Dad sighs out through his nose. ‘Well, he was knocked around, I could see that. Big shiner on one eye, and he was moving funny. He wasn’t like he is now – this was before he got a bit of height and meat on. He was just this skinny little bugger, with about two inches of ankle showing where he was growing out of his jeans. I said to him,Harris, are you okay?Like, of course he wasn’t okay, why was I even asking? But he said he was fine. That he fell off his mate’s dirtbike.’
Dad shakes his head. I can see it’s hurting him to remember, and the hurt is because the situation made him feel powerless. And I totally get that.
‘Well, I didn’t want to get him in more trouble. Bad enough I’d even shown up in Dennis’s yard. But I asked him anyway, straight out –Harris, did your dad lay into you?And he just looked at me. He didn’t say anything, but his face…’
Suddenly I can imagine this picture with frightening clarity. Because Harris would’ve worn the same expression then as he did on Tuesday, when I asked him whether he was in pain.
Don’t whitewash it. Just tell me.
Now I understand why it was so impossible for him to answer. The idea makes me sick. It’s weird, too, knowing this personal stuff about Harris. I can picture the scene so vividly, it makes me feel like a voyeur.
I have to swallow before I can speak again. ‘What did you do?’
‘Wasn’t anything Icoulddo,’ Dad says softly. ‘Had to get back in the squad car and drive away. Praying the whole time that Dennis wouldn’t make Harris pay for me showing up. That was the worst part – knowing I might’ve caused more harm just by visiting.’
‘That’s… Dad, that’s awful.’
‘Yeah. They’re the times you really hate the job.’ He sighs again, and I know his thoughts have strayed. Now he’s thinking of another lost boy, and the efforts he’ll have to make to find him. ‘Look, are you gonna be right tonight if I go to Mildura?’
‘I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. But if you finish later than nine-thirty, you should stay the night with the Murphy’s.’
‘Amie, it’s only an hour back from Mildura –’
‘Seriously, Dad, just think about the time before you get in the car to drive home. I don’t want to worry about you writing yourself off because you had a dizzy spell, or fell asleep behind the wheel.’ I drain my glass, stand up to take the dirty crockery to the sink. ‘I might go out with the camera for a bit this arvo. Call Nani and say hi.’
‘Sounds good. Okay, I’d better move.’ He stands up, collects his stuff off the table, then stops when he looks down to put his keys in his pocket. ‘Shit, I’ve still got this bloody apron on.’
I can’t help but grin. ‘You look nice in floral.’
‘Matches my eyes.’ He unties the apron, looking sheepish, before pecking me on the cheek. ‘See you later on, love.’
Once Dad’s driven off and I’ve finished rinsing the dishes, I go back to my room and flop on the bed. But I can’t nap now, it’s too late in the day, and my mind is too busy. Harris Derwent’s face keeps materialising inside my skull. I drag on my boots, grab my camera and my keys, close the front door behind me.
Don’t whitewash it.I feel stupid for having said that, now I’ve got Harris’s full story.Just tell me. As if it were easy. As if he would. He’s probably so used to hiding his hurt, it’s weird to talk about it.
And maybe – now that he’s living with his father again – talking is too dangerous.
