John Marsden - Incurable

As we got into Marlon proper, Gavin nudged me to cross the road, into a big park. He said it was a short cut, and I don’t know, maybe he felt safer in a park. It was closer to the kind of environment he was used to now. But it didn’t stop him looking around even more, getting jumpier, and infecting me with his nervousness.

If it hadn’t been for that, I would have enjoyed the walk. Marlon didn’t look nearly as bad as I remembered it, and the park was seriously nice. There was an old footy ground with a grandstand just like the one in Wirrawee, but not the kind of grandstand you see in the city any more. Then we went up a bank of fairly wet earth and down into a huge flat area where people were exercising their dogs. It was quite cool: the owners hung around in groups talking, or sat on the grass reading, or lay back and looked at the clouds while the dogs partied. There must have been twenty dogs, ranging from a thing the size of a Shetland pony to a couple of large rats. Beyond that were two footy ovals, both with kids getting ready for games, and a bitumen tennis court and an old toilet block. Beyond that was a bunch of trees and a fountain, and then came the suburb of Marlon.

As we passed one of the football teams I got the first real clue that we were back in Gavin’s home territory. A boy who was chasing a loose ball grabbed it to his chest as it bounced, and at exactly the same moment saw Gavin. He looked astonished, then said, ‘Hey, Gavin,’ in a completely normal voice, which sounded very calm compared to the expression on his face.

‘Hi Lucas,’ Gavin grunted, looking a bit embarrassed, then said to me, ‘That’s Lucas Bright.’ I think the last name was Bright. Anyway, the kid said to Gavin, ‘I thought you were…’ and then paused and switched to something safer. ‘I haven’t seen you since the war.’

‘Nah,’ said Gavin, Tve been staying with her.’ He nodded at me.

‘Cool,’ said Lucas Bright. Well, I gotta get back…’ He nodded at the team.

‘No worries,’ I said, and off went Lucas.

It was always hard to tell Gavin’s feelings, and although he looked a bit red faced after the unexpected meeting, he also seemed pleased. I was hoping it would calm him down a bit as we went on through the trees towards the next street.

The Russells were two and a half blocks away. Once we’d left the park we got into a part of Marlon that was more the way I remembered it. Lots of shabby old houses, built right to the street, and lots of shabby new ones that didn’t look very well built at all. Half-a-dozen dumped cars, or if they weren’t dumped, they should have been. A couple of derelict houses, graffiti that wasn’t even funny, just off, a school surrounded by a wire fence so high that it was more like a prison camp. And in the middle of this was Green Street.

If I’d suspected Gavin was frightened before, then I was sure of it now. He grabbed my hand. Gavin holding my hand in public was about as common as dogs dancing with bunny rabbits. And the way he hung on to me, I’d be lucky if I still had a hand by tomorrow morning. I don’t think there could have been any more blood in it, the way he was squeezing it. And his hand felt so sweaty. When we turned left into Green Street he looked so awful that I stopped and said, ‘Are you sure you want to do this? We can go home and think about it some more.’

He just grabbed my other hand and said, ‘No, we got to get it over and done with,’ and let go again.

I shrugged and we kept walking. Counting down the numbers. 177, 157, 137. I could estimate where 87 would be. There was a row of houses that had little front gardens, some of which were pretty and filled with flowers and stuff, and others which were filled with weeds. Number 87 had to be in the middle of that stretch.

There was no-one out in front, at least that’s what I first thought. As we passed the place next door I could see that the Russells had a really nice garden, with some fuchsias and two miniature trees that looked like they might have apples or pears in summer, and a brick path leading from the front gate to the veranda. The house wasn’t the greatest though. The window frames hadn’t been painted for a long time and were getting a bit rotten, and it was a long time since the gutter on the roof had held any water. Maybe they didn’t have much money.

The front gate was open, which I hoped was done deliberately, to invite Gavin in, but then my heart gave a great flip as I realised that the front door was open as well, and above it was a big sign on white paper, done in a child’s clumsy printing, with lots of hearts and stars and smiley faces, and the words Welcome Back Gavin.

I felt my nerves fade and a glow spread from my body to my face. I know a huge smile was forming. I hurried forward, clutching Gavin, almost dragging him with me.

I was expecting to see a little girl pop out, followed by her foster parents I guess, so all my concentration was on the doorway. The dark movement from the front corner of the house took me by surprise. A thought started to form in my head, ‘Oh, they’re coming around the side,’ but then I realised there was no access at the sides of the house, and that someone must have been standing there in the shadows. I glanced across and saw a man. Gavin had already seen him.

I can remember the next few seconds as though they took a minute and a half. As I noticed the man, Gavin’s face was already turning towards me and his mouth opening. The man, who was a weaselly-looking guy wearing a tracksuit, probably thirty-five or so, said, ‘Hello Gavin.’ Gavin wouldn’t have heard this, or rather seen it. I saw Gavin’s mouth open, and it was weird, I almost read the word before my ears heard it. It was like my eyes sent the word to my brain before my ears did.

It figures. I guess the speed of light is faster than the speed of sound.

He said only one word. ‘Run.’

He let go my hand and took off, back through the gate and turning right, down Green Street, the way we’d come. I took off after him, and the man took off after both of us.

I did half shut the gate as I went. I tried to shut it completely but it didn’t catch, and bounced back, which, as I could see looking around, slowed the guy by a couple of seconds. Boy, did we need those couple of seconds. I didn’t know if he had a weapon or not, but there had been something menacing about him even before Gavin spoke. Now his eyes were narrowed and he had a look of total determination. I didn’t think he had Gavin’s best interests at heart. I stopped looking at him and raced on, swinging right after Gavin, along the street we’d taken just a few minutes before.

As I ran, the question pounded in my head: What the hell is happening?’

Gavin was ahead of me by thirty or forty metres. He was flying. All that pent-up emotion which had grown in him day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, as I first pressed him to come to the city, and as we got closer and closer to Rosie, had now translated into energy. I was struggling, trying to get my second wind. I took a quick glance behind again and realised the guy was gaining. I didn’t really need to look: the pounding of his footsteps could have told me that.

I wondered what would happen if and when he caught up with me. Would he overtake me and keep going after Gavin? It was like his life depended on catching Gavin. What if he was seriously out to hurt Gavin? Sure seemed that way. Maybe I was just a nuisance in the equation. On the other hand, if he was going to hurt Gavin, then what would he do about me?

There didn’t seem to be witnesses to this so far. I hadn’t seen anyone appear in the corridor of the house during the couple of seconds that we’d been inside their front garden. And the streets of Marlon were quiet.