Bethany looked smooth and bored, like her mother. They talked to each other in low voices, ignoring Ellie and David and Sadie. Sadie could see Lachie trying to catch her eye, but she refused to look at him. She wished more than ever that she’d never shown him the stones.
Toward the end of dinner, Sadie heard Craig say to Lachie, ‘If we don’t start winning games, we’re looking at a merger. Maybe not next year, but the year after for sure. No one wants to play for a losing team. Damn shame to see the club disappear after a hundred and twenty-odd years.’
‘We need a new coach,’ said Lachie. ‘Sorry, Dad, but it’s true. Vic’s useless.’
Ellie leaned over and rapped her spoon on the table to catch Craig’s attention. ‘You looking for a coach for the Magpies?’
‘We could use someone to help Vic out,’ admitted Craig. ‘He was great, twenty years ago, but he’s a bit past it now.’
Ellie smiled. ‘David can coach.’
‘Is that right?’ Craig shifted in his chair and stared at David.
David shot Ellie a frowning glance. ‘Used to coach in Mildura,’ he said reluctantly. ‘But that was a long time ago.’
‘Produced some great players, your lot.’ Craig swigged his beer. ‘Bloody geniuses, some of them.’
‘I’m not that good,’ said David.
‘Can’t take discipline, though, that’s the trouble,’ said Craig. ‘Brains aren’t wired up that way. Brilliant, quick, amazing skills, but unreliable. Can’t turn up to training week in, week out. No commitment, no discipline.’
David said, ‘I had enough discipline to make it all the way through a uni degree.’
His eyes and Craig’s locked for a moment.
‘I had family problems.’ Craig’s jaw jutted out. ‘My father died unexpectedly. I had to come home and run the farm.’
‘Had some unexpected deaths in my family, too,’ said David. ‘Brothers, cousins.’
Craig shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘What I said – no need to take it personally.’
‘I didn’t.’
Craig set down his beer and leaned forward. ‘Talking of family, how’s your nephew settling in?’
‘You mean Walter? Fine, thanks.’
‘Yeah? Only I heard he’s making it tough for himself. Telling lies, picking fights, making trouble . . . Won’t make friends that way, not round here.’
Ellie’s eyes flashed. ‘Walter’s a great kid. If any- one’s been picking fights, you can bet it’s not him.’
Craig said blandly, ‘Just telling you what I’ve heard. My mistake.’
Lachie ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck.
‘He’s come here to make a fresh start,’ said Ellie loudly. ‘It’s a shame some people won’t let him do that.’
‘Ellie. Let it go,’ David murmured.
Ellie laid down her knife and fork. ‘Isn’t it interesting how black boys make trouble, but white boys just have accidents?’
Craig’s face flushed purple. ‘Beg your pardon?’
‘You know exactly what I’m talking about! When someone made trouble at your lake by almost drowning, because someone else had accidentally punched him in the face!’
‘Well, maybe someone else should have thought twice before she ran off with a new boyfriend!’ shouted Craig.
‘Well, maybe if her old boyfriend hadn’t been such a dickhead, she wouldn’t have had to!’ shouted Ellie.
‘What?’ said Bethany.
Amanda’s face was white as soap. The whole dining room was hushed; everyone was pretending not to listen.
‘Sorry,’ said Ellie, into the silence. ‘I apologise. That was totally unnecessary. Sorry.’
Craig gave a forced laugh. ‘Jeez, you start out with a nice polite chat about football and look what happens.’
David pushed back his chair. ‘Time we were leaving, I reckon.’
Ellie groped her arms into her coat. ‘Bye, Amanda. Nice to meet you, Bethany. See you, Lachie. Sorry, Craig.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Craig. Sadie thought he looked oddly satisfied.
Bethany’s bewildered voice followed them as they pushed toward the front bar. ‘What was that all about?’
Ellie’s face was pink. She said to Sadie, ‘Wait outside with David. I’ll pay.’
‘No, I’ll pay,’ said David, and pushed ahead of Ellie to the till. Sadie glimpsed his face and it scared her; she’d never seen it look so hard and grim.
As soon as they all were outside in the cold, David said, ‘Well, at least I won’t have to coach the bloody Boort football team.’
‘Why shouldn’t you coach them? Forget about Craig. The rest of them are good kids, they deserve a decent coach.’
‘I’d rather spend my energy on kids who really need it.’
Ellie thrust her hands into her gloves. ‘You mean not white kids?’
‘That’s not what I said—’
The pub door burst open and Lachie Mortlock hurtled out like a rocket. ‘Good, I caught you!’ He had no coat on, and his cheeks flushed in the chilly air. ‘David, Dad said to tell you he’s sorry if he said anything that offended you. He said it’s all water under the bridge. And if you did want to give us a hand with the coaching, he’d make it worth your while.’
‘Oh, really?’ said Ellie, switching sides again. ‘Well, you tell him—’
David interrupted. ‘Tell him it’s okay. I’m sorry, too.’
Lachie shifted from foot to foot and rubbed his nose. ‘You know . . . we could really do with a new coach. Or someone to help out, at least.’ He looked pleadingly at David. ‘Training’s on Thursday nights at the oval. If you’re not busy.’
David looked up at the sky. ‘I’ll think about it. I guess you’ve gotta start building bridges some- where.’
‘David!’ Ellie threw her arms around him.
Sadie looked away, embarrassed, and saw Lachie watching her. He blurted out, ‘Sadie, you want to stay? The pool comp’s on tonight. Want to be my partner?’
A week ago, Sadie would have given anything to hear those words from Lachie’s lips, but now she silently shook her head. Then she realised that no one had seen it in the near dark between the street lights; they thought she was hesitating.
‘I’ll walk her home afterwards, Ellie, I promise,’ said Lachie. ‘It won’t be too late, we’ll finish up before eleven.’
‘How about it, Sadie?’ said Ellie. ‘Sounds like fun.’
Sadie opened her mouth to say, no thanks. Then it occurred to her that Ellie probably wanted to snuggle up on the couch with David without her hanging around.
‘Okay,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll stay.’ She hoped her mother would be grateful.
‘Cool,’ said Lachie. ‘See you on Thursday, David? Hopefully?’
‘Maybe,’ said David. ‘No promises.’
‘Let’s go,’ said Lachie. He put his hand on Sadie’s back and guided her back inside the pub. Despite herself, Sadie felt a thrill run down her spine.
Sadie had to force herself to walk soberly home beside Lachie in the dark; she felt like skipping along the lake-shore road and shouting to the moon, We won! We won! Giggles fizzed inside her as she remembered the looks of startled respect on Troy and Hammer’s faces. Nank had given her a hug that smelled of aftershave, and Jules had said, Not bad, kiddo. They’d even found her a beer. She’d sipped it, but it tasted so bitter she was glad to pass it on to Lachie.
And now she was walking home by moonlight, with Lachie Mortlock, alone. For once she wished the distance between the pub and her house was longer.
‘I don’t want you to think Dad’s a bad person,’ said Lachie suddenly. ‘Cos he’s not.’
‘Huh?’ Sadie had forgotten the argument at dinner; now a glass of icy water seemed to drench her insides. ‘Oh. Right, yeah.’
‘He’s just old-school, you know? He doesn’t know any blackfellas.’
Sadie could hear the earnestness in Lachie’s voice. But the way he said blackfellas ma
de her uneasy. That was a word David and Walter used about themselves, but it didn’t sound right when Lachie said it.
The joy and triumph of the competition curdled inside her. ‘I didn’t notice you sticking up for Walter and me last week when everyone was kicking us off the pool table.’
‘That wasn’t about Walter being black. You guys pushed in; it wasn’t your turn. Come on, cut me some slack. I couldn’t back down in front of the guys; I would’ve looked like a wuss.’
She wanted to forgive him. She wanted to believe in Lachie. And some secret sweetness lay in the fact that he was trying to persuade her. He actually cared what she thought.
‘Okay,’ she said, as they reached her driveway. ‘And I’m sorry my mum called your dad a dick- head.’
Lachie laughed. ‘That’s cool. Don’t worry about it.’ He flashed her his best shy smile. ‘This is your place, yeah?’
‘This is it.’
‘Okay. See ya.’
Lachie flipped a casual hand, spun round and walked back along the road. Sadie stared after him, trying to swallow her disappointment. You didn’t think he was going to kiss you, did you? she told herself savagely. You moron, you’re only fourteen . . . nearly fourteen . . . he must be sixteen at least . . . But she couldn’t help lingering, listening to the crisp crunch of his shoes on the gravel fade into the large watchful quiet of the night.
She turned and headed for the house. Mum had promised to leave the back door unlocked.
A shape reared into her face, separating itself from the darkness.
Sadie screamed, but her mouth was choked with feathers, and no sound came out. Her heart banged wildly against her ribs.
Wah? Wah? came a soft query. Is it you?
And she knew it was a crow, this piece of darkness. She could make out the dim outline of wings, sharp feathers tucked into its side, and when it turned its head, she saw the gleam of its beak in the moonlight. Her heart was pounding. What was it doing here? How had it found her in her own backyard? This wasn’t the crows’ place; they belonged to the stone circle and the dried lake.
As if it had read her mind, the crow spoke. ‘All of this country is crow country.’
Sadie nodded dumbly. There was a rustle of feathers as the crow rearranged its wings.
‘Why have you not kept Crow’s secret?’ it said.
Sadie pressed her hands together. ‘I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shown Lachie your special place. I didn’t mean to; it just happened . . . And he might have found it anyway; it’s on his land . . .’
‘His land?’ mocked the crow. ‘Waah!’
‘I’m sorry,’ Sadie whispered again. She was afraid. She wondered if she could sneak past, make a run for the safety of the house. She edged sideways, but the crow made an abrupt movement and she froze.
‘Tell the story.’
‘W-what?’
‘Wah-wah-waaah!’ The crow’s voice creaked impatiently through the dark. ‘You see what Crow cannot see. Crow wants the story.’
‘What story?’ Sadie was bewildered.
‘Waah! The story that belongs to you. You see what is hidden from Crow. Crow knows wrongs were done, but Crow cannot see. You must tell; you must do what is needed; you must finish what is left undone. It is the Law.’
‘I don’t understand!’ cried Sadie. ‘What do you want me to do? I don’t know what you want!’
‘Wah!’ The crow reared up angrily, wings out- stretched, and Sadie shrank back. ‘Do you have no Law? When a man is killed, the death must be punished. When precious things are stolen they must be returned. Are you an infant? Do you know nothing? Tell the story; tell Crow what you see!’
‘I don’t know what I see!’ cried Sadie wretchedly. Her breath was a white cloud in the cold night. ‘Do you mean Clarry? Or is it something to do with Jimmy Raven? Is that what you wanted me to see? He had a fight – he said – he said—’ She struggled to remember what Jimmy had told her in the darkness. ‘Something precious was going to be destroyed. Is that it? Tell me!’
‘You must tell! You ask too many questions. Wah! You have no respect!’
‘But—’ Sadie stopped herself just in time.
There was a long silence. Only the rustle of feathers and the soft click of a beak told her that the crow was still there, waiting. Sadie shivered. She felt stupid and sleepy and bewildered.
At last she heard the crow’s low, creaking voice. ‘You must finish the story. That is what is important.’
‘But how can I?’ said Sadie in a small voice. ‘What’s happened has happened. The past is past; it’s gone; it’s over.’
‘No, no,’ said the crow softly. ‘The past is never over; it is never lost. It circles, as the stones circle, as the stars circle, as the earth circles. The story tells itself again, memory and story and land and Law. The stones are spilled; the tears are spilled; the blood is spilled; the Law is broken. The Law is broken!’ the crow cried with sudden violence, and Sadie leapt back as the bird reared up and beat its wings against the sky, as if pieces of thunder clashed together. ‘When the Law is broken there must be punishment! This story belongs to you. You must do what Crow cannot do; go into the shadows where Crow cannot go!’
‘I don’t understand!’ cried Sadie in terror.
But the crow was gone, and Sadie was shouting to an empty yard, her words spiralling away, dissolving in white mist.
‘Sadie?’ called Ellie sharply from the back door. ‘Is Lachie with you? What’s going on?’
Sadie gazed around despairingly, but there was nothing to see except the wires of the clothesline strung across the sky, the silvery shadows, the shaggy limbs of the old mallee gum stirring in the breeze, whispering a secret she couldn’t understand.
'Are you sure you’re all right?’ Ellie laid her hand on Sadie’s forehead. ‘You haven’t been yourself all week.’
It was true; Sadie had been feeling oddly disconnected from her own life. School, Mum, Boort, even Lachie, who’d smiled at her twice at school that week – none of it seemed quite real. She felt as if she were floating through a dream, watching herself from a distance.
Only the crows seemed real, as vividly real as three- dimensional figures moving against a flat painted backdrop. The words the crow had spoken burned into Sadie’s memory. When the Law is broken there must be punishment! Night after night she woke, struggling to free herself from dreams in which she was searching, or running, or screaming out. In the dreams, she didn’t know what she was hunting for, or fleeing from, or what made her cry out. Only the sense of panic remained, knotted always in her stomach.
Even the crows at school had changed. There had always been clouds of them, rising and falling on the oval and the netball court, flapping and squawking over the rubbish bins, perched on the gutters as they exchanged their melancholy cries. But now they’d begun to follow Sadie about, hopping along behind as if they were imitating her, mocking her. They were always watching, heads cocked, their bright eyes fixed on her, and their remarks were a running commentary on her every movement. Sadie knew it, even if no one else could understand them. Waah? Waa-aah! There she is. What’s she doing now? She’s drinking water. Here she comes. Crow has chosen her. Crow has tricked her. Wah! That’s Crow’s secret!
Sadie shifted under Ellie’s hand. ‘I’m okay.’
‘Do you want to stay home from school? The art show’s tonight, remember; it’ll be a long day. We could skip it if you like.’
‘No, I’d rather go.’ Would Lachie be there? He wasn’t really the arty type.
Ellie smiled. ‘David’s coming, too. Did you know Walter’s got a piece in the show?’
‘Has he?’
‘David’s working in Bendigo today. He said he might bring home some Chinese takeaway, for a treat, and we can eat at their place. If you feel up to it.’
‘Okay.’ Sadie swung her legs out of bed. She asked casually, ‘So, will we be staying over?’ David had stayed at their place last Saturday night for the first time.
br /> Ellie hesitated. ‘David doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Not for the moment. He’s not sure if Walter’s ready.’
And what about if I’m ready? thought Sadie. You didn’t bother to ask how I feel about it. Though, in fact, she didn’t mind.
‘Anyway, it’s not as – convenient – for us to stay at David’s. He often has family staying over, extra people in the house. You know.’
Sadie grabbed her uniform.
Ellie perched on the edge of the bed watching her. ‘David went to footy training last night,’ she said.
‘Oh! I didn’t think he would.’
‘Well, he did.’
‘That’s good. It’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Of course it is. It’s good for everyone. It shows we can put the past behind us, move on, forget all that—’ Ellie waved a hand. ‘All that unpleasantness.’
‘Yes,’ said Sadie. ‘I guess.’
Ellie looked annoyed. ‘Well, I think David’s very brave. Good on him!’
‘Good on him,’ echoed Sadie.
But the anxious knot stayed tied in her stomach. Sadie wasn’t sure that the past could be so easily forgotten.
The artworks were hung around the walls of the community centre that stood between the high school and the sports ground. Parents and students eddied slowly, a hum of conversation rising to fill the cavernous space.
‘Is this your painting, Walter?’ Ellie stared at the label beside it.
‘You sound surprised.’ David grinned at her. ‘What did you expect, a dot painting?’
‘No, I – oh, shut up.’ Ellie gave him a playful push. ‘It’s really good, that’s all. It’s great, Walter. I didn’t know you were such an artist.’
‘Thanks,’ mumbled Walter.
Sadie gazed at the portrait of the old Abori- ginal woman. She had a deeply wrinkled face and wispy white hair. But her eyes were deep and dark, unfathomable.
‘Is she your grandmother?’ asked Ellie.
Walter shook his head. ‘Auntie Lily. She lives here in Boort too.’