Eleven Hundred Sand Dunes Read online

  Later, we lie on the beach and talk, me drying in the sun, him glistening and sparkling.

  “I’m sorry about everything, Torrenclar,” I roll onto my belly to face him, “I’m terrified of you sometimes.”

  He’s thoughtful. “I know.” It’s a sad moment. Neither of us speaks for a while until I wonder if he’s hurt by what I said. The first impulse is to feel terrible and this lasts a while. Then I think stuff this. I’m going to face up to it. “Do I hurt you sometimes?” Dreading the answer, I put my face back in my arms. The silence makes me anxious and I have to look at him again to see what’s happening. His eyes are far away in his own thoughts, and I start to imagine all nasty things he might be thinking. Heat runs through my body. Then I sit up and put my hand out towards him, and he turns and smiles taking it in his. “I don’t mean to hurt you.” He shakes his head and goes back to staring into the distance. Not wanting the afternoon to end like this, I struggle up to sit on him facing so he can’t look away.

  He grins. “What’s this then?”

  “Talk to me.”

  “What about?”

  Frustration wells up. “How do I know what you’re thinking? How can I answer that?” I get up and sit back on my heels in front of him. He isn’t answering. He’s returned to staring across the lake.

  “When you pushed me into the street I was sure you were disgusted with me. How could you want anything more to do with me after that big mess?” My insides are knotted. He smiles. It’s such a sweet smile. Sad and sweet. “I can’t help hating you when you push me.” He draws in a big breath then starts.

  “Sometimes you have to face up to what’s in front of you. If you hate me for it, then that’s the way it is. You absolutely had to go out into the street that night.”

  “Yes, I get that.” Slowly it came to me. “The thing is, why did you go away after that? When I felt like shit about myself.”

  “You had work to do. I would have been in the way. Sometimes it’s all work. You just have to do it. Caretakers can’t do it for you. Other times, it’s time for play. Like now.” He springs to his feet grabs me and sets off at a fast sprint towards the lake. Before I can react he’s throwing me into the water. By the time I surface again, he’s back to normal. The flight home is slow and smooth, but my mind is confused.

  Four

  Josh was regaining his energy and growing restless. The note he’d left informed Juliana he was out for a walk. Impressed with himself for taking this step, he set out, watchful and wary, consistently on the lookout for Flagran. If the Caretaker should find him, his plan was to scream for help because nothing could be done in front of onlookers. It was unclear whether he would carry out the plan; whenever he thought of his red headed oppressor it was with affection. It would be difficult to denounce him in front of a hostile crowd. As he strolled along enjoying the brisk winter breeze after being holed up at the flat for a few days, he stretched, smiled and cast around for some mischief. Everybody seemed to be engaged in moving purposefully between shops, cars, offices, trams. Nothing doing there. His mind bent towards people he knew in the district, tossing each aside as he searched for a reason to seek them out. It had been days since Juliana had taken him in and a few days before that since the accident. Nothing had been the same since. His mood darkened settling on his shoulders and erasing the brief delight in freedom. A waft of colder air halted him mid stride, and a shiver of apprehension replaced the gloom. Thoughts of Sandro returned complete with pictures of the accident, the body flying through the air landing head first onto the pavement, legs and arms bent in directions they should not have been.

  Sandro had been a friend to Josh for only a brief period, and here he was unconscious, because of him. They’d been sparring that night in the manner of two young bulls in a paddock. He’d thought it was play until Sandro had abruptly slung the words about not taking him through the Simpson Desert. The intense disappointment slashed at him and connected with many similar disappointments in Josh’s kaleidoscopic life. People entered it, and he began to trust. Then they moved on, or attempted to shape him, or discovered he was a thief. It had always come to an end. Josh’s mother had died when he was twelve; just dropped to the floor with a brain aneurism. They’d been managing a tight existence until the day he’d returned from school (where he had been doing well) to find her dead - sprawled across the small room they were calling home. After her death, he was taken into foster care.

  There were men in these homes who had genuinely tried to form a relationship with Josh, but he’d held them at bay. Rather than trust anyone, he stole from them, fought with them, did everything in his power to destroy any trust. So it was with Sandro. But Sandro had made no attempt to father him. He had treated the boy as an equal, expecting trouble, challenging him, seeing him as a rival at times for Bridey’s attention. This all made sense to Josh, and he felt like an adult around Sandro; until the day when he’d been curtly informed he was to stay home and study.

  Josh, flipping out, tore off from Bridey’s backyard where the group of Caretakers were gathered. Everyone had been in a strange mood that night. This had crept under Josh’s skin, raising the hairs on his neck and making him wary. As he ran, he became aware of Sandro’s feet pounding behind him, his pursuer an extremely fit and active young man of thirty two. He had turned to measure the distance between them just as he reached the other side of the road Sandro was crossing. Intent on each other and the chase, neither had seen the oncoming car.

  From the moment of the accident, he knew he’d been the cause. Lack of food and sleep coupled with an all-pervading guilt had combined to undo him. Now, the sensation of threat was growing. Several times he turned but could see nothing. Since Flagran had come into Josh’s life after he walked out of his final foster home at sixteen and hit the streets, Josh had learnt a great deal about the spirit world. He’d developed a strong sense of the difference between good spirits like Flagran and bad ones hanging around the down and out and lurking in places like Saint Kilda’s back streets where he was walking now. He was there because he mistakenly believed Flagran would look for him in the CBD. Now, prickles travelling along his spine, he wished he hadn’t put himself in this situation, where he couldn’t call on Flagran. Shivers increased with every step. He attempted to walk faster hoping to outrun whatever it was.

  “Well now! What have we got going on here?” Terror struck as, the words sounding so real, he battled to make out a figure. “You’re in for it now.” The glee in the voice gave him the creeps. “You’d think you would have learned something from that accident. Now, here you are staying with Juliana and trying to bring trouble on her too. You’re bad news Joshua.”

  He tossed his body around trying to make out if the voice was coming from somewhere, but he could discern nothing. Obviously, he was cracking up. The voice continued.

  “You should find yourself a haunt here somewhere. Right away from all those you can damage.” He began to think the voice was talking sense. He should do that. He should stay away and not let them find him. Keep them safe. “You’re bad news, Joshua. Just being in the world has brought trouble on everyone in your life. You come from bad stuff.” His heart sank as he realised the truth of the words.

  Flagran had been on his way to the hospital to visit Sandro, excited by the signs of improvement he was picking up from the Source, when he was given a clear message to go to Josh’s aid. He appeared at the boy’s side instantly. Heat replaced the lurking cold around Josh’s body. But, rather than speak to him, Flagran’s attention was elsewhere. “What are you up to, Ravesh?” The atmosphere was changing and the voice that answered had taken on a different tone. “Just making sure he was okay, Flagran.”

  Josh, unsure whether to hang around at this point, attempted to sneak away and leave them to it when he encountered a look of fire from Flagran’s eyes and hastily changed his decision. “And how were you intending to do that?” The cold in Flagran’s voice was cooler than the air around them. He sounded strange
to Josh who was getting the creeps and longing to be off. “Aren’t you supposed to be focussing on Irri-tat’s development?”

  Ravesh experienced a jolt of fear and she paused to consider. Obviously they were now aware of her change in status. Her original intention had been to investigate how far Josh had slipped into despair, but she’d been disappointed to observe the jaunty walk. She hadn’t reckoned on the connection between the boy and the Caretaker to bring Flagran to his side so rapidly. It would have been a stupid move to do him real harm. Her intention had only been to frighten him; to feel her power return.

  “Be Gone!” Flagran commanded, a burst of dragon’s breath shooting out at her. “If I catch you near Josh again, even for a moment, you will regret it deeply.”

  “But Flagran, I thought you would be grateful to have me watch him for you, just while you were busy elsewhere.”

  He did not reply. The heat grew to dangerous proportions, and Josh stepped out of range conscious of Flagran aware of his every move. Disappointed, Ravesh turned away.

  The boy fronted up to Flagran, belligerence replacing the fear.

  “What have you been up to?” Flagran questioned him softly, light steam from the words rising in the cool air.

  “Nothing!” Josh was incensed at the injustice of the suggestion. “I was just strolling along out for air, when she came along and gave me the creeps.”

  “What’s with St Kilda?” The step closer dared him to lie.

  Josh’s outrage escalated. “I can go wherever I please.” It sounded rock solid, but inside he was shaken. Flagran angry was Flagran dangerous.

  “Answer the question.” The bright eyes with flickers of flame around the iris fixed the boy until he squirmed, hot and bothered, but determined he had done nothing to deserve this.

  “How is it my fault if that spirit decided to hang around me?”

  Ignoring this the Caretaker asked, his voice holding a hint of menace as he took another step closer to hiss into his face, “Why St Kilda?”

  “I was avoiding you!” The belligerence was courageous, and, coupled with the truth, momentarily softened the Caretaker’s attitude.

  “You know I’ve told you to keep away from this place.”

  Josh glanced around at the couples and families wandering the streets, all completely safe and enjoying the atmosphere of a favourite haunt for tourists and locals. It was not only near the beach, but had at least as much attraction when it came to food places, musical opportunities, a street market, the nearby amusement park and bike paths, kite flying, buskers, as had Carlton. The stare caused Josh to wilt and that was no mean feat. Josh wilted for no one.

  Conscious the boy had been through a great deal lately, Flagran relented. “Lucky for you I’m in a good mood.” Josh doubted this. “If ever I catch you here again you won’t enjoy my reminder. You certainly won’t forget it in a hurry.” He threw an arm across the boy’s shoulder and pulled him close to frog march him towards a tram stop, an uncomfortable degree of heat radiating in place of the cold. When he attempted to pull away Flagran’s solid grip increased. “You take my meaning?” He held the heat until the boy, forced to answer, agreed reluctantly. “You know why this place is off limits, don’t you?”

  Josh was angry and unwilling to enter into this. The heat in the arm rose until he squirmed and wriggled making no headway.

  “Don’t you?”

  “I thought it would be okay now. Those days are over for me. I’m on your side now.” Some of this was said in an effort to win Flagran over. It didn’t work.

  “How do you figure that?”

  Josh pulled up on the path and shook Flagran’s arm until it released. “Aren’t I?” he asked, deeply worried.

  “You haven’t been lately.” There was little room to move with this one.

  “I’ve been getting over it.”

  “Have you?” The words bit. “I haven’t seen any signs of it.”

  Josh became thoughtful. “Since Juliana’s place, I’ve been eating and sleeping and coming good. It was just that awful, cold, creeping feeling. It came on out of the blue Flagran. I did nothing.”

  “You were probably thinking about how to keep avoiding what you know you need to do. That would do it.” Josh flushed, and Flagran pressed home. “You were leaving yourself wide open.”

  This conversation had the familiar ring of repetition. Whenever Josh attempted to swing towards his former life, the Caretaker would raise the topic again. He did this in a number of uncomfortable ways, but the boy reacted without resentment. He was learning. This time, he felt he was being wronged. “It wasn’t like that,” he protested.

  “Yes, it was,” Flagran told him firmly. “Every time you avoid what you are called to do, you open yourself to this sort of thing. It will be many years before you can relax about it. They are everywhere here. You know that.”

  Josh turned towards the city his head down and his thoughts scattered, Flagran walking lightly beside him, watchful. The two jumped on a tram with a University sign. Because he was with the Caretaker Josh pulled out his Myke. Neither spoke as the tram reached its destination at the top end of Swanston Street, and they alighted.

  When Josh turned aside to head across the road towards Carlton, Flagran’s face fell, although he didn’t react, continuing on his way to the hospital, his pace slow and thoughtful; heaviness had crept into his step. Royal Parade was just ahead before the boy caught up with him. He’d been watching from the pavement opposite. This, although unintended on the part of the Caretaker, was more beneficial than any other input. He couldn’t bear to imagine that Flagran’s sadness might have had anything to do with his own behaviour.

  “Flagran,” he called out cheerfully. The Caretaker swung around. “I have an idea!” Silence. “How about we go and see what Sandro is up to?” He grinned. “Maybe it’s time the lazy bugger got out of bed, eh?” His reward was a radiant smile, but inside he was dreading what he’d opened up, the dark voice ringing in his head.

  Together, they made their way to the Royal Melbourne Hospital Intensive Care Unit.

  On their way in, they spied Bridey coming out for some exercise in the park. When they blocked her path, she glanced up, her face brightening. Ignoring Flagran, she grabbed hold of Josh and squashed him against her. He squirmed in a half-hearted protest. “Josh! It’s so good to see you.” She leant her face towards Flagran’s kiss, smiling at him, and updated them on Sandro. “He just said his first word.” Her smile widened. “You know what it was?”

  Josh groaned. “Something mushy I suppose… ‘Bridey’?”

  “No,” she said. “It was, ‘Josh’.”

  They stared. The boy pulled back. “Did it sound like he was after me?”

  Bridey was confused. “Why would you think that?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Josh flushed, embarrassed.

  “Josh, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “Come on. I’ll take you to him. It’ll do him good. Sounds like he’s been worrying about you.”

  As they walked to the lift, Flagran asked, “Sounds like he’s on the mend?”

  “Hope so.”

  The head of the bed had been lifted gradually over the past few days so that when they saw him he was definitely looking more alert. One side of his head was still swollen, and the bruising changed colour every day. Today it was green and yellow and fading. Bridey’s return brought a puzzled look until he spied Josh and his face lit up. He held out his good hand to him, and Josh took it awkwardly, unsure what to do with it. Flagran leant over the patient and kissed his forehead causing Sandro to look up at him and grin, but he couldn’t express what he would have before the accident.

  “It’s alright bro,” Flagran assured him, “You can fight me later.” To strengthen his point, he went to Bridey and held her close into him with one arm. Josh, observing all this, watched Sandro’s face. The patient growled just as a nurse came to the bed and told them off for having more than two visitors. “You choose, Sandro.” He was making gr
eat use of his eyes these days, Bridey thought, as she watched him ask her and Flagran to leave.

  “On no,” Josh said, alarmed. “I’ll go. You stay Flagran.” At Flagran’s stare, the young man withdrew the complaint abruptly. Left alone with each other, the awkward silence pressed in on them, Sandro struggling with speech and Josh uneasy. The master of communication with people who couldn’t talk much, this time was different. He was struggling to think of a way out, when he heard Sandro speak. It was almost inaudible. Intrigued, he leant over him to pick up the words. “I’m sorry,” Sandro was saying.

  “No, no, Sandro,” the boy was alarmed. “You’ve got it all wrong.” At the look on the patient’s face, his agitation grew. “No, Sandro. You don’t get it.” He shook his head violently, and then the words he’d been holding back for many days came pouring out. “I’ve been into some heavy shit.” He paused, shaken to find himself talking like this. “Bad stuff follows me around. If it’d been a second later that I’d crossed that road, it would’ve been me. It should’ve been me.”

  Sandro’s hand shot out grabbing Josh’s wrist, but he was weak, and the grip didn’t hold. He was shaking his head vigorously when a passing nurse, seeing his distress, intervened and, to the boy’s great relief, sent him from the room.

  ***

  Bridey

  We are in the small waiting area just off the nurse’s station when Josh comes out. His intention was to slip past us, but Flagran stops him. Gee, these guys can move fast. He’s intensely distressed and agitated, breathing heavily and struggling to gain control of himself. I have never seen Josh like this before. Flagran asks me to go back to Sandro and, with his hand under Josh’s elbow, giving him no choice, he leads him out.

  Alarmed, I hurry back into the room. Sandro’s tossing his head backwards and forwards in frustration, while a nurse attempts to calm him. As soon as he sees me, he waves her away, but she’s keen to tell me what she thinks. Her reference to “that boy” who “shouldn’t be allowed into the room again” is so distressing to the patient, it’s essential to be rid of her as quickly as possible by agreeing to everything she says. This strategy is ineffective until she announces she’s going to give Sandro another sedative. He instantly calms himself and attempts to flash his winning smile at her. It sits strangely in his lopsided face, but she’s charmed anyway.