Page 97 of The Vanishing Place
“I’m not signing that thing.” Effie pulled a face. “I can smell it from here.”
Lewis grinned. “Just give it another four weeks.”
“Gross.” Then she frowned. “Don’t you have to be at that fancy school of yours?”
“It’s not that fancy. But nah. Griff picked me up a couple of weeks early. Said there was something better waiting for me at home.” Heglanced away, like maybe he was blushing. “Plus, the end of term’s all shows and sports and dancing. I’d be right bored.”
Effie wiped her hands down her sides. “Don’t you have some silly girlfriend who’ll be missing you?”
There were probably herds of them at the big school—girls with short skirts and boobs bulging under their tops. Effie had seen them on the cover ofSeventeenmagazine: all skinny with perfect hair and “moves to make guys go wild.” June wouldn’t let Effie buy any of the magazines though, so she’d never seen past the cover, never learned what those moves were. It probably involved a lot of butt-jiggling.
“Nah. High school girls are tough work. Stuck-up too.”
Effie shrugged like she didn’t care, like it wasn’t one of the best things Lewis had ever said.
“Why did the police guy bring you back?”
“Griff,” said Lewis. “He’s been taking me to school since I started. Nan’s not too comfortable with driving long distances.”
“Oh.”
“Come on.” He lifted a crutch and pointed ahead. “I said I’d help Whaea out, tutor some of the little ones.” His mouth curled upward. “Are you needing any help with your ABCs?”
She glared at him. “I will beat you to death with your own crutches.”
Lewis smiled. “Calm down, tiger.” Then as they walked off, he moved his arm slightly so his hand brushed against hers and the tips of Effie’s fingers touched his.
—
The next ten days were magic.
As Lewis couldn’t walk much, and his foot sweated real bad when they went to the beach, they spent lots of time in June’s living room playing cards and flicking through his textbooks. June had letEffie skive off the baby school on the condition that Lewis taught her some maths and geography. The world was massive, and maps were possibly one of the coolest things ever. Lewis and Effie spent hours studying June’s Topo maps and testing each other with grid references. Lewis was a bit useless at it.
Toward the end of the first week, Effie overheard Dad and June talking about what would happen when she turned thirteen soon. June had suggested she could board at the school in Alexandra with Lewis, and Dad hadn’t said no. He hadn’t quite said yes either, but it definitely wasn’t a no. Effie had smiled for so long that her face had started to hurt and Lewis asked if she was trying to hold in a fart. She had wanted to die of embarrassment.
—
One day before the nativity show—which, apparently, Effie still had to do—she and Lewis were hanging out at the rusty playground. Sea air rusted everything.
Lewis was sitting on the swing and Effie was practicing her lines. She had already hurled the baby Jesus into the bush twice for its insolence. It kept looking at her, judging her with its broken, half-shut eye.
Little shit.
“I think you’re meant to love it,” Lewis shouted as Effie rummaged through the bush. “You know, be maternal and stuff.”
“And you’re meant to be helpful, not a mouthy possum turd.”
Effie held the baby up by its hard plastic foot.
“I reckon you’ve hurt its feelings,” said Lewis.
Effie frowned. “Do you think I have to hold it? Maybe I could just leave it in its manger thing.”
“Social services might do you for neglect.”
Effie scowled, then poked a finger into its broken eye, trying to stop the fake eyelid from closing. As she jabbed at it, the distantthud of footsteps made her look up. Not the slow beat of a walk, but the hurried pounding of fear.
“Effie!”
