* * *
Far more urgently than had the cry of Terrible Bill, the sounds of that shot and the small secondary explosion that followed, reverberated through the neighbourhood. On Rahimi Island, Riff and Raff were in the house, calling, rushing with increasing urgency from room to room, checking under beds and in closets. On their way back from the banana palm forest, they’d passed their visitor, the kind man from the immigration service, who inexplicably was still paddling patiently about the shallow pond in their newly patched replica boat; still attempting to capture the last white duck. It was a very quick, very elusive duck, refusing his every attempt to coax her near.
Nonetheless, “Not to worry!” he’d called cheerily as they passed. “You carry on! She’ll be okay with me.” And they’d gone in, thinking, what amazingly persistent people this government of Australia employs!
Then, inside, Afsoon was not there. Hayley was not there. But there was, suddenly, the sound of an argument in the street. And as they both paused to think about that . . . the sound of the shot. Definitely a shot. Glued onto the front of a small explosion, so the sounds were almost one. From where, they couldn’t tell but Mohammed and Parisa Rahimi knew both those sounds; knew them well. They weren’t sounds a person could un-remember.
They ran first to the front window. The Ute belonging to Hayley was there. Moments ago, from the banana palms, they’d heard it start up around at Bogarts! But now it was here! And so too was Hayley! Out there with other children instead of inside with Afsoon! So surely, hopefully, we’re begging you, one in that group . . . one of those looking to the sky above this house . . .must be Afsoon! And that’s where they ran next! Into the street. And they didn’t question the need because, for so long now, running had been the great theme of their lives.
“She went off into their yard!” said Hayley, pointing at Cookie and Robert.“She went into his yard!” said Cookie, pointing at Beau the Bum.
“She went to the Less’s!” said Beau.
“She’s got the gud,” said Robert, pointing vaguely to the sky.