Page 77 of Lost In Kakadu

“One night it was stinking hot, and I was trying to pull up my window to let some breeze in. The damn thing always stuck in the heat and of course that’s when I needed it open. Anyway, when I got the window up, I heard some of those dreadful Christmas carollers.”

“What’s wrong with carollers?”

He glanced sidelong at her. “Um, well these ones sounded like crap. But when Grace joined them, it got even worse. She was so funny. She thought she sounded good, but really, it was like she’d sucked on a helium balloon.”

Abigail burst into laughter. She was beautiful. In the firelight her skin had a heavenly glow and her eyes, he swore he could get lost in her eyes.

“Don’t tell me. . .” Abi grinned. “You rescued her.”

“Her?” Mackenzie shook his head. “She wasn’t the one who needed rescuing. Those poor carollers, they didn’t know what to do. But yes, I went downstairs and dragged her away.”

He shifted in his seat. “Grace wanted to go to this church down the road. I’d heard some of my other friends talk about Father Bateman and I guess I was curious. So that’s where we went. The church was in a really weird spot, surrounded by three roads, not very picturesque for a church.” Mackenzie huffed, surprised at the trivial things he remembered.

“Anyway, we went into the church and just as we arrived at the altar this little man in a heavy robe came out. It was the middle of summer, stinking hot, and this guy is in a robe.Grace wrapped her arms around him, and I remember thinking that they hugged for a very long time. It’s funny what you think about after.”

Mackenzie shoved another log onto the fire.

“Father Bateman was really nice. He gave us Christmas cake and hot chocolate, and Grace practically chewed his ear off with her nonstop talking. After a while he said he was tired, and we went home.”

Abi turned to him with one of her looks that said she couldn’t be fooled. “That doesn’t sound like a bad Christmas.”

“No. You’re right. It’s all very normal for a fourteen-year-old.”

“I’m sorry. But I know you haven’t told me everything.”

Beyond the fire, everything was blacked out. Sometimes he wished he could do the same with his past. But when he least expected it, it would always creep to the surface. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin on his hands and sighed, long and loud. Abi placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. After a long pause he fell back into his seat and Abi reached for his hand again.

“It became a nightly ritual. I’d go to the church, stand at the altar, and Father Bateman would appear. I’d eat cake and drink hot chocolate and then I’d go home. I really liked his company. He was a good listener. But I was curious about how he knew I was there. I didn’t knock on any doors or ring any bells or anything, but he’d always appear just as I got to the altar. I remember thinking it was some sort of divine conspiracy.”

Abi chuckled. “Did you ever figure it out?”

“Yep. A sensor. I found it just below the statue of Jesus, halfwayup the aisle. I remember being so chuffed about finding it. Anyway, the next night I went back, but this time I ducked under the sensor. I was standing at the altar, all smug about defeating Father Bateman and that’s when I heard it.”

“What?”

“The sound I’d heard almost every day and night since I’d moved into my shit box apartment. Sex.”

“What?”

“Someone was having sex in the church.”

Abi’s hand went to her chest. “Who?”

“Father Bateman.”

“No.” She fanned her hand at Mackenzie. “It wouldn’t have been him.”

“I saw him, Abi. His robe was pulled up under his armpits as he screwed Grace on the kitchen table.”

“Your Grace?” Her eyes widened.

Mackenzie shrugged. He remembered Grace blowing a bubble with purple chewing gum right when the filthy old priest screamed ‘Oh God’ over and over. The image and those words were forever ingrained in his memory. Witnessing that affected him more than it should have. But after losing his mum and Pete he was angry at yet another betrayal. He’d cried until he was numb. He’d also wished Father Bateman a slow and painful death.

“But I thought you said you didn’t know what happened to Grace.”

“I don’t. I never saw her again.” He looked toward the invisible tree line. “A few nights later, I heard Father Bateman had been stabbed to death.”

Abi gasped, cupping her mouth. “You don’t think she did it, do you? Did you tell anyone?”

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