The Blue Gum Camp, page 17
‘You don’t “try bi”,’ Faith said.
‘With the shortage of guys, we could all end up going that way,’ Kaylee insisted. ‘I mean, isn’t that biological evolution, or something?’
‘Some of us are already evolved, then,’ Paris proclaimed.
‘We are?’ Faith cocked an eyebrow.
‘Who didn’t make out with a gal pal at uni?’ Paris made it sound as though she’d spent years on her tertiary education, not less than a semester.
‘Drunk-snogging your friend at a party has literally nothing to do with being bi.’ Faith flicked her ponytail forward, toying with the ends, and Charity knew she was annoyed.
‘I’m going to park over there,’ Hope interrupted, lifting one hand from the steering wheel to indicate a dead-end lane that led off the main street. ‘According to Maps, the centre of Mount Gambier is compact enough that we can walk to the shops.’ She pulled into a space between a small public garden and the library.
‘Saying that you’re bi because you’ve made out with a girl—and let’s be honest, you probably did it to turn on some random guys—is the same as saying you’re a vegetarian because you once ate broccoli with your steak when it was served at a dinner party.’ Faith’s voice was unusually tight.
‘Exactly,’ Kaylee agreed. ‘It’s all about having the meat and the veg.’
Faith closed her eyes for a long moment and Charity knew she was internalising, searching for the calm that rarely deserted her. ‘That’s not what I mean,’ she said. ‘I know it’s cool to claim to be bi and there’s a tsunami of celebrities trotting out the “I idolised this girl at school, therefore I must be bi” line. But when they say they admired someone of the same gender, or fantasised—’ she gave the back of Paris’s head a hard glare ‘—about drunk pashing a same-sex friend, believe me, they’re not bi. They’re either running off at the mouth or experimenting. Because being bisexual is falling in love—or wanting to have sex—with another human, irrespective of how they are gendered. Whether they are female, male, or other isn’t relevant; it’s the desire, the attraction, the connection, that counts.’
Kaylee sat forward. ‘So being bi would be like being colourblind?’ she said, clearly pleased with her major anthropological discovery. ‘Bisexuals don’t know what gender the other person is, they don’t recognise it?’
‘Genital blind,’ Paris tittered.
Faith sighed and cracked her door. ‘Yep. Sure.’
‘Can you imagine how many hook-ups we’d have if we were bi?’ Paris called to Kaylee over the roof of the car as they clambered out.
There was a moment’s silence, as though none of the Farrugia girls wanted to tackle the statement.
Faith shook her head, slumping against Bee. ‘You do realise that bisexuality is not synonymous with promiscuity? As in, a bisexual person can have a monogamous relationship, regardless of the gender of their partner.’
‘Sure,’ said Kaylee, sounding uncertain. ‘But why would they?’
‘Anyway,’ Hope said loudly, beeping the hatchback locked as everyone stood around, stretching in the sunshine and adjusting their clothes. Or, in Paris’s case, extending her arm and pouting as she took selfies with the gardens in the background. ‘You girls—’ she indicated her friends ‘—head that way. I’ll catch up in a sec.’
As Paris and Kaylee wandered down the street, Hope whirled to face her sisters. ‘What the hell? Are you trying to piss them off?’
‘Calm down,’ Charity murmured, aware of the visitors admiring the landscaped gardens of the thirty-metre-deep sinkhole.
‘Calm down!’ Hope retorted, more loudly. ‘How about you tell Faith to stop being so ridiculous?’
‘Me, ridiculous? Your friends’ ignorance isn’t exactly conducive to holding an adult conversation,’ Faith said, unusually heated.
Hope slammed her hands on her hips, dropping the car keys. ‘I invited you two along to have fun, not to lecture my friends. I can’t even tell if you want to irritate or ingratiate, Faith, but you’re trying way too hard to fit in.’
‘Fitting in is the last thing I’m bothered about,’ Faith replied.
Wrinkles appeared above Hope’s dark glasses. ‘Then why are you on about sexuality like some woke college kid? We all get the rainbow—that’s my generation’s thing.’
‘Ouch,’ Charity said. It was one thing for her to feel like she was far older than her sister, another to be told.
‘Wait!’ Hope stumbled back and Charity instinctively reached for her, as though there was a risk her sister would plummet into the fenced sinkhole. Hope shoved her glasses to the top of her head. Finally removing her blinkers, Charity thought with a degree of amusement.
‘Faith, are you trying to … come out?’ Hope whispered, letting the words drift into nothingness.
Her equanimity returned, Faith simply kept her gaze level, refusing to help her sister. Charity’s mouth twitched with mean amusement, but she couldn’t help it; if Hope had been a little less self-absorbed, she would have known the truth years ago.
‘But I’ve seen you with guys,’ Hope protested.
‘That’s kind of the point,’ Faith said calmly. ‘I’m not gay.’
‘Then what on earth are you banging on about?’
‘I’m not banging on about anything. I’m educating your friends. And, not that it’s actually your business, and not that I need to “come out”, as you say, but I’m bi.’
Hope gasped. ‘You can’t be.’
‘Oh? Good to know.’ A smile played around her lips, and Charity realised Faith was enjoying the revelation.
‘You know what I mean,’ Hope said. ‘Of course you can be.’ Her voice took on the familiar nasal whine she employed when she felt excluded. Her mouth tightened as she glared at each of them. ‘Charity knew, didn’t she? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Well, like I said, it’s none of your business. And, unlike you, I don’t find it necessary to headline everything that’s going on in my life.’ Faith said. ‘But in any case,’ she said more gently, ‘I am telling you. Now.’
‘But you always join in our conversations about guys,’ Hope objected. She thrust her hand up in a surprisingly authoritarian manner as Paris called for her to join them.
‘Think it through, Hope,’ Faith said patiently.
‘What?’ Hope snapped. Then she looked sheepish. ‘Oh, yeah. Right. Look, it’s going to take me a hot minute to get my head around this, okay?’ She glared at Charity. ‘Anything you want to tell me while we’re doing this revelation crap? Like, I was a teen pregnancy and you’re secretly my mother or something?’
Charity laughed. ‘Barely even mathematically possible.’
‘Thank heaven for small mercies.’
‘I’d say that’s a pretty big mercy,’ Faith teased. ‘Imagine if you had to start doing everything Charity said?’
‘Hey, how did this get to be about me?’ Charity protested, but it was pointless. It always happened this way, with two sisters ganging up against the third. Fortunately, the dynamics were in a perpetual state of ebb and flow, their personalities balancing one another. Earth, water and fire. Mum always said all three elements were necessary to make their family complete, and that they each needed to borrow from their sisters’ characteristics. Earth to ground them, help them remember their roots. Fire for being dynamic, able to accept change and transition—exactly as Hope was doing right now. And water, with the ability to be still or flow, to remain calm and clear, just as Faith could be relied on to be.
‘Anyway, if you two are done picking on me, we’d better get a move on. The shops will be shut soon.’ Charity tilted her head toward the sinkhole. ‘Plus, apparently there’s a suspended platform partway down the sinkhole. I’m going to take some snaps.’ Mum had always loved her garden, and photographs were a reminder, a fleeting connection with the mother Charity remembered. And they were the only way she could be certain her own memories would last. ‘Then I’ll check in with Dad. Any messages for him?’
‘Love,’ her sisters chorused, then grinned at one another.
‘Can I have your keys?’ Charity called as Hope retrieved them from the ground and started to follow her friends.
Hope hesitated, then handed them over. The loan of Bee signified that, in her usual mercurial manner, she had already forgiven Charity. ‘Did you want me to look out for something you can wear tonight?’
Charity recognised the olive branch. ‘No. Thanks, though. I’m going to see what I can rescue.’
‘Faith?’ Hope raised her voice as she crossed the road.
‘I’m good. Skye said she’d lend me something.’
Charity snapped her attention back from placing the keys in her handbag. ‘Oh. What? How did I miss this?’ she said as she caught the slight flush mounting Faith’s cheeks.
‘Self-absorbed,’ Faith said, not meeting her gaze. ‘Another genetic failing. Guess you were just being selfishly busy wrapped in a near-death experience.’
Now that Charity thought about it, Faith had been oddly urgent about her need to go and find fresh clothes the moment she was certain Charity was tucked safely in Lachlan’s swag that morning. The thought of Lachlan’s bed, the rough sheets smelling faintly of man and old woodsmoke, shot a frisson of desire through her. She shook it off. ‘Well, don’t think I’m not going to tease you,’ she said. ‘You’ve been giving me a hard time about Lachlan.’
‘How funny would it be if, after not wanting to come to this thing, you and I found someone here?’
‘How likely is that?’ Charity scoffed.
‘Are you actually asking? Like, for statistics?’
Embarrassingly, Charity suddenly did want to know with absolute statistical certainty if she could find happiness in the middle of a random paddock. She started along the path that wound beside manicured lawns. Faith fell into step with her. The mix of rich floral and sharp spice from the standard rose bushes lining the path, heads drooping in the early afternoon heat, stirred memories of hours spent in the garden with Mum. ‘I doubt a B&S Ball is the foundation for a relationship.’
Faith leaned over the post-and-rail fence to peer at the cave far below. ‘I guess it’s no less likely than ending up with someone from a dating app. Actually, probably more valid, as we get to meet the real person straight up, not a bogus profile.’
Charity quashed the excitement that surged. Practical and grounded, of course she recognised the impossibility of their situation: no one went to a country hook-up and walked away with a viable relationship.
Did they?
‘You don’t think it’s bizarre?’ she said. ‘The fact that there are people here that we … like.’
Faith chuckled. ‘I like lots of people. Though maybe don’t tell Hope’s crew that, it’ll be misconstrued.’ She gave Charity a gentle smile. ‘It’s life that’s bizarre. And messy and sad and confusing and wonderful. Tragic and hilarious, all in the same moment. And sometimes you have to let go of the reins, Charity. Sit back and go with the flow. Enjoy the ride.’
Charity shook her head. It wasn’t in her to lose control. It was her job to look after her family, not to allow her imagination to run wild.
She snapped some photos, not taking the time to frame the picture. Mum would never look at them. The sinkhole was about the width of a small house. A bitumen path spiralled around the inside, leading down through terraced gardens featuring an eclectic mix of bushes, vines, ferns and ground cover hanging in curtains from the sheer walls. Far below, black volcanic rock glistened damply as a waterfall, probably caused by the previous evening’s storm, trickled and splashed from a channel gouged by time into the rock surface. ‘How do they maintain the gardens in this place?’
‘Don’t know. Apparently the sinkhole was the original town water supply,’ Faith said, ‘but it’s been a park for nearly a hundred and fifty years. I’m going to stretch my legs and have a closer look. Do you want me to get some photos?’
‘I think the exercise might be more in the walking back up. Yes to the photos.’ Charity hefted a plastic bag. ‘The library is still open, so I’m going to pop in, see if they can point me to a laundromat.’
‘Sounds exciting.’ Faith tapped her pocket. ‘Give me a ring when you’re done, we’ll hunt down coffee. And call Dad.’
‘What’s happened?’ Paris gasped as Hope slowed the car. A couple of t-shirted bouncers stood at the entrance to the Yurramukka campground, another pair manned the open gate to an adjacent paddock. The title SECURITY was emblazoned in white across their black shirts. While the women had been shopping in Mount Gambier, the few hundred campers of the previous night had somehow exploded to well over a thousand, their vehicles parked randomly all over the second paddock. A large flat-bed farm truck had found a new life as a concert stage in the middle of the paddock, the band belting out music loud enough to vibrate the stacked amplifiers and dusty side-mirrors.
One of the bouncers leaned down to the window as Hope pulled up. ‘Wristbands, ladies?’ As they dutifully held up their arms to display the colourful rubber bracelets that proved they had tickets for the ball, he nodded. ‘And no food dye on board?’
‘Food dye?’ Hope repeated.
‘Banned substance. Along with several others, but I’m not going to ask you about them.’ The bouncer winked.
‘Clearly, there’s not much point asking about the dye,’ Paris said as she gazed at the adjacent paddock. The relatively well-dressed crowds of the previous evening had morphed into a chaos of thongs, boots, denim shorts, t-shirts, Akubras and caps, and … colour. Hair, skin and clothing alike were tie-dyed with splotches, streaks and splashes of every imaginable shade.
‘Right?’ the bouncer agreed cheerfully. ‘Looks like a rainbow puked on itself in there. Glad there’s not too much green this year. Must have been on special last year at the IGA, and it was that all-natural stuff. Impossible to wash off. You got your baby wipes?’
‘Wipes?’ Kaylee squeaked.
‘The ones with alcohol in are the best thing for getting the dye off.’
‘But … we’re not allowed to have dye?’
‘Right you are,’ the bouncer said. ‘Are you campground, concert, ball or all three?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ Hope swivelled to look at Charity in the back seat, habitually handing the problem over to her sister.
Before Charity could react, the bouncer added, ‘Look on the inside of your band. It’ll be marked with the number. The more you paid, the more you get into.’
‘Three,’ Faith said, turning her bracelet inside out.
‘Good to go, then.’ The bouncer stepped back, sweeping his arm to encompass both paddocks. ‘Free access, ladies. Enjoy. And stay safe.’
Although his words were clearly a throwaway, the last phrase prickled uneasily up Charity’s spine. There were so many people here. So much alcohol. So much noise. It wasn’t anything like the country dance in rustic surroundings she’d pictured—and even anticipating that low level of sophistication, she had felt she should be there to keep her sisters safe. ‘I can’t say I’m too keen on heading over there,’ she said dubiously, staring toward the adjacent paddock as they pulled up at their repaired tent.
‘The band?’ Hope said, her tone full of bravado. ‘It’s part of the experience.’
‘The part that you didn’t know we were having,’ Faith pointed out.
‘Whatever,’ Hope huffed.
Trepidation trickled through Charity. Hope had a tendency to make poor decisions when she was called out. Add in the wine-with-lunch-fuelled presence of her two friends, and things were likely to go sideways fast. ‘How about we go check out how they’ve tricked up the hall, first? Besides, if people are flinging around food-colouring, you don’t want to get covered. Time enough for that tomorrow.’ Hopefully by then the crowd would either have run out of dye or be too hungover to bother with it.
‘I’m one hundred per cent not down for dye at any time,’ Paris said, oblivious to the irony as her hand shifted protectively to her highlighted hair.
‘Good point,’ Hope agreed quickly.
She could be far too easily led, Charity reflected with a twinge of renewed concern. She would have to keep a close eye on Hope, like Mum had insisted.
17
Lachlan
‘You must really like blue.’
Standing in the queue to enter the hall, Charity startled at his words, and Lachlan felt a little guilty. Her smile as both she and Faith spun toward him did away with that, though.
‘Blue? Why so?’
‘Your biggest concern early this morning was that iodine would clash with the blue dress you’d brought along. I ran into Hope and the others further back in the queue, and she said you’d all gone into the Mount today to replace your ruined outfits. Yet here you are, totally rocking blue.’
The main street of Yurramukka was awash with colour and movement as the stream of people from the campground surged through the town and beyond the hall, to where revelry and revving engines were evidence of diehards still doing circle work in their tricked-up utes.
‘Ah.’ The sound was soft with surprise, as though she’d not expected him to remember, but Faith chuckled knowingly. ‘I’m a tight arse,’ Charity said. ‘I went to the laundromat while the others hit the shops.’
‘Good call.’ Unlike most of the women headed to the hall, Charity’s dress was modest, showing just enough golden skin to tantalise. Though she could probably have worn a wheat sack and he’d have been interested.
With an effort, he refocused his attention. ‘Sorry, cutting in,’ he said to the group behind the two women. It had taken him ages to find Charity in the crowd and he wasn’t about to lose her now, after Hamish’s plan for them to meet the women at a winery hadn’t worked out.
‘To be fair,’ Charity said as they shuffled a few feet closer to the hall, ‘my biggest concern last night was actually death by electrocution.’
‘True enough.’
‘I’m pretty sure you had other things on your mind, too,’ Faith said, her voice lilting with humour.
‘And I’m pretty sure I saw Skye ahead of us,’ Charity said, glaring at her sister. ‘You might want to go check.’
