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Authors: Kelli Bradicich

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BOOK: A Shot at Freedom
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Chapter Twelve

Brooke

Brooke sat on the retaining wall at the edge of the mini basketball court, watching the next worker, Carly, shoot hoops. She wondered what Josie had said about her in handover. Carly had been particularly friendly towards her since she’d taken over.

“That’s six in a row,” Brooke said, watching her dribble the ball. She could tell she’d done this before. The muscles in her arms and legs
gave a hint that she had something to offer the game and could do justice to any team.

“Do you think I can make seven?”
Carly asked, resting the ball on her hip.

Brooke stared up at the ring
. “Seven’s an unlucky number.”

“Nah.
It’s my favourite number.”  With long legged strides she warmed up with the ball, but stopped short of shooting. She deviated and stood in the middle of the court, her feet planted apart. Bouncing the ball from one hand to the other, she turned to face Brooke. “Before I do it, I was thinking I want to know some things.”

Brooke sat further back, edging
into the barked garden. She crossed her legs, like a child on the carpet at school, and leant on her knees.

Carly rested the ball on her hip again.
“I’m just curious, I guess.”


Okay.”

“What do you really want us to help you do?”

“I told Josie. I want to go and live on an island on the Whitsundays. Find a job.”

“It sounds glorious
,” Carly bounced the ball a few times. “It’s almost too good to be true, don’t you think?” She paraded around the court, still dribbling the ball. “Are you running from something or to something?”

“I have a place I want to go to and a place I don’t ever want to be again. Does that make sense?”

“Is it about a place? Or is it about handling people? Because, you know, coping with others whether they’re strangers, friends or family can be tough anywhere.”

Brooke cleared her throat, but didn’t know what to say. “Aren’t I allowed to stay here
or something?”

“Brooke, you’re not like the other kids who come through here. Your clothes are name brands and my guess is it’s not because you’ve been out shoplifting. Your parents have bought them for you. You seem pretty together. Maybe a bit quiet but a place like this can be intimidating.”

“I’m not quiet around people I know. But I don’t know many people.”

“All I really want to know is what is so important that you have to leave home
?”

Brooke caught herself
censoring the mad scramble of thoughts in her mind. “David left and I went with him.”

“But he’s not with you now. He’s left you in the middle of nowhere at a petrol station and he’s gone off on his own.”

“Not by choice.”

“Do you really believe that? Of course he had a choice. He could have taken you with him but he didn’t.”

Brooke scraped a piece of bark across the life line on her palm. “He feels bad about taking me away from home. But it was all my idea.”

“If that’s the truth, then
at least one of you has the sense to know you would be better off at home.”

Brooke shrugged.

“Does he know his mum killed his dad?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

“It could be the reason he’s running on his own. He could be completely freaked out by that.”

“Maybe
.” Brooke watched Carly bounce the ball. “It’s possible that if he knew he would go back to help his mum out. I don’t know.”

“If you went home, and you’re as close as you say you are to David, do you think he would come back eventually?”

“I don’t think he’ll go back. He’s free now. We both are. I’m not going back if he’s not there.”

“But what I don’t get is how do you know he’ll be at the Whitsundays?”

“It’s what we always talked about.”

“But he’s on his own now. He can go anywhere he wants. He might not want you to find him.”

“If I don’t go up north and follow the plan, I will always wonder what happened to him. If I’m up there long enough and he’s there too, I believe he will get in touch with me sometime and we’ll be together again. I just have to be patient.”

Carly turned her back and bounced the ball away from her. “Do you really
think that will happen?”

Brooke nodded.

“If it were me, it wouldn’t be enough of a guarantee. If it were me, I would be thinking about waiting for him at home; at least he can contact you there.”

“I have a mobile. He has the number. I know he will ring me when he’s ready. And when he does I will have a good life ready for him to step into.”

Carly stopped, and moved to the centre of the court, nodding slowly. “That makes a little more sense to me. But if it were me, I wouldn’t be hedging all my bets on a guy who left me in the middle of nowhere.”

“But it’s not you, is it?”
Brooke became aware of the tension in her jaw and shoulders and tried to relax.

Carly stepped up
to the line. “If I get this in the ring as lucky number seven, will you talk to me about the possibility of going home?”

Brooke
didn’t like her chances. Carly was pretty good at shooting hoops.

“I can make all the plans. We can get your parents up here and help you smooth things over
with them.”

As Carly
posed with the ball in one hand several metres from the hoop, Brooke’s heart began to thump. Carly shot the ball, expertly hitting the edge of the ring. It circled, teetered and dropped out the side.

Carly
tisked, caught the bouncing ball and rested it on her hip.

“Lucky number seven
,” Brooke said, quietly.

“This conversation isn’t over.”

“I’m going to the Whitsundays, and I’ll find him again. I think about David every moment we’re apart. I know I’m on his mind too. I know it. It will shock the shit out of him when he calls and I am all set up with a job and a pay cheque.”

“No swearing.”

“Did I swear?”

Carly shook her head. “This place is rubbing off on you.”

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

David

The slow crackle of leaves underfoot was David’s first hint he wasn’t alone. He crawled off the path into the scrub and froze. The stealthy footsteps had stopped. More concerned about hiding out, he hadn’t been listening. There was every possibility that it was an animal, a heavy one, maybe a goanna.

He’d read some tourist thing
in the paper once about how many goannas were in these parts. Some guy was hiking with his girlfriend and she freaked out on him (something Brooke would do), and the goanna climbed right up him. David didn’t know what it would be like to be confronted by a goanna but he decided he didn’t want to be lying down when it happened.

Dusting himself off, he stood on unsteady feet, and carefully stepped
back onto the track. The only footprints he saw in the soft soil were his. Every noise he made seemed amplified. All he wanted was to crawl inside his tent and zip it up. As he stumbled along he began to sweat on the possibility that he didn’t recognise where he was. Relief overtook him when he finally spotted the flimsy army green tent. The tension in his arms and legs left him and he felt himself loosen up as he skidded down the last incline.

On his knees, he
crawled into the tent.

“Hey.”
A girl was inside.

“Fuck.” He
sprang backwards tripping, snapping the trunk of a baby tree. “Shit.”

The girl with the vixen black hair and the
swinging hips peered out from the tent opening.

“What did you do that for?” she giggled.

He saw her dangly breasts jiggle. Shoe string straps really didn’t offer support when there wasn’t a bra.

“That’s my tent.”

“I take it you don’t have anywhere to stay.”

“I have my tent.”

“I mean somewhere dry when it rains.”

“Yep.
The tent.”

“We get real rain here
. A lot. Something you may or may not be used to depending on where you’ve come from, farm boy. Water’s going to come gushing down this hillside like you wouldn’t believe in the very first big rain cloud that comes over from the sea. And they do come over. Regularly.”

David felt his top lip curl. He hated being spoken to like he was some kind of half-wit. “Get out of my tent.”

“I’ve come to tell you, I’ve got a plan. You can work for my dad cleaning boats if you want.”

David pulled his knees up resting his forearms on them in an effort to
appear cool. “You’ve been down in your safe little house wondering about the poor little pisshead you picked up and dumped on the side of the road yesterday and decided that I needed a job?”

“Well, don’t you
?”

He
studied a jagged stone in front of him, but couldn’t wipe the stupid smile from his face. “Yeah.”

“If you take this
job, then you can clean them, and sus out the empty ones, take the keys and sleep in them.”


Won’t that be obvious?”

The girl sidled out of the tent, dragging his sleeping bag with her, rolling it up. “N
ot when you realise just how many boats I’m talking about.”

“How do you know your
dad will give me the job?”

“I already asked him.”

David watched her bum wriggle as she tried her best to roll the sleeping bag up tight enough to fit in its case.

“What?” she said, sitting back and blowing some stray hair back off her face. “Got another offer?”

David hung his head. “So what’s your name?”

“Gloria.”

“Gloria? Who gets stuck with that kind of name these days?”

“What’s yours then?”

“David.”

“David,” she repeated, nodding her head. “Original.”

 

Chapter
Fourteen

Brooke

The sun was close to setting, making the shadows lengthen across the back deck. Stretched out on the cushioned bench seat, Brooke dropped her polished C.V. to the side and flipped through a brochure about Hairpin Island. She was aware of Tyler edging his foot closer to her, tapping her leg and pulling back. He cocked his head to the side and grinned. Out of politeness she smiled back, but not wanting to encourage him returned to her reading.

“Do you think I’m funny?” Tyler asked.

She laughed at him. “What kind of question is that?”

“Well, you’re laughing. I take it you’re saying yes.”

“How do you know I’m not just trying to stay on your good side?”

His face took on a look of
mock surprise. “What good side?”

“Hilarious,” she said, flipping
through a couple of pages.

“I’m getting lonely over here.”

She tried to hide her smile, wanting to say what she really thought without getting him offside. “We’re not allowed to have relationships in here.”

“No one needs to know. Look at Natasha and Foley.”

“She’s too young for him and he should leave her alone.”

“Nah.
They’re a good match. He’s looked after her since she was twelve.”

She went back to her reading. He tapped her leg again
.

There was no option but to look up.

“Come over here.”

Natasha appeared in the lounge room
. “Hey everybody, look at what I’ve got.”

“Out here,” Tyler called. He nudged
Brooke’s leg again. “Saved by the pipsqueak.”

Natasha burst out onto the deck with bags of clothes.
“Op shopping.”

Brooke p
iled up her papers and made room for Natasha to lay out her clothes, matching items with each other. Tops and skirts. A dress. A pair of jeans.

“And I got some new stuff too
,” Natasha said, starting on another bag.

“How’d you get the money?”
Tyler asked.

Natasha didn’t look up from her
new wardrobe. “Foley,” she said, flatly.

“Well, you can give me my shirt and shorts back then
,” Tyler said. 

The worker on shift, Angus,
swaggered out onto the deck holding the cordless phone, and swinging the office keys around his finger. He dropped onto the vinyl seat with all the burn marks. “How did you get all this stuff, Tash?”

“Op shopping,” Natasha said, turning her back on h
im.

“How’d you get the money?”

“I already asked that,” Tyler interrupted. “Just making sure she didn’t shoplift.”

“She has the bags, Tyler. I can tell she paid for some of it
,” Angus said.

Natasha pouted
. “I paid for all of it, thanks.”

“How’d you get the money?”

“Who did you roll?” Tyler asked.

“My
dad put some money in my account.”

“Really?”
Angus asked. “They weren’t too happy with you the other night, when the police dropped by to deliver that caution. I had to step in as witness, remember? They left in a big hurry.”

“They’re never happy
, Angus. Who bothers asking your parents why they put money in your account. You just clap your hands, get excited and move on.”

“Maybe you need to call them
and thank them.”

“That’s one phone call I won’t be making.”

“Tell Angus the truth now, Tashie,” Tyler said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Natasha shouted.

“No swearing, Tash,” Angus said. “And there’s no need to yell. Think of the neighbours.”
              Through the windows, Brooke watched Foley pass through the lounge room and disappear into the kitchen. The fridge door squealed as he opened it.

“Hey. That wouldn’t be you Foley, now would it?” Tyler teased
. “Imagine that, you turn up minutes apart. Come and look at the clothes Tash bought from her ‘
parents’’
money that
you
gave her supposedly.”

“Tyler, shut up,” Natasha sn
apped.

Foley wandered out onto the deck, sipping a tall glass of lemon cordial. His eyes met Brooke
’s and then skipped away.

Brooke realised in that moment where all that money
had come from. The teasing from Tyler wasn’t just for Angus’ benefit. Nausea overwhelmed her. Aware she was being watched, she stood and walked inside. The rigidity in her back brought on an awkwardness in her she was unable to disguise. By the time she made it to her bag she thought she was going to be sick. As she burrowed through the clothes, she prayed under her breath, “Oh God, please…” But praying didn’t help. She began yanking tops, shorts, pants, shoes out onto the bed.  All the money was gone. 

Foley appeared at the door. “She needed clothes
,” he told her.

“I need a fare to the Whitsundays
.”

“You can go back home
anytime. She can’t.”

“I’m not going back home. Tell her I want that money back.”

“I can pay you back.”

“I want it by tomorrow or I’m going to tell the workers.”

“Well I need time to get it together. If I were you I wouldn’t tell or Tash and I’ll get kicked out and you won’t ever see it.”

 

BOOK: A Shot at Freedom
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