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Mercy Point Page 3


  She hurried home through the town centre. Staring down at her feet, she watched her sandshoes clapping at the pavement. The tops of her feet were turning pink from the cold. She didn’t need to look up. Cameron was the biggest town on Mount Cobalt, but it was still pretty small. Tessie knew every inch of it. There was a railway station up one end, with the one loud train that chugged through at quarter past each hour. There was a main street with a bunch of antique stores, which smelled of pine wood polish, and cafes that were closing for the day. If she’d looked in their windows, she’d probably see a bored-looking waitress mopping the floor. There were a few jewellery stores that had titanite necklaces, rings and brooches in the window, tiny spotlights making the stones shine yellow, red and green. There was a big old pub on the corner and a Woolworths supermarket. If she squinted into the distance, she could see the wisps of grey smoke coming from the mine where they extracted titanite.

  The morning mist had cleared, and it was almost sunny despite the chill in the air. But Tessie kept up her pace. Her whole body was still sticky with dried sweat, her muscles feeling tender from being clenched so tight. It was a disgusting feeling, the feeling of failure.

  The only time Tessie stopped was when she passed the memorial. She always did, every day. It felt disrespectful to just waltz on past without at least pausing. The memorial was a large grey boulder with a gold plaque about a metre in length set into it. Engraved on the plaque were the names of six hundred and thirty-four men and women. They were the names of those who had died in the Cameron Cave-in, the worst natural disaster to ever hit the region. It had happened just a few days before Tessie was born. Two of the names on the list were her grandparents. She looked at the cursive lettering for a moment, then continued walking. For a long time, she’d thought that if her grandparents hadn’t died, things might be different for her. Now, she knew it didn’t matter because they weren’t her real grandparents anyway.

  Tessie took a deep breath before she rounded the corner to the Mercy Point Motel. The motel was fourteen rooms set around a car park, with the reception at the front. It had originally been painted bright white with the doors a clear sky blue. Now, the paint was faded and chipped.

  Tessie made a beeline for the bungalow out the back where she lived with her parents, but she didn’t get far.

  ‘Sayangku?’ her mum called out. It was an Indonesian term of endearment and Tessie’s mum only ever used it when she wanted Tessie’s help. Tessie wondered if she had time to make a run for it, but it was too late. Her mum poked her head out of one of the recently vacated rooms and smiled at her. ‘Can you help me for a sec?’

  She didn’t wait for a reply, her head disappeared right back into the motel room. Tessie balled her fists and followed her in. She dumped her school bag next to the door. Her mother was already back in the bathroom, rubber gloves on.

  ‘I did the science presentation today,’ Tessie said, ‘the one I told you about.’

  ‘Oh yes, how’d it go?’ her mum replied, not looking up from scrubbing the shower.

  ‘Not well.’ Tessie pulled the dirty sheets from the bed. The man who had slept in this room had looked well groomed and clean, but somehow he’d still made the bedding stink.

  ‘That’s a pity. I’m sure it was better than the day I had here. Room five complained three times that the heater wasn’t working, always right when I was in the middle of something else.’ Her mum’s voice echoed up from the shower enclosure. ‘I showed him what he was doing wrong, but I swear he just wasn’t listening. People think I’m their personal maid, like they don’t realise I’m trying to run the place as well. It would be a different story if your dad was here a bit more often, but that is what it is.’

  She kept going, but Tessie ignored her. She’d heard this rant many times. Instead, Tessie focused on tucking in the fresh sheets without any creases or puckers, her frustration pounding in her head.

  ‘I’ve got homework,’ she cut in to whatever her mother had been saying, and left the room before her mum could ask her to do anything else. She grabbed her bag and rushed to the bungalow. She got to her bedroom, closed the door with a slap and lay down on the bed. Tessie lay totally still for about ten minutes, her forearm over her face. She could have stayed like that until it got dark, but her phone buzzed against her thigh. She pulled it out.

  M.Dot: The best thing about knowing I’m adopted is knowing that I’m not actually related to my dad. I think I’d die if I actually shared any DNA with that guy.

  Tessie smiled, the weight lifting just slightly. This happened often. It was like the people on the message board knew her innermost thoughts.

  Tessie remembered when she’d first found it. She’d been typing different searches into Google about adoption and how it all worked and where people did it in Mount Cobalt. She wasn’t sure if she’d accidentally signed up to a website or something because, a few weeks later, an email appeared in her inbox. The email contained only a link, which connected to a private message board. The message board described itself as ‘a place for teenagers in Mount Cobalt who doubt their paternity to meet and connect in private’. It was almost too good to be true. She’d requested to join the board and for one full, agonising day she’d checked and rechecked to see if she would be approved. Then she was, and it was so much better than she had imagined. There were four other teenagers who understood her better than anyone ever had.

  As crap as Tessie was feeling right now, she knew she’d be okay because she had the others. It was the perfect situation. They were there for her when she needed them. She could be totally alone and feel surrounded by people at the same time. They never challenged her or put her in the kind of situations that she knew she couldn’t deal with.

  Tessie could have lain in bed and chatted to them for hours, but first she needed a shower, and before the shower she may as well go for a run. She felt exhausted, but she knew that as soon as she was running she’d feel a bazillion times better.

  Sighing with exasperation, she sat back up. Her head swam and her vision dimmed. Black speckles swarmed in front of her eyes. Putting a hand over her face, she let the dizziness pass. She must have sat up too quickly. When she opened her eyes, she expected everything to be normal again, but it wasn’t. The swirling black dots nearly blocked out her vision completely. What was happening? She jumped to her feet, banging into something with her hip. Then, for no reason at all, her vision cleared. It must have just been a head rush, she tried to convince herself.

  It was only later, with her jogging gear on and the motel long behind her, that she started to feel better. The sun had slipped down by then and the air was cold again. With her lungs burning, the sound of her feet slapping on the road and the cold wind in her face, she couldn’t even think. Every little spike of anger with herself she threw into running, pushing herself to go faster and faster. The world became a blur as she sped past it. Nothing mattered when she was running. All her thoughts slipped away. It was the only time she felt free.

  She bent over, trying to catch her breath, which was rising in steaming puffs. Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out. As she read the message, her face sank.

  PumpkinDreams: I think we should meet.

  CHAPTER 3

  EMMA

  In homeroom, Emma had got into the habit of turning off her hearing aids. Everyone was always talking and laughing and the teacher had to yell to be heard above the clamour. It was too much. With her hearing aids off, all that noise was hushed and easily ignorable. Emma leaned her head on her hands and thought about this afternoon. It was probably the most excited she’d ever been about anything. It was also the most nervous.

  She’d tried again to talk to her parents last night, but it was pointless. Every conversation she had lately with either her mum or Ridha was interrupted by their phones ringing or an important email coming through. Or sometimes, worst of all, she’d just stop talking because she’d see that their eyes were glazed over and they weren’t even listening.

/>   She stared out of the homeroom window, watching a group of cockatoos peck at a tree branch. The moody grey sky behind them made their whiteness look impossible. When she looked back to the front of the room, everyone was gone. The teacher was looking at her, his lips moving, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She smiled at him and got straight up and left the room. Once she was out of the doorway, she turned her hearing aids back on. For a moment, the noise of the corridor was overwhelming: the crashing of locker doors, the banging of a basketball bouncing on the lino, the shrill laughs of a group of girls. She hurried down the hall towards her social studies classroom, checking her phone as she did.

  M.Dot: Promise I’m not really a fifty-year-old hairy man!

  Fontaine: Me neither! This is going to be the longest day ever. Cannot wait.

  ‘Hey, Emma!’ Rain said as Emma walked into the classroom.

  ‘Hi.’ She sat down next to her.

  The tables were assembled in a horseshoe shape and directly across from Emma were Michael and Tom. She flashed them both a dirty look. She hadn’t forgotten about yesterday, and she wanted to make that clear to them. She knew she couldn’t force them to care if they hurt other people’s feelings, but still, she wasn’t going to pretend that what they’d done was okay. As she leaned down to pull out her workbook, she felt the buzz of her phone against her hip. Mrs Van Leuen was writing on the whiteboard, her large bottom wobbling. Emma snuck a look at her phone.

  OhSammyBoy: Can’t wait for this arvo! Where should we meet?

  Slipping it back into her pocket, Emma couldn’t help but smile.

  ‘What are you smiling about?’ Rain asked, catching the look. ‘Is it a boy?’

  ‘As if!’ Emma said. ‘The guys around here are so gross. I’d rather die!’

  ‘Hmm . . .’ Rain looked at her, not entirely convinced.

  ‘Alright, class,’ Mrs Van Leuen said loudly, ‘we are going to try something different today.’

  Everyone groaned.

  ‘Come on, everyone get up and make a circle.’

  People took their time getting to their feet and going into the middle of the classroom, pushing and shoving and doing all that they could to make the most of the disruption. As Emma got up, she thought hard about where they should meet. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the internet could be a dangerous place. No matter how unlikely it seemed, she had to be careful. After all, these people really could be anyone. They’d have to meet somewhere public.

  ‘Alright, come on now! Hurry up please, Michael. Stop it, Tom,’ Mrs Van Leuen said.

  Eventually, they were all in a circle in the centre of the room. On Emma’s left was Rain and on her right was Tessie. Until yesterday, she had always thought that maybe there was more to Tessie. She came across as the most boring person imaginable, but ever since it had gone around school that Tessie was seeing the counsellor, Emma had thought maybe there was another side to her. Maybe there was some hidden depth underneath the ugly clothes and same old ponytail day in and day out. But what Tessie had done in science just wasn’t okay. Emma had put so much work into the assignment, and Tessie had barely done anything. She wished Tessie had just told her before they’d presented, rather than just reading out one sentence and staring at Emma like she expected her to do her bit too. She caught Tessie’s eye and gave her a half-smile, but Tessie looked away, an angry expression on her face. Although angry seemed to be her only expression anyway. The only place she ever looked happy was on the sports field, and that was because she was usually smashing a ball around or tackling someone. Emma rolled her eyes. Why did she even bother smiling at her? The girl was clearly content with making no effort whatsoever.

  ‘We are going to do an exercise now to show how unreliable the media can be,’ Mrs Van Leuen said. ‘The truth can be twisted very easily. It’s very important not to take something printed in the newspaper as absolute fact. I assume you’ve all heard of the game Chinese Whispers?’

  ‘Yeah, when we were ten,’ Emma said quietly, despite herself.

  ‘I’m not expecting it to be new to you,’ Mrs Van Leuen said, looking pointedly at her. ‘Let’s begin.’

  Mrs Van Leuen leaned to her left and said something quietly in Evelyn Robertson’s ear. Evelyn was the teacher’s pet and looked completely delighted to have been touched by Mrs Van Leuen. Emma almost laughed, but she kept it in this time.

  Eventually, the message came around to her. Tessie leaned forward, still looking annoyed, although Emma noticed that her hand was resting on her stomach like it hurt. Maybe if she ate more, she wouldn’t have a sore stomach.

  ‘Mrs Van Leuen has a giant butt,’ Tessie whispered.

  ‘What?’ said Emma loudly. Tessie shrugged in response.

  Emma looked back in the line and saw Michael sniggering; he was the one who had changed it. She looked at the other side of the circle. Fabian was going to have to say it to the teacher if she kept passing it around. Again, Michael was picking on him.

  ‘Do you want to repeat the message to Emma, Tess?’ asked Mrs Van Leuen. She must have thought Emma couldn’t hear it.

  ‘I heard it!’ Emma said, her temper flaring. Michael sniggered even louder.

  ‘You’re such a dickhead!’ she yelled.

  The class went suddenly quiet.

  ‘It’s not my fault if you can’t hear, Emma,’ said Michael under his breath.

  Mrs Van Leuen looked between them.

  ‘What was the message, Emma?’ she asked.

  Emma looked at her feet, her face reddening. How could she possibly say it?

  ‘Okay. Emma, Michael, go to the principal’s office.’

  They sat together on the bench outside the principal’s office, waiting. The front-office lady typed with one finger, like a little bird pecking at the dirt. It was quiet except for the sound of the clicking on the keyboard and the low voice of the principal on the telephone. Once he’d finished his call they’d have to go in. There was a big vase of flowers on the table next to them. They had been there a day too long and they smelled overly sweet, as though they’d started to rot. Emma carefully unlaced her nose ring; she didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

  ‘I hate you,’ she said quietly to Michael, who only laughed in response.

  ‘So dramatic, Emma.’

  For a moment, she had to stop herself from turning around and yelling at him. She knew for sure the principal would call her parents and she would be sent home. This would mean her plans for this afternoon would be ruined. She was only trying to do the right thing and the dumb teacher couldn’t even see it. This was all Michael’s fault though. He had wrecked everything.

  The principal stopped talking. She had to think fast. There was no way she was going to miss this afternoon. Somehow, she had to fix this.

  ‘Go through,’ the front-office lady said.

  When she stood up, Emma’s legs trembled slightly. She hated being in trouble. She tried her best to hide it; she didn’t want to give Michael any more ammunition.

  The principal’s office was less scary than she’d thought. It was just a big desk and a bookcase. It had a weird lemony smell, as if he’d sprayed air freshener just before they’d come in. The principal didn’t look angry; he looked a little bored if anything.

  ‘Sit down,’ he said.

  She assessed the situation. She could tell him the truth and blame it all on Michael. He would deny it and say it was all her fault, and they would start arguing again. The other thing she could do was just straight-up apologise, which was the smartest thing to do, but she wasn’t sure if she could do it. It would give Michael too much satisfaction.

  ‘Mrs Van Leuen has let me know what happened and I must say I’m very disappointed in both of you. I’ll need you to tell me what the message was and who changed it.’

  Emma was just about to say it was all Michael’s fault when she hesitated. Perhaps it was worth apologising if it meant she wouldn’t miss this afternoon. Before she had a chance to say anything
, Michael butted in.

  ‘It was all my fault, sir. I changed the message to Emma is a silly-billy. It was only meant to be a joke, but I understand why it upset her. I’m really sorry, Emma.’

  What was he doing? She’d never known Michael to apologise in his life. His lie was annoying and over the top, but in some ways it was also pretty smart as it downplayed the whole thing. Who knew Michael was capable of a smart thought?

  ‘Is this true, Emma?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t realise it was a joke and I overreacted,’ she said, and then through gritted teeth, ‘I’m sorry, Michael.’

  ‘Well, if that’s all it was, then I think you can both go back to class. Michael, try to keep your jokes outside the classroom, and Emma, please watch your language.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Michael said, like it was something he said every day.

  ‘Yes . . . umm, thanks,’ Emma added.

  ‘Where’s my thank you?’ Michael asked as they walked back to class.

  ‘I’d rather die than thank you, Michael Brighton,’ she snapped.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ He opened the classroom door for her and smiled.

  She took an uncertain step forward, just as he ducked in front of her and let the door swing back in her face. She wanted to scream! Instead, she kept it inside and calmly walked back to her seat. It was worth it if it meant that she wouldn’t miss this afternoon.

  As the class ended, Emma snuck another look at her phone. Had the worst day, but this afternoon will make it worth it. How about we meet at Mercy Point Lookout? She pressed ‘send’ and, just as she did, she heard a ding ring out from somewhere in the class, as though someone here had received her message. She looked around. Everyone was packing up and starting to leave. It must just be a coincidence. There was no way that someone from her secret message board went to school with her. No way.

  CHAPTER 4