Floundering Read Online Free PDF Page B

funny to open the driver’s door. I get into the seat and the steering wheel is far away. I can touch it with my arms stretched out straight.
    Perfect, she says. She leans over me and fiddles with the gearstick. She turns the wheel a little to the left. She positions my hands. Okay, so hold it there – eight o’clock, twelve o’clock – and we’ll be just fine, she says. She closes the door. I want to hang my arm out the window, like Loretta does, but I don’t. I hold tightly to the wheel, it’s warm and sweaty under my palms.
    Just hold it steady, Tommo, she yells at me and quieter, Come on, Jordy, help me. You gotta push.
    I feel Bert rock beneath me, and I hear Loretta swearing. I look back, and they look scary in the weird red tail-light. I realise I have let go of the wheel. I grip it again, but I don’t know if I’m gripping it in the right spot.
    Loretta, I yell.
    Just hold it, Tom.
    But Loretta.
    Bert begins to move forward. It’s a quiet sound without the engine: the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels.
    Turn the wheel, Tom, Jesus. I don’t know what way to move my arms, so I just grip the wheel tighter. Bert stops moving. Loretta is at the window. She wrenches my arms to the left. There, she says.
    I hold it steady, and look down into my lap. They push Bert and the car inches off the road.
    Were you even pushing? she says to Jordy.
    Yeah, he says.
    She stalks back to the ignition and the headlights turn off.
    Out, she says and opens the door.
    I can’t see anything for a minute, so I just stand there quietly. I reach my hand out and touch the dusty side of Bert with my fingertips. He’s warm and I feel okay. Loretta’s face goes bright with her lighter, then there’s just the orange spot of her cigarette and the smell of smoke. I see her spot of light come close to me, pass and then she’s opening the boot, rustling.
    It’ll be alright in the morning, she says, but she’s saying it to herself.

    Jordy walks off into the bushes. I can see a little now, but it’s a way of seeing where everything is different shades of dark and frightening. I follow Jordy out there because I don’t know what else to do. I put my hand out to touch a bush, but it’s spikey as pins. Jordy turns around. Stop following me, he says.
    I’m not, I say. I let him walk further away. Did you hear that? I say.
    What? says Jordy.
    That?
    What?
    There are shifting shapes ahead, and the sound of breath,movement through the bushes. I don’t know whether to run towards Jordy or just turn around and run the other way. I stand there not knowing. I realise the moon is out, it hangs there like something half made.
    The shapes come closer and a scream doesn’t quite reach my throat. I can smell them now, of manure and dry fur. The smell of some sort of animal, but they don’t have that comfort smell of hay, of grass or barn. They’re all around us.
    They’re cows, Jordy says.
    They breathe loudly. I reach my hand out to touch a flank. I can feel the startled skin beneath my fingers. The skin jumps away from me. I step back and into another warm animal. I try to stand still. The cows run. They brush against me. I close my eyes, hold my breath, make myself as small as I can. Through the sound of their hooves I can hear Loretta laughing. Her laugh is loud and sharp. I’m scared. I try to picture my dad standing with me, his hand on my shoulder. Then the cows are gone. I open my eyes and Jordy’s there, close.
    Did you see that? he says. So weird.
    I want him to be quiet so that I can think about everything for a second. I feel maybe it’s something special that all those cows were there. Like we should be quiet, and it should be cool, like when Gran makes us go to church.
    I think it was special, I say to Jordy, then I want to bite my words back inside my mouth.
    Special ? he says. Special, like you’re a retard?
    He walks back to the car.
    No, I say, not like that. The feeling of the church has gone. There is dust stuck to my