PART THREE
13Our packs bulge with everything we might need, even though we don’t know where we’re headed or what we’re going to do.
I hoist the rugged carcass up on my back, and settle into the weight, memories, sense of freedom. We belong together. ‘I love this.’
‘I’m the same.’ Emily smiles at me.
We board a bus heading north and settle comfortably into our own worlds, quiet as can be. The bus rattles through the countryside, through small villages, along the broken coastline. Emily leans into the window frame, floating away in dreams of Jack, remembering her friends in Golden Bay.
The Indian bus driver and ticket collector chat, gesticulating back and forth, in stops and starts, with the bus. Their bright, animated faces look forward into bright futures. Pop music blasts above the
