John Marsden - While I live

The next morning, as we walked through the paddocks checking the cattle, Gavin far in front on the left and Marmie far in front on the right, Lee began the big conversation. It had to happen sooner or later, I knew that, but I was not looking forward to it. He was nervous too. I still didn’t know if he’d been expecting a weekend of wild sex but he would have been sadly disappointed so far. And he had to go back early in the morning, catching the school bus into Wirrawee and the bus to the city from there.

I don’t know, I was probably doing him an injustice though. It wasn’t fair to assume that he’d come all this way for selfish motives. I still had huge respect for Lee. He was a generous guy and I think his first, second and third reasons for visiting were to see how Gavin and I were going, and to help in any way he could.

His fourth reason could well have been to do with sex. But he had helped a lot.

Anyway, as we wandered up the hill, leaving the ute behind, watching the cattle totally engrossed by their breakfast sandwiches of hay, he said nervously, ‘So, are you like, with anyone else? Anyone new?’

‘No,’ I said, then, after a pause, ‘How about you?’

‘No, no-one.’

‘So we’re both single, huh?’

‘Desperate and dateless,’ he said.

‘Speak for yourself. Just dateless, thanks.’

‘For a guy, we can’t be one without the other.’ But he grinned as he said it.

‘Have you met anyone you’ve liked?’ I asked.

‘Oh yeah, you know how it is. You see someone from the bus window, or in the canteen queue at school, or a new girl comes into your class. But there’s no-one who’s totally grabbed me.’

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was just thinking about the Taoist girl yesterday, and how she’d talked about letting things follow their natural laws, not trying to force people or anything — relationships for that matter — into a different rhythm, or an artificial shape.

Lee said, ‘So, are we still, like, together, or what? I’m a bit confused.’ He said it gently but I could hear the tension in his voice.

I gulped. ‘I wish I knew. To be honest I kind of thought it was over but when you walked into the kitchen the other night, I’ve got to admit, it felt pretty good to see you.’

He didn’t say anything so I kept going. ‘When you moved to the city — and you had to look after your brothers and sisters, and you sounded so stressed in those phone calls — it just seemed like we were going in majorly different directions. I got caught up in the wild lifestyle of Wirrawee, and you were drifting out of sight. Now… well, I’ve enjoyed this weekend a lot. But it doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump straight back in. Can we just let things drift a little longer? Would that be OK?’

‘We’re pretty good together.’

It was unusual for Lee to press like this. Normally his pride wouldn’t let him.

‘Well, I guess. But we’re young. And we’re coping with a lot of stuff. God are we coping with a lot of stuff.’

‘Has it struck you that we’re both orphans?’

I had to blink back the tears then. We were sitting on an outcrop of rock, at the highest point in the paddock. Below us Gavin was using a stick like a golf club and trying to hit cattle dung up the hill towards us.

‘Oh I hate that word,’ I said, when I could trust myself to speak. ‘I haven’t let myself think that word.’

He put an arm around me. ‘I’ve had longer to get used to it than you have.’

But I didn’t want his arm around me and I shrugged it off.

‘Orphans!’ I said angrily. ‘That sounds like Anne of Green Gables, and Little Orphan Annie. I can’t think of myself like that. I can’t think of you like that.’

But he seemed to want to rub it in.

‘Gavin’s an orphan too, as far as anyone knows. Three orphans in the one field. What are the odds on that?’

‘Oh come on,’ I said, standing up. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Let’s go home.’

When we got there, Homer was waiting. He’d rung the day before about coming over, staying the night, and catching the bus from my place with Gavin and Lee and me the next morning.

I told them that they could make lunch themselves, so they broke out the barbecue. I got some chops and sausages from the freezer. Our stocks were getting low. I realised that if I wanted more meat I’d soon have to kill a beast myself. I’d helped my father often enough but I didn’t like the thought of doing it on my own. Plus all the butchering afterwards. It made me feel a bit sick. Maybe I’d have to come up with a different way of getting meat.

After I’d found them the Dickhead matches — a name which always made me smile — I sat and watched them cook, giving regular helpful advice which I feel they deeply appreciated. But I got their sudden and undivided attention when I said to Lee, ‘Get Homer to tell you about Liberation.’

Two heads whipped around towards me, two sets of eyes gazed at me intently.

‘What do you know about Liberation?’ Lee asked. I was a bit shocked at their reaction. I was surprised that Lee had even heard of them.

‘I know quite a lot,’ I said. ‘But not as much as Homer.’

It was a complete bluff, but I hoped it might get me somewhere. Unfortunately these two guys knew me too well.

‘You don’t know nuffin,’ Homer said, turning back to the sausages.

I thought I might as well go for broke. ‘They’re a group from around here,’ I said to Lee, but watching Homer for his reaction. ‘Well, there’s groups in different areas, but there’s one based in Wirrawee. They sneak over the border and do stuff, rescue people.’ I decided to push a bit harder. ‘Homer’s involved, but he doesn’t want me to know about it, because he thinks I’ve got enough to worry about for the time being. You know Homer, always wanting to make my decisions for me.’

Homer had his back to me but he stabbed a sausage with a fork, so hard that it broke in two.

‘So who else is in it?’ Lee asked. He was watching me closely. Now he was off-balance. He wasn’t sure what I really knew.

‘Jeremy Finley,’ I said. ‘General Finley’s son.’ I was fairly sure of that one. ‘And Jess, this girl who came here a few weeks back with Jeremy, and hit me with a whole lot of questions.’ I asked Lee, ‘Do you know her? Or Jeremy Finley?’

He shook his head. ‘So, who else?’

I gave up at that point. ‘I’ll be honest. I don’t know.’ I said to Homer, ‘So, how’d I do?’

‘Why do you want to make your life more complicated than it is already?’ he asked, putting the chops onto a plate.

I waved at Gavin to get his attention. When I was his age the smell of food was enough to bring me running, but not Gavin. This time he was absorbed in trying to teach Marmie to fetch a ball. I had to go and tap him on the shoulder. By the time I got back I had the distinct feeling that Lee and Homer had quickly agreed what they would tell me and what they wouldn’t.

I settled into a chair opposite them. ‘So, what am I going to be allowed to know?’ I asked them, taking my first mouthful of food and smiling sweetly across the table.

Lee shrugged. ‘Hey, don’t look at me. I know bugger-all.’

‘Bugger’s a rude word,’ Gavin chipped in.

‘Yeah, like you really care,’ I said. ‘Eat your vegetables.’

‘Look,’ said Homer. ‘It’s true, I do know something about them. And I am just a little bit involved. But the deal is that none of us is allowed to talk about it to anyone not in the group, for obvious reasons. So the thing is, do you want to join the group? You say I’m always wanting to tell you how to live your life. Well, I don’t know about that, but I did figure you wouldn’t want to get into any heavy scenes while you’re trying to cope with what happened to your parents, as well as run this place, and look after Gavin, and the whole thing.’