His mother was always up, with a small breakfast prepared for him. If his father was away driving, she would take him all the way into the city to the pool. 'I don't mind doing it,' she'd say to him. 'This early in the morning there's no traffic, it's a breeze.' When his father was at home, she would drive Danny to the station.
From six to eight a.m. he was in the water with the squad, Torma marching up and down the side of the pool, bellowing instructions and dishing out insults. And, very occasionally, words of praise. In those two hours, the water and Danny as one, he was flying.
As he would fly again after school, when training resumed. That was what was real, the substance and worth of the day; the rest was the in-between, a thicket of wasted time through which he had to struggle. The in-between was school.
It was lunchtime and he was enduring the in-between by playing chess with Luke in the cool dark of the library. Danny's knees were pushed against the table as he rocked on the back legs of the tilted chair, one eye on the librarian sitting behind her desk. She kept looking over at him, her expression sour, suspicious. She didn't think he belonged here, he could tell; she thought he should be out on the ovals, or in the gym, not in her library, not in her space. And it was true: Danny's body jerked and fidgeted, stretched and twisted; his body could not be contained by the hushed space. The library was for kids like Luke, the kids who walked through the day from first bell to last always looking down. Danny never looked down: he made sure that he always looked every single one of them, students and teachers, straight in the eye. The way he was now returning the librarian's glare. The woman knew that he didn't belong there, that his rightful spaces were the ovals and the gym and the change rooms: there with the other boys who never looked down at the ground but who acted as if they owned it. He should have been there with them but they wouldn't allow it; when Danny approached a lunchtime football game or cricket practice, some silent code was always enacted and the other boys stopped their play and walked away. They had to put up with him in the pool, they needed him in the pool, but that was the only place they would tolerate him. Stiff shit if the librarian didn't want him, there was no other place for him to go.
He held his gaze steady, and so did she; the battle was on. He forced a yawn, opening his mouth wide.
The librarian sprang out of her chair and rushed over, her face tight with anger. 'Kelly, you do that again and I'm going to ban you from here.'
'Sorry, sorry, Mrs Arnaud.' He picked up the chair and sat on it properly, wishing he wasn't blushing, wanting to tell her where to go. She walked back to her desk, shaking her head. Bitch, he muttered under his breath, just an expulsion of air, not daring to let the word travel.
Luke had carefully placed the pieces back on the board.
Danny tried to focus on his move. Luke would win, Luke always won, but Danny was trying hard to understand the possibilities of the game. He could see his bishop was in a position to take his opponent's knight, but before he could make that happen his bishop would be taken by one of Luke's pawns. And then? And then? That was what Luke had been trying to teach him over the last fortnight, to think ahead, two, three or even four moves ahead. But if he did and then Luke did something unexpected, his whole game fell apart.
The librarian didn't even bother to whisper. She was on her feet and pointing straight at the library doors. 'Get out, Kelly. You are not allowed back for the rest of the day.'
He banged his chair on the carpet, slammed the chess board onto the desk as he put the pieces away, then slung his bag over his shoulder and marched towards the door.
'Excuse me.' She sounded appalled.
'What?'
Her expression darkened further.
'I mean, what have I done, Mrs Arnaud?'
'I am waiting for your apology.'
She wasn't going to let him go without it. He could refuse to acknowledge her, but then there would be detention, then there would be no swimming. There would be no chance of exhaling, of escaping the in-between.
'I'm sorry for swearing, Mrs Arnaud.'
She sat down without looking at him. He wished that the doors were the kind that could bang shut, but of course they were old-fashioned, expensive, with heavy wooden frames, and a spring attached that did not allow for slamming. He pushed through and was out in the open air.
'If you had moved your bishop in front of your king then I would have had both my queen and a rook in danger. I was so sure you were going to do that.'
Danny turned around, dumbfounded. The freaking chess game, he didn't give a toss about the freaking chess game. But Luke was so serious, so intent on instruction, that Danny had to laugh. He shrugged. 'I'm not as smart as you.'
But I am faster, stronger, I am better.
'It's not necessarily about who is the smartest when it comes to chess, though of course it does require a certain intelligence.' Luke looked across the yard to a group of shouting boys on the football fields. 'Those idiots out there, for example. They'd be hopeless.' He sat down on one of the stone balustrades. 'You're smart but you don't have any patience.'
Danny wanted more than anything to be alone. But he couldn't shake Luke off. The smaller boy had attached himself to Danny; it had happened so quickly that he hadn't had time to think. He wasn't even sure when Luke became visible to him, emerged as a person out of the mass of other boys in his class, in his house. Or maybe it was assumed that they would be friends because they were both half and half. No one had said that to them, they hadn't said it to one another, but Luke's mother was Vietnamese and his father was Greek and that was some kind of relief to Danny, it meant he was not alone. Luke wasn't the only Asian boy in their class and Danny wasn't the only wog. But Ju and Leung avoided Luke and discouraged his attempts at friendship; and Tsitsas and De Bosco, like the older boy Morello on the swim squad, seemed to detest Danny. He'd heard Tsitsas sneer once, as Danny was walking past, 'That fag isn't even a true wog.' Danny had noticed from his first week that Luke was the boy who always sat alone at recess or lunch, who everyone felt free to pick on. It was because he was so small and slight, and because he didn't fit in with anyone. Cunts College made it clear that Luke Kazantsis didn't belong. So one day during his second week, Danny sat next to Luke at lunch. And he was glad he did: Luke was smart and funny and not cruel. But now, every day, Luke was his shadow, convinced that he and Danny were best friends. It wasn't the case; he couldn't say it to the smaller boy, but it would never be the case. Demet was his best friend. You only had one best friend and his was Demet.
'What time is it?'
Luke glanced at his watch. I bet it's expensive, thought Danny. It was one of those things that no one at school talked about, but it was something everyone knew, who did and didn't have money.
'Twelve-thirty.'
'Let's go down to the river.'
The colour drained from Luke's face. 'We can't.'
'Suit yourself.' Danny turned away. No wonder the others teased Luke. He was so gutless. Danny started walking away, but soon he heard Luke's footsteps behind him. Danny turned around to smile, but he was also a little annoyed. There was no place to hide in the new school. There was no place to be alone.
A tall wire fence separated the school grounds from the bushland that led down to the river, but Danny knew exactly where he was going. He had discovered the path to the river during that first week at Cunts College. There were points all along the fence where it had been damaged and then repaired, but in a few spots the rusting wire had not been touched and part of the fencing had come away from the palings. Danny crouched down and effortlessly slipped under the loose wire netting. When he looked back, Luke was staring at him from the other side of the fence.