The Anatomy of Wings Read Online Free

combs through her long blond hair.
    When I asked her how long till we got there she said soon.
    And then the landscape started to change.
    The long straight road to nowhere started to bend. Hills sprang up with mangy coats of spinifex and yellow grass. They were speckled by trees with wild lady hair. Sheer rock faces, almost pink, almost orange. We hit a cattle grid and the road became pavement. A little unmanned ticket box stood beside an open boom gate. We rounded the last corner and there the blue water lay, the white dam wall shining in the sun.
    The last time we'd been to the lake our mother had been with us. We had been smaller; she hadn't letus wander around by ourselves. She said stay where I can see you, so many children have drowned in this lake, the weeds hold on to their legs and drag them down. They are never seen again. This is what happens to little children, she said.
    But Dad gave Beth a five-dollar note.
    “Go and buy yourselves some ice cream or something,” he said.
    It was very hot, even beside the water, which was too bright after the desert. Stars danced on its surface. We had to walk with our eyes half closed. There were canoes out on the water and people everywhere cooking barbecues and there were pelicans wandering between the tables. The sunlight flared around their open wings. The hot grass crackled beneath our feet.
    “I'm going to swim for hours,” said Beth.
    Then we had a normal conversation about lollies: candy cigarettes, cobbers, musk sticks, Milkos, and Redskins.
    If we had known everything would change we would have turned back. But we didn't know. That's how things happen. Especially sunny days hide dark moments in their pockets.
    At the kiosk counter Beth had the five-dollar note in her outstretched hand. I thought it was weird the way she was holding it, as though it was a golden cup or a flame.
    “Come on, love,” said the kiosk lady, “we haven't got all day.”
    Beth was going to speak; her mouth opened. Her pupils expanded inside her blue eyes. She fell backward, gracefully, perfectly straight, the way a tree falls. Her head hit the ground with a thud. Her mouth made a clunking noise like Nanna's false teeth. She expelled a small noise. It could have been a no. Her eyes rolled back into her head.
    The kiosk lady didn't open the kiosk door but jumped straight over the counter. She bent down beside Beth and then called out for help so loudly that I had to cover my ears. People looked up from their picnic tables and came running from the shore. Danielle shook Beth's shoulder but she wouldn't wake up.
    “Find Dad,” she shouted at me.
    While I ran I mostly thought about what would happen if Beth died, for instance that Mum would get a shock, especially since her main concern was the state of our sandwiches. And at the back of my mind was Beth's face as it looked after she hit the grass and her eyes had closed: luminous.
    “Beth's fallen down and she won't wake up,” I said when I finally found Dad untangling a fishing line beside the wall. I wiped the snot from my nose with the back of my hand.
    A large crowd had gathered. We had to push our way through the damp bodies that smelled of thelake and suntan lotion. Beth had opened her eyes but she seemed dazed; she kept looking past all the faces bent over her toward the sky. Her lips moved. A very faint smile crossed her mouth. The crowd was very quiet. Other than for the craning of necks, no one moved. Someone brought lemonade. Dad lifted Beth's head and Danielle put the tin against her lips. Some of the sparkling liquid rolled down her chin.
    “What is she saying?” said the kiosk lady.
    “Shush,” said Dad.
    He bent his head closer, bringing his ear to her lips, but she stopped her whispering then and woke up. Her eyes found Dad's face and recognized him. When she saw she was on the ground she started to cry.
    The crowd shivered and moved backward in a single motion. Dad picked Beth up. He lifted his arm to move the crowd