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Her devoutly religious mother and her gentle but damaged father
are fighting, and Mays boyfriend, Sam, has left their rural hometown
for Melbourne without so much as a backward glance.
When May lies to her parents and takes the train to visit Sam at his
shared house in Carlton, her world opens wide in glorious complexity.
May Callaghan wasnt
She is introduced to his housemates, Clancy, an indigenous university
frightened of a challenge.
student, and Ruby, a wild bohemian. With their liberal thinking and But shed never expected
opposition to the war in Vietnam, they are everything that Mays strict to face this.
Catholic upbringing should warn her against.
May knows too well the toll that war has taken on her father, and the
peace movement in the city has a profound effect on her. For a while,
Mays future burns bright. But then it begins to unravel, and something
EMILY BREWIN
happens to her that will change her life forever.
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The man with the peace sign on his chest weaves through the
crowd, back towards his rope hammock on the porch. As he
reaches the front door, he clicks his fingers loudly. Jimi Hendrix
leaps to life again on the record player, bursting through the
strained silence.
Rubys the first to danceslowly, as if emerging from
a dream. Her eyes close and her hips sway, her long skirts
swishing about her legs. The guitar soars then wheels above,
drawing others in, one by one, until the room pulses like a
heartbeat. Under the rose-coloured lights, the dancers faces
are fragile, their arms snaking overhead as if charmed by the
music. Couples creep out of dark corners, and the group sitting
cross-legged on the floor nearby climb to their feet. Soon theres
not a still body in sight. Except for mine.
I watch tentatively from the sidelines, wary of the chaotic
pull and thrust of limbs, of the heady scent of sweat and
She slides her sunglasses down her nose and fixes me with
a challenging stare. I know you go to the riverbend.
I huff. What?
Everyone knows.
I glare at her then glance around, half expecting a crowd of
onlookers. A small girl builds a sandcastle at the waters edge,
scurrying back and forth with buckets of sloppy mud and water.
No ones watching me, but I feel exposed.
Who knows?
Lucys eyes widen. Imagine if your mum found out. Its
like were kids again and shes blackmailing me over a piece of
pilfered cake from her mums pantry; shes always had a knack
for leaving me ragged while she skips lightly away. In a car
tooooh, the shame.
Lucy, if you mention this to anyone ...
She gives me the same noncommittal shrug I gave her a few
minutes earlier.
Lucy! I say and get up.
All right, keep ya knickers on! she says finally, laughing and
pulling on my arm. I wont talk. God, I dont want you locked
up for life. Who would I tell my dirty secrets to?
I wish I could laugh too but I cant because Im supposed to
be the serious one. The one who toes the line and never takes
risks; who wears her school dress below the knees and keeps
a Bible in the drawer next to her bed. Ma raised me that way.
She thinks its a givenI always do the right thing and
shes sure it will stay that way. Ill marry a God-fearing man and
produce a healthy squadron of children. Well live in a house
that Ma can boast to her friends about, and on the weekends
Ill shop for white goods at the big store in the next town.
I feel breathless just thinking about it. Sometimes I want
Ma to be more like Lucys mum, my Aunty Marj: a little bit
sloppy in her approach to raising children.
to each other: Ya lazy prick, put some effort into it, and, The
coachd kick your arse for that one, mate. Their feet are bare
and their hair is soaked with perspiration. Sam is stripped to
the waist. I think of the soft skin under his waistband, the tiny
corrugations of the elastic under my fingers. He takes long,
effortless strides across the field, sucking back the hot after-
noon air. When he leaps, he seems to hang in the sky, arms
hard and brawny, before snatching the ball to his chest.
I step on a stick. It digs through my thong and pokes my
foot, and I yelp.
Hey, Leon, reckon weve got a peeping Tom.
Leons face scrunches in confusion until Sam points to my
tree. I walk out sheepishly, remembering to suck in my tummy.
Happens all the time, Leon jokes, sheilas spying on me.
I go over to them, suppressing a smile.
They obviously cant resist your spectacular form, Sam
says, pointing at Leons paunch while draping an arm across
my shoulders. Its heavy and fuggy with sweat.
I just came from the river. I grip my towel with one hand
tostop it slipping and sense Leons eyes on me.
I noticed, Sam says, running a finger under the strap of my
bathers in a way I wish he wouldnt.
Ill leave you to it, mate. Leon winks at Sam, making me
cringe. See ya, May. He slips on his thongs and wheels his
pushbike out to the road.
Sam strolls to the tap next to the cricket club and turns
it on. He bends forward, letting the water gush through his
hair and over his shoulders. His back glistens and he shakes
his head when hes done. Then he cups his hands, drinks and
rinses his underarms in the careless way men do things.
I step closer and he throws a handful of water at me,
whooping with glee when I jump and my towel falls off.
Iscramble to put it back on.
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