Six
Authors: Karen Tayleur
One car.
One after-party.
Six people, six points of view.
But only one outcome.
Karen Tayleur’s coming-of-age story is both masterfully written and thoroughly gripping.
— Frances Atkinson,
The Age
I felt I knew these people, and feared for them. Karen Tayleur brilliantly captures the intensity of the final days before adulthood.
— Carole Wilkinson
Very, very clever. Would keep anyone reading.
— Joy Lawn
‘POPPY, IT WAS FUN when we were younger, but enough now,’ I said. ‘The tooth fairy isn’t real. Nursery rhymes are for babies. Spookiness and ghosts are for little kids.’
Poppy peered into my face as if searching for something, then she slowly shook her head
.
‘What happened to you, Sarah?’ she said. ‘Are you breaking our promise? Are you turning into just another boring adult?’
There were six in the bed and
the little one said
‘Roll over, roll over’
So they all rolled over and one fell out
A LIGHT DRIZZLE falls upon a car. It rests on its side on the gravel edge of the road. The road is on the outskirts of town — just past Mansion Acres, near The Woods — where the dips and curves of the landscape plunge it into deep shadow. Residents have complained about the road. Instead of following the natural curve of the dense forest, they want it straightened, but the plans are stuck in Council at the moment.
It is a small car. A light-coloured car. Hard to determine exactly what colour it is in the grey of the pre-dawn — maybe white or silver or pale blue. All is quiet, save for the ticking of the cooling engine and the bark of a neighbourhood dog.
Soon this will change.
A car travelling down the road, driven by an early morning shift-worker, will round the bend, its headlights sweeping the scene. The driver will call the police using his mobile phone. He will hesitate, then approach the car, noting a hand protruding from the emptiness of the back seat window that is now facing the sky. For a moment he may think that the hand waves at him and he will falter in his approach, but it is only his imagination and the grey light playing tricks.
Finally he will reach the car, but it is too hard to see inside. He has a torch in his car boot, but he knows the batteries are dead.
‘Hello?’ he will say.
There may be a groan from within, or it may be just the sound of the car settling into position. He will wonder what to do. What to do? His brain will quickly flick through the possibilities, but then get stuck on a replay from a Hollywood scene —
Die Hard
perhaps or a
James Bond
classic — where a crashed car suddenly explodes into flames. He will step back and consider the ramifications of moving people out of the car. The decision will be taken out of his hands as the morning stillness is interrupted by the arrival of more people. People in charge. The flashing lights of the ambulance mingle with police car lights, reflecting off the wet bitumen.
The shift-worker will have to tell his story about finding the car — once, then twice — before he abruptly sits down on the road, his legs giving way with shock. Someone will cover him with a blanket. He will not go to work today.
Later there will be more questions for other people.
But the facts are simple. A recipe for disaster.
One car.
Five seatbelts.
Six people.
A late night party.
A generous splash of alcohol.
A sprinkle of bad weather.
Two P-plate signs.
But for now, all is quiet. Less than a minute after the car spun on the roadside gravel, clipped a tree, rolled, then landed on its side, the rain drizzles down and a neighbourhood dog barks. Then, inside the overturned car, a mobile phone breaks into a musical ringtone. It is someone checking up on a daughter or a son or a friend.
But no one will answer it.
Cooper, Tom
Nickname:
Coops, Cooper, Hoops
Achievements:
Winner, Cross Country Regionals, Year 8
School positions:
Student Rep Year 7, first in line at canteen
Goal:
To be rich
School highlights so far:
Making some good friends — you know who you are!
Most embarrassing moment:
Walking into the girls’ toilets on my first day of school
Year 12 plans:
Not to stress out too much
Nickname:
Fish
Achievements:
Firsts footy team
School positions:
None
Goal:
Sports commentator
School highlights so far:
Year 11 footy trip
Most embarrassing moment:
Dunno
Year 12 plans:
Looking forward to end of year footy trip
Nickname:
None
Achievements:
Learned how to read the timetable by Year 8
School positions:
Always last to class
Goal:
To be happy
School highlights so far:
Meeting my BFFL, Sair
Most embarrassing moment:
There have just been so many. Oh, wait, going up to the stage in assembly hall to receive someone else’s award (Sorry Matty)
Year 12 plans:
I’m not sure, but it’s going to be really fabulous
Nickname:
Nico
Achievements:
Vice-captain Year 10 Firsts footy team, vice-captain Senior footy team
School positions:
I like hanging around the footy ground the best
Goal:
To make it through at least one footy season without a blood nose
School highlights so far:
Holidays
Most embarrassing moment:
When I kicked a goal for the opposition. I’d just been knocked down five minutes before that, so maybe I had a concussion. That’s my excuse, anyway
Year 12 plans:
Can’t wait to get a car
Nickname:
Sair
Achievements:
Class Dux, Year 7 to Year 11, captain of interschool winning debate team Year 10 and Year 11
School positions:
Prefect, Student Rep Year 10 and 12
Goal:
To make a difference in the world
School highlights so far:
Being chosen as captain for interschool debate team. (Oh, and meeting my best friend, Poppy)
Most embarrassing moment:
I’d rather not say
Year 12 plans:
Making sure it’s my best year at school ever
Nickname:
Just Virginia, thank you
Achievements:
Regional finalist, Truth is Stranger Than Fiction Competition, member of runners-up group for Rock Eisteddfod Year 9
School positions:
Choreographer, cheerleading team, Year 11
Goal:
To be famous
School highlights so far:
Lead in school musical, Year 10
Most embarrassing moment:
Having to make a speech at the Year 11 awards and forgetting the teachers’ names
Year 12 plans:
Lots of dancing, lots of parties, bring it on!
SARAH
Here we go ’round the
Mulberry bush
the Mulberry bush
the Mulberry bush
Here we go ’round
the Mulberry bush
early in the morning
THAT SUMMER, OUR last summer of school holidays, was the best summer of my life. The long, drawn-out days had a reassuring sameness to them, a languid summer feeling that stopped people from rushing about. The morning air that crept through my open window was already warm on my skin when I woke. By mid-morning the light was so clear and bright that it hurt my eyes as it bounced off the flat surfaces of the ’burbs. Afternoons were hot and breathless, though sometimes a limp northerly would puff even hotter air about, making it hard to breathe and driving people inside for relief. News and current affair shows — brought to you by the latest air conditioner — featured global warming experts and bankrupt farmers. Daylight stretched into long evenings and the streets were alive with the drone of mowers, kids laughing and the smell of sacrificial meat sizzling on the barbecue grill.