Название: Wrath
Автор: Anne Davies
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Учебная литература
isbn: 9780992590086
isbn:
I flick my eyes across to that King Brown kid and notice that even he goes through the motions quickly. He might be called King Brown, but he’s still just a trapped worm in here like me.
CHAPTER THREE
We file back to our cells. I notice that the boys pretty much all go into their cells in pairs except me and a few others. That Brown kid goes in alone, I see. The guard closes my door, and I lie down. I start thinking about the kids I talked to. Had any of them done anything as bad as what I did? I don’t really want to know, do I? I just don’t want to get connected to people again—just you. I know you’ll always be there. But my mind is jumping around. I’m not in the mood to write. I just want to go over everything that happened. Does it mean all my meals will be out there now? Can’t write now, mind too jumpy.
*
I’ve calmed down a bit now. Guess it was just being amongst people after being alone for so long. Better that I’m on my own.
I guess when I was about seven or eight, things changed. Not so many cars came to our place anymore, and Dad didn’t get many calls for work. He got quieter and quieter and stayed out in his shed longer but didn’t seem to want to talk when I hung around. He and Mum didn’t seem to talk together anymore either.
One night, we were sitting silently at the table eating soup. Mum sat at one end of the table, Dad sat at the other, and Katy and I sat in-between them. There were no jokes, no talking—just the slow ticking of the clock on the wall and the sounds of us eating. Each time I swallowed, I made a strange gulping sound. My throat seemed to be closing instead of opening to take in my food, and the sound seemed so loud in the quiet room.
“Eat properly, Luca!” Dad said, his thick eyebrows lowering.
“Leave him alone! He’s just trying to eat. Don’t take your bad mood out on him!” Mum’s voice was shaking—with what, I didn’t know. Anger? Fear? It wasn’t worth all this. Dad hadn’t really growled at me.
Turning slowly towards Mum, Dad put his spoon down deliberately. “My bad mood, is it? What am I supposed to be like when all my business has gone down the tubes? Should I maybe do a little dance for you? Should I laugh and sing about how all the people I know here, people I grew up with and thought were my friends, have stopped bringing their cars to me to fix because they can save $20 by going to Cants?”
Dad’s voice had been getting louder and faster as he spoke, and as he spat out the word ‘Cants’, he slapped his hand down onto the table. The plates all jumped and clinked, and Katy’s soup bowl tipped and hot soup slopped out onto the table, bits of carrots and celery clumping in a mound on the check cloth.
“Christ!” Dad shouted, turning and striding out of the room, his chair tipping onto its side and landing on the floor with a thud. We heard the back door bang shut and then there was silence again—just the tick tock of the clock. I was too afraid to look over at Mum, but Katy was sniffing a bit and I glanced across at her. Tears were glistening in her eyes, and she brushed them away quickly, her forehead crinkling in anger—at herself, I knew.
“Clear the table and then go straight to bed,” my mother said in a hard voice.
Katy and I leapt up together and stacked the plates and cutlery in the sink, and then we both went up to Mum, who sat holding her head in her hands. I thought she was crying, but when we mumbled, “Good night, Mum,” she raised her head, and her eyes were dry and cold, her mouth set in a narrow line.
“Okay, off you go,” she said, and sensing there’d be no kiss or bedtime story tonight, we both turned and went to our room. I climbed into bed silently. Usually, Katy and I would chatter away to each other about school, but not tonight. I lay there feeling agitated but not really wanting to think about it. We both switched off our bedside lights at the same time, and then there was silence. Katy’s bed creaked, I heard her bare feet whispering over the boards, and I opened the blankets for her to slide in beside me. She snuggled into my back without a word, and then we were asleep.
Dad didn’t come home the next night, but the next day when we got home from school, we saw his car. Wordlessly, we dropped our bags and ran inside. He was sitting with Mum. Katy ran up to him and hugged him, and he swung her onto his lap then pulled a chair close to him for me. I sat down, and Mum jumped up to get us something to eat.
“Well, kids, there’s something I’ve got to tell you. I’ve got a job driving a truck. I’ll be driving all over the place from right up north and east as far as Kalgoorlie all through the wheat belt down to Perth.” He stopped, and my mind raced.
“But when will you be home?” I rasped, my throat dry. He glanced at my mother, and she turned away, her mouth in that thin, hard line again.
“I won’t be home that much, Luca. Maybe every couple of weeks.”
Katy started to cry. “But I want you home all the time!” she sobbed. “Why can’t you just fix everybody’s cars and stay home?”
“Because no one wants me to do that anymore, Katy. There’s a new big place opened up in Dongara, and it’s got lots of fancy things for checking people’s cars. It’s got computers and lots of cheap parts, and they even sell petrol.” His face hardened. “All I can do is fix cars.” He was silent for a minute, and then his face brightened and he said, “It’ll be fine. I’ll be able to bring you things from Perth, and we’ll have great fun when I’m home.”
“I don’t want anything from Perth. I just want you,” I said, my voice quivering in a way I hated. I sounded like a baby.
“Well, Luca, that’s the way it’s going to have to be from now on. You’ll be the man of the house while I’m not here, so I want you to help Mum as much as you can and look after your sister. And Katy, you’re the same age as Luca, so you need to do your bit too. Do everything Mum tells you and don’t make everyone feel worse by crying. You’re getting to be a big girl now. You don’t see Luca crying, do you?”
Katy lowered her head and shook it slowly.
“That’s my girl,” Dad said, hugging her. “It won’t be forever. I’ll figure something else out later on, but for now, that’s the way it’s got to be.”
The next morning when we got up for school, he was gone. Mum was quiet, and Katy and I bolted down our breakfast, stuffed our lunchboxes in our bags and left.
School was about a 30-minute walk down the road. Dad had promised us a bike each for our birthday, but for now we walked. I was desperate for a bike. I already knew how to ride from trying other kids’ bikes, but Dad said we needed to be eight first because then we’d be old enough to remember to be careful on the roads. There wasn’t much traffic, really, but when the trucks came through, carrying sheep or machinery, they would thunder through, only slowing down when they veered off onto the side road that bypassed the town and then curving back onto the main road once it was past. No one had thought to take that road as far as the school, so it could be a scary place to be when a truck hurtled through.
The road was only gravel, and it was easy to skid, so all the kids knew to jump off their bikes and push them right off to the side into the dirt when they heard a truck coming. Other smaller roads joined the main one on the way to school, so Katy and I would only walk for a minute or two before other kids would come down those roads and join СКАЧАТЬ