraser to Hayley and back again, seemingly weighing up the danger of telling them more. Finally he sighed and said, ‘I am from Lesotho, a small country in Africa.’
    â€˜I knew it!’ said Fraser. He repeated the word. ‘Le-su-tu.’ He recognized the name, remembered it was pronounced differently from how it was spelt. He