Annie
I made sure I scheduled in some downtime between exams and starting work. Not for Bible study or field service, but to ride, read, watch old movies, or to simply lie under our budding peach tree and wait for the mosquitos to find me.
It feels a bit like freedom.
‘Why don’t you come help me for the day?’ Mum says on Tuesday. ‘You could earn a bit of extra cash.’
I don’t want money. I want time. ‘I thought I might go riding, then see if Tamsin wants to go to the beach in the afternoon.’
‘Tamsin?’ Mum’s porridge-loaded spoon pauses mid-air. ‘What about Donna? She loves the beach.’
I sigh inwardly. ‘Actually, she doesn’t love the beach. She complains endlessly about the sand sticking to everything.’
She sets her spoon down. ‘You know, I understand the need to have someone at school, in your own year level, going through the same things you’re going through. But school’s over now. It’s pointless to put effort into worldly friendships.’
I watch my Weet-Bix soak up milk in my bowl.
‘Tamsin’s a nice girl, but she’s about to go off and pursue her worldly goals,’ she continues. ‘That might make you question your own path.’
I don’t need Tamsin for that. I’ve been questioning my path since I was fifteen. ‘I understand where you’re coming from, but it doesn’t feel right to cut her from my life without cause.’
Mum picks up her bowl and carries it over to the sink. ‘I can only offer you advice, not force you to take it.’ She starts rinsing dishes.
‘Leave those. I’ll do them.’
She smiles at me as she collects her handbag from the counter.
‘I thought tomorrow I might call the real estate agent and organise a viewing of one of those vacant flats near the school,’ I say as she’s preparing to leave.
‘They’re vacant for a reason. Rat-infested mould hubs.’
‘I guess a rat-infested mould hub will be all I can afford next year.’
Mum walks by me on her way to the door. ‘You’re always welcome to stay here, you know. Pay a bit of board. Buy some groceries occasionally. Much cheaper.’
Nothing will change if I stay here. My life will be exactly the same. I’ll be exactly the same. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.’
‘You can do dinner since you have all the time in the world,’ Mum says on her way out. ‘There are chops in the freezer.’
When the front door finally closes, I release a long breath. Finally, some peace. I scrape my soggy Weet-Bix into the bin, then do the dishes.
With the chops now thawing, I change into riding clothes and head to the creek paddock to saddle Charlie. He’s pawing at the gate.
‘Only me.’ I still feel the need to say that, and I’m certain I can sense his disappointment.
In the distance, I can hear the sound of panicked sheep being rounded up. I sneak a look and see Hunter on his bike and Tess doing her best to maintain order, but there are sheep dispersing in all directions. I have no idea what Hunter’s doing or why he’s doing it alone, but I can hear his frustration in his instructions to Tess.
‘Round the back. Round the back!’ is carried on the breeze.
Sighing, I mount Charlie and head down to the water, raising my feet so they don’t get wet when we cross. Thankfully Banjo’s on the chain, because I’d intended to go out on the road and didn’t want him getting hit by a car.
Hunter’s at the top of the paddock, watching the sheep pass through. I spot four huddled together in the shade away from the flock, so I head for them, waving my arm to get them moving. ‘I think you’re wanted in the top paddock, ladies.’
They take off up the hill, and I follow them to ensure they don’t get distracted on the way.
Hunter looks in my direction as he wipes the sweat off his face. It’s not overly hot, so it’s safe to assume it’s stress related.
‘Where’s your dad?’ I shout.