it stops foaming before passing it in to Jordy.
The lemonade dries and sticks my legs together and to theseat. Then dirt sticks to the lemonade. I try and shuffle out of the lemonade patch, but my skin’s already sticky and there’s no shuffling out of my skin. I sigh.
Can I have a sip? I say.
Jordy gives me a look, You forfeited your go, he says.
Loretta.
Give your brother a sip, Jesus, she says.
He hands me the giant bottle, letting go too soon so I almost drop it. I take a huge swig. It’s cold and bubbly down my throat. I feel it try to bubble up my nose.
Can I’ve a sip? Loretta says to me. I pass it back to her with a grin. See, she says, we’re almost there.
We cross a big bridge that looks like it’s made for flood, but there’s no water at all, just the silky sand of the riverbed exposed for anyone to have a look. I see the glitter of smashed beer bottles down there. We pass empty paddocks and a big roadhouse. We keep driving. There’s a turnoff to a gravel road with a faded sign. Loretta passes it, then brakes hard, pulls onto the side of the road. Bert hums and ticks.
This is it, I reckon, and gives us a wink, but I can hear a tremble in her voice.
Really? says Jordy, quietly, looking out the window.
We have to be quick, the light’s going, she says and does a u-turn. Drives back to the sign and turns onto the gravel road.
Out the window is red dirt and low silvery bushes. Here there are no real trees. We race the sun to the horizon. Everything rattles on the corrugated road. The back end of Bert swings out and Loretta has to spin the wheel hard back the other way.
Loretta, I feel sick, I say.
A kangaroo bounds out of the scrub. It stops and stands on the road. We are driving straight for it. I think it looks me in the eye. It’s as big as a man. I can see the muscles under kangaroo skin. Loretta brakes and my seatbelt catches me. Somehow Bert spins right the way around and we’re left facing the way we came, half off the road. I turn around and look out the back window. I see the kangaroo bound away through the dust. I can see kangaroos everywhere now, their heads taller than the scrub. The wind blows fumes from the car back at us.
Loretta is laughing maniacally, then she stops. If we hit one, she says, one of you has to go check its pouch.
What? says Jordy. No way.
One of you has got to, she says and squares me in her gaze. I can’t do it, she says.
I don’t want to, I say.
Do you wanna save a life?
Yes.
Well, you gotta check its pouch.
Why can’t you do it? says Jordy.
I can’t do it. You two are the men. You got to do it. She lifts her hand from the wheel and tucks her hair behind her ears.
Jordy pops the door open and tries to step out onto the road. The seatbelt pulls him back. He grabs for the buckle and unclicks it. His hand is shaking.
We didn’t hit that one, Jordy, he got away, I say.
He just sits there on the edge of the seat with his feet outside the car. Leaning out of my window I see his feet placed neatly in a corrugation, his hands are crossed over his knees and his too-long hair covers his face.
Jordy, I say, Jordy – real quiet like, so Loretta can’t hear.I’m tired, I say. I wanna get there. I lean and tap him on the shoulder. He swings his legs back into the car and slams the door shut.
Loretta reverses and swings the car around, turning the steering wheel with her bony elbows in the air until we’re facing the right way again. With the last light shining right at us I can see fine hair on Loretta’s face. It’s lit up and golden.
Go slower, I say, or we’ll hit one.
I hang out the window of the car and watch the road get swallowed. There are so many kangaroos. Loretta drives slow for a while, but gets faster and faster until we’re swerving all over the road again. Under my breath I’m saying, Please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one. All the kangaroos turn
The lemonade dries and sticks my legs together and to theseat. Then dirt sticks to the lemonade. I try and shuffle out of the lemonade patch, but my skin’s already sticky and there’s no shuffling out of my skin. I sigh.
Can I have a sip? I say.
Jordy gives me a look, You forfeited your go, he says.
Loretta.
Give your brother a sip, Jesus, she says.
He hands me the giant bottle, letting go too soon so I almost drop it. I take a huge swig. It’s cold and bubbly down my throat. I feel it try to bubble up my nose.
Can I’ve a sip? Loretta says to me. I pass it back to her with a grin. See, she says, we’re almost there.
We cross a big bridge that looks like it’s made for flood, but there’s no water at all, just the silky sand of the riverbed exposed for anyone to have a look. I see the glitter of smashed beer bottles down there. We pass empty paddocks and a big roadhouse. We keep driving. There’s a turnoff to a gravel road with a faded sign. Loretta passes it, then brakes hard, pulls onto the side of the road. Bert hums and ticks.
This is it, I reckon, and gives us a wink, but I can hear a tremble in her voice.
Really? says Jordy, quietly, looking out the window.
We have to be quick, the light’s going, she says and does a u-turn. Drives back to the sign and turns onto the gravel road.
Out the window is red dirt and low silvery bushes. Here there are no real trees. We race the sun to the horizon. Everything rattles on the corrugated road. The back end of Bert swings out and Loretta has to spin the wheel hard back the other way.
Loretta, I feel sick, I say.
A kangaroo bounds out of the scrub. It stops and stands on the road. We are driving straight for it. I think it looks me in the eye. It’s as big as a man. I can see the muscles under kangaroo skin. Loretta brakes and my seatbelt catches me. Somehow Bert spins right the way around and we’re left facing the way we came, half off the road. I turn around and look out the back window. I see the kangaroo bound away through the dust. I can see kangaroos everywhere now, their heads taller than the scrub. The wind blows fumes from the car back at us.
Loretta is laughing maniacally, then she stops. If we hit one, she says, one of you has to go check its pouch.
What? says Jordy. No way.
One of you has got to, she says and squares me in her gaze. I can’t do it, she says.
I don’t want to, I say.
Do you wanna save a life?
Yes.
Well, you gotta check its pouch.
Why can’t you do it? says Jordy.
I can’t do it. You two are the men. You got to do it. She lifts her hand from the wheel and tucks her hair behind her ears.
Jordy pops the door open and tries to step out onto the road. The seatbelt pulls him back. He grabs for the buckle and unclicks it. His hand is shaking.
We didn’t hit that one, Jordy, he got away, I say.
He just sits there on the edge of the seat with his feet outside the car. Leaning out of my window I see his feet placed neatly in a corrugation, his hands are crossed over his knees and his too-long hair covers his face.
Jordy, I say, Jordy – real quiet like, so Loretta can’t hear.I’m tired, I say. I wanna get there. I lean and tap him on the shoulder. He swings his legs back into the car and slams the door shut.
Loretta reverses and swings the car around, turning the steering wheel with her bony elbows in the air until we’re facing the right way again. With the last light shining right at us I can see fine hair on Loretta’s face. It’s lit up and golden.
Go slower, I say, or we’ll hit one.
I hang out the window of the car and watch the road get swallowed. There are so many kangaroos. Loretta drives slow for a while, but gets faster and faster until we’re swerving all over the road again. Under my breath I’m saying, Please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one, please don’t hit one. All the kangaroos turn
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