Sing Fox to Me by Sarak Kanake Page B

River was almost thirteen. Clancy was standing inside the back door while Essie cleaned up after tea. Murray lifted River into the air and swirled her around as though she was made of rags. ‘Putmedown, putmedown!’ she shrieked.
    Essie was watching too. She’d been drying the same glass for almost five minutes.
    â€˜You right, love?’ he asked.
    â€˜Don’t you think they’re getting too old to be that … playful with each other?’
    â€˜Depends what you mean by playful.’
    â€˜They’re teenagers.’
    â€˜River’s not. Not really.’ Clancy was thankful she still wore baggy clothes.
    â€˜She’s almost thirteen. That’s high school. High school means teenager.’
    â€˜Yeah, but … she’s not like other girls.’
    â€˜Neither was I,’ said Essie.
    Outside, River squealed and broke free of Murray’s hands. She ran. He chased her, but she was faster than him, even though he was a good two feet taller.
    â€˜Bloody bugger off!’ she called over her shoulder.
    â€˜No way,’ said Murray. ‘I’m winning.’
    Essie plunged her hands into the soapy dishwater. She pulled out an almost-clean plate and started scrubbing. Her eyes stayed fixed on the kids.
    â€˜You’ve never said it out loud before,’ Clancy said quietly.
    â€˜And I won’t.’ She didn’t look at him.
    â€˜Murray’ll have to go away. George might want him told.’
    â€˜I understand.’
    â€˜You want me to talk to them?’
    Essie dropped the plate in the drying rack. Then she nodded. ‘River will be angry.’
    â€˜Face that when we get there,’ said Clancy. ‘He mightn’t want to go, or George might not let him.’
    Essie’s face fell. ‘None of us have much of a choice now.’
    Clancy nodded, and together they watched their daughter throw her arms around Murray’s neck and cover his face with kisses. He laughed and tried to shake her off.
    â€˜I love you, Moonie,’ she said.
    â€˜I do too,’ said Murray.
    Essie knocked on the window, and both kids looked up, startled. ‘Time for him to go,’ she said.
    Murray Bishop had been the first to be sent away from Clancy’s mountain.
    He shifted his weight back onto his crook leg. The space behind his missing kneecap groaned. Beyond the verandah, the bush sounded as restless as he was. He didn’t like thinking about seventeen-year-old Murray walking down his mountain, or River screaming from inside her locked room, or Essie crying by herself behind the water tanks. Clancy swallowed hard and tried to push his wild, angry sadness down through his ribcage and into his gut, but he couldn’t reach.
    â€˜Queenie!’ he called, as though he could call them all back home again.
    The bush beyond the fence quivered, like a huge snake digesting an animal whole, but Queen Elizabeth didn’t come.
    Jonah filled the kettle and placed it carefully on the stovetop. He was trying to start the burner when Clancy shambled in from outside and shoved him out of the way. ‘Let me.’ He turned a knob on the front of the oven and lit the almost-invisible gas that shimmered for a second over the burner.
    Jonah took a half-empty loaf of bread from the fridge and dropped two slices into the toaster.
    â€˜Did you sleep well?’ asked Jonah, because that was what his mum said every morning.
    Clancy grunted. It was the first time Jonah had seen him without his ponytail. The long, thin grey hair slipped over his shoulders like oily smoke.
    â€˜Me neither,’ said Jonah. ‘My bed’s really hard.’
    â€˜Which one you got?’ asked Clancy, although it didn’t sound as if he wanted an answer. He reached for the tin of tea and nudged the rusty lid off with his thumb.
    â€˜Under the big window.’
    â€˜It was good enough for your dad.’
    The toast popped. Jonah dropped both slices into