Outback Heroes (Young Adult adventures from Australia)
Three amazing adventures...
(Scroll down to read the first chapters)
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Book 1 Perisher Book 2 Joan of Shark Book 3 Ghost People Coming Soon! |
Read the first chapter of Perisher
Nobody gets into a life or death situation on purpose. Now I'm asking myself if any of the secrets I learned from the mountain could actually save us, or not. Like being a “true blue” Aussie hero could be one of the hardest—nearly impossible—challenges in the world. But what I'm really thinking is...they didn't name this place Perisher for nothing.
1
The first time I saw Joanie Thomas was just an ordinary day at high school. It was history lesson—last class of the day—and I'm clock-watching. Only thirty minutes to go. That's when this pretty girl comes rushing into the room, walks up to the teacher's desk, and hands her a note.
“Excuse me. I'm new. The office told me to give you this.”
Miss Walker reads the note while I'm feeling sorry for the girl. Starting a new school is bad enough, but midway through second term—and halfway through last lesson? That's a horror story! Anyway, I get it why Miss Walker doesn't seem too impressed, gives the girl the once-over, then stares pointedly at her jeans and shirt. The rest of us go quiet—and in my case— interested.
Miss Walker pushes her glasses higher up her nose. Uh-Oh. That means she's totally pinged off. “Kind of late to be arriving to class, don't you think, Joan?”
“Joanie. My name is Joanie Thomas.”
“Joanie Thomas? I stand corrected.” Miss Walker sighs. “Oh well, find yourself a spare seat.”
The girl has my full attention as she stomps her way towards the spare seat next to me. I say “stomps” because she's wearing cowboy boots. So I fold as much of my own grasshopper legs as possible under my desk, to give her more room.
“Oh, Joanie!”
“Yes, Miss Walker?”
“When will you have your books, and school uniform?”
“I'll wear my uniform tomorrow, Miss Walker. And I should have all my books by then.”
Short answers. I shouldn't have too much trouble holding my own in a conversation with this girl.
“Good. Now just for today, perhaps Riley Williams might allow you to read along with him.”
Like I would object.
“No worries.” I whisper. She pulls her chair up beside me, so that's when I get my first close-up look at Joanie, and the remainder of our history lesson flies right out the window. Long black hair, which she constantly twirls around her fingers. And a refreshing blast of peppermint every so often, when she blows an offending curl away from her pretty green eyes.
“I love history.” she whispers. “Even if I'm only here for half of today's lesson. Hope you don't mind sharing your book with me.”
Sadly, liking history is one subject we won't be able to agree on. “My name's Riley Williams.”
“Yes, I heard the teacher say your name,” she mumbles, her head in my book.
Normally, knowing each other's name, helps you get to know each other faster. Good thing, too, because I sense Joanie isn't a girl to ask many questions. So I start the ball rolling. “Where are you living?” Miss Walker is moving around the classroom gathering up yesterday's homework, so I keep my voice low. Good. That means the lesson is officially over.
“Perisher Valley. We just moved into the Cooper place.”
“You live in the Valley? Hey, so do I. You going to be catching the school bus?” I stand, take a few steps to leave and hear her clomping along behind me— except I run into Miss Walker. Our teacher is a real shorty, so I converse with the top of her head, as usual.
“Riley. Where's your homework? Didn't you understand what I wanted you to do?”
Darn it. I didn't want to have to explain in front of Joanie. “I'll bring it tomorrow for sure, Miss Walker.” Then we stroll out to where the Valley bus is waiting, and I'm wondering—should a guy wait to be invited to sit next to this pretty Outback girl?
The bus is crowded, so she plonks herself down in a window seat, then glances up at me. That's when I completely morph into my true self. A total dork. Which is why I can't believe it when she moves over and I feel this vacant grin devour my face. So I fit as much of me as I can on the seat beside her and notice she's hanging onto an overloaded backpack. “Want me to put that up on the overhead shelf, so you can see out the window?” She smiles and nods, so I lift the thing up to the shelf above her head. “Wow! That's quite a load. Got far to walk from the bus?”
“No, thank goodness. The bus stops right outside our house.”
She has this cute dimple in her chin, which appears whenever she smiles, and next minute I'm wondering —how many face muscles does it take to smile? And are any extra muscles required to produce a dimple? Are you nuts, Williams? A pretty girl wants you to sit beside her, and you're wondering how many muscles it takes to smile? I'll google that one at home, though. The structure of the human body fascinates me.“I like your cowboy boots.”
“Thanks. I'm from Coober Pedy, in the Outback. We don't wear school uniforms there, just jeans, shirts and boots. But I'll wear the school uniform from now on. Except for my boots. They stay.”
“Think you're gonna like the snow country?”
“Probably. Although I consider myself an Outback girl at heart. Still, Perisher Valley is a really small town, inaccessible and remote like Coober Pedy, so it's just a different kind of Outback.”
“Interesting way to put it. Made any friends yet?”
“Not really. Well, sort of.”
“There's not much to do in the Valley. Apart from winter sports, sled-dog rides, and mountain climbing.”
“Sled-dog rides sound fun. Have you ever tried that?”
Oh man. A girl and I are talking, and for once it happens to be a subject I know plenty about. So, when she turns away from the window, I let rip. “Sled-dogs are what I do. My family used to train sled-dog teams. Big winter tourist turnover, but the dogs take a lot of care year-round and my dad's not involved anymore. Now he's a respiratory specialist.”
“What about all your sled-dogs?”
“Sold them to a neighbor, but I still work there, so I'm cool with it. Dad's way happier working at the hospital. Oops! Dropped my pen.” I bend down to retrieve the half-sized pen I like to chew on when I'm nervous. I've actually learned some pretty good tricks on precisely how far I can dangle that pen from my mouth without dropping it.
“Wow, I bet you miss your dogs, though.”
“I see them almost every day. I have my own dog, too.” Chewing away, I'm feeling more confident now. Totally in the zone.
“A sled-dog?”
“Yes, and no. He's a sled-dog, but not a husky. Ding's a dingo, actually. I trained him myself.”
“You trained a dingo? Awesome! I didn't think you could keep a dingo as a pet.”
“Ding's one-tenth husky, so on that technicality, I was able to get him a dog license.”
I glance out the window and get a shock. “You said you moved into the old Cooper place, and we're nearly
there. Will you be catching the bus tomorrow?”
“Yes. Dad works from his Canberra office, mostly. And Mom doesn't drive much, these days.”
And then the bus must have hit a ditch, because she bottoms out so hard Joanie's backpack gets jolted off the overhead shelf, and comes hurtling down towards her. Would have hit her too, except I'm faster. Riley Williams doesn't have long arms for nothing. I swoop the thing up, mid-flight, with one hand. And I'm still hanging onto it when the bus flings her sideways and she lands on my chest. Her soft hair brushes my face and I'm not complaining when she thanks me.
By now I figure my cheeks must be beet red. Happens when you're afflicted with carrot-top hair and a complexion to match. My friend Callum, who's also a redhead, found out that we never go bald—fair compensation, I guess. Darn! If my face gets any hotter someone will be calling Triple Zero to report an emergency.
“I can't believe you did that. My backpack is so heavy. Oh, I met one girl. Lisa. Know her?”
“Lisa, the gastroenterologist? Oh sure, I know Lisa.”
“Why do you call her that?”
“Well, Lisa is crazy about hair, see? Wants to take a hairdressing course. But her old man is a gastroenterologist, so he's forcing her to follow in the family business.”
Joanie's mouth is wide open, her eyes nearly as wide. “Oh, that's terrible! Poor Lisa! My Dad's totally obsessed when it comes to medical science, but he would never want me to make a career of that, or something I didn't like. It must be a huge disappointment for Lisa.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Now I'm feeling ashamed because we all thought it was a big joke about Lisa.
“Anyway, I'm glad you told me. If I get to know her better I'll try to help her. We all need someone to tell our problems to, don't we?”
“Yeah. Always helps to talk to someone. Hey— since you're new—you can call on me if you need a friend.” Idiot! That's a line from a kid's movie. Very mature, dude. Time for a change of subject, so I look down at her tiny feet. “You gonna' cave on the cowboy boots?”
“I'll wear regulation clothes like everybody else. But my boots stay.”
By now I'm finding Joanie strangely compelling. She's like...how can I describe it? Like someone on a mission for something. Intelligent, but cute.
“Thanks for your offer of someone to talk to, Riley. I may take you up on that one day.”
With those green eyes of hers boring into mine, I don't totally get her drift, so I improvise. “No probs. Glad to help with science, math, history, practically any subject other than languages.”
“No, I wasn't thinking of schoolwork, I'm okay with all that. I do have a problem I need help with, though. It's with my parents.”
The first time I saw Joanie Thomas was just an ordinary day at high school. It was history lesson—last class of the day—and I'm clock-watching. Only thirty minutes to go. That's when this pretty girl comes rushing into the room, walks up to the teacher's desk, and hands her a note.
“Excuse me. I'm new. The office told me to give you this.”
Miss Walker reads the note while I'm feeling sorry for the girl. Starting a new school is bad enough, but midway through second term—and halfway through last lesson? That's a horror story! Anyway, I get it why Miss Walker doesn't seem too impressed, gives the girl the once-over, then stares pointedly at her jeans and shirt. The rest of us go quiet—and in my case— interested.
Miss Walker pushes her glasses higher up her nose. Uh-Oh. That means she's totally pinged off. “Kind of late to be arriving to class, don't you think, Joan?”
“Joanie. My name is Joanie Thomas.”
“Joanie Thomas? I stand corrected.” Miss Walker sighs. “Oh well, find yourself a spare seat.”
The girl has my full attention as she stomps her way towards the spare seat next to me. I say “stomps” because she's wearing cowboy boots. So I fold as much of my own grasshopper legs as possible under my desk, to give her more room.
“Oh, Joanie!”
“Yes, Miss Walker?”
“When will you have your books, and school uniform?”
“I'll wear my uniform tomorrow, Miss Walker. And I should have all my books by then.”
Short answers. I shouldn't have too much trouble holding my own in a conversation with this girl.
“Good. Now just for today, perhaps Riley Williams might allow you to read along with him.”
Like I would object.
“No worries.” I whisper. She pulls her chair up beside me, so that's when I get my first close-up look at Joanie, and the remainder of our history lesson flies right out the window. Long black hair, which she constantly twirls around her fingers. And a refreshing blast of peppermint every so often, when she blows an offending curl away from her pretty green eyes.
“I love history.” she whispers. “Even if I'm only here for half of today's lesson. Hope you don't mind sharing your book with me.”
Sadly, liking history is one subject we won't be able to agree on. “My name's Riley Williams.”
“Yes, I heard the teacher say your name,” she mumbles, her head in my book.
Normally, knowing each other's name, helps you get to know each other faster. Good thing, too, because I sense Joanie isn't a girl to ask many questions. So I start the ball rolling. “Where are you living?” Miss Walker is moving around the classroom gathering up yesterday's homework, so I keep my voice low. Good. That means the lesson is officially over.
“Perisher Valley. We just moved into the Cooper place.”
“You live in the Valley? Hey, so do I. You going to be catching the school bus?” I stand, take a few steps to leave and hear her clomping along behind me— except I run into Miss Walker. Our teacher is a real shorty, so I converse with the top of her head, as usual.
“Riley. Where's your homework? Didn't you understand what I wanted you to do?”
Darn it. I didn't want to have to explain in front of Joanie. “I'll bring it tomorrow for sure, Miss Walker.” Then we stroll out to where the Valley bus is waiting, and I'm wondering—should a guy wait to be invited to sit next to this pretty Outback girl?
The bus is crowded, so she plonks herself down in a window seat, then glances up at me. That's when I completely morph into my true self. A total dork. Which is why I can't believe it when she moves over and I feel this vacant grin devour my face. So I fit as much of me as I can on the seat beside her and notice she's hanging onto an overloaded backpack. “Want me to put that up on the overhead shelf, so you can see out the window?” She smiles and nods, so I lift the thing up to the shelf above her head. “Wow! That's quite a load. Got far to walk from the bus?”
“No, thank goodness. The bus stops right outside our house.”
She has this cute dimple in her chin, which appears whenever she smiles, and next minute I'm wondering —how many face muscles does it take to smile? And are any extra muscles required to produce a dimple? Are you nuts, Williams? A pretty girl wants you to sit beside her, and you're wondering how many muscles it takes to smile? I'll google that one at home, though. The structure of the human body fascinates me.“I like your cowboy boots.”
“Thanks. I'm from Coober Pedy, in the Outback. We don't wear school uniforms there, just jeans, shirts and boots. But I'll wear the school uniform from now on. Except for my boots. They stay.”
“Think you're gonna like the snow country?”
“Probably. Although I consider myself an Outback girl at heart. Still, Perisher Valley is a really small town, inaccessible and remote like Coober Pedy, so it's just a different kind of Outback.”
“Interesting way to put it. Made any friends yet?”
“Not really. Well, sort of.”
“There's not much to do in the Valley. Apart from winter sports, sled-dog rides, and mountain climbing.”
“Sled-dog rides sound fun. Have you ever tried that?”
Oh man. A girl and I are talking, and for once it happens to be a subject I know plenty about. So, when she turns away from the window, I let rip. “Sled-dogs are what I do. My family used to train sled-dog teams. Big winter tourist turnover, but the dogs take a lot of care year-round and my dad's not involved anymore. Now he's a respiratory specialist.”
“What about all your sled-dogs?”
“Sold them to a neighbor, but I still work there, so I'm cool with it. Dad's way happier working at the hospital. Oops! Dropped my pen.” I bend down to retrieve the half-sized pen I like to chew on when I'm nervous. I've actually learned some pretty good tricks on precisely how far I can dangle that pen from my mouth without dropping it.
“Wow, I bet you miss your dogs, though.”
“I see them almost every day. I have my own dog, too.” Chewing away, I'm feeling more confident now. Totally in the zone.
“A sled-dog?”
“Yes, and no. He's a sled-dog, but not a husky. Ding's a dingo, actually. I trained him myself.”
“You trained a dingo? Awesome! I didn't think you could keep a dingo as a pet.”
“Ding's one-tenth husky, so on that technicality, I was able to get him a dog license.”
I glance out the window and get a shock. “You said you moved into the old Cooper place, and we're nearly
there. Will you be catching the bus tomorrow?”
“Yes. Dad works from his Canberra office, mostly. And Mom doesn't drive much, these days.”
And then the bus must have hit a ditch, because she bottoms out so hard Joanie's backpack gets jolted off the overhead shelf, and comes hurtling down towards her. Would have hit her too, except I'm faster. Riley Williams doesn't have long arms for nothing. I swoop the thing up, mid-flight, with one hand. And I'm still hanging onto it when the bus flings her sideways and she lands on my chest. Her soft hair brushes my face and I'm not complaining when she thanks me.
By now I figure my cheeks must be beet red. Happens when you're afflicted with carrot-top hair and a complexion to match. My friend Callum, who's also a redhead, found out that we never go bald—fair compensation, I guess. Darn! If my face gets any hotter someone will be calling Triple Zero to report an emergency.
“I can't believe you did that. My backpack is so heavy. Oh, I met one girl. Lisa. Know her?”
“Lisa, the gastroenterologist? Oh sure, I know Lisa.”
“Why do you call her that?”
“Well, Lisa is crazy about hair, see? Wants to take a hairdressing course. But her old man is a gastroenterologist, so he's forcing her to follow in the family business.”
Joanie's mouth is wide open, her eyes nearly as wide. “Oh, that's terrible! Poor Lisa! My Dad's totally obsessed when it comes to medical science, but he would never want me to make a career of that, or something I didn't like. It must be a huge disappointment for Lisa.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Now I'm feeling ashamed because we all thought it was a big joke about Lisa.
“Anyway, I'm glad you told me. If I get to know her better I'll try to help her. We all need someone to tell our problems to, don't we?”
“Yeah. Always helps to talk to someone. Hey— since you're new—you can call on me if you need a friend.” Idiot! That's a line from a kid's movie. Very mature, dude. Time for a change of subject, so I look down at her tiny feet. “You gonna' cave on the cowboy boots?”
“I'll wear regulation clothes like everybody else. But my boots stay.”
By now I'm finding Joanie strangely compelling. She's like...how can I describe it? Like someone on a mission for something. Intelligent, but cute.
“Thanks for your offer of someone to talk to, Riley. I may take you up on that one day.”
With those green eyes of hers boring into mine, I don't totally get her drift, so I improvise. “No probs. Glad to help with science, math, history, practically any subject other than languages.”
“No, I wasn't thinking of schoolwork, I'm okay with all that. I do have a problem I need help with, though. It's with my parents.”
Read the first chapter of Joan of Shark
Is is really possible to connect with people of the past?
Joanie Thomas is about to find out when she travels to the coastal town of Shark Heads, where beauty and danger go hand-in-hand. New clues lead to new adventures as she and Riley finally begin to close in on the vital secret they have been searching for. But Joanie begins to get caught up in things she has never had to deal with before. That's when what starts out as an ordinary school assignment takes her farther than she ever meant to go. The thing is...
Once you decide to stand up for something, you have to be willing to fight for it.
1
So, is this how it ends for me? Taken out by a heart attack in my high school cafeteria at age sixteen? It sure feels like a heart attack. I go staggering towards the chairs in the school lunch area, gasping for breath. I had the same symptoms when I went into Mom's bedroom a few nights ago, and couldn't wake her up. Panic. Perfectly understandable there. But what was to panic about just changing schools? I've changed schools before. And this isn't my first day.
Horrible name, Shark Heads. Gave me bad vibes right from the start.
Yet, my heart is thumping away—going a hundred miles an hour—and I've got this scary, tight feeling in my chest. Better sit down before I fall down. Can't breathe. Head is whirling. Am I losing it? How embarrassing to crack up the first week at school. Maybe I'm coming down with some incurable disease.
The two girls sitting on the other side of the long table look surprised when I fall heavily into the seat opposite them. They're always together, “besties” as they say, and probably haven't even noticed me the past few days, anyway. Even though we have some of the same classes.
“Hi,” I manage to squeak.
They nod in my direction then continue talking about their boyfriends. I have a boyfriend too, except he lives in Perisher Valley. But they probably wouldn't be interested, so I stay zipped. But at least I don't feel like I'm going to fall over in a dead faint, anymore. Maybe there's some kind of poison in the water everyone here knows about but me.
Shark Heads High—already I don't like it much.
“Where are you from, Joanie?” The one whose name I know is Rebekah, suddenly wants to talk.
“Perisher Valley.” I take a deep breath. “In the Snowy Mountains.” I snatch a sandwich from my lunchbox and try to at least look halfway normal even though I could be on the verge of dying, here. “We've been staying in town until we can move into our own place.”
She doesn't comment.
“I'm more of an outback girl at heart, though.” I manage a smile and press on. “I was brought up in Coober Pedy. But we had to move because of Dad's work.”
“I've heard about Perisher Valley. People seem to love it. Did you do any skiing?”
“No. My boyfriend took me on a couple of sled dog rides, though. He trains dog-teams for racing there.”
“That sounds wild.” Her friend, Katie, takes over. “And you like the outback better?”
My sandwich lies forgotten in front of me, I'm so happy to finally be talking to someone. “Massively. Even when it gets super hot in summer the outback is still better than the cold. Took me ages to adjust to those freezing winter days in Perisher Valley.” I'm breathing much easier now.
“Yuk. I'd pick cold over hot, any day.” Katie's mouth turns up in disgust.
“You sorta' get used to the heat,” I tell them. “And Coober Pedy is famous. It's where the crows fly backwards to keep the red dust out of their eyes.”
No reaction to that, so I keep talking. “My Mom didn't like the heat much, either. She was glad to be out of there when we had to move to Perisher. But at least we didn't have to leave the outback before we got to experience something weirdly epic.”
They both stop eating and wait for me to go on.
“What did you experience that was so weirdly epic?” Katie crumples up her empty sandwich wrap without even looking at it.
I love telling this part. “Dad bought an underground home from a miner.” Now, that ought to rock their boats because it's totally cool.
Instead, they exchange looks like I might be from another planet.
“How gross!” It was Rebekah this time. “I can't imagine living in a dumpy old coal mine. Everything all black and filthy.”
“It was an opal mine, actually—not a coal mine. A lot of opal miners live underground. It's an awesome life. We had a kitchen, a lounge room, and two bedrooms. It wasn't dumpy, at all. I even had a piano. Coming home from school down a ladder was pretty amazing, too. Kinda' like entering the land of outback Oz, you know?”
There I go again. Every time I meet someone new I always have to establish what's different about me rather than what's alike. Guess I've got something against everyone talking and acting like clones.
“How long did you live in Perisher Valley?” Katie tips her head to one side when she asks, with a well- practiced shake that ripples her long blonde curls .
All at once, I'm tired of explaining things. Next thing you know I'll be telling them what it's like to live with a mad scientist for a dad, and really alienate myself. Pretty sure they weren't ready for that. Most kids aren't too interested in medical research, anyway, so I usually keep that information to myself. Stick with the simple stuff, I always say. For sure, enough with the stories.
“We only spent a year in Perisher Valley.”
Rebekah gives an exaggerated sigh. “You had to move after only one year? Oh, aren't parents the absolute limit? I mean, 'newsflash,' this is grade twelve. We can quit school and get a job if we want to, so, the very least your folks should do is to let you settle down somewhere.”
Then they both stand up and walk off all of a sudden —like someone gave a signal. Not two feet away they start laughing. They haven't even bothered to say, “See ya'.”
“Okay, head up, shoulders back.” I remind myself when I finally start out to the car pickup area. At least all those weird symptoms are gone.
Shark Heads High is set right in the middle of a small seaside village, and from where I'm standing on the footpath, I can look down the main street. Mostly all heritage buildings. The old post office and the Coach Company office, for example.
It's situated on the east coast of Australia, south of Sydney, and has always been a popular fishing destination. Population only a couple thousand, or so Dad says. Dairy farmers and fruit growers mainly, a real casual town, too, because no-one dresses up in Shark Heads. The climate here is not as hot as Coober Pedy, and certainly not as cold as Perisher Valley. Sweet. Plus there's lots of rain– which is probably why the main street of town has to be seen to be believed.
The whole length of it is lined with giant trees. Poinciana, and spreading Jacarandas. I have to look again to see I haven't imagined it. But, no. The two types of trees intermingle, meeting together in the middle to form a canopy of striking red and purple blooms. Spectacular.
Looking up at the mountains, just beyond, I love the way they appear to stand so solid behind the town, as though to protect it from the frequent, heavy east-coast lows. Those lows dump as much torrential rain on it's residents as they can—or so the locals say. That's one thing I do love about this place–even if it's the only one. Living in a world of green is so awesome.
Most of the businesses are home-grown—no large shopping malls or traffic lights even, and you never catch more than one or two folk crossing the street at the same time. Having been born in the outback, and later experiencing Perisher Valley, I'm really into the quiet contentment of small-town living. All that green is so relaxing, plus I see pawpaws, pineapples and what I've discovered to be the most delicious mangoes in the world, just begging to be eaten.
By the time Mom and Dad drive up, I'm cool with things, again. Mom grins through the open car window. She has the most gentle smile, soft gray eyes and pretty brown hair. Perfect posture, left over from her more active days, and this special air of refined elegance which accentuates her ample curves. Somehow, her inside beauty covers up her outside flaws. “How was school, dear?” she asks.
“Fine.” I tell her, even though it wasn't quite that good. “How come you two wanted to pick me up, today?”
Suddenly I spot Laney Evans (from history class) crossing the road right in front of our car and call out, “See ya' Laney!” and give her a wave. But what does she do in response? She sprints across the street, preferring to almost get herself mowed down in the process rather than answer anything back. Am I invisible to these kids?
“One of your classmates, Joanie?” Dad asks.
I nod, biting my lip and blinking furiously to quell the tears. I've never been so emotional over this kind of stuff before. What's the deal? The last thing I want to do is bother my parents about it. They have enough on their minds, already. Besides, at sixteen, I should be taking care of my own problems.
“Your father has a big surprise for us, Joanie.” Mom's always happier when Dad's around. The phrase sets me to mentally hash-tagging the word surprise though, because Dad's surprises have a way of turning out to be disasters, sometimes.
I settle myself into the back seat and focus on the top of his bald head. Half bald, that is. Which he makes up for by letting the other half grow wild between haircuts. Thick, black curls hang halfway to his shoulders. With the window open, wind assistance makes him look more like a nutty professor than usual. All of which I have stopped trying to explain a long time, ago.
“Oh, my gosh, Dad,” I groan, as we leave the town behind us. “You haven't got us living in the sticks again, have you? I sort of wanted to be closer to everything, this time.” Which I already know isn't going to happen because I'm seeing fewer houses and more trees all the way. A sedated affect seems to have come over my parents. Neither of them have been the same since Dad's research partner disappeared into thin air last year.
We've all dealt with it in our own peculiar ways. Dad's typical days or week-long absences turning into weeks or a month. Of course he was left with having to train an assistant to help with some of the work but it wasn't the same. Mom goes into a slump whenever he's away too long, especially without Ted to do a big portion of the field work. He'd been with us so long he was more like part of the family than just a work colleague. He was actually the first one to get me interested in marine biology.
The police have pretty much given up on the case since it has been nearly a year but I don't believe anyone disappears without a trace. Neither do they, really, it's just they don't have enough time or manpower to keep up with cold cases. Which is why Riley and I started looking into it on our own. And now that we had actually moved to the place Ted had last been doing most of his work, I really had the feeling we would finally get lucky with at least one of our leads. But it wasn't going to help to be living who-knows-how-many miles outside of town.
“Dad,” I lower my voice. “I know we need to live close to the right hospitals with the right equipment—as well as the labs here. I get it—really I do. But I wish you'd remember that I'm kinda' shy. It'll be harder to make new friends if we live remote.”
Mum turns around with a worried look on her face. “You're not having problems at school, are you, Joanie?”
“Problems? Me?” I reach over to run a hand across the shoulder of her flower print dress to change the subject. “The new dress looks nice, Mom.”
“Glad you approve It is nice, isn't it?”
“Yeah. Goes good with your twinkly eyes and elegant hairdo.”
She felt the back of her clip to make sure all the brown strands were still tucked under. “Thought I'd put it up since it's a special occasion.”
“So...” I take in the palm trees and beaches we're zipping past. “Exactly how far is it to this place?”
“Fifty minutes tops,” Dad promises. Then he finds a good song on the radio and starts singing along happily.
Mom doesn't seem to be the least concerned that we're in the middle of nowhere—no stores and hardly any homes. In fact, she starts to sing along with Dad. But after a while she gets tired and leans back in her seat for a nap. Something she's been doing a lot, lately.
There is something totally relaxing about a drive, though, and I nearly fall asleep, myself, before my phone rings. No-one much calls me except Riley, so I'm not surprised to see his name pop up on the screen.
“Hi, Riles.” I whisper into the phone. “Dad's taking us to see our new place and you wouldn't believe where it is.”
“Almost there, love.” Dad half turns to reassure me, so I know he's heard. He doesn't know anything about us looking for Ted and would probably hit the roof if he knew some of the scrapes we'd gotten into because of it.
Riley just laughs. My boyfriend understands my father well—they've spent plenty enough time together when Dad was trying to pick up on some of Ted's field work and he needed someone local to take him into the rainforests around Perisher Valley. “Give it a chance, Jo.” he says to me. “I'll drive down this weekend to check it out, if you like.”
My spirits lift. Riley here for the weekend? Suddenly I'm more optimistic, too.
“Are you legal to drive this far, Rye? I mean, that would be awesome but I don't want you to take risks.”
“Yep. Just turned seventeen, so everything's cool. Anything you haven't told me yet?”
“Later.” I promise. “Dad's finally slowing down so we might be close. Maybe we'll have some friendly neighbors but at the moment I don't see any neighbors at all. I miss all the kids from the church youth group. Say hello to them for me, will you?”
“You betcha. But there's probably a youth group in Shark Heads, somewhere, Jo. Just ask around. And don't worry about the house. Remember, the great place he found in Perisher Valley and how you ended up loving it there? So, if your Dad chose this one, you'll probably love it, too.”
“True. But the best part about that one was you and I were neighbors. Remember how we met on the school bus the very first day? I bet Shark Heads doesn't even have a bus service this far out.”
I lean forward to interrogate Dad. “Where are we now?” I ask. “The Amazon? This area looks totally feral.”
“Chill, Jo.” I hear Riley say into my ear. “What do you want to bet he comes up with something awesome.”
Men! They always stick together.
“Ya' think? Hey— we're turning into a driveway and —I can see the beach! Riles, you're not going to believe this. We just pulled up outside a three-story, place that could double for a prehistoric castle! I'll have to get back to you later. Bye!” When Riley hangs up, I lean forward, again. “This is it?”
The man nods happily.
“Is it supposed to be a lighthouse? It looks kinda' like an old English castle on stilts, too. What do you think, Mom?”
She's looking, but I can tell she's trying hard to stay upbeat.
“Yes,” Dad finally admits, “It's a very old lighthouse. Hasn't been used as one for years. The elderly owner hardly touched a thing during all that time, so, we should have fun exploring.”
I stare at my father. Unable to think of how to answer that one.
“I know it's a little isolated, Joanie, but wait until you see all of it.”
Mom nods enthusiastic agreement, already opening her door to get out. She always agrees with him. I think even if he went insane, she'd go with him there, too.
“It's too far away from school.” Maybe a mention of my education will sway him.
“The bus ride will be worth it, believe me.”
“And I bet we're the only humans out here.”
He laughs. “Not quite. Trust me, you ladies will absolutely love it.” By this time, he's out of the car, unlocking the front door to our new adventure. “Here's the living room. Genuine antique furniture and a cozy stone fireplace. Great, eh? Big enough to hold a dance in here.”
Only for anyone who could afford the plane fare this far out, I think to myself. I glance over at Mom, who looks kinda' sleepy again, but that can't be right. She had a nap in the car. As for what she thinks about the house —she could never like this bizarre tower, could she? It's beyond creepy. That's when it hits me that—once, again —I've become a storm-rider in their latest nightmare.
Exactly when was it that my parents and I switched places?