Tigers on the Beach (11 page)

‘Joke,' says Sam.

At midday we stand on The Escarpment, the impressive cliff top that visitors to Samsara feel compelled to photograph. We gaze out to sea. It's a view that Grandpa always liked, only a few minutes' walk from the big house that he and Grandma built all those years ago. The sky is cloudless and there isn't a breath of wind. The sea is so flat it looks laminated. Sam looks incredible in black, all trim and sleek.

Dad holds Xander by the hand. I hope that one day Xander will be able to go through life unaided. But for the moment, Dad knows that if he doesn't hold Xander's hand, he's liable to walk off the cliff top, not realising that there is a drop of fifteen metres. Or perhaps Xander
does
realise, but doesn't understand that if he walks off the edge, no force on earth will stop him from plummeting to the beach below.

‘This is a beautiful place,' says Sam.

We all nod and agree it is a beautiful place.

‘We don't have anywhere like this in Port Argus,' says Sam.

‘Port Argus is nice,' Mum says.

‘Do they still sell crayfish on the pier?' Grandma asks Sam.

‘Yes,' she says.

Sam is wrong. She knows they stopped selling crayfish on the pier ages ago. But she isn't going to ruin what seems a fond memory for Grandma. She is being kind.

There is a full minute of silence, broken only by the cries of seabirds. The noonday sun blazes. It seems far too glorious a day for solemn ceremony. We all wear sunglasses and a layer of sunscreen – its chemical smell filling the air. It's proper sunscreen, so our hands won't go orange.

‘I thought we could take turns,' says Mum, bringing us back to the matter in hand. ‘We could each take the urn and shake out some of the ashes.'

‘ “Cremains”,' says Dad. ‘I think they are referred to as “cremains”.'

‘That's a silly word,' says Mum.

I pray that my parents will not argue.

‘I want to go first,' says Xander.

‘No, Xander, Grandma should go first,' says Mum.

‘Can I go second?' he asks.

‘You can go last,' says Dad, as though he is offering Xander a very special privilege. In reality, Dad knows that Xander is likely to empty out all the ashes. Anyone who comes after him won't have anything to scatter, so he has to go last.

‘I can't think of a better place to be scattered,' says Sam.

She is saying all the right things. I'm glad that Sam is with us. Grandma seems to approve of my choice of girlfriend, not that it should matter. Grandma has trouble taking the lid off the urn, so Mum helps. We are all weepy. Even Sam has a lump in her throat. Mum and Grandma walk to the edge of The Escarpment. Grandma holds out the urn and tips it slightly. Nothing comes out.

‘I don't think this is right,' Grandma says.

‘How do you mean?' asks Mum.

‘This isn't the right place.'

‘But Reg loved it here,' says Dad.

‘It still doesn't feel right. I don't think it's what he wants.'

‘That's all right,' says Mum. ‘We don't have to do it here.'

Dad groans softly, which I know means more arguments later on.

‘Give me the urn,' says Mum. ‘I'll put the lid back on.'

Grandma hands the urn to Mum. But Grandma's hand shakes. The urn tips. Mum rescues it before the contents empty out completely, but some of the ashes escape and are picked up by the wind, which has chosen this terrible moment to blow. The little ash cloud hits my father full in the face. He coughs and removes his glasses. The sunscreen has made the ashes stick hard to his skin, so that he now has a grey face with two pink circles around his eyes, in the shape of his sunglasses.

‘Blast!' says Grandma.

Mum leads her gently away from the cliff top.

‘Are you all right, Ken?' Mum asks.

‘Of course I'm all right, Georgia.' Keeping a hold of Xander's hand, Dad takes out his handkerchief and attempts to wipe off the ashes.

‘What an awful thing to happen,' says Mum.

‘Oh, don't make such a fuss,' says Grandma.

I can tell that Grandma is upset, even though she is trying to shrug off the horrible incident.

‘Here, Ken, let me help,' says Mum.

Mum wipes the grey mask from Dad's face.

‘There are still plenty of ashes left in the urn,' she says. ‘We'll find a better place to scatter them.'

‘You take your time, Doris,' says Dad, spitting out some ash. ‘It's important that we find the right place for Reg and I don't think it's in my face.'

‘Thank you, Kenneth,' says Grandma.

‘You've still got a bit on your nose,' says Xander.

Mum wipes the last bit of ash from Dad's face.

The reason I am silent throughout this is that Sam is hugging me. She has her arms around me and is resting her head on my shoulder. We look as though we are comforting each other in this time of sadness. That's what Grandma and my parents probably think. But I know differently. Even though I am overwhelmed by the ghastliness of it all, Sam is having a different reaction. I can hear her breathing, close to my ear. She trembles. Sam, my exquisite new girlfriend, is laughing.

She's not busting a gut, but she's definitely laughing, and there is nothing remotely funny.

No one except me knows that Sam laughed. They don't know that, as soon as Grandpa's ashes blew into Dad's face, Sam stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth to prevent herself from guffawing. Then she grabbed hold of me, to use me as a human shield, so the world wouldn't see her laughter. What would my parents think if they knew? What do
I
think? Sam is kind, I remind myself. Sam admires me because
I'm
kind. But do kind people laugh at horrible things?

Dad is driving the SUV to Port Argus, so we can drop off Sam before returning to The Ponderosa. As we reach her house it occurs to me that Sam's family must be a lot richer than mine. The house is larger than my grandparents' old place on The Escarpment. Last time I was here, I was so busy thinking about Sam that I hadn't noticed the surroundings. Now I see a little more of Sam's world, and I wonder if I might be a foreigner, entering this place of wealth and privilege. I still think Sam is gorgeous. But Sam
laughed
. Something awful happened and Sam
laughed
.

I walk Sam to the front door, because neither of us has had a chance to speak candidly in the SUV.

‘I'm sorry about laughing,' says Sam.

‘I don't think anyone else noticed,' I say.

‘Please Adam, you're supposed to make me feel better by saying that you forgive me.'

‘Okay, I forgive you.'

‘You have to mean it.'

‘I really do forgive you.'

The words come easily enough. I'm quite good at forgiveness. If I bore grudges I would have stopped talking to Xander years ago.

‘I shouldn't have come with you,' says Sam.

‘It was good to have you there,' I say.

‘I don't know why I laughed,' says Sam. ‘It must have been a terrible moment for you.'

‘It was.'

We reach the front doorstep. Sam takes out her key.

‘I hope I didn't upset you,' she says.

‘You didn't,' I say. ‘It's okay.'

When I get back to the SUV, Dad and Mum are arguing again. I worry that they might have noticed Sam laugh after all, and that it's made their tempers flare up. But when I climb into the back seat, I realise that they're arguing about the quickest way to get from Port Argus to Samsara. Grandma sits on the back seat, nursing the urn, while Dad and Mum argue about a shortcut.

‘Could you both please be quiet and take us home,' says Grandma. She isn't being grouchy. She's being completely reasonable. My parents are the ones who are behaving badly.

‘I'm sorry, Doris,' says Dad.

He starts the car and we head back the way we came, which Mum still maintains is not the shortest, most direct route.

‘It was nice to meet your girlfriend,' says Grandma. She sounds like she means it. Xander says nothing, but plays with a wacky ball, pretending that it is alive. Grandma doesn't ask him to put it away. At the moment, she seems the only reasonable person in the car.

Dad turns on the radio. The classical music station is playing a piece by Bach. I recognise it, thanks to Sam. I've been finding out all I can about Bach. The music is a hymn, perfect in every way. It suits the mood.

‘What wonderful music,' says Dad, abandoning the argument about shortcuts.

‘It's by Bach,' I say. I don't mention that the name of the piece is ‘Bloody Wounded Head'. Did Bach ever give a decent name to one of his tunes?

When we arrive at The Ponderosa, we see Stanley Krongold's big red car parked outside. This is the last thing we want. We find him in the reception area, trying to have a conversation with Marika. I know, of course, that such a thing is impossible. Marika is in the middle of telling Stanley Krongold a story about how her friend Bettina took too many diet pills and turned into a pipecleaner. I've heard this story before. Marika doesn't have that many stories to tell, and until she starts listening to people she probably never will. Mr Krongold looks relieved when we enter the reception area. He's almost as unobservant as Marika. He fails to notice that we are dressed formally and that a mood of sadness hangs over us.

‘Marika and I were just having a lovely chat,' says Mr Krongold. ‘I wonder if I could have a few minutes of your time?'

‘I'm afraid this is inconvenient,' Dad says.

‘I understand. But please call me later today.'

‘Mr Krongold, you seem like a generous man,' Dad says.

‘I like to think so,' says Mr Krongold. ‘And I wish you'd call me Stanley.'

‘We are fortunate to live in a country like Australia,' Dad says.

I'm not sure where Dad is going with this, but Mr Krongold nods in agreement.
Of course
Australia is a good country.

‘And yet there are people in the world who are starving,' says Dad.

‘It's awful.' Mr Krongold nods. ‘But what can we do?'

‘I was thinking that you might like to buy those chocolate peanuts on the counter. They're for famine relief.'

Mr Krongold looks at the counter pack of chocolate peanuts as if they have only now magically appeared. He doesn't want anything to do with them, of course.

‘Well, if they're for famine relief, I will certainly buy a packet.'

Mr Krongold reluctantly takes out his wallet. When he looks inside, he believes he is off the hook.

‘I only have a twenty-dollar bill.'

‘That is most generous of you, Mr Krongold,' says Dad.

He takes the bill from Mr Krongold. Before our unwanted visitor has a chance to protest, Dad stuffs the note into the charity box.

‘You may take ten packets of chocolate peanuts,' says Dad, ‘and I'm sure the starving orphans in Sumatra will thank you from the very bottom of their malnourished hearts.'

Mr Krongold is furious, but keeps a lid on it as he takes ten packets of chocolate peanuts. There are only two packets left in the box.

‘You
will
call me later?' Mr Krongold says, trying to juggle the ten packets.

‘Of course,' says Dad.

Stanley Krongold realises this is the best he can hope for, and hobbles away, desperate not to drop his bundle of charity purchases. He gives me a wink as he passes. I hate that wink.

‘Ah well,' says Dad. ‘At least the day hasn't been a complete disaster.' Dad turns to Marika, making a brave and foolish attempt to engage her in conversation.

‘Did anything happen while we were away?' he asks.

But Marika is fixated on the chocolate peanuts that remain in the charity box.

‘My cousin's baby ate a chocolate peanut once,' she says. ‘The poor thing was allergic. It practically exploded.'

Grandma wanders back to her cabin. Xander shuts himself away to play with his various collections. There are plenty of chores at The Ponderosa to keep me preoccupied. It's probably what I need at the moment.

I help Nathan to pick up some of the rubbish that has been tossed onto the front lawn. This has started happening recently, and I wonder if Stanley Krongold is behind it. Maybe he's trying to make The Ponderosa seem less valuable, so he can pick up a bargain?

‘Nathan, did you study psychology at university?' I ask, as we pick up icy-pole wrappers and soft-drink cans.

‘For three years,' says Nathan.

‘I guess you must know a lot about how people's mind's work.'

‘I don't know anything at all.'

‘How come?'

‘It was animal psychology. I can tell you how a fruit bat's mind works, but I doubt you'd be interested.'

‘Nathan, can I ask you something?'

‘I didn't think you'd be interested.'

‘Do you think it's okay to laugh at bad things?'

Nathan tosses a McDonald's box into his garbage bag. ‘What sort of bad things?'

‘I don't know. Say, a funeral?'

‘Someone laughed at my father's funeral,' says Nathan. ‘They played the wrong song. It was meant to be “Father” by Ian Dury but instead they played “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll”
,
which was on the same CD.'

I smile at this.

‘It may seem funny now,' says Nathan, ‘but it wasn't at the time.'

‘But someone laughed?'

‘The funeral director did. We made him give us a discount.'

‘But what if someone laughed at a funeral even though nothing funny happened?'

‘Chimpanzees would laugh,' says Nathan. ‘They laugh when they are upset.'

‘I didn't know that. I guess that means that the chimpanzees on the poster that I gave to Mum and Dad aren't in a good mood.'

‘I never liked that poster,' says Nathan.

‘Everyone else thinks it's funny.'

‘They don't know as much about chimpanzees as I do.'

‘Do human beings ever laugh when they're upset?'

‘Well, since we're descended from apes –'

But I have lost Nathan's attention. He has spotted Marika, who is wearing extra-tight jeans and really shouldn't.

‘She is even more beautiful than an arctic fox,' Nathan whispers.

Tony Palin, the local petty crim, arrives on his bike. He's fifteen, fat and fearless. Tony often boasts that he's broken into the yacht club three times, though he's never been caught. If you want cheap lifejackets, he's your man.

‘Is your little brother around?' he asks. ‘I've got something for him.'

I frown. ‘Don't sell him any of those magazines.'

‘I wasn't going to.'

‘Then why do you want to see him?'

‘It's a free country.'

‘If you sell him anything bad . . .'

Tony Palin looks unconcerned. He sidles closer. ‘Do
you
want to buy some magazines?'

‘No thanks.'

‘What's the matter, don't you like girls? I've got a magazine with German girls.'

‘I don't want a magazine, I've got a girlfriend,' I say.

‘What's her name?'

‘Sam.'

‘That figures.' Tony looks at his watch. ‘Where's your brother?'

‘Playing with his bugs.'

‘He's pretty mental, isn't he?'

I feel like smashing Tony in the face, but my parents have taught me that violence should only be used as a last resort.

‘Be careful,' I tell him.

Tony realises he is on thin ice.

‘What were you guys doing on The Escarpment today?' he asks.

‘Why do you want to know?'

‘Who was the girl with you?'

‘Sam.'

‘Wow.' Tony looks impressed. ‘Have you done it with her yet?'

There are strict rules about this. I know that Mum and Dad are happy for me to have a girlfriend. They like Sam. But we are too young to ‘do it'. My parents and I have talked it over. And when I look at all the teenage mums around I tend to agree with them. I don't want to be a father at fifteen. I'm not even sure I want to be a father at fifty, if I end up having kids like Tony Palin.

Two elderly holiday-makers, the Provans, walk down the driveway, hand in hand. They must be at least eighty and they have been staying with us ever since The Ponderosa opened for business.

‘Hello, dear,' Mrs Provan says. ‘It's a beautiful day, isn't it?'

I love the Provans. If only all our guests could be like them.

‘Yes,' I tell the Provans. ‘It certainly is.'

Mr Provan knows that I like jokes. He seems to have an endless supply.

‘This may interest you, Adam,' says Mr Provan. His wife walks ahead and waits at the front gate. She knows that her husband is about to tell me a joke. She also knows that he'd prefer she didn't hear.

‘The Mayor of London and his wife are at a royal reception,' says Mr Provan, quietly. ‘ “Oh dear,” the Lady Mayoress says. “I've just dropped the most dreadful silent fart. What should I do?” The Mayor tells her, “Get a new battery for your hearing aid.” '

I decide not to tell this joke to Sam.

It's late when Sam rings me. Xander is asleep. I leave the room so I can talk to Sam without my brother eaves-dropping. Wandering around the moonlit grounds of The Ponderosa, I listen as Sam tells me her news. Rehearsal tonight was fraught. Trisha the emo with the oboe has decided she is no longer in love with Rico the ensemble leader, because she has fallen in love with Jesus. She's obviously a social climber. Oscar and Felix want to get married one day but the law won't allow it and there are things in the bible about how it's evil, so Oscar and Felix aren't that impressed about Trisha's new boyfriend. They are getting everyone they know to sign a petition about how stupid the law is and that same sexes should be allowed to marry each other. Sam reminds me that I said I'd teach her the sign language alphabet so that she can communicate with deaf people. I tell her I haven't forgotten. Oscar, Felix and Sam are busking in Carlington Mall early tomorrow to raise money for
Il Gattopardo Pazzo
. Sam asks, would I like to help by handing out leaflets? I tell Sam that I would do anything for her, provided I can fit it into my very busy schedule as assistant manager. Finally, Sam apologises yet again for laughing at the ash scattering. I tell her not to worry. We shouldn't dwell on the past, even if it was only ten hours ago.