‘That sea is sick. It’s making rusted fish.’
William’s got his worried eyes on nodding to me with all the understanding that he can muster. He tells me that I’m safe now and the best place to be is bed. Cecilia is coming in the morning with Jules and Joni, but if I’m not up to it they can stop by later. I hope later turns into never because I’m in a bad way and want to have my tongue taken out so I don’t have to speak to anyone ever again.
William goes and then I’m alone, but I keep my eyes open—I don’t want to go back where I was. Feel the bottom of my feet and they’re smooth but something has punctured my chest all the same.
The rain falls gently again on the window, but I turn the other way. Sea, rain, river or tap. Water is poison to me now.
In the morning my stomach calls out for something so I shuffle into the kitchen. Before I can turn away Cecilia is out of her seat and squeezing me tight against her boobs.
‘You coming down with something?’
‘No, I’m staying up.’
She looks at William, confused.
‘I don’t want to hear about any more birds and I’m not ever dreaming again,’ I say before heading back to bed. I take an apple on the way.
William nods and then everyone else does too.
Cecilia and Jules pop their heads in before they go and they tell Joni to say goodbye to his cousin. But he doesn’t say anything. Just takes in a big breath of air and blows it out again with a long, heavy sigh. Like he is ninety-three years old and tired of it all.
I don’t know how long I sleep but when I wake it is dark and my timing is all out of whack. I want to start the day but it’s coming to an end. William is watching the cricket on TV. He stands up suddenly with a whoop and then sits down again.
‘Yes sir!’ he shouts at the TV.
I make myself a cherkin sandwich (cheese and gherkin) and sit down next to him.
‘This is their last chance. Just plain sloppy.’
I don’t know who is plain or sloppy, so I just nod.
‘How are you feeling, Channa?’
‘Hungry.’
‘Well, that’s a good sign.’
He reaches into his pocket and fumbles around.
‘Joni left something for you.’
Now you won’t believe this. Still hardly can myself. William pulls out a little curly seashell and puts it in the palm of my hand. Before I can say anything he’s up on his feet, yelling at the TV with all his hoo-ha again. ‘No doubt about that!! Howzat! Howzat! Howzat!’
26 Buttons
I stare at that shell all night. Hold it up to the moonlight and remember just how I’d climbed up to the very top heading towards Mum. A miracle, mystery and natural wonder of the world all in the palm of my hand. How did that little boy with no words know about my dream? How could he have seen where I’d been? The hoatzin had led me to Joni and now where would Joni lead me?
The next morning William has to look after Joni because each Tuesday both of his mums are bringing home the bacon. Joni’s sitting at the table with a jar of buttons, drawing a picture. I sit at the table and pour milk on my Rice Bubbles.
‘Thank you for my shell.’
Joni just keeps scribbling.
‘How did you get into my dream?’
He cocks his head to the side but doesn’t say anything. I crunch my cereal real loud and tap my foot hoping that my annoyances will trip him up. But he keeps on colouring. I want to tell him he needs to stay inside the lines but I manage to hold my tongue. Joni finishes the picture and pushes it in my direction. It’s pretty bad, but there we are, looking like scarecrows holding each other’s stick hands. I’m mostly green and he is pink and orange. We have no necks.
I go brush my teeth and when I come back he’s sitting in my bedroom on the floor.
‘Turn around,’ I tell him. I get dressed while he faces the corner. I know he’s scrunching his eyes shut but I still watch him on the off-chance he tries to take a peep.
I’m not really interested in having a one-sided conversation with a mute four-year-old, so I don’t say anything. William knocks on the door and says he has a chess game with his friend Ruben. Some people say chess is a spectator sport, which is crazy. No one runs and there are too many rules about horses and prawns. William says Ruben was in Wodonga. They play over the phone which means he has to move his own prawns and Ruben’s and Ruben has to do the same on the other end of the line. They’ll be at it forever, but old people don’t care about time because their brains go round and round in circles. William puts on a cartoon about pink fairies chasing elves and says that after the game we’ll all go for a walk and get fish and chips for lunch.
Well, I’m fourteen, for goodness sake! William’s too busy moving Ruben’s knight down to his queen to notice that I’m going for a walk to buy something anyways. Pat gave me the very last of his boot money, pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar note from his stinky right sock on the night before he left. I wasn’t going to keep it. I wasn’t going to keep anything from Pat.
Halfway to the shops, who turns up but Mr Mute. He’s hiding behind trees every time I turn around, thinking I can’t see him except his jar of buttons is jiggling like a full packet of smarties. I tell him to bugger off home, but he just holds his breath like that’s gonna make him invisible or something.
In the end I tell him to come walk next to me ’cause I don’t like being stalked. Having some company is okay for a while, but then I realise we’re just ambling about and I’m lost. I don’t want to frighten Joni because I’m the bigger person and supposed to know what’s what. So I sit on a tree that’s fallen over, scared of being so tall.
‘I’m just gonna…have a rest.’
But I’m not foolin’ this kid. Joni shoves his pudgy little hand inside his button jar and takes out a shiny turtle-green shell. He hands it to me like this is some sort of currency exchange except I don’t know what I’m supposed to give him in return. The only thing I have that he does not, is words. So I think about what is worth a green turtle-shell button. Even though I’m not having anything to do with water anymore, the facts about it are solid and interesting. My rancorous and discordant history with the substance should not stop Joni from being educated.
‘Pure water has no smell or taste. It also has a pH level around 7,’ I say.
A frown floats across Joni’s face but then he nods like he’s chewed on this fun fact and decided it tastes all right. I know this because he digs around in his jar and gives me another button, all bubbled and brown.
Soon I’ve forgotten we are lost and in potential danger of being kidnapped or falling into a wormhole and ending up back in 1956. This is how it goes:
Blue pearl: breathing in and out every day uses up more than half a litre of water.
White swirl: A jellyfish and a cucumber are both ninety-five per cent water.
Grass green: sound travels five times faster underwater.
Purple and pink dots: Camels can drink ninety-four litres of water in about three minutes.
Big fat orange: koalas are one of only two animals that do not need to drink water. They get it from gum leaves. I do not know the other one.
Another turtle-shell: Blood plasma is fifty per cent water.