Mercy Point Read online

  ‘One day,’ she said, eyes on the smoke, ‘I’m going to live in a place where I don’t have to see this foul testament to corporate greed and ecological annihilation every day.’

  She felt his eyes on her. ‘You don’t like the mine?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Me neither. I can’t even look at it. I thought everyone in this place was all for it though? Isn’t that how most adults here make their money?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, turning to him. He sounded like he’d been living in a different state, not just one town away. ‘I guess my viewpoint isn’t the most popular.’

  ‘Well, it’s nice to hear that some people can see the bigger picture.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said.

  There was silence again, and this time it wasn’t so comfortable. There was a lot she should say, but for once in Emma’s life, she felt a little unsure of herself.

  ‘Listen,’ she said eventually, ‘I’m sorry about yesterday.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.’

  ‘I know, but you’ve come all the way here and it’s all stuff that has nothing to do with you. It’s a pity it couldn’t have been different.’

  ‘Yeah. Well, for what it’s worth, like I said yesterday, I think you guys are awesome.’

  That made her feel a little sad; he really had no idea. ‘So, are you leaving Cameron soon?’

  ‘Nah, I like it here. I’m not in any rush to get back.’

  She smiled.

  ‘Anyway, I haven’t given up on all of you yet.’

  ‘Oh, Sam, no,’ she said quickly, ‘really, it’s doomed. It’s better for everyone if this doesn’t continue. Really.’

  He shrugged. ‘What about us? We’re allowed to be friends, right?’

  She stared at the smoke, hoping like hell she wasn’t blushing. ‘Yeah, of course.’

  ‘Good.’

  She felt the shifting of weight again, and when she turned back, he was already walking away.

  ‘You seem so much better, Em,’ Ridha said as they walked in through the front door.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t know, my throat still feels a bit scratchy.’ She dumped the bag of groceries she was holding onto the bench.

  Her mum came out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes from what had obviously been a long day sitting in front of the computer.

  ‘You weren’t feeling well?’ she asked as she began taking out groceries from one of the bags and randomly throwing them into the cupboard. Her mum always did this, which meant that whenever Emma was looking for something, she’d never find it. Really, it only took a minute. She didn’t know why it was so difficult.

  ‘I think I’d better do that.’ Emma nudged her mother out of the way and began to rearrange.

  ‘We’re just going to take it out again anyway,’ her mum said.

  ‘Yes, but it’s always nicer when cans of soup don’t fall on your head,’ Ridha told her.

  ‘That doesn’t happen.’

  ‘Don’t worry, baby, I was just joking,’ Ridha said, wrapping her arms around her.

  Over her shoulder, Emma and Ridha shared a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘Yeah, you just stick to cooking,’ Emma said.

  ‘Yes, exactly, you’re good at that!’ Ridha said, kissing her on the cheek.

  ‘I never thought I’d be the butt of the joke for my own partner and daughter!’

  Emma felt the smile slip off her face.

  ‘Who’s joking? I’m not joking,’ Ridha said. ‘You’re a great cook.’

  ‘Sure. Anyway, I’m making tacos. Emma, do you want to make the chilli?’

  ‘That’s okay,’ Emma said, unable to look at either of them.

  ‘What is happening to our daughter?’

  ‘You usually won’t let anyone even stir the chilli!’

  ‘I’m not that bad! Anyway, I’m going to go lie down.’ She still couldn’t look at them. ‘I don’t feel great.’

  She had a feeling they were exchanging glances, but she didn’t care. She went straight to her room. She took out her hearing aids and put them on the desk next to her computer. The moment with Sam had distracted her for a few hours, but really, nothing was any different. The others were still people she hated and would never voluntarily talk to again, her parents were still lying to her, and she still really had no idea who she was or why all the weird secrecy was going on. Opening the computer, on reflex she typed in the address for the message board. No one was online. Of course, what had she been thinking? That everything would magically go back to the way it was for a few minutes? That somehow the last two days could be made to not exist?

  Emma leaned back in her chair and stared up at the maps that wallpapered the ceiling of her bedroom. About ten years back she’d found them rolled up next to the rubbish bin. Her mum used to be a tour guide at the Sterling caves, back when they were one of the major tourist attractions for Cameron. Still, her mum didn’t seem to feel any need to hold on to them. Her parents hated clutter, which was good considering how tiny their house was. They both believed in the idea that life should be lived outside the house and that they didn’t want to be bogged down with a huge mortgage just so they could be further away from each other. Emma liked the idea in theory, but she always found excuses not to invite Rain and River around, just in case they didn’t get it. Their house was easily four times the size of Emma’s.

  She’d sneaked the maps back inside. They were hardly taking up space glued to her ceiling. They were of the Cameron cave system before the disaster. Emma liked to lie on her bed and stare up at them, imagining what it was like down there. Damp, dark and silent. There was an intricate pattern of tiny tunnels leading into circular caverns. It was so unlike the roads and freeways above ground. When she was a kid, she used to pretend it was a map of fairyland, and she’d trace the tunnels with her eyes when she lay in bed with her night light on, making up stories in her head. Now, she imagined her mother when she was not much older than Emma herself, commanding groups of tourists through the maze of passageways and caverns.

  She heard the familiar ding of someone coming online and looked back at her computer, ready to snap the lid shut. But it was Sam. She felt a little bubble of excitement rise in her. The mouse hovered over his name. If she opened up a private message box, would he think she was being too intense? After all, it was he who said he wanted to be her friend. But still, maybe it was just one of those things you say and you don’t really mean. It would be easier just to forget about it, but was that really what she wanted? While she was still deciding, a box popped up.

  OhSammyBoy: Hi.

  PumpkinDreams: Hi!

  OhSammyBoy: It was so good to bump into you today.

  She typed, a huge grin spreading across her face.

  PumpkinDreams: Yeah, it didn’t suck.

  OhSammyBoy: The opposite of sucking.

  PumpkinDreams: Blowing?

  OhSammyBoy: Hmm. That doesn’t sound quite right either.

  She hesitated, what was she meant to write back? It felt different now that she knew who she was writing to.

  OhSammyBoy: Maybe we should bump into each other again soon?

  She felt the stupid grin return to her face.

  PumpkinDreams: Maybe we should.

  She reached up to turn down her hearing aids; the sound of the clicking of the keys was too loud. But her fingers touched the soft flesh of the back of her ear. Her hearing aids were lying on the desk in front of her. Yet she could hear her parents talking in the kitchen; she could hear the hum of her computer.

  The computer dinged so loudly with a new message it made her flinch.

  OhSammyBoy: Good.

  She wanted to write something to him, arrange a time to meet, but her heart was pounding too hard. What was happening? The dot next to his name turned red. He was offline. She was too freaked out to be disappointed.

  Emma pressed a key on the keyboard; the sound seemed to reverberate inside her head. This wasn’t possible.


  She could even hear the sound of her mother chopping a vegetable, the knife slicing through the vegetable’s skin and the squelch of it hitting the wooden board.

  She could hear the water boiling in the pan, the little pops of each air bubble hammering against her head.

  Putting her hands over her ears, she got down on the ground. It was too loud. It didn’t make sense.

  ‘Stop,’ she whispered, her own voice too loud.

  Tears began to trickle from her eyes; she could hear the sound of them sliding down her cheeks. She tried not to move, not to do anything that might make a noise.

  Then, for no reason at all, it did stop. The noises were muted again, as though nothing had ever happened.

  CHAPTER 8

  TESSIE

  Tessie had thought that the day she’d failed at doing the science presentation had been the worst things could get. She’d felt wretched and pathetic and ashamed of herself, and was sure it couldn’t possibly get any worse. But she was wrong. Because despite all her failings, she still had the feeling of being part of something. Of the group. Underneath everything, there had still been hope. There had still been the feeling of connectedness. That there were people out there somewhere who understood what it was like to feel like there was something different about you, something wrong. But now that was gone. She had nothing. Her phone was quiet.

  At school that day she’d kept her head down. In science she’d moved to the other side of the room so she wouldn’t have to sit near Emma. It was too painful. Somehow, she disliked Emma even more now. It didn’t feel like she’d actually been one of the people on the message board, instead it had felt like Emma and Michael and Fabian had destroyed those people. Killed them. That they were the reason the group no longer existed.

  Walking between classes, she’d passed Michael. Bullying, nasty, big-headed Michael. Had the message board all been a joke to him? Maybe he’d shown the messages to his friends, laughed at how pathetic they all were. He was with his friends now. They were leaning against the lockers and talking.

  ‘He got him right between the shoulder blades, you shoulda seen it,’ Tom was saying. ‘Knocked him clean off his bike.’

  ‘You should try to join the baseball team, Mikey. Sounds like you’d be a good pitcher.’

  As she passed him, she caught his eye. She looked away quickly, but in the moment they’d stared at each other, she’d seen something she hadn’t expected. Not mocking or contempt or anything even close. What she’d seen was a flash of vulnerability, a moment of what looked like a plea. Of what, she had no idea, and she tried to forget about it as she sat down for her last class of the longest of long days. It was probably all part of one of his nasty games.

  When the last bell rang, Tessie was glad. Not because she wanted to go home, but just because it would mean not having to see them anymore. Seeing them only rubbed in her face what she had lost. The motel wasn’t far from school, but she tried to walk home as slowly as possible. There would only be chores and guilt trips waiting for her at home. It was windy today. Icy gusts kept pushing against her coat, turning her exposed ears pink. Despite the bad weather, she decided to head down the main street, rather than straight home. Nothing much changed in town, but she liked to look at the shops anyway. Stopping at each of the stores to peer inside, she tried to distract herself, but there was too much on her mind.

  The big white stage for the Winter Magic Festival was already being constructed. The men were working slowly, laughing and sipping hot drinks in Styrofoam cups. Usually, she looked forward to the Winter Magic Festival. It was the one weekend every year where her sleepy little town seemed to come alive. People dressed up in amazing costumes, and dancing and performances filled the main street. Even though she didn’t really get involved, she still loved to feel a part of it. Now, it all seemed juvenile. She probably wouldn’t even go. She’d just stay in room twelve, where she could just wish she was somewhere and someone else for a few hours.

  Although room twelve didn’t feel quite the same anymore. When she’d lain down on the bed yesterday evening, she’d expected the usual rush of intense relief to flood through her. The feeling of finally being totally alone, finally being able to relax. But it didn’t come, and she knew why. Although the others had only been there for ten minutes or so, the room felt different. It didn’t feel private anymore. They had somehow left traces of themselves behind. She felt only too aware that she was laying where Sam had sat. When she looked out the window, she could just about see Fabian still propped there, looking at Michael with such intense hatred.

  She tried to put it all out of her mind and looked up into the shops she was passing. Some of them had already decorated their windows for the festival. The bakery had painted little silver glittery snowflakes all over the glass. Inside she saw a group of kids from her year at school sitting together eating sugary treats, their jackets flung over the chairs behind them. Her focus shifted and she saw her own reflection in the window. She was hunching badly, as if she had the whole world on her shoulders. She looked just as pathetic as she felt. She straightened, remembering the way her dad would always silently push his palm in between her shoulder blades so that she’d stop slouching. It was so much better than her mum constantly saying she was going to get a hunch on her back if she kept doing it. His hand was always warm and reassuring. Despite everything that had happened with the message board, she had to remember that no matter what, she wasn’t completely alone. She still had her dad. Even if he wasn’t her real dad, she knew he loved her. He told her all the time. Whenever she spoke to him, everything felt a little bit brighter. She began charging home, the idea taking hold. That was it. She’d call her dad.

  When she walked into the hotel reception, she already had it planned out. Obviously, she couldn’t tell him about most of what was going on, but she could tell him some of the things that were on her mind. Like that weird moment when her sight had gone away for no reason. That had scared her. She’d been trying her best to push it out of her mind since it happened, but it kept creeping back in. Her dad would know what to say to make her feel better. He always did. Just hearing his voice always felt like such a relief.

  ‘Tessie! Thank God you’re back, I need you,’ her mother said, slamming the phone back on the receiver. Tessie noticed that three of the phone lines were flashing red.

  ‘We’ve got so many last-minute bookings coming through for the Winter Magic Festival! I need you in the laundry; we’ve gotten really behind again.’

  ‘I’ve got heaps of homework,’ she said, her heart sinking.

  ‘It won’t take long. I need you to pitch in, Sayangku, you know that,’ her mother said, before picking up the phone again, her voice changing from nagging to bright. ‘Hello, Mercy Point Motel, this is Lia.’

  There was no point arguing. Tessie stomped into the tiny laundry. Washing the sheets had to be her least favourite chore. The smell of the bleach gave her a headache. She tried to imagine what the others were doing right now. Michael was probably hanging out with his friends, doing whatever it was they did. Skateboarding and playing tricks on people and laughing. Emma was probably with Rain and River, hanging out at one of their houses and listening to music. And Fabian, well she wasn’t sure about him. She’d seen him with his family in the supermarket once, laughing and joking around. He’d probably be home with them, having his mother cook his dinner and do all his chores for him. None of them had probably had to wash their own sheets, let alone other people’s. The anger boiled up inside her. She flung open the washing machine lid and stuffed in as many stinky white sheets as she could and poured bleach on top, probably too much but who cared. Slamming the lid shut, she then pulled the dry ones out of the dryer and started folding them, meticulously. Forcing her hands to be careful only made her angrier.

  After two hours of washing, drying and folding, she had finally worked through the giant pile of bed linen. She forced herself to take a deep breath, it was okay now. She’d get to talk to her dad.<
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  When she went into their bungalow, her mum was floating around the kitchen, smiling. Tessie wanted to pretend she didn’t know what that smile meant, but she did.

  ‘Can we call Dad?’ she asked, still hoping, not wanting to give up the one thing that might make her feel okay again.

  ‘Oh, I just talked to him, honey,’ her mum said.

  Tessie could feel her hands shaking. She held them together tightly behind her back. ‘Why didn’t you come and get me?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, we just got chatting and then he got called away. You can talk to him next time.’

  ‘I wanted to talk to him today!’ she said, her voice starting to rise.

  ‘Calm down, honey,’ her mum said, vigorously stirring her cooking so that the spicy smell tingled Tessie’s nostrils.

  ‘If he asked to talk to me, you should’ve come and got me! It’s not fair.’

  Her mum just looked at her. She knew what that meant too. He hadn’t asked to talk to her. Probably only because her mother was blabbing on so much he didn’t even have time to think of it.

  ‘Please don’t be like that, Tessie, you know it upsets me. I’m trying to keep everything together by myself. It’s not easy, you know.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, looking down as guilt trickled in with her anger.

  ‘You smell like bleach, honey. Why don’t you take a shower while I cook?’

  ‘I might have a run first,’ she said, going straight into her room before she could get any more upset.

  ‘I’ll just leave some food on the stove for you, okay?’ her mum called.

  ‘Yep, okay!’ she called back.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she heard her mum mutter sourly.

  Pulling on her running clothes, her head was beginning to pound. She felt as though she might hit something. She settled for slamming the door with all her strength as she left; her mum could just blame it on the wind.

  Goosebumps covered her bare arms as she ran out of the motel, so she pushed on harder. She’d be hot soon and sweating. The wind really had flared up. She kept her head down to avoid anything blowing into her eyes. You were meant to warm up slowly, but Tessie didn’t. She went straight into a full-pelt run. She tried to push the ugliness out of her; she hated the stewing mix of guilt and anger that filled her up. How stupid to think that the others would ever want to be her friend. She was sure everyone could see it, the aggression she carried around. The weird way she acted. Her fear. Why would anyone want to spend time with someone like that? She didn’t care anyway, she was happier alone.