flowers and stuff, and others which were filled with weeds. Number 87 had to be in the middle of that stretch.
There was no-one out in front, at least that’s what I first thought. As we passed the place next door I could see that the Russells had a really nice garden, with some fuchsias and two miniature trees that looked like they might have apples or pears in summer, and a brick path leading from the front gate to the veranda. The house wasn’t the greatest though. The window frames hadn’t been painted for a long time and were getting a bit rotten, and it was a long time since the gutter on the roof had held any water. Maybe they didn’t have much money.
The front gate was open, which I hoped was done deliberately, to invite Gavin in, but then my heart gave a great flip as I realised that the front door was open as well, and above it was a big sign on white paper, done in a child’s clumsy printing, with lots of hearts and stars and smiley faces, and the words Welcome Back Gavin.
I felt my nerves fade and a glow spread from my body to my face. I know a huge smile was forming. I hurried forward, clutching Gavin, almost dragging him with me.
I was expecting to see a little girl pop out, followed by her foster parents I guess, so all my concentration was on the doorway. The dark movement from the front corner of the house took me by surprise. A thought started to form in my head, ‘Oh, they’re coming around the side,’ but then I realised there was no access at the sides of the house, and that someone must have been standing there in the shadows. I glanced across and saw a man. Gavin had already seen him.
I can remember the next few seconds as though they took a minute and a half. As I noticed the man, Gavin’s face was already turning towards me and his mouth opening. The man, who was a weaselly-looking guy wearing a tracksuit, probably thirty-five or so, said, ‘Hello Gavin.’ Gavin wouldn’t have heard this, or rather seen it. I saw Gavin’s mouth open, and it was weird, I almost read the word before my ears heard it. It was like my eyes sent the word to my brain before my ears did.
It figures. I guess the speed of light is faster than the speed of sound.
He said only one word. ‘Run.’
He let go my hand and took off, back through the gate and turning right, down Green Street, the way we’d come. I took off after him, and the man took off after both of us.
I did half shut the gate as I went. I tried to shut it completely but it didn’t catch, and bounced back, which, as I could see looking around, slowed the guy by a couple of seconds. Boy, did we need those couple of seconds. I didn’t know if he had a weapon or not, but there had been something menacing about him even before Gavin spoke. Now his eyes were narrowed and he had a look of total determination. I didn’t think he had Gavin’s best interests at heart. I stopped looking at him and raced on, swinging right after Gavin, along the street we’d taken just a few minutes before.
As I ran, the question pounded in my head: What the hell is happening?’
Gavin was ahead of me by thirty or forty metres. He was flying. All that pent-up emotion which had grown in him day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, as I first pressed him to come to the city, and as we got closer and closer to Rosie, had now translated into energy. I was struggling, trying to get my second wind. I took a quick glance behind again and realised the guy was gaining. I didn’t really need to look: the pounding of his footsteps could have told me that.
I wondered what would happen if and when he caught up with me. Would he overtake me and keep going after Gavin? It was like his life depended on catching Gavin. What if he was seriously out to hurt Gavin? Sure seemed that way. Maybe I was just a nuisance in the equation. On the other hand, if he was going to hurt Gavin, then what would he do about me?
There didn’t seem to be witnesses to this so far. I hadn’t seen anyone appear in the corridor of the house during the couple of seconds that we’d been inside their front garden. And the streets of Marlon were quiet.
I guess it was Gavin’s recent lifestyle that convinced him to head for the bush. The only bush available of course was the park. If he’d thought about it, he would have been safest in a crowded place. A shopping centre would have been ideal. Or, if he was so determined to go to the park, a dive straight into the middle of a football match would have been just as good. But during the war Gavin had learnt to go for cover, to get away from people, to avoid trouble, to hide. And since the war he’d learnt to trust the outdoors, and he’d developed a confidence in himself when he was in the open. So he wasn’t thinking shopping centres or football teams.
We sprinted two and a half blocks. That is a long long way. Crossing one street Gavin nearly got hit by a taxi. The guy swerved and hit the brakes, letting off enough smoke from the tyres to attract the CFA. At the next crossing I nearly belted straight into a woman on a bicycle. She had to swerve and brake pretty fast too. The way she abused me! I didn’t even look around.
I did think though, as I raced on, that there was one positive about these near misses. At least there were now two witnesses to our mad sprint. I don’t know if they saw the guy chasing us, but if we both got murdered, then the taxi driver and the cyclist could give evidence at the inquest. Maybe then they’d start checking to see why we were running.
It wasn’t a very comforting thought. I decided I’d better concentrate on getting away from the weaselly guy.
Ahead of me, Gavin belted across the road next to the park. He was still running strongly, driven by demons that I didn’t know about. But he was pretty fit. This road was wide and looked like it would normally be very busy, but there wasn’t a car to be seen. I didn’t dare look around again, but I knew the guy was even closer to me, probably within ten metres. Gavin was no more than twenty-five metres ahead, so we had gained on him, probably because we were both bigger and stronger and took longer strides. But the way the guy was panting, I’d say he was feeling the strain, and the way my chest and legs felt, I was definitely feeling the strain, and I thought Gavin would be reaching his limit too.
I was praying for him to head left, towards the football games, but he headed right, into the trees.
Of course it was nothing like the bush. These were nice old trees, elms and oaks and things like that, not a lot of leaves on them at this time of the year, but big thick trunks. Gavin ran straight down a bitumen path, then veered off across the lawn. He was heading for the thickest clump of trees, but I couldn’t see how this was a good plan. Wherever he hid, the guy only had to look behind a maximum of a dozen trees to find him. It was a pretty short-sighted strategy.
I glanced back again at the man. He still had that look of absolute determination, his face focused on one thing only. And he must have been fitter than I thought, fitter than his panting had suggested. He looked full of running. Ahead, Gavin had disappeared. He’d chosen one of those trees and was behind it right now.
I swerved left, ducked behind a tree, then used it as cover to get behind the next one. This was like a childhood game of hide’n’seek, except it was no game. I’d seen expressions like this guy’s before. To me it meant only one thing. He wanted to do grievous bodily harm.
He came after me. He skidded around the tree I’d just left, and when he saw I wasn’t there came straight for the tree I’d chosen. Watching with the corner of my eye, I saw that one thing had changed. He was now carrying a knife. The blade must have been twenty centimetres long, if not thirty. That is a knife.
I broke cover and bolted across another path, swerved behind a gum tree, and zigzagged around a couple more trees, getting a glimpse of him at one stage. But he didn’t see me. I was now behind one of the English trees, a thin young one. I took the risk of going back across the path again, hoping to find Gavin. Now the man saw me. So much for all that zigzagging. I’d wasted my advantage. I headed back towards the first couple of trees, but as I did I saw Gavin. The man must have flushed him out because Gavin was now running like crazy down the second path.
The man was following Gavin. I set out on a different route, to meet Gavin at the fountain. I don’t think the guy saw me at any stage. He’d somehow hidden the knife again. I don’t know how he did that, unless it was one of those trick knives that retract into the shaft. I guess he could have shoved it into his tracksuit pocket, but he’d want to be careful. He was gaining on Gavin. Gavin reached the fountain about three seconds before me, chucked a right, and went down another path, then immediately charged off to the left. I followed him. I’d say the guy was about three seconds behind.
Gavin had disappeared again, behind one of the trees. I chose a tree at random, knowing the guy was too close and he’d see me for sure. But I was close to my limit and couldn’t do much else. I did at least choose the widest tree I could find, a big pine.
We started another one of those childhood games, except that I don’t think this one has a name, just me circling the trunk, and him doing the same, me trying not to meet, him trying very hard to get closely acquainted. It was bluff and double bluff. Rock scissors paper, trying to anticipate what your opponent will do. I edged around to
