Beneath the Surface

by Tara Marlow

  When the pain eased a little, she surveyed her room. Books and trinkets were scattered everywhere. She rolled to her knees and slowly picked up her treasures. When everything was back in its place, she crawled into bed.

  Yes, she heard her father loud and clear. In reality, the place was more hers than his, since she paid the rent more often than he did. But the lease was in his name. Or someone’s name. The name he had stolen.

  She knew she wasn’t safe anymore. Things had changed too much. She would move in with Lowell, even if it was for a few weeks. This nightmare couldn’t continue. Lowell encouraged her many times to move in with him. He warned her it would get worse as it had with his own father. And still she clung to the fact that her father was not all bad. Maybe she was wrong? Other than the Chinese dinner recently, she hadn’t seen the father she missed in a long, long time. She began a text Lowell, but hesitated over the keypad. No. She couldn’t. She couldn’t do that to him. There had to be another way.

  But maybe, just maybe, her life depended on her moving in with him after all. She remembered that feeling of freedom and hope when she left the school grounds. Yeah, it was time.

  9

  The results of last night’s trauma left her body aching. She’d woken with blood on her sheets and purple bruising around the gouge in her shoulder. Now, after getting through another day of school, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. It was challenging trying to study in the café today, but she had to get through her homework at least.

  Daniel surprised her by placing a coffee in front of her. She mumbled “thanks”, making sure not to look up. She would rather he assume she was focused, not recovering from one of her father’s benders. Thinking about last night brought back visions of the woman with scuffed stilettos, not to mention the look of vengeance on her face while she was bent over the couch… Ugh. No. That woman was feral.

  Grace inched forward in her chair, hoping for some relief then moved back when she found none. Concentrate on the homework, she murmured. Focus. She just needed to finish this year.

  “Are you okay?” Daniel asked quietly. He was still standing at her table.

  Grace nodded. She could not let him see her face. Her father’s backhand had left a bruise and small cut above her cheek, courtesy of his silver ring. The makeup she applied for school had most likely worn off, and she’d forgotten to grab it when she left. Dad was usually better at delivering blows in places they didn’t show. Blend in, he always said. But bruises on your face didn’t allow you to blend in. Yeah, her dad was losing it.

  “Grace?” she heard Daniel whisper. “Grace.”

  She looked up and seeing the look on Daniel’s face, realised she’d zoned out. Shit.

  “Oh fu...” Daniel hissed. His gaze shifted from confusion to concern. “What happened?”

  Grace moved her hand to her face. “Oh. Nothing. I walked into the door last night. It was really dark. I couldn’t see.”

  “Grace. It was a super moon last night. My house was lit up like a rugby stadium.”

  “I’m fine. Really.” She tried to continue working, but Daniel pulled out a chair and sat. He reached across the table, placing his hand on hers. She snatched it away quickly as if his hand was a live wire.

  “Grace. Who did that to you?” Daniel’s voice cut her to her core. She could usually deal with her father’s moods. But whatever drugs he was now into, things had intensified. She felt lost, unsure of what to do. Her father had gone from being frustrated at their situation to something else. How could she describe it? Rage, for sure, but the loathing toward her was new. Bringing the woman home last night? That was new, too. Grace thought things were looking up. He told her he had a new job. But his incompetence to hold a job was new as well. Normally, he could hold a job down for a few months. Until they ran, at least. Now it had all come to a head. His beatings had intensified. She was used to the occasional beating when he was really pissed off. But not like this, not showing the bruises. And not this often. She’d always been vigilant around her father’s anger. She knew what to do to avoid the line of fire. Now it seemed...

  “Grace?”

  “It’s complicated,” she whispered.

  “Okay. Do you want me to take you home?”

  She shook her head. Too fast. It made her dizzy. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

  “Are you safe there, Grace?” The question threw her. Grace slowly looked at him, her eyes revealing an untold story. Slowly, as if the years of hiding were finally too much, she shook her head.

  She watched as he opened his mouth and closed it again. Tears formed in her eyes. Daniel reached out for her hand again.

  “How can I help? Do you want to go to the police?” Grace shook her head vehemently. The thought of that made her want to throw up. Or maybe admitting her circumstances was what made her feel nauseous. Admitting it made things real. No, she wouldn’t involve the police. She just wanted to get out of her situation.

  “Okay. What about your boyfriend?” he asked. What? What boyfriend? He was the only guy she’d ever found attractive. Who the hell was he talking about?

  “The guy you’re always with. Young. Black. Good looking, I guess. I thought you guys were a couple.”

  “You mean Lowell?” she chuckled, relieved. Her laughter soon filled the café.

  “Why are you laughing? You always look, I don’t know. Together.”

  “Oh my God. No,” she said. She shook her head, gently this time. “He and I are friends. Just friends. Lowell is gay.”

  “Oh. Okay. But he’s not the one that did that…” he asked. He nodded toward her bruised face. Her hand rose automatically to her cheek.

  “No. He’s not.”

  “So…?” She hesitated at answering. Did she want to tell him? Her eyes scanned his. She saw concern. Maybe sympathy, which she hated. Maybe a little pity. She hated that more.

  She scanned the surrounding area out of habit. Who else noticed her? She noticed two police officers walking past the café. She put her head down, partially covering her face with her hair. Another habit. She heard Daniel sigh. Her eyes met his, but she kept her head down. She considered him for a few seconds. Could she trust him? Something told her she could. She looked around again. She had to trust her gut.

  “They’re from my dad,” she whispered, then quickly wanted to take the words back. Other than to Lowell, she never talked about her father. She didn’t know why. Instinct, she guessed. It was safer not to. So why now? Why this guy? Why Daniel?

  “Have you called the cops on him? You know it’s...” Daniel said harshly, then sat back quickly against his chair in exasperation. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck go up. Cautious now, she was confused by his aggressive response to the situation. “Sorry.”

  “I know what it is. You don’t have to tell me. Like I said, it’s complicated. It’s just until I finish my H.S.C. Then I’m free.” Her hand wrapped around the schoolbook in front of her. She clung to it like it was a life preserver. She knew her education was her only way out.

  “What can I do? How can I help you?” asked Daniel, leaning in.

  Grace looked down. Then, taking a deep breath, she looked directly at Daniel. Did she trust him? She barely knew him.

  “I don’t know you,” she whispered.

  “I’m a country boy, getting a double degree in agriculture and business management. I have a part-time job in finance at a small company in the city,” he said. He hesitated, then lowered his voice and added, “I just want to be sure you’re safe. You don’t know me from Adam, but I’m trustworthy. And, well … I’ve been around this kind of thing before.”

  Adam? Who the hell was Adam? Now she was really confused. And what did he mean by, ‘this kind of thing’? Her defences went up. She moved again in her seat and winced.

  “What do you mean by ‘this kind of thing’?” she asked curiously, but she seriously needed to move the attention away from herself.

  “I had an old girlfriend
. Her Dad was… well, she wasn’t safe either. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I just want to help, and I thought…”

  “Well, I’m okay. My Dad has a temper. Usually, I can avoid his moods.” She closed her books. She was done with her homework. At least for now. She couldn’t focus anymore if she tried. Her head was spinning. She wanted to go home and sleep, to forget about her life for a while. If only she could. Her father and the skanky woman flashed into her mind.

  “It’s not your fault, you know,” Daniel mumbled.

  “Yeah, I know,” she said, softly.

  “You’re also not responsible for him. Or his behaviour.”

  “Yeah, I know that too. I duck and cover when I can,” she said, trying to lighten the conversation. Although that was easier before. Now, he seemed more intent on making her life miserable. He was angrier, but she had no clue why and she guessed it related to money. Everything was. Was it more than that? He was certainly more nit-picky lately too. Usually when that happened, they were packing up soon after. Daniel was staring at her. Had she not heard a question?

  “I have a plan. Ride it out until the end of the year. Finish my H.S.C. It’s the only way... It’s why I don’t date. No distractions.”

  “Maybe you should. It would keep you away from home at least?” She saw a flash of interest in his eyes. She hadn’t imagined it. Maybe Lowell was right after all. He was smooth. Maybe he was just trying to hook up after all? She sat back and looked at him, long enough to make him squirm. He played with her empty coffee cup on the table. Was he pondering his next move?

  “How old are you anyway?” she asked.

  “Twenty-one,” he answered. She nodded. Not as old as she initially thought. She stared at him. He looked down and spun the coffee cup around in his hands.

  “Does your friend, Lowell… does he know about your dad?” he eventually asked.

  “Yes. He’s sworn that he won’t call the police unless I say so.”

  Daniel nodded. “That’s hard, as your friend. I mean, your dad shouldn’t be hitting you like that.” He stared at her, and she saw a darkness shroud his eyes, like a shield coming down in front of a secret he wasn’t willing to share with her. Maybe he was from an abusive home, too? She wanted to reach out to him, take his hand, but she had her own worries. Worrying about Lowell was all she could handle. She sat up a little straighter in her chair, taking on the responsibility of her own truths. Seeing his pain, she made a decision.

  “My dad’s problem is with drugs and alcohol,” she admitted. “He’s using but I don’t know what. Everything has gotten more frequent. Both the drugs and the slap downs.” It was more than that, the voice in her head reminded her. “But I can handle it. I know how to avoid it. Most of the time.” She threw her chin out, bolstering her own confidence but knowing her bruises betrayed her.

  “Lately, it’s been stuff that’s caught me by surprise. Like, last night.” She reached up and touched her shoulder, feeling the sting once more.

  “Why do you stay?” he whispered. “Surely there’s somewhere you can go?”

  She was quiet for a minute. It was the same question Lowell asked many times. It was the question she’d been asking herself more often lately, too.

  “I don’t know,” she said eventually. She didn’t know. Not really. She tried to explain it. “Because he is my dad? I mean, he hasn’t always been this way. I know, deep down, that he cares. He does. I’m sure it’s hard to understand and I’m not doing a fabulous job explaining it either...”

  Daniel returned to spinning the white ceramic coffee cup in front of him. She couldn’t read him. Eventually, he looked up at her.

  “Okay. Can I at least give you my phone number?” he asked. “Just in case you need to get out. Or if you need a friend. I know we’ve just met. But, well, I’d feel better if you had it. It’s up to you if you want to delete it or not.”

  She hesitated. He seemed genuine, and her instincts told her he was okay. Besides, when her dad swapped out the SIM card at the end of the month, like he did every month, Daniel’s number would disappear with it. She pulled out her battered old Nokia from her backpack, scrolled through to her contacts, and passed him the phone. He added his number and handed the phone back to her. She had four numbers listed: her father’s, Lowell’s, work and now Daniel’s. She changed his name to D, just in case her father snooped.

  He handed her his phone. “Add yours, so I’ll answer if you ever decide to contact me.”

  “You know, this is a weird way to get my number. You could’ve just asked,” she smirked. He chuckled. Typing, she was relieved this number was easy to remember. It was hard to keep track when it was changed every month.

  “But would you have given the number to me, if I’d asked?”

  “Yeah, probably not,” she said, knowing full well she wouldn’t have. Lowell’s words came back to her. Be careful, Jelly.

  “I’ve noticed you turn all those other guys away. What do you say to them? They always hightail it out of here right afterwards.”

  “What guys?” A chill ran down her back. She’d had a feeling someone was watching her for weeks. Had it been Daniel?

  “Shit, I sound like a stalker. I’m really not. It’s just that, I’ve seen how the guys hit on you here. They run for the door, every time, right after they approach you. It was actually pretty entertaining to watch.”

  “Oh my God,” she groaned, “I just tell them I’m studying for my H.S.C. After that, they run faster than I can take my next breath. I guess they’re sensible. Unlike you.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m happy just to get to know you,” he said, his blue eyes blazing.

  “I think you got the short end of the stick. You’ve gotten yourself mixed up with some high school girl who gets beaten up by her dad.”

  10

  Grace looked around. The walls were close, as if she were in a closet, and they were splattered red. In an instant, everything went pitch black and someone was screaming in the distance. Feeling something cold in her hand, she thought about a phone number she was supposed to dial. The number Mummy told her. Mummy. She had to help Mummy. Confused, she couldn’t remember the number. Think. Think. Think.

  “What the fuck?!” Her father’s spittle sprayed across her face. His words were muffled, unclear. In her nightmare, she was now a teenager, not the five-year-old she’d been seconds ago. Her father backhanded her, and she fell into the wall. Something hard bit into her shoulder, as it had in her reality only a few nights before.

  Dazed, Grace saw blood oozing from the red suitcase. Her father flung the suitcase across the room, scattering the contents across the floor. Clothes, books, a hairdryer, and her ‘absolutes’ all lay at her feet. She felt the phone in her hands once more. She was five again. The teenager was gone.

  * * *

  Grace sat up in the cold room, her bed creaking, and wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “The red suitcase again,” she whispered into the blackness. Why that suitcase? Something about it made her think it been her mother’s. But the phone? That was new. Maybe the phone was due to her texting Lowell last night, telling him she’d given Daniel her phone number. Yes, that had to be it. She took a deep breath, listening for sounds outside her room. The reassuring silence allowed her to lie back down.

  She thought again about moving in with Lowell. She was so tired of living on the edge and these nightmares weren’t helping. This, whatever this was, couldn’t be normal, could it?

  Blend in. Don’t bring attention to yourself.

  Her father’s words rung in her head. She lived by those words, but why would she need to blend in? People on the streets stood out, proud of who they were and what they stood for. She still didn’t understand why he was so adamant about it. But there was fear there. His fear. But fear of what? She didn’t know. For her, it was fear from her father’s wrath. His behaviour lately was so erratic. She knew they were running from something, someone. She wasn’t stupid. They
’d been running her whole life. The problem was every time she asked, the rare times he’d been sober enough, she’d received a thrashing, verbal or otherwise. So she’d stopped asking. His last words on the subject were ‘it’s none of your business.’ But it was her business, wasn’t it? It was her life, too.

  Blend in. Don’t bring attention to yourself.

  Her friendship with Lowell was one thing, but living with a black English guy would certainly bring attention. Could she risk it? She rubbed her hands over her arms, feeling the goosebumps. She was excited about the possibility of gaining freedom. Could she leave without her father knowing? Would he even realise she was gone? She thought about that. At least not for a few days, she thought, if she did it stealthily. Could she stay hidden from him and whatever else they were running from? From her father, maybe. But she didn’t know what they were running from, so she couldn’t answer that piece. What if he found her? Her father terrified her. She could acknowledge that to herself now. He wasn’t the same dad she’d grown up with. Summoning her gumption, she knew that whatever he was involved in, she needed to distance herself from it. She needed to get far, far away.

  She needed to talk to Lowell, and soon.

  11

  Where are you? Lowell’s text came through with a distinct buzz.

  Almost there, grandpa. Just hang on! she responded. The train was running late and she assumed he was illegally parked. He often was.

  + choc waiting. If you aren’t here in 5 mins, I’m eating it.

  I’m on the bloody train! Don’t eat my chocolate. I’ll be there in 10.

  She disembarked at Eastwood station and found Lowell leaning against his car in the parking lot. He waved her over.