The Seventeenth Summer (1995)
by Mark Peters
Chapter 13
When Danny made it home he found that his mother still hadn't arrived, and so he spent the next ten minutes sitting on the back steps growing crankier and crankier.
'Jesus, if she wasn't coming straight home why the fuck did she tell me I had to?' he fumed. Was it little wonder he felt his family was going crazy and he was now thinking about getting the hell away from here just as soon as he could?
After a while he picked up a tennis ball that was lying around and started throwing it at the wall of the garage and catching it when it bounced back, all the while trying to avoid the temptation of throwing it directly at the window just on the other side of the side door into the garage.
Eventually he heard the sound of the family car and so he stopped what he was doing as he watched the white Datsun station wagon – which he thought was a total embarrassment of a vehicle – come up the drive. He watched as his mother and his brother and sister climbed out of the car. The two kids hurried inside, but his mother just stood there looking at him.
'Thanks a lot, mum,' Danny finally said. 'Why don't you embarrass me in front of my mate! Don't you know that I'm not a little kid anymore, or hadn't you noticed?'
'Danny . . . I . . . I'm sorry. I've been talking to Sergeant Bailey and he told me what happened to your friend Jake, and what you and Nate did for him.'
So, which face was Dr Jekyll and which one was Mr Hyde, Danny wondered?
'Couldn't you have thought to find that out before you bawled me out in front of my friend and made a complete fool out of me, like I was a twelve-year-old?'
'He'll get over it,' Mrs Anderson responded.
'Yeah, maybe he will. But what about me? Don't you care about how I felt about it?'
'I said I was sorry, Danny. What more do you want me to say?'
'I just told you . . . I want you to stop treating me like a little kid. What Nate and I did yesterday was something good . . . something important. Hell, we might have even saved Jake's life, and all you can think about was how embarrassed you were about someone seeing us being spoken to by Sergeant Bailey. You know, that's what's wrong with this whole fucking town! And I'm sick of it and I can't wait to get the hell out of here!'
'Danny! Don't you dare use that language in front of me!' his mother scolded him.
'Or what, mum? What are you going to do?' Danny yelled back at her, before storming off into the house, slamming doors as he went and making the whole house shudder.
These days he towered over his mother and seeing him like this, a side to him she hadn't seen before, had scared the hell out of her.
With a sigh she closed the car door before leaning back against it, on the verge of tears as she struggled to figure out just what was going on inside the head of her eldest son these days. He was right, of course; she was still treating him like he was her baby boy, and she would probably always think of him in that way, but still, that certainly didn't give him an excuse to talk to her like that. Perhaps his father might be able to get through to him, she wondered, although she also suspected that would be a lost cause as well, given their recent run-in, the details of which still eluded her.
After giving herself a few minutes to gather her senses, Mrs Anderson gathered up the few bags of groceries from the back seat of the car and started to make her way inside. Before she had even made it halfway, however, she was stopped in her tracks as Danny came out the back door. He stopped at the top of the steps just briefly, looking down at his mother, before jumping down and crossing the yard to where she stood, then taking the bags from her.
'I'm sorry, mum. I didn't mean to swear like that . . . it's just . . .'
'It's okay, Dan. I know that growing up isn't easy these days . . .'
'It's . . . it's more than just that,' he said.
'Do you want to talk about it?'
'No,' he answered. 'Not now,' he said, before turning and heading back inside the house.
While Danny was helping his mother pack away groceries in the kitchen, Nate was still riding around downtown in search of Thomas and Pat. He had been down to the beach, and back to the boardwalk, but without any luck, and was just about to give up and head for Thomas' home to see if he was there when he spied the two of them coming out of the milk bar, so he headed over to them.
'Hey, guys. What's cookin'?' he cheerfully greeted them.
'Hey, Nate,' Thomas answered.
'Where's your boyfriend?' giggled Pat.
'I think he's been grounded,' Nate replied, while not wanting to give too much away. 'So, what have you been up to? Anything exciting happening? Man, wasn't that movie cool last night?'
'Yeah, it was awesome. Nothing much else going down though,' Thomas replied.
'Unless you count what happened to Frank's car,' added Pat.
'Why? What happened?' Nate asked, his interest suddenly piqued.
'Seems it was trashed last night. All the lights got broken and someone painted stuff up the sides,' said Pat.
'What kind of stuff?' urged Nate.
'I don't know. We were going to ride around the other side of the lake and see if we could get a look at it. You want to come with us?'
'Yeah, why not,' Nate replied. 'I sure as hell don't have anything better to do.'
Thomas and Pat had stowed their bikes in the racks near the lakeside car park and so the three of them walked down the main street until they reached them, before the boys quickly undid the combination locks and pulled the bikes out.
From downtown it was a fairly leisurely ride around the shores of the lake to where the row of old houses stood looking out over the water, then heading south from the main street and over the two bridges, the first of which crossed the creek, and the second of which was in fact a weir, separating the freshwater lake from the saltwater harbor which the small local fishing fleet called home.
The weir had been built back in the nineteen thirties, not long after someone had been attacked by a bull shark in the lake . . . not unlike what had happened in Jaws last night. It wasn't long after that the build-up of water in the lake threatened some of the low lying areas along the lake's edge and needed to be released. That was when an overflow canal was built just near the end of the main street, which is what everyone these days simply called the creek .
From the weir the road simply followed the edge of the lake, while another road also turned off it and headed south, following the coastline towards Macquarie Harbour.
The south side was now considered to be the better side of town, with new houses going up all the time, but the further you went around the lake these days the more run down things became – despite the fact that these properties had million dollar water views.
Finding Frank Thompson's place didn't prove too difficult, the boys just had to look for the house with the pile of broken down cars along the front of it. When they found those they also found a red Valiant which had some newly applied graffiti along both sides, with words like rapist and homo still being clearly visible, despite the efforts of Frank and several of his mates who were all working hard at removing the new additions.
'Holy shit! Do you see that?' Thomas whispered as they stood there and looked at what was going on in Frank's yard.
The car was a mess. Way worse than Jake's was. And Nate couldn't have been happier.
'Why the hell would someone do that?' Pat asked.
'Well, maybe that's what Frank is?' Nate ventured. 'Maybe whoever did this knows him better than any of us?'
'What? That's plain crazy!'
'They said it happened while he was at the movies last night and half the town saw it as they were coming out after the late show!' offered Thomas. 'So now everyone will think he's like that, whether he is or not. Apparently he was pretty pissed about it!'
'Funny that,' said Nate, while trying not to laugh. 'What a way for someone to get revenge, eh?'
'What do you mean by revenge?' Thomas asked.
'I . . . errr . . . well, it just seems to fit doesn't it? You wouldn't do something like that unless he had done something to you, or someone you know, would you?'
'No, I guess not . . . I dunno . . .' Thomas answered.
It was just then that Frank noticed the three boys watching him and his friends working on the car and he started taking a few steps towards them, yelling out, 'What the fuck do you punks think you're doing? Go on, fuck off out of here!' while waving his arms around at them.
The boys didn't need to be told twice. They'd already seen enough anyhow so they hit the road, soon pedaling like crazy to get as far away from Frank and his cronies as they could. They knew he had a short fuse and they certainly didn't want to be the next to face his wrath.
They continued around the lake, in the same direction as they had started out, which would eventually bring them back to town on the northern side, where they all lived. Nate wasn't sure about what might be going through the minds of his companions, but in his own mind he was fairly certain that he knew who had done that to the car. What he was somewhat disappointed about though was that Frank himself seemed to have gone untouched. After what he had done to Jake, Nate would have been much happier if Frank had at least been roughed up a bit.
For a few moments he wondered if that made him a bad person, but when the image of a naked and beaten Jake came back to him, not to mention all the stories he had heard about Frank and his family over the past few years, he realised that he felt no guilt about those feelings at all. Frank Thompson deserved everything that he got and he hoped that one way or another there would be more to come.
When they reached the edge of town, and the road that he knew would take him towards Danny's house, Nate called out to the others and said he was going to head off to see Danny. They waved him farewell and kept on riding, while Nate swerved off the road they were on and started pedaling along the road to Danny's; a road that was lined with leafy, shade giving trees and older styled, but well-kept houses.
It was the middle of the day and he was enjoying that feeling of having the hot summer sun on his back and the wind in his hair. And when the ocean breeze kicked in, cooling his hot, sweat covered skin, he felt a shiver pass through him, which told him he was alive, and school was out, and there was no better place in the world to be at this time of year.
As he turned into Danny's street the first thing he noticed was that there was no sign of Danny's stepfather's truck, which was a relief to him as the guy had always creeped him out . . . not that he could ever tell Danny that. Nate didn't know what it was about the man, but he always tried to avoid him wherever possible, and besides, Danny had told him enough about his stepfather to know that he was worth steering clear of.
When he got closer to Danny's house, which was about half way along the block, Nate could hear the sound of a lawn mower going, but wasn't sure exactly where it was coming from. When he rode into Danny's yard, however, he soon found the source of the noise, as Danny was busy mowing the front lawn, pushing the Victa mower back and forth across the front yard, while trying to avoid the garden beds and various shrubs that were his mother's pride and joy.
'What's this? Punishment?' Nate asked when Danny cut the mower's engine after spotting him standing there by the mail box.
Danny simply shrugged. 'Not really. I'd have to do it sometime, so now seemed like as good a time as any. Besides, I reckoned I needed to get back in her good books after mouthing off at her when she finally got home.'
'What a suck!' Nate giggled.
Just then Danny's mother stuck her head out the front door, obviously wondering why the mower had stopped.
'Oh, hi there, Nate. How about I get you boys some drinks,' she said. Nate gave her a wave but she disappeared back inside before she would have even seen it.
'Is it just me, or is your mum doing a Jeckyll and Hyde act today?' Nate asked, as Danny led him over to a shady spot below a Jacaranda tree, which was in full bloom, where they sat down with their backs against the fence.
'No, it's not just you. That's exactly what I was thinking earlier. I can't work her out at all . . . she just gets like this sometimes,' Danny replied, with a sad edge to his voice. 'Between putting up with her and the old man I sometimes wonder if I'm the only sane one in the house.'
'C'mon, it can't be that bad.'
'Want to try swapping places for a while?'
'Nah, mate. I have enough trouble figuring out how to handle my own family, let alone someone else's.'
Danny smiled. He knew just what Nate had meant.
'So, did you find the guys?' Danny asked, but it was just at that moment when his mother chose to come out the front door carrying some cans of coke for the two of them.
'Errr . . . yeah, I did,' came Nate's somewhat guarded reply as he eyed Danny's approaching mother.
'Here you go, boys,' Mrs Anderson said, while crossing the freshly mown lawn, before handing the boys their cans of drink.
'Thanks Mrs A.,' Nate replied.
'Thanks mum,' added Danny.
For a moment or two she looked down at the two of them and appeared as if she was about to say something, but in the end she just gave them a nod and left them.
'Geez, I thought for a minute she was going to say something then and send me packing,' Nate remarked, once she was safely back inside.
'She'll probably say it all to me later,' Danny sighed. 'So, you said you found the guys. What did you find out?'
'Oh, man. Just wait till I see Lachie. I think I'm going to kiss him!'
'What the fuck?' squeaked Danny.
'Thomas and Pat heard that Frank's car got worked over, so we went for a ride round the other side of the lake to where Frank lives. You should see it! All the lights are smashed in and it had homo and rapist painted up the side.'
'Fair dinkum?'
'Oh, shit yeah! I don't know if there was much else done to it . . . Frank and his buddies were trying to clean the paint and stuff off it when they saw us there and chased us off, so we couldn't really get a close enough look at it. Apparently it happened last night while he was at the movies, so then he had to drive it home like that! Half the town would have seen it!'
'Oh, man! How sweet is that!' Danny exclaimed, his excitement obviously difficult to contain.
'I'll talk to Lachie when I get home and find out just what happened.
'Shit, I hope the sarge doesn't put two and two together and come up with Jake as the answer!' Danny said, suddenly sounding concerned.
'But he had an alibi, didn't he?' Nate replied. 'You said that you were with him.'
'Yeah, I was, but if it comes to that do you think the sarge is gonna believe someone like me? And besides, that would just put me in the shit with my folks even deeper, because we both told them that I was with you.'
'Well, I'll tell them all that I was with you guys as well.'
'You can't do that, mate. You'll only get in the shit yourself by doing that.'
'Well, let's just hope that the Sarge doesn't find out and start asking questions then.'
For the next little while they both leaned back against the fence and sipped on their drinks, while they turned things over in their minds.
The more he thought about it the more pleased he was about what had happened, although, truth be known he also would have liked to have seen Frank get the touch-up he deserved.
By the time he had finished his drink Danny was chuckling to himself, which earned him a curious look from Nate.
'It actually said rapist and homo ?' he asked, unable to disguise the note of incredulity in his voice.
'In big white letters . . . spray painted on!'
'How cool is that?' Danny laughed.
'Fuck, you should have seen it . . .'
'Yeah, I can imagine, but seeing the look on Frank's face would have been even better!'
'Oh man, it was well worth having him chase us out of his yard just to see it. Trust me!' Nate laughed. 'What the fuck do you punks think you're doing? Go on, fuck off out of here!' Nate yelled, while still laughing and at the same time waving his arms around, doing his worst Frank Thompson impersonation.
Danny started laughing with him, and pretty soon the pair of them were cackling away like a couple of idiots, totally oblivious to the anything else that might be going on around them.
When the laughter eventually died down, and reality brought them back to earth, the boys were left grinning at each other, satisfied that in some way at least Jake's bashing had at least partly been avenged.
Nate would tackle Lachie about it again later and try and get some more detail, but at least now he had something solid he could challenge him with.
'When are we going to tell Jake about it?' Nate asked, as he polished off the last of his coke.
'I told him I'd call around this afternoon . . .'
'But?' Nate prompted, sensing that there was something else that Danny had wanted to say.
'But that might depend on how things are here . . .' Danny replied.
'You mean, like if you've been grounded for the next hundred years?'
'Yeah, something like that,' offered Danny, giving a wry smile as he did so, while at the same time silently contemplating just how he could get to visit Jake again today, no matter the cost.
'Don't worry too much, mate. We'll get there this afternoon,' Nate reassured his friend. 'Even if we've got to smuggle you out in a wheelbarrow covered over with lawn clippings!'
'Yeah, right! I can see that working!' Danny laughed.
In the end it proved much easier than they thought. After Nate had helped Danny finish mowing the lawn and cleaning up, he suggested that they go down to the beach for a surf; being sure to say it while inside the house to grab another drink and being within earshot of Danny's mother. Danny didn't hold out much hope that his mother would let him go, so when she suggested that it would be a good idea, especially after his having mown the lawn on what was a hot day, he was more than just a little surprised.
'Just be home in time for dinner,' she called out as they raced out the back door.
When the boys arrived at the caravan park a little while later, with their hair plastered to their skulls and sweat pouring from their bodies, eager to tell Jake their news about Frank's car, they hadn't counted on finding the cabin he was staying in being empty.
His car was still there, all locked up just like the cabin was, but when they banged on the door there was no answer.
'Maybe he's over taking a shower or something?' Nate suggested. 'Or maybe he's found some guy and they're off doing it someplace!'
'Shut up!' Danny snapped. 'He wouldn't be doing that.'
'Heyyy . . . don't bite my head off!' Nate replied, while at the same time wondering just why that would matter if he was.
Danny was looking around the park, then looking through the cabin windows, then trying the doors on the panel van, yet again. When he finished that he straightened up, then his gaze settled on the roof racks on top of the van.
'He's at the beach,' he said.
'How can you tell?'
'There's only one surf board here. So where else would he be?'
Nate looked at the roof racks and the lone surf board that was now tied to them.
'He must be feeling better then,' Danny said.
'Well, let's go find out,' suggested Nate. 'I'll race you to the beach.'
The beach was only just over the sand dunes from where the caravan park sat, and with several paths leading through the grass and scrubby tree-covered dunes they didn't have far to go. As soon as Nate issued his challenge he set off at a run in the direction of the nearest path through the dunes, getting a head start on Danny, but not being one to ever shirk a dare Danny quickly set off in pursuit of his friend, leaving some bemused park residents wondering just what they were up to.
'You're getting too slow old man,' Nate called over his shoulder without looking back, knowing that Danny was still somewhere behind him. What he hadn't prepared himself for, however, was the fact that Danny was much closer than he thought he would be, as he was suddenly crash-tackled into the sand by a flying body.
'Who's getting too slow now, arsehole?' Danny growled into his ear, before laughing and letting go, then jumping back to his feet and continuing down the path at a run.
'You'll keep!' Nate called out to him as he got to his feet and dusted himself off, before jogging the rest of the way, soon finding Danny standing on the beach, scanning the waves for Jake. 'Can you see him?' Nate asked as he rested his forearm on his friend's bare shoulder and leaned against him.
There were quite a lot of people out on the beach today, as well as quite a few people in the water, but so far there was no sign of Jake.
'Nah, not yet. Maybe he's sitting out past the breaks waiting for a wave or something?' Danny wondered aloud.
'Or Jaws has got him already!'
'Geez . . . you can be such a dick sometimes!' Danny chuckled, then playfully pushed his friend away, before turning his attention back to the water where he could see some nice waves rolling in.
Each time a rider managed to grab a wave Danny was quick to check them out, hoping that it would be Jake who would be on his way back to shore, but each time he was to be disappointed. He couldn't help but admire the teen guys who seemed to make it look so effortless . . . not just for their skills with the boards, but also for what they represented; the freedom of being a surfer and living that life, as well as their youthful beauty, which was something he was rapidly beginning to appreciate thanks to what Jake had been showing him these past few weeks.
It wasn't a sexual thing, although those thoughts did cross his mind often enough, it really was more of a growing appreciation of the beauty that surrounded him, which Danny seemed to be taking more note of lately. He was seeing everything around him in a different light nowadays, from nature's beauty with the lake and the ocean and the mountains, to the beauty of the people.
There was, of course, another less attractive side to everything that surrounded him, which he had been reminded of by what had happened to Jake, but being able to see and absorb the beauty of the world he lived in, that was what really mattered, and far outweighed the negatives.
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