Salt River Road by Molly Schmidt

Author:Molly Schmidt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fremantle Press
Published: 2023-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Next English class, Mrs Parsons tells us Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein to deal with her childhood traumas. She says we are ‘holding a mirror to ourselves’ to see ‘what’s behind the monsters we write’. People are talking about vampires and werewolves, hooded figures and zombies. I sharpen my pencils and line them up along my desk. When Mrs Parsons looks at me, I push myself to standing and walk away.

If she calls me back, I don’t hear it.

I swing into a toilet cubicle, latching the door behind me. I’ve read some of the graffiti on the back of the door, considered adding to it, when someone goes into the cubicle next to me.

‘Rose,’ says Jenna.

‘Yep?’

‘Stupid bitch has no idea, has she?’

‘Nope.’

‘Let’s go sit on the water tank.’

Jenna’s brought cigarettes—stole them last time she went shopping with her mum. The stakes would have been high and I know it. She’s put a daisy inside the box, trying so hard to help, and here’s me thinking she’s a bad friend.

We smoke half of them, one after another, lying on our backs looking at the clouds. We don’t say much, but I appreciate that she’s there beside me, resting her legs on mine. Jenna likes English class. I guess Mrs Parsons has given up on us. She must be confused; Jenna and I normally get along quite well with the old chook. At the end of the period she comes out and stands at the bottom of the water tank.

‘You’ll want to come down now,’ she says in a quiet voice that is anything but gentle.

We do.

She puts her hand out for the cigarettes. ‘Shame,’ she says.

We get a week of lunchtime detention, Jenna writing an essay on Mary Shelley, me cleaning windows. At least they’ve given up on trying to make me write. I know Jenna is putting a brave face on for me, but the only thing I care about is that she’s in trouble too. This isn’t her mess.

Jenna’s mum picks us up, along with Alby. We could have caught the bus home, but she wants to talk to me.

‘It’s not the way to go about this, Rose,’ she says, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘Things are hard enough for you already, without winding up in trouble at school.’

‘Mum,’ Jenna says, ‘how exactly do you think you’d go about it?’

‘What are we talking about?’ I say.

‘That’s enough from both of you.’

‘For the record, the cigarettes were mine,’ Jenna adds defiantly.

‘Can I have a cigarette?’ asks Alby.

Mrs Betts turns the radio on.

When we get to my place, Mrs Betts turns around in her seat. ‘I won’t tell your father this time, Rose,’ she says. ‘But no more allowances.’

I guess you only get one get-out-of-jail-free card when your mum dies. She’s sounding mean, but I remind myself of all the times Mrs Betts has had me over, fed me, tucked me in beside Jen. She’s never once questioned me, all the times I’ve shown up at their house, hungry and sad.

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