Land of Make Believe

The letter arrived in a plain, white envelope - the kind with a little plastic window on the front that always made her stomach drop. Credit card statements came in such envelopes, along with electricity bills, letters from the tax office and all manner of things that set out to dampen her day but this was different. She knew the moment her thumb traced over the postmark that tearing it open was going to change her life.

It was still sealed three hours later, zipped into the inside pocket of her tote bag, invisible to the hordes of people that were beginning to swarm on the river foreshore. It was a strange kind of evening, hot and damp and bright with the promise of the year's first rain. She could feel goosebumps rising under the sweat on her skin as she watched the storm roll in from behind the city skyline, the helicopter searchlights slicing the darkening sky and making the clouds glow.

"It looks like Gotham."

She turned to her sister, cross-legged on the grass beside her, and smiled.

"Yeah. It feels like... something's about to happen... I mean something big, y'know… something that's going to shake everyone up and change them forever."

Her sister rolled her eyes, and then giggled, reaching one arm out to push, playfully, at her shoulder.

"I love some of the stuff you come out with, Daisy. I'll tell you what's about to happen - Australia Day fireworks and the mother of all thunderstorms. And they better happen soon because I reckon it's about to frickin' piss it down."

"I reckon you're right."

It was becoming busy by the river and the children gathering by the water's edge were beginning to quiver with excitement, bouncing on bare feet, their fists gripping glow sticks that were painting luminescent streaks in the fractious January air. They were half-watched by the parents sheltering underneath the palms, most of whom seemed to have more attention on their beer, the sausages charring on the barbecue and their burgeoning, flag-waving, red and blue patriotism.

Daisy tipped her head back and looked up at the darkening sky.

"What's your Australia Day wish?"

She got a snort in response.

"I think I'm gonna wish for the bloody temperature to drop ten degrees and this bastard rain to hurry up and do it's thing."

"Come on... you can't waste a wish on the weather. You're twenty-eight, not eighty."

"Yeah, alright." Her sister sighed, thoughtfully, pursing her lips and looking out at the glittering water for a moment, before she replied. "You know what? I wish, this year, I could meet a guy that doesn't lie or play games with my head or think he can mess me around. You know, one that actually thinks for himself, about interesting stuff... stuff other than the AFL or the surfing forecast. I just want to meet someone that isn't so... one dimensional and doesn't expect me to be one dimensional and... ugh. I am so fucking sick of getting chatted up by losers at work."

Daisy grinned.

"That'll happen. I'm confident that, in the whole of twenty-twelve, you will meet one decent, interesting guy."

"They do have to be hot, too, though."

"Well, that's kind of narrowing your search,” Daisy joked.

“Not flawless, muscled, perfectly-bland-model hot. You know, just… someone with warm eyes and a nice smile and strong arms that make you feel, y’know, safe.”

“Definitely, totally possible, Sis.”

"Thanks for the optimism, Daise. So, what's yours?"

Daisy bit her lip, unable to help her eyes from drifting to where her bag still lay on the grass, the crisp edge of the stiff, white envelope just visible through the patterned canvas.

"I... I want to dance on a stage - a proper stage, not a Uni Theatre Club or a Rec Centre or some playhouse stuck down an alley where the audience is made up of everyone's mums - and I want to feel like a star."

Her sister smiled.

"You know... you should feel like that in all those other places, too. A talent like yours, Daisy... you're a star already."

"Yeah..." Daisy sighed, with a crooked smile that her heart wasn't quite into. One of the circling helicopters swooped low overhead and she tipped her head back to watch it, lights swooping and that unmistakeable starry blue flag whipping behind it in the wind.

"Did you hear back from your audition yet?"

Daisy swallowed, then shook her head.

"Well, I bet you'll….”

The end of her sentence was lost, as a low roll of thunder pealed across the water, culminating in a deafening crack and sending a fork of brilliant white light splintering, crookedly, across the sky. There was an audible gasp from the children standing in the shallow water, who stopped their frenzied glow-stick dance to stare in awe. A rattling barrage of sharp blasts rumbled into the thunder and an array of fountain-like fireworks shot from the top of the city’s tallest buildings.

Daisy’s breath caught and she reached for her sister’s hand when the crowd that surrounded them began to sing. She was grateful that the spectacle in the sky left nobody a chance to notice that she never could remember the words to the National Anthem.

The clouds lit up with every colour, glittering with explosions and fractured with bolts of hot white. As the first drops of warm rain began to fall, the girls pulled their picnic rug up over their heads, huddling beneath it and shivering with something unfamiliar.

“I have this weird feeling…” Daisy began, her uncertain words almost swallowed by the noise.

“Me too. You know… I reckon you might have been right before. This year might shake us up and change us forever.”

Their eyes never left the sky.

The house was in darkness when Daisy returned. She slid the broken fly screen across the backdoor, wincing as it squeaked and rattled in its runners and the sound echoed through the hot, sticky air inside the kitchen.

Her mother had always hated fireworks and Australia Day more so. Listening to all that racket, getting eaten alive by mozzies, boozy blokes lairing it up and acting like we didn’t steal this country…

She missed out the creaky floorboard as she crept across the landing.

“Home already, Darl?”

She smiled, rolling her eyes and poking her head around her mother’s bedroom door. She never went to sleep until she heard her youngest come home. Daisy whispered into the darkness.

“The storm came, Mum. The fireworks were far out though.”

“Glad you had a good time. Your sister went back to her place?”

“Yeah, she’s working an early shift tomorrow. Get some sleep, Ma. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

The air in her bedroom was heavy and damp and she whacked the little portable air conditioner into action again with a kick, before sitting, gingerly, on the edge of her unmade bed and staring at herself in the full length mirror across the room. Her eyes looked very bright against her clumsily applied face paint. Apparently, three beers had done nothing to aid her sister’s lack of artistic ability.

She took a breath and slipped the white envelope out of her bag.

Her fingernail slid across the edge and the sharp, tearing sound cut stark across the whirring of the air conditioner and the fading sounds of merriment from the street beneath her window. She took a deep breath and swallowed it, unfolding stiff, white paper.

Dear Miss Bourne,

Thank you for recently auditioning for us. We saw many talented singers, musicians, actors and dancers during call-backs and, after careful consideration, we would like to offer you a part in our ensemble.

I was very impressed with your performance and have no doubt that you will be successful in this challenging role.

Please join us for a cast meet and read-through 9.00am February 18 at Soundworks Studios, Perth, WA. Rehearsals begin February 20.

Congratulations! I look forward to welcoming you as part of the cast.

Yours sincerely,

Bart Franklin

Director, American Idiot Musical (Australia)

Daisy looked up, the paper quivering in her hands as she met her own eyes again in the mirror and watched the white stars painted on her cheek bleed into the blue. She flopped backwards onto her bed, tears of shock staining her pillow.

Lightning lit the room. She grinned.