By Amanda Jeanne le Bas de Plumetot
ajlbdp@deakin.edu.au
 

Date: Thu, 18 Jan 1996

G'day. I'm trying something a bit different (for me) with this. I hope
it isn't too slow moving for readers. It contains no sex :( and only
school yard violence and bad language.

DISCLAIMER: The Mulder family is the property of Chris Carter and Ten
Thirteen productions. These characters have been used without
permission.

In the unlikely event that Justin should read this story and recognise
himself, I extend deepest apologies. I really do think you and Fox
would have got on as kids, though.

My thanks also go to Mike Gray for his completely revolting article
(with ewwwwww picture) on page 8 of the Spring 1995 edition of NATURE
AUSTRALIA.  Dead or alive, hunties are utterly revolting!

This story is copyright Amanda le Bas de Plumetot
 

FATE LINE 1/2

"It'th not fair," Samantha slumped back in her seat and stared out her
window at the tear streaked clouds below her.

"Look, Sam, it's gonna be fun," Fox had done his level best to cheer
her up, even giving up the coveted window seat, but nothing was
working.

"They wouldn't even let me take my kitty," she started sobbing again.

"Sam...look at this," he held up the tourist brochure in front of her,
"In Australia they have great animals. I bet we could catch a koala
bear and have that as a pet," he pointed to the picture in the
brochure; a little girl cuddling a koala, "Don't you think that could
be as good as a cat?"

"Don't be thtupid, Fokth," she snapped, hitting the brochure out of
his hands.

"You're the one that's *thtupid* THAMANTHA," he hit back at her. That
lisp she'd developed since losing her two front teeth a week or so ago
was irritating the hell out of him, and if she wasn't prepared to
enjoy the adventure with him, well, he was just about tired and
fractious enough to make a really good fight of it. Their mother
intervened, and within moments he found himself sitting beside his
father, with his mother taking the seat in front, with Samantha.

Fox settled and let himself doze, thinking of the sudden upheaval that
their lives had seen over the past five weeks. It had been upsetting,
of course, but good in a way. He'd been the centre of attention at
school, and they'd done projects about the cities and animals in
Australia. The house had been a mess with packing and tidying, but
there was the fun of the garage sale, and Fox had made a handy profit
on some of his old comics and toys that he'd really grown out
of. Samantha was very upset that she couldn't take her kitten to
Australia, she'd only had it a few weeks, it had been a present for
her seventh birthday, just before they'd heard they were going to
leave home. Fox couldn't see any problem with taking a kitten on an
aeroplane with them, but there was something about quarrantine that
made it illegal to take cats to Australia. The payoff for Samantha's
unhappiness was their father's state of mind, though. Since bringing
home the news of their transfer, their father had been a different
man. He'd taken them to Pizza Hut and told them about the adventure
that was coming up. He was happy and joking with them. He'd even given
up smoking, something that certainly seemed to make their mother a
whole lot happier.  Fox wasn't sure if it meant a big pay rise, or
maybe just some kind of adventure his dad had always wanted to have,
but the move obviously meant a lot to him.

For his own sake, Fox was not sure how he felt about the move. It was
an adventure, he liked that. It meant being without his friends and
the neighbourhood he loved so much. He certainly didn't like
that. There had been promises to write, and they were the kind of
idealistic promises that a nine year old makes, not realising he has
no intention of keeping them.  There hadn't been time to sell the
house in the weeks leading up to the move, so they had let it out as
rental property. In the back of his mind, Fox never really said his
final goodbye to the house.  It was simply too much to think that he
had walked out the door for the very last time.

The plane was making its final descent into Melbourne Airport. They'd
been on Australian soil for nearly half a day, with the initial
landing in Sydney and getting through customs there. But that didn't
count. This was the real thing. His father had been stationed in
Melbourne, and this was where they were going to be. Sydney had been
rather tropical, hot and wet.  A lot like Hawaii on the way across the
Pacific. Melbourne was just hot. It didn't seem right that the middle
of February should be like this. They'd left a snowman in the front
yard, now, less than three days later, all he wanted to do was go for
a swim.

They only had a couple of suitcases with them, the bulk of their
belongings were being shipped surface and would not arrive for weeks
yet. They lugged their cases out of the terminal building and onto the
concourse which looked boringly like any other airport, though Fox
thought that perhaps the sky was a little bluer than at home. They
piled into a taxi that didn't have air conditioning and were talked
at, for the entire hour and a half of their journey, by a man whose
Italian/Australian accent rendered him totally incomprehensible. Not
that it seemed to worry their father at all, he laughed and joked with
the man the whole time.

The house was a disappointment too. It was just...a house. A regular
brick bungalow. Sort of newish but nothing special. The main
difference Fox could discern was that the electrical power sockets
were a different shape.  Apparently the electricity that came out of
them was different too, because they'd sold all their appliances in
the garage sale, despite Fox's idea to bring them across and just put
new plugs on them.

"Even the tv?" he had asked miserably.

"They use a different system there," his father had told him, "I think
we might buy a new colour set."

Now there was a carrot to dangle before a nine year old. He helped his
parents unpack the suitcases and walked in and out of the nearly empty
rooms. His father's new boss had met them on the way and brought their
key.  Basic furnishings had been bought, beds and bed linen and towels
so that the tired travellers could shower and sleep. There was also a
box of groceries on the bench in the kitchen. The boss had also
provided his dad with a roll of colourful Australian money and a
credit disc from one of the large department stores so that they could
go shopping for a fridge and a radio...and of course that very
desirable colour tv.

Fox was disappointed that we wasn't allowed to help with the shopping,
although his mother had promised him and Sam a day when they would all
go to the toy shop and choose something special. He wasn't sure just
how special things could be, but he was going to try for a dragster
bike. While their parents filled the house with whitegoods and linen,
Fox and Samantha spent their first day at school. The boss had
enrolled them and even organised their books.

"Didn't want you to miss out on too much schooling," he said with a
smile.

Fox cursed his thoughtfullness. The school was, he decided,
particularly boring as schools went. It was a red brick two storey
affair that by Fox's calculations must have been built by the first
settlers for their children.  Decrepit was a good word for it. The
playground was worse. A couple of boring yards, mainly asphalt with a
bit of dirt. The headmaster gave a boring speech at first assembly and
Fox found his way to the room he'd been shown and the teacher he'd met
the previous day. He stood at the front of the class feeling
uncomfortable while the teacher introduced him to the sea of thirty
faces (at least half of which were, to his relief, not even turned in
his direction.) Some of them laughed at his name. They'd have to get
used to it. He was sent to sit at a large, uncomfortable desk built
for two. He shared it with a girl called Sue who had stringy, greasy
hair and milk-bottle glasses and a bit of an aroma. He understood
immediately why the other kids had avoided sitting here. Fox and Sue
ignored each other while they worked. The whole class was given milk
to drink and then a bell rang and it was playtime. The children burst
onto the hot asphalt of the playground and made their way to the shade
provided by the flowering gums that were planted all along the fence
line.

Fox had been aware that kids were following, he was hoping that their
intent was friendly, though he knew he was just being optimistic.

"American!" said a voice, and made it sound like an insult.

"Yeah. Yank Yank septic tank," it was a catchy chant, and several of
them took it up. Then things started getting physical. A tug at his
shirt, "Where's your uniform septic tank? Did you flush it down the
dunny?"  laughter and then pushing. He was hoping a teacher would come
to his rescue. There were too many of them for him to push back. He
was badly outnumbered. At the front of the pack was a snotty nosed,
wiry, rat-faced kid who had led the chant. "Fox *Mouldy*!" sneered the
rat-faced kid, and with both hands shoved hard so that Fox landed flat
on his back in the dust. The kid moved in close, he was going to start
kicking. Fox was trying hard not to cry. Then he heard a new voice.

"Jeez you're a wimp McKenzie."

"He's  just a seppo," said rat-face defensively.

"Yair, and it would have to take all twelve of you to push him to the
ground. You are all weak as piss.  So just piss off, the lot of you."

Rat face and his friends made a grudging retreat from their prey and
Fox gazed up at the boy who had sent them on their way. This was a
*big* kid, and Fox wasn't sure if he was actually being rescued, or
just being delivered out of the hands of one threat, into another.

"What did you say your name was?" said the big kid, "Mouldy?"

"Mulder. Fox Mulder."

"You know foxes are vermin in Australia," he put out his hand, "Your
mum's gunna kill you if you stay down there, you'll get filthy. C'mon
Vermin."  Fox let himself be helped up by the bigger boy and in that
moment their friendship was sealed.

The big boy's name was Justin and he was a head taller than any other
kid in grade four. Despite being tall he was easy going and tended to
stick up for the underdog, as he had shown in the playground that
morning. He liked Fox, the new kid was different enough to get under
his skin and before the day was over Fox had learned what it was to
have a "mate".

Things did not go so well for Samantha. There was no big friendly girl
to help her out, nor had there been any scene in the playground. The
girls simply ignored her, froze her out of their games, moved away if
she tried to join in with them. Fox thought of Sue who he sat next to
and wondered if that's what Samantha would look like in two years'
time.

Fox and Samantha walked home together in a companionable silence. He
hoped she would be okay in time. The house was full of empty bags from
various shops, though there wasn't that much to interest kids. They
looked at their bedroom furnishings. Their mother had gone to a lot of
trouble to make things nice for them. Fox's bed was dressed in a new
doona, a feather quilt that would keep him too warm on the summer
nights. It was bagged in a quilt cover that featured motorbike
racers. Sam's room was frilly and pink with kittens on the doona
bag. They only reminded her of her abandoned kitty and made her cry.

Their father got the new television out of its box. Fox helped with a
kind of nine year old enthusiasm that involved trying to disintergrate
the polystyrene packing till he got yelled at. Samantha had gone into
her room to sulk. They were fiddling with the aerial of the television
when they heard the scream.

"A THPIDER!! Mommy a THPIDER!!! Mommeeeeeee," and then sobbing.

Fox experienced a moment's guilt, wondering what he had done with the
rather fabulous rubber spider from last year's Hallowe'en party, but
he was sure it hadn't been hidden anywhere in Sam's room. He followed
his parents to see what all the fuss was about. High up on the wall of
Samantha's bedroom sat something that was, by Fox's reckoning, far too
big to be a spider. Its body was kind of modest to large. It was maybe
a little bigger than a quater...or a twenty cent coin. But spread out,
its legs would have easily covered a dinner plate. Their father stood
on the bed, one shoe in his hand and swatted the spider. Most of it
fell to the floor leaving a pulpy brown smear and one leg clinging to
the wall.

"That'th *dithguthting*!" said Sam, "I'm nautheouth," she walked out
of the room with their mother, apparently agreeing with her, following
close behind.

"That was a *triantular*," Justin told him the next day, eyes as big
as saucers, "They're not poisonous or anything, but my dad reckons
they're something worse."

"How can you have worse than being poisoned?" said Fox.

"Well, you can go to the hospital and get a needle to make you better
from being poisoned, but my dad reckons there's no cure for being
*scared* to death."

It was a funny concept and the two boys laughed about it all day. Even
when Fox's father came home that night and agreed with Justin that
triantulars (or "huntsmen spiders", as he claimed they were called,)
were not venemous, Fox was still convinced about their fatal
possibilities.

Fox and Samantha woke early on Saturday morning. They had been
promised a trip into town, to do a little shopping of their own. Fox
had a feeling, just from the look in his father's eye, that the bike
was going to be a very big possibility. He fell in love almost at once
with a very racy looking red dragster. It was like nothing else in the
shop existed and Fox could hardly believe his eyes when his father
wheeled it towards the cash register. Sam and their mother were
standing there, Sam had the latest Barbie doll in her hands, though
she didn't seem overly happy with it. It was as though she didn't want
to concede even that small joy.

They packed the bike into the boot of the car and while Fox yearned to
be home and riding, Sam stared at the doll in her lap.

"Now there's the other thing, Bill," said their mother. Fox saw him
look at her with a resigned expession on his face.

Their mother could be utterly implacable when her needs were thwarted,
their father knew he had no chance. He flipped the street directory
over to her, "Just tell me how to get there," he ordered.

"Where are we going?" asked Fox.

"You'll see."

"Tell me."

"Be patient."

"Yeah. Shut up Fokth."

They almost managed to turn it into a fight, but the threat of going
nowhere and missing out on the mysterious side trip was enough to calm
them down. Fox heard the dogs barking first, and there was a bit of a
smell about the place.

"What is this? Where are we? A dogpound or something?"

"Got it in one, son."

"Thith plath *thinkth!" complained Samantha.

"Oh, well, I still think you'd better come with us," insisted their
mother.

They followed, Sam wrinkling her nose and Fox very curious.

"But we never lost a dog, dad. Why are we here?"

"Well, this place isn't just where people find their own lost
animals," said their mother, "Sometimes people buy pets here, too."

"But you're allergic to dogs," Fox protested, aware that already his
mother's eyes had begun to look red and watery, "Oh, Fox, they have
animals other than dogs here."

In that moment Samantha saw the sign pointing to the cattery and her
excited shrieking almost drowned the constant cacophony of the
dogs. She chose a ginger and white kitten, which really surprised Fox,
who was sure she would take a little black one which looked just like
the one she had left at home. She explained that this one was cuter,
and given the huge range of colours available, went for the one that
reminded her of the picture for "October" on last year's calendar. The
kitten was named Pumpkin.

Pumpkin accepted his new home with happy grace. Or so Fox was told. He
was too busy exploring the neighbourhood on his new bike to really
think about it. He had to keep reminding himself to ride on the wrong
side of the road and watch out for cars that were doing the same
thing, but he was getting better at that. You got used to it after a
while. He loved the bike. It represented a kind of freedom that he had
been needing for a very long time.  He rode to Justin's place to show
off and then the two of them rode around the streets. Justin's bike
was not a dragstar, it was just the plain kind of bike, a twenty-six
incher, second hand from his big brother Simon.  It wasn't anywhere
near as cool as the dragstar, but Fox tried not to say anything.

The nights were ridiculously hot for school weather, but the kids just
had to suffer that. Fox tossed and turned in a bed sticky with
sweat. He stared at the stars, upside down through his window. He
waited for a faint breath of sea breeze to cool him. He fell into a
doze and was woken by a noise. He wasn't sure what it was at first and
strained to listen. There was nothing moving in the house. Pumpkin had
curled up on Sam's bed and he could hear the heavy sighs of his
parents' sleeping breath. In the distance there was the engine sound
of a car and then...there it was again. Someone whistling.  A sharp
commanding whistle, and then a shout. He wondered what it was. Boys
maybe, big kids out on the road at two in the morning, making trouble.

He crept lightly out of bed and down the hallway to the lounge room
which had large windows facing onto the road. The curtains were pulled
back and the windows open, in the hope of catching a breath of cool
breeze. He stood by the window and peered down the street. There was
another noise now; the rhythmic sound of something that might have
been chains rattling and the beat of horses hooves. The whistle and
shout again, "Get up!"  Fox was frozen, paralysed by a chill of
apprehension at what he might see next.  Some antipodean version of
Ichabod Crane, the Headless Horsemen? There was still time to run back
to his bed and pretend he had heard nothing, only now the clatter of
hooves was with him and he saw the whole thing under the street
light. There was a man running from house front to house front,
collecting milk bottles. In the dead of night they brought the milk,
and the waggon was pulled by a horse. The chains on the horse's
harness rattled, the sound enchanced by the clinking of the milk
bottles in the wagon. No one guided the horse with reins, it simply
took itself, slowing down occasionally and being encouraged by a
whistle and a shout from the man. He watched as the man took their two
empty bottles and replaced them with frosty cold full ones. It was
like magic. A moment later the man and the horse were gone in the
night. For a little while Fox could still hear them rattling and
calling away on their rounds, but eventually it all merged into sleep.

Justin taught Fox how to play cricket. Fox showed Justin how to play
softball. Justin showed Fox how to kick a footy. Fox showed Justin how
to throw a football. Justin shook his head, "You'll be freed against
if the umpire catches you chucking it like that."

They worked together on projects and rode their bikes together after
school. Fox still worried about Samantha, she still didn't seem to
have any friends, though she seemed quite happy to play with Pumpkin
when she was home. Sam had also grown a decent pair of teeth in the
front, and had lost that irritating lisp. Sometimes after school
Justin would come to play, or Fox would go to his house. They would
lie side by side in front of the tv, eating and reading Justin's
substantial collection of Mad comics...most of them pinched from
Simon.

"Let's have a Vegemite sandwich," Justin suggested one evening at his
place. He put the makings on the bench in front of Fox and then
decided he needed the toilet. Fox had never really encountered
Vegemite, aside from seeing the ads for it on tv. He spread the butter
on the bread and then took a decent knife full of the greasy looking
black substance in the jar.  He spread it thickly onto the bread and
Justin walked into the room just as Fox bit into his sandwich. The
expression on Justin's face was a mixture of horror, revulsion and
sheer curiosity. Fox bit down onto the sandwich and almost immediately
gagged on its contents. This stuff tasted every bit as bad as it
looked. He spat it into the sink, convinced that Justin had played a
trick on him.

"Jeez, Vermin," said Justin scratching his head, "At first I was
really surprised. I thought, Jeez, you Americans really must like
Vegemite a lot.  I didn't realise you'd never eaten it before. You're
only meant to put a *little* bit on. You had about enough for a
hundred sandwiches on that bit of bread."

Day after day of unchangingly hot, clear, perfect weather rolled
Summer into Autumn. Few of the trees made any effort to change their
leaves. There would be no fall show in Melbourne. Fox crawled early
out of bed and ambled into the kitchen to get himself breakfast. No
one else was up. As he walked past the kitchen bench, he noticed
something moving and stopped dead. It was a worm. Not an earthworm,
but a very long, thin worm, twitching and writhing in spastic
loops. One end of it was in a half-drunk cup of tea that his parents
had left on the bench overnight. The other end led to...Fox grimaced
and drew back. One of those horrible spiders. The spider was dead, its
legs were folded up, it lay beside the cup in its own puddle of tea.

The whole scene left Fox feeling rather ill. He was inclined to agree
with Samantha's original impression of the big spiders...they were
disgusting.  He didn't understand this whole macarbre scene with the
worm, but it seemed unnatural and put him off his breakfast. He went
to tell his parents about it. His father was curious about the spider
and worm, and, taking care not to touch either with his bare hands,
gathered them up into a jar.

"One of the fellows at work is an entomologist," he explained, "I'm
sure Mike will know what all this is about. Or he'll know someone who
knows."

About a week later, Fox received a letter in the mail. The envelope
bore the letterhead of the museum, and when he opened it, the letter
explained what had happened to the spider.

"Dear Fox,
What an interesting name you have. My friend Mike told me that your
father brought in the dead spider and a worm which you found in a cup
of tea. He said you are very curious about the natural world and
thought you might like me to explain what happened to the poor spider.
        The worm in the coffee was a kind of mermithid nematode. When
it was in its larval form, the spider would have eaten it. But instead
of being digested by the spider along with the rest of its food it set
up house, and *it* began to eat the spider...from the inside. Slowly
the worm was eating the spider's digestive glands and reproductive
glands. Slowly the spider was getting sicker and sicker, its insides
were filling up with the worm as it grew bigger and bigger. But the
worm left the spider's vital organs intact, so that it did not die,
the worm needed the spider alive for one last thing.
        In its own final stage of life, the worm must find water so
that it too can reproduce. The spider was driven to go to water. Well,
the only water the poor old spider at your house could find was a cup
of cold tea, so he just had to make the best of it. The worm erupted
out of him, and that was what sounded the death knell for your spider,
and that was what you found.
        I hope you have found this explaination interesting. I think
the world of insects and spiders and the like is quite fascinating. If
you have any other questions, I would love to hear from you.
        All the best..."

It was followed by an incomprehensible signature. Fox couldn't
understand how anyone could feel sorry for one of those revolting
spiders. He was appalled and disgusted by the description of what had
happened with the spider and the worm.  He was also intruiged and
fascinated.
 

===========================================================================

From: Amanda Jeanne le Bas de Plumetot <ajlbdp@deakin.edu.au>
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW STORY: Fate Line 2/2
Date: Thu, 18 Jan 1996 08:02:40 -0800
 

G'day. I'm trying something a bit different (for me) with this. I hope
it isn't too slow moving for readers. It contains no sex :( and only
school yard violence and bad language.

DISCLAIMER: The Mulder family is the property of Chris Carter and Ten
Thirteen productions. These characters have been used without
permission.

In the unlikely event that Justin should read this story and recognise
himself, I extend deepest apologies. I really do think you and Fox
would have got on as kids, though.

My thanks also go to Mike Gray for his completely revolting article
(with ewwwwww picture) on page 8 of the Spring 1995 edition of NATURE
AUSTRALIA. Dead or alive, hunties are utterly revolting!

This story is copyright Amanda le Bas de Plumetot
 

FATE LINE 2/2

Justin and Fox sat in the corner of the playground eating their
lunches and staring at the traffic. Justin looked about him and then,
between bites of his Vegemite sandwich, he said; "Hey Vermin, what do
you think of the Easter Bunny."

Fox tried to be cool, choking down his peanut butter and jam. He'd
sussed out all this Easter Bunny and Santa Claus stuff years ago, but
Sam still believed, and he was under orders, on pain of death (and no
Christmas presents or Easter Eggs) not to give the game away. He had
sufficient sensibilities not to do that to Jusin, either...if the
other boy still believed too.

"Er...what do you mean?"

"Well, your mum and dad bring the Easter Eggs and hide them, right?"

"Right," said Fox with relief.

"Yeah, Simon told me that. Well, it's got nothing to do with Jesus on
the cross."

"Nope. I don't think he was hanging there eating chocolate eggs."

"So where does this bunny thing and the chocolate eggs come from?"

"Oh, that," Fox tosssed his crusts onto the ground and watched as the
sparrows came to pick at them, "Well, it's all about t his
goddess. She was the goddess of the east, that's why it's called
Easter. And she had a pet rabbit."

"Hare," corrected Justin, "It was a pet hare."

"Okay. So what about it?"

"Would you like to see her?"

Fox shrugged, "Have you got a picture in a book or something?"

"No," Justin's eyes were shining, "I mean *really* see her?"

Fox was intrigued, "How?"

"Well, you know Scotchman's Creek?"

Fox nodded. He knew it well. Justin and he had ridden their bikes to
the littered shores of Scotchy's creek where he had been educated in
the noble art of yabbying. Catching small freshwater crayfish in nets
made from Justin's mother's old pantyhose and baited with bits of
meat.

"Well, he reckons if you go down to the creek on the night of the
Easter full moon, you *see* her. First the air fills with a mysterious
mist, and then all these thousands of rabbits appear and start
drumming the ground with their feet, and then the goddess comes. She
gives each rabbit a solid gold egg."

"And this is really true?"

Justin nodded, "I know someone who saw it."

"Who?"

"It was Simon's best friend's cousin's next door neighbour. He
*really* saw it."

"I'd like to see that for myself," said Fox quietly.

"So would I," agreed Justin.

They stared in silence at the passing traffic for a little while, "You
know," said Fox eventually, "They do this in books and on tv shows all
the time, it's like I tell my mom I'm going to spend the night at your
place, and you tell your mom you're going to spend the night at my
place..."

"And we both go somewhere else..."

They began to plan. They would each take a sleeping bag and a torch
and pocket money. They would buy fish and chips for dinner and hot
cross buns for breakfast and ride to the creek on their bikes. This
was going to be a major adventure. The Easter full moon was on the
Thursday, the day before Good Friday, so they would set off
immediately after school. This made things a whole lot easier for Fox,
since his mother did her shopping on a Thursday afternoon, and usually
didn't get home till after he and Sam did after school.

The days leading up to Easter were profoundly exciting for Fox. He
agreed wholeheartedly with Sam's babble about the Easter bunny, though
it was not the thought of chocolate eggs that filled his thoughts. On
the Thursday morning he was first up. He went out to collect the milk,
Pumpkin dashed past him out the door and pounced on his ankles as he
collected the two pints of milk and the morning paper, but the little
cat did not return to the house with him.

Pumpkin's death was not heralded by a dramatic screech of brakes or
even an embarrassed driver at the door admitting guilt. When the
children went out with their mother, ready to kiss them goodbye on
their way to school, Pumpkin was dead on the nature strip, a little
trickle of blood still damp on his face. The kitten had dashed onto
the road, chasing butterflies or shadows and been sideswiped by some
commuting motorist who hadn't seen him or didn't care. Fox was
upset. Samantha was devastated. Samantha stayed home from school, Fox
walked doggedly on, knuckling tears from his eyes all the way.

Justin commiserated on the death of the little cat. He'd spent happy
hours teasing Pumpkin with bits of wool dragged across the floor for
the cat to ambush, or sitting on the sofa with the cat on his knee
while he and Fox watched cartoons. But even death was not going to get
in the way of the adventure they had planned.  They were going to meet
at half past four at the little shops. Between them they had nearly
four dollars in pocket money. It was going to be a really great night.

As Fox had hoped, his mother was out shopping when he got
home. Samantha was there though, staring morosely at the tv screen,
her Barbie doll in her lap. Fox went about getting himself ready for
the adventure, he collected his sleeping bag and found a torch. He was
a bit worried that the batteries in the torch might go flat on him, so
he found a couple of extras which he slipped into his pocket. He
stuffed his pocket money into his other pocket, and, searching behind
the sofa cushions, found another twenty eight cents.  Sam watched him.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to Justin's for the night," he lied happily.

She nodded, taking in all the preparations, "I wish I could go home,"
she said finally.

"Sam," he laughed, "You dummy. You *are* home. I've gotta go now, see
ya later."

Fox and Justin congratulated each other heartily. They had got out of
their houses. The first part of their plan had worked perfectly. They
went into the bakery and bought hot cross buns for breakfast, and then
to the fish and chip shop. Mr Silvagni grinned and chatted to the
boys. Justin was an old friend, a regular customer. Occasionally he
brought Fox in to the fish and chip shop for an after school snack.

"Hallo Justin, you bring your American friend?"

The boys grinned back and made their order.

"Big snack, boys. You not going to spoil your dinner eat too much dim
sim and chippies?"

"This *is* our dinner."

"Oh. Early dinner tonight. You planning to go to bed soon, get up
really early for the chocolate eggs for breakfast? Or maybe you go to
the Church for morning mass, huh? Six a.m." there was something about
the expression on Mr Silvagni's face that made it perfectly clear that
he knew exactly what they were planning.

"Oh, we're just having a sleepover," said Justin as he handed over
payment and accepted the warm newspaper package. He was quite pleased
with himself for having avoided the absolute truth while not exactly
telling a lie.  Fox paid for the rest of the meal; two cans of coke,
and then they took to their bikes.

The ride to the creek was uneventful, and they spent a little time
wondering exactly where they should camp the night. Eventually they
found a spot not far from where they fished for yabbies. It was
slightly less littered with cans and bottles and there was a little
grassy patch where they could spread out their sleeping bags. The sun
was almost on the horizon as they sat on their sleeping bags and
spread out the sumptuous repast of *double* chips, eight dim sims and
four potato cakes. It was more than they could possibly eat, but they
didn't care. They opened their drinks and toasted their
adventure. Justin was careful to keep the two ringpulls off the drink
cans. Simon was collecting them, he had an ambition to make the
world's longest chain of ring pulls, and he had *everyone* collecting
them.

The boys ate their meal and watched avidly for any sign of the
supernatural. The air grew chill about them and they cursed their lack
of foresight. It had been a warm day and neither of them had thought
to bring a jumper. They pulled their sleeping bags around their
shoulders. The sun was setting. A light mist began to lift from the
creek. Fox shivered in anticipation. He saw movement on the far bank
and nudged Justin, a rabbit had appeared, seemingly from nowhere, andd
was nibbling at the grass by the now misty bank. The two boys could
feel their hearts thudding in their chests. This was really going to
come true.

"You pair of mugs!"

The two boys swung around in shock. Simon was standing behind them,
glaring down at them.

"Just what the bloody hell do you think you're up to, pulling a stupid
stunt like this? Justin Mum is absolutely worried sick, and Fox, your
mother has called the police."

Fox  felt his jaw drop and his eyes bug out. The police???

"Your little sister has gone missing, and when your Mum rang our place
to get you to come home...well, let's just say the shit really hit the
fan.  Now GIT home this instant the both of you!"

Fox stuffed his sleeping bag back into its sack and rode home like the
wind. There was a police car parked out the front of the house. A
police woman sat beside his mother, quietly talking to her. A police
man stood leaning against the kitchen wall. Fox walked through the
door, a sheepish look on his face. His mother hugged and berated
him. There was an expression on his father's face that clearly said *I
will deal with you later, boy*.

"Where've you been young feller?" said the policeman. He was
authoritative though not quite pompous or threatening.

"I was with Justin."

"Yeah, but you weren't at his house like you told your mum you would
be.  You told a lie and so did your friend. Set up a little scheme."

"We were down at Scotchy's creek."

"What about Sam? Did your sister go with you?"

He shook his head, "It was just me and Justin."

"You sure? Because you know she's disappeared. Run off. You sure she
didn't follow you or anything?"

Fox shook his head.

"You boys talk to anyone?"

"Only the man at the fish and chip shop."

The policeman nodded, directing himself at Fox's father, "Yeah, we
talked to him. There was no sign of Sam, but he remembered the two
boys buying enough to feed a small army," he grinned and shot Fox a
wink, "No point camping out on an empty stomach, ay? Now tell me Fox,
was Sam still home when you got home from School?"

Fox nodded, yes.

"And did  she say anything about running away."

"Well, she was still really sad about Pumpkin..."

"Pumpkin? What's that?"

Fox was surprised that his parents hadn't mentioned the cat, "Pumpkin
was her kitten. He got run over by a car this morning. Sam really
loved him...well, we all did, but Sam especially, but he got run over
and that's why she didn't go to school today."

The policeman stared curiously at Fox's mother, "You didn't tell me
any of this," he said, "You told me she'd stayed home from school
because she wasn't feeling well."

Fox's mother shrugged, "I didn't think it was  that important."

"And did she say anthing to you when you got home from school, Fox?"

"Well, only one thing, and I thought it was really strange. She said
she wanted to go home."

"Home," said the policewoman, "Did Samantha have any pets left behind
in America?"

Fox's mother nodded slowly and the expression on the policewoman's
face was the look of triumph at having found they key piece of a
puzzle. At that moment the phone rang. The policeman answered it, the
expression on his face lightening as he listened, and he gave a
thumbs-up sign to his partner.

"Thanks D-24," he hung up the phone, "Your daughter had somehow
managed to get herself halfway back to Tullamarine airport," he said,
"A motorist had the good sense to wonder what in hell a seven year old
was doing wandering along the emergency stopping lane of the freeway
and he used the emergency phone to ring police. She'll be home soon."

Samantha wanted to go home. To America. Nothing was going to stop her.
Long after the two children had been put to bed Fox heard the raging
of his parents' argument. His father's hissing anger punctuated by his
mother's quiet but irresistible demands. He couldn't hear the words,
only feel the seething tides of emotion as point after point was
hammered home in quiet determination. He dozed through the argument,
and his head was filled with guilt feelings. He could have made sure
Pumpkin came back in with him when he had gone to collect the milk. He
shouldn't have lied about going with Justin. He should have stayed
home with Samantha. When he got up the next morning his mother had
already begun to pack and Fox had a feeling that he had somehow been
the cause, not just of the immediate upheaval, but of something
deeper, something that fell across the day's news that they would
return to America like the dark shadow of a foreboding.

The return home took even less time than going to Australia. They were
packed by the end of the Easter holiday and had tickets for a plane
that left on the Saturday after school went back. Their house was full
of boxes and cigarette haze. Their father had taken up smoking
again. Fox supposed it was due to the stress of Sam running away, but
he wondered if there was something more. There seemed to be a terrible
anger with their mother and Samantha about going back home, but both
of the women were steadfast, Samantha in her need to be in familiar
surroundings, her mother in her need to protect the daughter.

Fox turned up for his last week of school, dismayed to find that
Justin was not there. He had been grounded during the holidays,
forbidden from seeing or even talking to Justin on the phone. Now his
friend hadn't turned up to the first day back at school. Fox hoped he
wasn't sick. He planted himself on the seat next to Sue (otherwise
known as "Toad"), and squirmed around, looking hopefully at Justin's
seat.

"Justin's not coming to school," said Sue.

Fox was more surprised than anything, this was the first time she'd
talked to him, "Huh?"

"He's not coming today. Probably not for weeks and weeks."

"How come? How do you know?"

"His dad died. The whole family went away."

Fox was alarmed, though he suspected Sue might have been lying. At
playtime when the teacher called him to stay behind and gave him the
same information, he was devastated. Justin's dad, tall as the sky and
always cheerful, was dead. He had died suddenly and unexpectedly, of a
heart attack. Justin's dad who was one of those big, jokey kind of
dads who could always make you laugh, was gone and Justin had to live
the rest of his life with no dad. The final week of school had no
particular meaning for Fox.  He never saw Justin again. He didn't ask
the teacher where Justin had gone to, or when he would return, and it
never occurred to him to write.

The drone of the engines had a kind of anaesthetic effect on Fox and
the plane lifted him high and away from all the possibilities of
"might have beens" to a whole new set of potentials. Sam dozed beside
him, a small toy cat that had been bought in the week following
Pumpkin's death clutched tight in her arms. Their parents sat in the
seats behind them. The kids were in non-smoking seats, his dad had
insisted on a smoking seat. Still, Fox felt the presence of his
parents there, just in back of him. He was surrounded by his family
and Justin would never again have that. His father sat hazed in a
cloud of smoke and gloom. His mother, indomitable, stared ahead. She
had done all she knew, calling upon her husband to make this sacrifice
to the needs of the family. She was certain she could keep the family
safe by sheer force of will.

Fox heard his mother whisper something and then a grunt from his
father, "Just don't blame me," said his father, "I did my best. I
refuse to be held responsible for whatever happens."

It seemed a strange thing to say. The plane droned on and they were
fed and chatted to by the hostesses. Fox fell asleep sometime during
the movie.  He really wasn't a big "Love Bug" fan. When he woke again
the cabin lights had been dimmed and someone had put a blanket over
him.. It was still all about him, everyone seemed to be asleep. He
stared at the night sky through the little double glazed perspex
window beside him. The Milky Way blazed bright, ten billion radiant
pinpricks cast casually across the heavens.  He was all alone with
just the night sky and for a moment, though they were separated by
light years it seemed to him that he could feel the distant heat of
stars.