Read Online An Open Swimmer by Tim Winton - Free Book Online

met eyes he knew, letting them blink by, clacking up the footpaths amidst the stink of rotting flowers, fluorescent windows of scaled, headless fish, the chatter of money in tills, on bars, in pockets, gutters.
    Faces in the street had that grin. That tight sucking back of the lips. He was grinning, aching. His father was grinning, hand tight on the throttle. And the turrum was dying. In murmurs. But he had worked hard for it. He ached. Wasn’t that enough?
    He caught the grass-green bus home. Next door, the man was scraping up the turds with a shovel. A disgrace, it was, and he didn’t even own a dog! Jerra grinned, ran his hand along the sucked-in cheek of the dented VW, and went inside, his clothes reeking of cashews from Coles, the newsprint and cement.
    â€˜Books,’ his mother murmured, smoothing the wrinkles of his bed. ‘Always used to have your beak in a book. Ever since I can remember. Robinson Crusoe , The Swiss Family Robinson , that little skinny book you read at school . . . here, The Old Man and the Sea. A writer, you said, that’s what, Mum. And you’n Auntie Jewel would sit out there in the afternoons, planning your career. Scribbling those little poems. Didn’t know who was worse, you or Jewel. Those funny little love things she used to write. She was a dear.’
    Petals fall like scales onto my hand . . .
    Jerra half-smiled, feeling the wall.
    â€˜You used to read everything, once. News, pamphlets, magazines. Even the Digest .’
    â€˜Yes.’ He smiled truly. ‘Even the Digest .’
    â€˜Why is it you don’t read any more, Jem? The hardbacks, all the old writers. What about Laurie . . . Laurie, no Lowry, the drunken bum.’ She found Lunar Caustic on his shelf and worried it out. ‘That’s him.’
    â€˜Dunno, Mum.’ Jerra didn’t look. The books turned him cold. ‘It just wasn’t real. You kid yerself, sometimes.’
    â€˜You used to say it was more real than anything.’ She shrugged, pulling at her cardigan. She gazed at the curling photos, dusty on the wall, and pointed. ‘Where was that again, love?’
    â€˜Near Esperance. I forget.’
    â€˜Lovely.’
    â€˜Yeah. It was.’
    â€˜Who took the picture?’
    â€˜Sean. Sean did. He had the camera.’
    He glanced out onto the street.
    â€˜Haven’t seen our Sean for a while.’
    Sprinklers rattled.
    â€˜Have you seen him since the trip?’
    â€˜No,’ he lied.
    Coming back from the river, he had gone into a bar. Lunch time, and it was crowded with smoke and the smells of powdered bodies swirling in the crush. Office girls laughed. A race-caller jabbered. He bought a beer and found a red table with Vinyl seats. As he nudged the bitter foam, Sean came in, hesitated, then recovered and sat down.
    â€˜G’day, mate,’ he said cheerily.
    â€˜Hullo, Sean.’
    â€˜How’s things?’ He flicked back his tie. The name tag looked impressive and a bit pathetic.
    â€˜Orright.’ Jerra pushed a soggy coaster.
    â€˜Got a job, yet?’
    â€˜Nah.’ He smiled. ‘How’s the shirts?’
    â€˜Well as can be expected, I s’pose. Which reminds me, I’m due back.’ He stood, leaving a handmark on the hot red of the Laminex. ‘Listen, I’ll drop by soon and we’ll go out somewhere on a weekend, orright?’
    â€˜Yeah, sure,’ Jerra said into his beer.
    Then only the smoke and the races. And the beer was awful.
    â€˜Â . . . can always remember it. Auntie Jewel would never have forgiven me for sending him there. Such a rough mob at that school.’
    â€˜Eh?’
    â€˜Auntie Jewel.’
    â€˜Talk about being sent.’
    â€˜Well, Sean’s Dad thought it was for the best.’
    â€˜His best. Runs in the blood.’
    Through sand.
    â€˜Everything’s alright between you and Sean, isn’t it, Jem?