Girl Next Door - Alyssa Brugman [20]
After I've rinsed the plates I join them in the lounge room. We sit silently in a semicircle around the empty TV unit.
The last time we had a blackout was on a Saturday afternoon. Dad rang the electricity company. He said you should always be a squeaky wheel. He said to get what you want in this life you need to be proactive.
The lady from the electricity company said they had scheduled work to do and that it would only be a few hours. Dad got really mad, because he thought they should have let us know in advance. The lady from the company said that if you let people know then that just gives them something to complain about. He was purple with rage when he got off the phone and he marched around the house pointing out all the things we couldn't use.
Mum, Will and I had jumped in the pool. Dad came out every few minutes to report on the electricity not being on, but by the time we got out of the water the power was on again and Dad was flicking through the Foxtel channels, trying to pretend there was something important that he wanted to watch. He had it on BBC World News, but when he thought we weren't listening he switched over to Everybody Loves Raymond.
Bryce Cole takes a sip of beer, and then he settles into his chair. He's not a squeaky wheel. He goes with the flow.
'Who knows a ghost story? Willem?' Mum prompts. She isn't a squeaky wheel either. She sees a glass half-full – even if it's actually an empty glass.
'I'm not telling any dumb story,' Will mumbles.
'Don't look at me,' I say quickly.
Bryce Cole is scratching the stubble on his chin again. 'Did you know there was a horse who carried almost seven kilos over his weight-for-age to win the Melbourne Cup? That was in 1930. In 1932 this same horse travelled from Australia to San Francisco by ship, and then by road eight hundred kilometres to Agua Calientes in the hot Mexican summer. Full winter coat. Runs on a dirt track, with a heel injury and steel bar shoes. Can you imagine it?'
Mum lies on the lounge listening. The candlelight makes wavering shadows on the walls. Will wraps his arms around his shins and rests his cheek on his knee. Bryce Cole takes another sip of his beer.
'This horse didn't just win. He came from last place to two lengths ahead, and clocked the track's best time.' Bryce Cole shook his head. 'Big, red thing bought for one hundred and sixty guineas. Must be the greatest athlete this country has ever seen. Can you see him in your mind's eye? Eating the track. Leaving the others in the dust. He wants to run. He'd burst his big old heart for you. Can you imagine it?'
I close my eyes. I can imagine the tall, ugly horse, chewing on his bit, ready to run, and it sends goose flesh up my arms.
'Yeah yeah, we learned about Phar Lap in year three,' Will says. 'That's not a ghost story.'
'Yes, it is,' Bryce Cole replies.
'How is it a ghost story?' Will scoffs.
'Phar Lap's dead, so he's a ghost,' I say.
It's gloomy inside the house. Outside there are puddles of light from the streetlights filtering through the trees, and glowing rectangles in our neighbour's houses. I sigh. The blackout is just our place, then.
After a while, Bryce Cole says, 'It's not enough to be dead. He also has to haunt us.'
9
HYPO
Declan is sitting at his kitchen bench with his hands over his eyes. His parents are out, so I can show him the surprise I've been promising.
I'm rattling around in the fridge. It's so full that I have to take things out and rearrange them to fit it all back in again. It looks so fresh and good. I see so many things I want. I'm even eyeing off the leftovers. When I'm finished there are two tall glasses on the bench.
'Okay, you can open your eyes now.'
Declan stares at the glasses. He lifts one to his lips and takes a tiny sip. 'You mixed the beer with lemonade.'
'That, my friend,' I say with a flourish, 'is a shandy! It's a real drink that you can order at a bar. At the track today I was telling Bryce Cole about how we don't like beer and he bought me one of