Wyld Times, Episode 66 – unaired footage, Boat Cam, 4:37pm
Kylie is dancing on the deck of the Easy Catch. She's alone, blasting a tune from the boat's stereo system, a popstar singing about fireworks. Her movements are ungainly but joyful; she's a typical eleven year old, on the cusp of becoming a teenager who will soon worry about what everyone thinks, but for now, she's unabashed in her dancing. Her slender arms wave around her head, her eyes closed, her legs high-kicking into the blue of the southern skies that surround the boat.
As the song reaches a crescendo, she spins wildly, her dark hair splaying out like a fan. She loses her balance – and crashes into the racks where the scuba gear is stored. Tanks and tubes tumble to the deck as the racks topple over. Kylie squeaks in panic, attempting to stop the fall of so many items, but they rain down around her. She steps on something that makes a cracking sound; her shoulders flinch and she glances about to see if anyone has noticed.
No one appears. Kylie appears to relax slightly, then works swiftly to put all the gear back into place. Each member of the crew has their own rack; she hangs equipment haphazardly, muttering, "I think this is Shelly's... or maybe Parker's?"
She lifts a regulator; the mouthpiece dangles off the hose at an unnatural angle. She jams it back on, then nods; it seems to be fixed.
There's a noise from behind camera: voices and footsteps. Kylie looks terrified. On tiptoes, she tosses the regulator over a hook and scampers away.
As two crew members enter the frame, the hose of the regulator swings slightly, and the name tag of the gear's owner is exposed:
Bruce Wyld
Once, when Bruce and I were first married, I lost Kylie. Bruce had taken off, scouting locations for our upcoming filming, leaving me to care for Kylie for almost a month. I'd been thrust into parenthood too fast; I still felt like a kid myself and I was freaking out about being solely responsible for the life of this small human.
We'd muddled through together. I'd learned how to make crustless Vegemite sandwiches for school lunches after getting thoroughly roasted by the teacher for sending Kylie in with nefarious and anaphylaxis-inducing peanut butter. Thanks to Google, I'd managed to master a few basic recipes so we weren't eating takeout every night of the week – and I had only caused one small kitchen fire. When I realised that Kylie had grown too big for almost everything she owned (because it hadn't occurred to Bruce that kids change size), I took her shopping and purchased her a whole new wardrobe.
And all of that was pretty easy. Logistics, I could do. I had just finished studying project management, so I treated 'Project Kylie' like a new piece of work: divide everything up into manageable tasks, assign weighting and deadlines, highlight milestones.
I struggled more with the esoteric aspects of the role. What was I supposed to say when Kylie asked what the box of condoms beside our bed was? How could I comfort her when she woke up screaming at night, crying out for her mother? And what authority did I have to enforce rules? I wasn't her parent or her guardian – I'd only been around for a few weeks. So, when I tried to get her to put her washing in a hamper or asked her to actually use soap when she showered and she flat out refused, I was flummoxed.
"You can't tell me what to do!" she'd scream, her small face red with indignation. "You're not my mum! You're not even my sister!"
"I know I'm not," I'd say, trying to stay calm. "But, Kylie – we have to live together. Right now, that makes us family, and family means helping out."
Our battles grew more fierce until I finally cracked it. I told her in no uncertain terms that when she finished school for the day, we were cleaning her room together – or no dessert. I spent the day between irritation and despair; only a few months ago, I'd been frantically cramming for exams and interviewing for intern programs. Now, my greatest challenge was getting an eight year old to do her homework and change the toilet roll. I missed my friends back in Sydney, missed using my brain, missed my old life.
I walked to the school to pick Kylie up, waiting by the gate as gaggles of kids poured out in their checked uniforms. No Kylie. I had the office page her, checked her classroom, the library, the gym: nothing.
Dread had begun to wick up my legs and into my torso. I've lost her! I called her school friends, rang Parker to see if she had gone to his place – still no luck. I phoned Bruce repeatedly but he didn't answer; each of my calls rang out, and eventually went straight to voicemail. The police said they'd send a car, but it would be a few hours. Tears flowed freely from my eyes but I didn't have time to stop and cry. I had to think.
I concentrated on what I knew about Kylie. She would be on foot. She wasn't likely to go somewhere random; she'd choose somewhere she knew. Because her life had been turned upside down, she'd want to go somewhere familiar, where she'd feel safe. I think I know. I started to sprint, flying down side streets, headed for the one place that made sense.
Her old house. She'd once pointed out the block of rundown units she used to live in with her mum and Bruce, across the road from a dilapidated park with a single set of rusty swings. It was my best guess, but as I turned the corner, the dread had crept higher, crawling around my chest and throat, threatening to choke me. Because if she wasn't there, then she was truly lost – and it would all be my fault.
Thankfully, she was there, sitting on the metal swing, her face swollen and red with tears. All the dread dropped away in an instant, and we hugged and cried together, breaking through the angst and finding our way into a new kind of relationship, one where I wasn't her mum or her sister or her friend, but played a special role that couldn't be defined by the normal familial categories.
That dread is something I'd never wanted to experience again. For months and years afterward, I would awaken in the night, calling Kylie's name, my subconscious mind convinced that she was missing and in danger. I might not have been her mother, but I cared for her as much as if she'd come from my own body, as if she was part of my heart sprung to life and walking about recklessly in the world. That dread never really leaves once you love a child; it only hides, waiting for its next opportunity to break loose and infect your soul.
This time, Kylie is missing again, and the dark dread instantly seeps into my bones and causes my limbs to shake. "She's hung up," I say redundantly to Parker before hitting redial, crying out in frustration as the call goes to voicemail.
"Mish, we have to find her," says Parker. His freckled face has gone pallid, and his eyes are wide with naked fear. "If she's watched those tapes, if she believes she's responsible-"
"Parker, I know – but we can figure this out." We're in Kylie's office, but her laptop is missing. I speak my thought process out loud. "Okay, she can't have gone home, because the files are on the share drive, so she can only access them here at the park. The wifi sucks on the east side of the park, so that leaves the router down at the seal end."
"Maybe she's gone to the break room near the dolphin pools?" says Parker.
"We can check, but I doubt it. The volunteers use that area after hours – she'll want to be somewhere private." I close my eyes and rub my head, as if a scalp massage will stimulate better thinking. "Somewhere she can sit, somewhere that feels safe..."
When was the last time I saw Kylie happy? Not since Simeon left; she'd been almost deliriously cheerful when the two of them were working on the videos for the Doris release project-
"I think I know," I say, grabbing Parker's hand. "Let's go!"
We run to my golf buggy and crank it to top speed – which doesn't feel fast enough but is still quicker than going on foot. Outside, the evening has set in, darkness casting creepy shadows across the empty paths as we whip past exhibits and closed food stalls. "Come on..." I urge the buggy to move faster, careening around corners as quick as I dare. The dread has gripped my entire body now, with every horrifying scenario possible playing simultaneously inside my mind. This is my fault; if I'd warned Parker earlier, if I'd just been honest with everyone from the start, if I'd walked away from Bruce that first night-
"We're here," says Parker as I screech the buggy to a halt outside the work shed. We scramble out and push through the doors.
Inside the shed, Kylie's laptop sits on the workbench. The footage is paused, showing a still of a young Kylie holding a broken regulator mouthpiece on the deck of the Easy Catch. "Oh no..."
"Kylie?" Parker yells. There's no answer; the shed is empty.
Too empty... "Parker – the net is missing." The netted sling that Briggs has been complaining about for weeks isn't splayed out in its usual place on the concrete floor.
We glance at each other, eyes wide as the realisation dawns on us. "Doris!"
As we race for the seal pools, Parker pants, "Why would she trial the sling now?"
"Because she thinks she's to blame for Bruce." I understand Kylie completely; it's so clear to me, that instinct to do something good to make up for everything bad you've done, positive action to replace the grief of the actions you can't take back.
The lights are on over the seal pools. I take the steps two at a time, hurtling down towards Doris' enclosure, slamming up against the railing and frantically scanning the scene below.
Kylie stands alone in the seal pen, holding the controller for the crank mechanism. In front of her, the massive leopard seal is curled on the slack net in a dangerous coil, a precursor to attack, her icicle-like teeth bared in savage aggression.
"Kylie!" shouts Parker, slamming up against the barrier beside me. "Get out of there!"
She ignores us, slamming her hand down on the controller. The crank bursts into life, swiftly drawing up the four corners of the sling. The seal roars, thrashing wildly. We hold our breath as the netting bows under her weight, the chains clanking as Doris heaves her enormous body back and forth in an attempt to escape.
For a moment, it holds. Then...
Snap! One of the corners pops free, the netting falling loose. Doris bellows, an inhuman sound of triumph and fury as she wriggles her snake-like body towards freedom.
"No." Kylie's face constricts in horror. Her terror-filled eyes shoot up to meet mine. We both know what the seal is capable of, that there are only seconds before Doris launches herself at Kylie. The gate is on the other side of the enclosure; her only chance is to make a run for it.
"Kylie, get out of there!" Parker screams.
She pivots, sprinting towards the pool edge, the quickest route to the exit. Doris is now halfway free, but leopard seals aren't as fast on land; as long as Kylie moves quickly, she'll make it.
As we watch, Kylie's feet skid on the slick fibreglass of the pool's edge. She shrieks, her arms pinwheeling as she tries to regain her footing, but momentum works against her and she slides over the edge and into the pool below. The surface of the water is several feet lower than the edge; I can instantly see that Kylie won't be able to climb out on her own. She is trapped, a floating target for the enraged Doris.
"Kylie!" I don't think, I don't hesitate. With my fingers clamped on the railing, I launch myself up and over the barrier, letting myself dangle over the enclosure. Then, I drop, landing heavily on the ground, falling onto my backside. "Parker," I yell as I leap to my feet, "Go down the stairs and get on the gate!"
"What are you going to do?"
"I have no idea," I say, mostly to myself. In front of me, Doris has pulled free from the net while Kylie is mere meters away from her snarling teeth, struggling to swim for the ladder on the far side of the pool.
She'll never make it. Kylie is about to be killed or brutally maimed. I'm not going to stand by and watch it happen. "Hey!" I yell, walking towards Doris. "Over here!"
Her alien head swings my way, her dark eyes narrowed into slits. She observes me briefly, then focuses back on Kylie, the easier target in the water. With a flick of her powerful body, she glides towards the edge.
No! Goddamn it all - this place, my powerlessness, the constant unending smell of squid that surrounds me like a swarm of invisible flies, even right now, in the midst of a life and death situation... "Wait," I say, reaching behind me, hoping that my salvation is still bouncing around just above my butt.
The fish pouch is still attached to me – and inside, the glorious, gooshy, giant squid.
I wrench it free and wave it frantically. "Hey! Doris! Check it out!"
She teeters on the edge, pausing to eye me briefly. Her pupils widen as they see the squid – the irresistible seal snack with a siren's call. Raw squid is like seal chocolate, champagne and opiates all rolled into one, and I'm betting that this big beauty slapping around wetly in my hands is a greater lure than Kylie, still swimming powerfully towards the ladder.
Doris takes the bait, shifting direction away from the edge and towards me. "That's it... Come on, girl..." I step slowly sideways, drawing her over to the gate leading to the indoor enclosure. "Keep coming..."
Her neck is retracted. I have to time this right; if I wait too long, she'll strike. If I toss the squid too soon, she might lose interest and come after me. I shake the squiddy harder, its tentacles flapping in the air. "Om noms, Doris! You want this?"
She snarls, her breath close enough for me to feel on my skin. I wait for one more beat, until I can see that Kylie is climbing the ladder, until no matter what happens to me, she'll be safe. Then, I wiggle the squid once more and heave it through the gate. "Go get it!"
With a roar, Doris slithers after the squid like an anaconda chasing its prey. As soon as her tail clears the gate, I scream, "Now, Parker!" The gate won't close manually – I can't do anything from here. It's hidden in a recess and can only be triggered from the other side of the wall. I can't see if Parker is there.
But I trust him.
One long pause. Doris pounces on the squid, gulping it down in a single slurp before snapping her neck around and focusing on me. She bellows, a clear war cry, and launches in my direction.
Boom! The gate slides between us and slams shut. Doris gnashes her teeth, crashing against the thick metal mesh, then retreats, defeated.
My legs collapse and I crumple to the ground. The soggy pouch squishes against my lower back, but I've never been so grateful to be coated in squid juice.
"Michelle!" Kylie races towards me, sopping wet. She throws herself on top of me, crying and laughing at the same time. "You saved me! You're a total badass!"
"Just a squiddy-ass," I say, hugging her tightly.
She sobs against my hair. "I'm so sorry – I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt! I just wanted to do something good."
"I know, sweetheart, I know." I rock her against me, as if she was eleven again, a little girl still in need of my protection.
Parker bursts through the staff door to the enclosure. "Mish! Are you two okay?"
He scoops the both of us up in a group hug, and we stand together, holding one another, a tiny broken family, still somehow in one piece.
After a few moments, Kylie's voice speaks, muffled from within our hug. "Hey, Parker? I have two questions."
"Yeah?" he says, wiping his face, his cheeks ruddy with emotion.
Kylie sounds more like her sassy self as she asks, "First – why in the world is that hell-beast called Doris?"
We laugh and Parker answers. "Doris was a beautiful sea-nymph in the ancient Greek legends – her name means bounty."
Kylie rolls her teary eyes. "Of course. Second – are you going to kiss my sister, or what?"
Parker and I shoot glances at each other. "Is that... okay with you?" I say hesitantly.
"Dude, you just saved my life from a homicidal sea witch," says Kylie dismissively but with a smile. "You two can do whatever you want."
Parker reaches for me and I kiss him softly. I've had enough of rough and forceful for one lifetime.
"Gross," says Kylie matter-of-factly. Then her face turns serious. "So... um... I think I'm going to need some therapy or something. Because yeah, I was only a kid, but I broke my brother's regulator and got him killed – and even though he was a pretty awful human, that's like... A lot to work through, you know?"
"Kylie," I say, reaching for her hands, "What did you see on the tapes?"
"I was messing around on the deck. I knocked over the scuba gear." She scrubs at her face angrily. "It was my fault."
"Oh, Kyls..." I swallow hard and look at Parker, who tilts his head. It's my choice if I tell her, but I know he'll support me either way. "I don't know if this is going to make anything better, but I think we've had enough secrets in this family, so you deserve to know."
Kylie's eyes widen quizzically. "Deserve to know what?"
Squeezing her hand, I say gently, "You deserve to know what your brother did before you ever touched the equipment."
We are at the tail end of the story now! I've just about finished the epilogue and will post the final few chapters in the next couple of days. To those who have been following the tale during the writing process, particularly those readers who have commented and voted - I owe you a massive thank you. If you're reading this after the entire story is posted, I'm still glad to have you here, of course! But supporting a writer while they're in the process of writing is so hard and so valuable - you have to let the story live in your head for longer, put up with typos and cliffhangers. You are following the journey as it unfolds, walking next to the writer as they stumble and stagger towards the finish line, whispering words of encouragement and guidance in their ear. If that's you - sincerely, whole-heartedly - thank you. If it wasn't for you, for this unique Wattpad community - I wouldn't still be writing, and my world would be a much less magical place x