Hunter
I spend Saturday morning helping Dad repair fences around the property, then throw down a sandwich before heading to the creek to wait for Annie. Technically, I should be studying for my biology exam all weekend. It’s crazy how much my priorities have shifted in the past few weeks.
The creak of the rope swing has me looking up, and my eyes meet Annie’s as her feet land on my side of the creek. She has this huge smile that turns my insides to pulp. I stand up, surprised when she runs to me instead of walking. No one’s ever run to me before. No one’s ever been this excited to see me. Except maybe Mum.
Annie greets me like we’re a couple instead of two misfits fooling around, kissing me and taking my hand. I’m not scared of much, but the ease of our interactions scares the shit out of me. I think she’s forgotten that this isn’t a relationship. It’s easy enough to do.
‘What are we doing?’ she asks.
We’re hiding from the world, touching in secret, pretending we’re not limited to the farm and this moment isn’t fleeting. ‘How long do you have?’
‘An hour. Two at most.’ She startles suddenly. ‘Oh, I know. You could show me the dam, the one you used to swim in when you were a kid.’
‘How do you know about that?’
She tilts her head. ‘Because we were in a combined grades three and four class together, remember? You told everyone during show and tell.’
I don’t remember that, and I can’t believe she does.
‘Come on,’ she says, pulling me up the hill. ‘Sun’s out. We can take our shoes and socks off and sit on the jetty.’
We follow the sheep tracks to the next paddock, then head down to the dam. It’s sitting at around 80 percent capacity after a wet winter, which is great as we head into summer.
‘I didn’t know you had a boat,’ Annie says, pointing to the beat-up tinny tied to the jetty. ‘Can we go on it?’
I used to row Mum around in it when I was a kid, and I haven’t been in it since. ‘It’ll probably be full of water.’
‘Then we’ll empty it,’ she replies, undeterred.
We take off our shoes and socks and spend a few minutes scooping dirty water out of the bottom. The tinny’s rusted and filthy, but Annie doesn’t seem to mind. She might not come from a farming family, but she’s a country girl at her core.
When we’ve gotten most of the water out, I help her into the boat, then climb in after her. ‘Ready?’ I ask as I place the oars in the water.
She nods. ‘Ready.’
I row us out into the middle of the dam, then pull the oars in. Annie turns her face up to the sun and closes her eyes. It reminds me of Mum. When she was going through chemo, she told me it helped with the nausea. I don’t think it made much of a difference towards the end, though.
‘Will you be happy here working on the farm?’ Annie asks, looking at me.
I squint out at the water. ‘Yeah, I think so. It’s not the place, but the life you build, right?’
She draws her knees up. ‘And what kind of life will you build?’
‘Something simple, peaceful.’
She watches me a moment. ‘Just think, one day your kids might be playing in this boat.’
Discussing anything in the future feels like dangerous territory. ‘Hopefully I can afford something a bit better by then.’ I lean forwards. ‘Just need to dig us out of this financial dumpster fire first.’
‘Are you guys managing okay? You won’t lose the farm or anything?’
I shake my head. ‘Nah. Once I’m done with school, I’ll get on top of things. There’s money coming in. Dad just…’ I don’t finish. I don’t have to because she knows.
It’s warm in the sun, so I tug my jumper off. Annie’s gaze falls to the leather band she gave me in class last week. I haven’t taken it off since. She does me the favour of not mentioning it.
‘How long have you had the boat?’ she asks.
I have to really think about that. ‘Santa delivered it Christmas Eve in 1988.’