SHIFTED.✔

39

I woke groggy and tired at eight thirty the next day. I stumbled into the kitchen and found a note from my father telling me mum was at work and he had been called in. They wouldn't be home until six o'clock. This was a common occurrence. I screwed up the note and threw it into the bin. Fifteen minutes later I was eating my toast and sipping a hot cup of tea when there was a knock at the door. I frowned, wondering who it might be. I remembered Mrs Marsden from across the road was bringing over the weeks newspapers so I could take them to school for recycling. With toast in one hand and tea in the other I went to the door. I stuck the toast in my mouth to free up a hand so I could turn the knob.

Keean Crone was leaning on the porch rail with his arms crossed in front of him looking at his feet. A surge of anger rushed through me. What did he think he was playing at? I grabbed the toast out of my mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

He frowned, cocked his head to one side and smiled at me with his eyes. I realised this was something he did often. It put me off guard. I stood angry faced waiting for him to answer. I hadn't thought about what I was wearing but the movement of his eyes from my face and down to my body reminded me. It wasn't my best nightie. A little too big so the lace shoulder straps tended to take alternate turns at falling down. It was made of satin so clung to my body here and there and had a tear on the hip. I quickly wrapped my arms around myself spilling tea on the floor and smearing jam on my arm. I held my breath in anger and repeated myself through clenched teeth.

"What do you want?"

Keean crinkled up his forehead. I'm sure it was because of my tone. "I want to take you to Frances Creek."

This confused me. I knew of Frances Creek but hadn't been there and didn't know anything about it. "Why do you want to take me there?" I asked warily.

Keean smiled again. I watched a flicker of thought reach his eyes. "It's where I live." His voice was like chocolate when you drink it with hot coffee and it runs down the back of your throat. "I want to show you Frances Creek," he added in a hushed tone.

I couldn't believe myself. I just stood there and nodded but I didn't move. He tittered and looked at me curiously.

"You're one strange girl."

I frowned not understanding the statement.

"Are you coming dressed like that?" He raised his eyebrows, tilted his head again and grinned.

"Oh right," I said and quickly went inside. I put my tea and now cold toast on the kitchen bench and rushed to my room to get changed. What to wear? I couldn't decide so I went and scrubbed my teeth, hurried to the toilet and back to my room. We were going to a creek so swimmers...no...sundress...maybe. I had a pink cheesecloth sundress that didn't hug my body too much. He'd said he liked me in the dress yesterday. I decided to give the dress a miss and put on shorts and a singlet. I grabbed a light jumper just in case it was windy, put my sandals on and had to slow my step as I went to the door once more.

Keean had gone down the stairs and was leaning against his old Toyota tray back four-wheel drive. He pushed himself away from it with his elbows when he saw me coming. By the time I reached the vehicle he had opened my door. I smiled shyly. He grinned back at me.

It was the strangest drive I'd ever had because we didn't speak to each other. I guess this should have made me feel nervous but the butterflies in my stomach seemed to dull any other sensation that might have been happening. I tried to think why he had come to take me to Frances Creek. We had been driving for a good forty minutes when we rounded a bend. There was a long strip of sand which ran on and curved until it reached rocks and cliffs. Houses were scattered here and there. Not on top of each other, clamouring for space, along the shore like I'd seen at other beach towns.

"Is this Frances Creek?"

Keean nodded.

"But it's a beach."

He glanced at me and nodded again. He drove me across a one-lane bridge which spanned a small freshwater Creek. He chuckled. "That's Frances Creek." We passed some houses which were quite small and looked a lot like each other. Some sort of holiday homes I thought.

"So which is your house?" I asked to break the silence. He tilted his head forward.

"It's at the far end. We'll be there soon." Keean looked nervous, an emotion he didn't display often. He always seemed sure of himself, intense and quiet.

"Okay," I said and looked out the window at the beach as we drove by.

"I'll take you there later if you like. I want to show you where I live first."

I turned my head toward him as he spoke and studied his face. He was watching the road. I thought how easy it had been for him to get me to come with him. So much for my anger with him. I was so pathetic. Katie would never have come with him. 'No that's not true', I thought, she would have.

Keean pulled up in a bitumen car park. There was a compound in front of us surrounded by a high fence that had three rows of barbwire on top of it. I frowned and looked at him curiously. He turned off the engine, slunk down in the seat and drew one leg up so it rested on the hump in the middle of the truck. He crossed one arm over his chest and rested his head against the window. His body language confused me. He looked at me nervously and pointed to a sign on the fence with his hand. I concentrated on reading it and knew he was watching me.

The sign didn't seem to make sense so I read it again.

'Frances Creek Juvenile Detention Centre.'

'Minimum Security.'

'Queensland Department of Correctional Centres.'

Opened 1976.

My first thought was this is why the houses all looked similar. They were staff quarters.

My second thought was this is why there were no high rises because no one would want to live near a prison.

I was really confused. He said he lived here. So his father must be one of the guards.

I turned towards him.

"Why did you bring me here," I whispered.

He focused hard on my face as if undecided whether he should answer me or not, then said, "I wanted to show you where I live."

"This is a detention centre?"

Keean nodded. He looked at me carefully then he sat up straight with determination and said, "I wanted to show you what I am."

"I don't understand. Is your father a guard here?"

Keean looked at me and smiled uncertainly. "I was hoping you might work it out for yourself." He cocked his head toward the compound. "I live here."

The truth hit me. It knocked the air from my lungs. I gulped loudly to refill them. "But you can't...you're clever. You never do anything wrong...you're what everyone wants to be...you're perfect." I could see intense pain in his eyes.

He looked away from me and at the buildings in front of us. "But I'm not," he whispered.

Copyright © 2017 by Donna Fieldhouse. All rights reserved.

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