“Can I have a dog?” Rainbow asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
“Can I have a pony?”
“If you muck out its stall.”
“Can I have a pool?”
“No. You can swim in the creek or over at Grandad’s.”
“Maude said violence is a disease. That some people are born with it.”
Ronnie’s hands tightened on the wheel. “That’s a depressing thought.”
“Do I have it?”
She shook her head. “No, baby. You don’t have it.”
“Uncle Mattie hits people.”
“He’s a rugger.”
“Women aren’t supposed to be like that.”
“No one is supposed to be like that.”
“Boys are allowed to hit people.”
“Not legally, but you’re right that there’s a double standard.”
Gum trees and jacarandas flew by the passenger-side window.
“Were you scared?”
She hesitated. “When?”
“In juvie?”
“No. You were my whole world.”
“I don’t want to be your whole world.”
“I’m your mum.”
Rainbow glared.
“You’re done talking about this,” Ronnie guessed.
If Rainbow ever ended up in that place Ronnie didn’t know what she would do. She could handle it happening to her, but she couldn’t handle it happening to Rainbow.
On the Gillies Range Road she let her hair down, working knuckles through tangles and knots.
“Nev coming to the party?” Rainbow asked.
“She’s bringing Gunni.” Their third bandmate often rode with Nev.
On Pademelon Road, the trees dripped with fruit bats. A hundred flying foxes as big as Chihuahuas hung upside down from the branches, flapping translucent wings backlit by the sun, touching each other with fingerlike claws.
