“Fuck!” I want to hit something. Hard.
“Hopefully, one day you will,” she tilts her head, not smiling in the least. Derailing me again.
I assess her, sizing her up. Realising that she is a girl, the girl I want. I start to think about what she just said. I feel a strange sensation ricochet through my body, the image I had before. She watches me, eyes deadly.
“It will never be me,” she narrows those eyes even further and gets right up in my face. “I want a lot from the person that I will share my body with because I’m prepared to give everything to them. I want to be me the whole time. Without worrying what they think. I want trust. I want fun. I want real goddamn stupid-grin-heart- thudding- die-for-you love. I want everything and I will take nothing less.”
I’m speechless. Mesmerised. I want to give that to her, but I can’t say it because I may not even be able to see her after Tuesday. I drop with a thud to the ground wishing I didn’t get into that fight.
She sits down next to me, “Sorry I pushed you, sometimes it’s hard to remember stuff from those type of times. I think it’s to protect us but... sometimes I think we want to keep it how it is. So, we don’t have to work on it or fix it. There’re things we choose to keep in our mental vaults because we don’t want to be challenged. We don’t want to change our thinking. We have made our lives up on those things and to open them up for debate is scary.”
“It’s alright.” I find her small hand and pull it into my lap.
“It’s not, but it will be, Noah. It will be,” she smiles at me, her beautiful face displaying the trust and belief in me I don’t deserve but desperately want.
“It will take time,” I swallow knowing right now that I’m not ready. My mouth opens to ask her what her dad said, but she turns and smiles, “Everything feels better when you can smell horses. Let’s go back home.”
wrapped up
Avalon
I’ve never had a four-minute shower before, but I find I’m needing it.
Need it to wash away these tears. The build-up I can no longer restrain.
It’s a strange feeling, the hot water mixing my grief, guilt and relief. Sighing audibly, I let the water course over my eyes, I feel really alone at the moment; which is ridiculous because I have Harry and Flea here but... but I want Nathan... and he’s not answering his damn phone. It’s going straight to voicemail which means he’s out, probably moving cattle or getting away from Angus.
I guess that’s probably for the best. World War three needs me as a participant.
But I can’t help the gnawing feeling of loss, I miss him so much, beyond words and right now, he would have knocked me out of these thoughts and had me straight again. I don’t need sympathy or siding with after the conversation with Dad, I need... revving up or something. Nathan would know just what to say and Nathan is rarely sympathetic, there’s no sooking allowed. He’s truthful, sometimes his own version of the truth but still...
I need to fix it things.
Somehow.
Maybe I feel alone because I need to choose a path, and that takes some thinking and generally, that includes a discussion involving options or at least support.
Leaning against the tiled wall to let the water stream over my ribs I swallow some invisible cement and begin giving myself a mental schedule.
One, the grief burning in my heart for Henry... for Dad losing another one of his friends. The loss of a good person pushed to the brink. The loss of one of us. I will grieve for angel-loving- always-smiling Henry tomorrow, remembering him in all the good ways. Tomorrow, I’ll be the angel he wanted me to be. The only silver lining is that he’s happy with them now.
The other grief is different. It’s a strange, palatable angry grief I feel swirling for Noah and it’s strong. I mean... shit. What a bloody truckload of horror to keep inside with no one to support him. No one to set him straight and tell him that he’s good. That love can be good. I feel like most of my tears are for him. That even though I could tell he had never cried about it before, there’s so much more in there that needs to come out and die in the sunlight.
He doesn’t realise how strong he is to have dealt with that, to keep it in. How the hell he is still able to function socially with all that BS his dad had poured in him is crazy. That whole no touching thing is going to be one of my first missions... although, that may be for selfish reasons. Moving on, Avalon.
Two, the guilt Dad threw at me for my spontaneous thoughtless mistake. How to fix it? I can’t change it. I can’t change not checking them, I can’t change buying them. I can only learn from it.
Grabbing the flannel, I mush soap into it and scrub my skin where I can. As I do, I have this vision of my mistakes getting scratched from me, colouring the soap suds dull brown as they wash down the drain. It was a mistake, I will not turn it into the betrayal Dad made it to be because he was obviously very upset over Henry to think those words through.
But even after I wash myself new and tell myself all this, I still feel that sickening twist in my stomach, adding to the pain I hold there already. The knowledge that I forgot who I was for a moment, what I believed in and who I fought for. Of course, it can happen, but it happened here in the city of all places.
And that thought is what obviously scared Dad the most, made him say all that. The thought that... I was changing... and for Dad; his fear probably added changing into my mum into the equation. That he could lose me too. Where the hell was Nathan? He would have just set Dad straight.
Reflection sometimes sucks because, to be honest, I have changed. I’ve learnt and I can’t unlearn. Nothing about learning is bad, it just colours you differently. Somewhere down my life road, this experience will turn me a direction I would not have gone before. Be relate-able to someone in my position in the future. But still...
I grab the towel and step out of the shower.
Truth is, I feel, like a betrayer. And because I feel crap already Dad’s words seem to contain this extra bite, a lockjaw bite at that. They keep replaying in my head even though I concede my mistake and understand it.
It’s ridiculous how my mind keeps thinking of it even though I’ve rationalised it. I can’t seem to stop my thoughts zipping from one thing to another. I’m tired. Too tired.
My brain starts to think how Noah must have felt... still feels now. His guilt that he literally killed his parents from an innocent action must be so immense, I mean I feel bloody terrible and all I did was buy a bunch of imported products. I guess I can understand how he’s affected so much from his dad’s words because his brain would have twisted everything so much he doesn’t know what is what anymore. Because thoughts do that, they take on a life of their own after a while. And sometimes ‘things’ unwittingly cement those ideas. Some of the girls I’ve met here would have given those words credence. And that is why you need to talk; my family say it how it is... you need that in your life. The people that tell you straight up whether you like it or not. To be that person for Noah though I may have to do some digging, so I know what I’m talking about. The sibling for one... The affair for another...
I feel so much for him. I want to wave a magic wand and fix everything ASAP but I know that’s not going to happen, I’m a muggle through and through... but just to check God hasn’t decided to grace me fictional powers in my time of distress I pick up an old toilet roll and point it at the wet towel. “Wingardium leviosa!” Nothing. Guess it’s going to be the long way then, good old time and patience but what if it’s not done by the time I go?
Nan would hold my face and say things don’t always go as planned, that we must weigh our priorities. What could we live with? Could I live with leaving when I may be the only one he trusts to let in? No, but could I live with the distress me staying would cause my family? Nathan?
“Grrr,” I growl at myself in the mirror. I know that if Noah needed me, I would stay longer, even if... well... it means putting off going home for a bit. Maybe I could do both and he could come back wit
h me? That would be a great option... for me... which is not who this is really about.
Nan used to say if your mind was figuring stuff out or stuck on something, you needed it for one of two reasons. To accept it to move on or as a catalyst for action, for change. She said you had to realise which. That great life-changing things are achieved by people that feel a need for change. For something to be better.
Obviously, to fix my mistake, I know next time not to buy them... duh. But as for being that proverbial boulder thrown into the pond to be life changing? Something will come to me. Probably not to Nan’s degree of satisfaction, maybe if I started robbing trucks of imported food on horseback Nan would have been mollified. She harboured this - what Pop called - ‘unhealthy obsession’ with Bushrangers. Dad was named after Ben Hall, he was lucky not to be called Captain Thunderbolt Pop said. I think that would be cool! Pop would always grimace in a weird way when Nan bought up Bushrangers or when she gave advice based on them.
For Noah’s problem, though it’s the other one, I accept it. Easy. I don’t care, it changes nothing for me or how I feel. I will be there for him it... it just hurts when someone you care about hurts and you can’t literally fix it physically. If his dad were still alive, I would have went to town on him. But I have nothing or no one to lash out on and it’s frustrating.
Anyway, only time will heal that situation and the discovery that his dad was dead wrong. And I’m right.
Number three. Relief.
Thank God for horse bandages, I sigh to myself as I feel the support warm against my ribs. I still can’t go to the loo which is concerning but one thing at a time. With the relief of Amber’s bandages around my rib cage, I’m pretty sure that I’m sporting a fractured rib at least, although I’m crossing my fingers it’s only ridiculously bruised and I’m being a big sook. A really big sook.
It’s Noah turn tonight. To let loose some of his chains.
Walking out I find him sitting in front of Harry on the floor, Flea is leaning over and pressing a weathered hand to Noah’s damaged shoulder holding the torn flesh together so that Harry can sew it up.
Leaning against the doorway, I just watch them for a minute, still talking about the fight. Noah is not as talkative with them yet as he is with me, but he’s slowly growing more comfortable. I run my eyes over his body, the pain of being sewn shows in every muscle as he tenses. I bite my lip. I’ve never been much on the physical appearance, I mean, yes, I love a good strong body, but that is what works and gets you through at home. I learnt early that people that are unhealthy don’t... can’t last long. So, for me, it was always a given when even considering a relationship that the person be physically strong.
Noah is that... but he’s something else. Something that makes me watch him when he’s unaware, study the colours that make up his beautiful eyes, something that wakes up my locusts to dance in my belly when he laughs or smiles. He has something that warms my skin right through when he finally presses even a finger against me. When his whole side touches me, I smile. He has something that loosens the hand-wringing my heart. His hand raises as he brings a bottle of beer to his lips. My eyes are drawn to the tattoo of his father on his bulging bicep.
Arsehole. Noah’s face turns in my direction. Hopefully, I didn’t say that out loud.
“Did you find another tooth in there? We could get matching necklaces,” I smile at him. His open eye gazes at me. Sometimes when he looks at me, I get this strange feeling, like if hours past and we were just looking at each other, it would be fine.
“I’ll be dead in the morning if there is one somewhere in there,” Noah looks deadpan as Harry works the needle through his skin. I’ve sewn up Nathan a few times, although Jordan is better because he is extremely neat. It’s not any different to sewing up a cow, bar the ‘I don’t want to look like a fricken chainsaw attacked me, Avalon’ part... and less hairy. I’m glad Harry is doing it.
Harry’s hands a steady and strong. Sure.
“I’m sure Harry has a bottle of antibiotics in the fridge,” I say seriously, turning to look at Harry who nods. “Can we inject that into humans?”
“I’m not sure,” Harry says. “Maybe he could just go to the doctors? Somewhere would be open.”
I feel my face contort, not for Noah but for me. I should probably go too, but I’m... a bit worried. If it were me, I would just have the cattle stuff. I wonder if it would help me. Doesn’t matter anyway, the bandages are making me feel better. My little ‘we don’t need to go the docs’ voice starts up with passion. Thoughts like, fractured ribs just need bandaging anyway... we are doing that... so it’ll be right start to course through my brain.
“Pffft,” I scoff, scared he’ll make me go, and the Doctor will... know the second he looks at me. “When Noah is older, he doesn’t want the story to go. ‘Yeah and then I kicked the rabid giant’s teeth out, scattering the razor-sharp little ivory ice cream cones all over the red stained floor. The brave little Indian that accompanied me to the dismal pit of sadistic humans had to make the life or death choice whether to scalp the man mountain or slice his ear off, a dire decision... the only way possible for us to escape the hostile betting crowd. After dodging the lethal crowd, demanding her winnings on the way, she dowsed my scratched, bitten and ruined body with disinfectant to stop the rabies taking hold. Harry burned a needle on the gas stove and started to sew me up with a beer as my only painkiller...’” I say all that dramatically only to add in a bored voice. “Then I went to the doctors and got a shot.”
“In preference to what?” Noah raises his eyebrow. “The little Indian almost kills me on the way home only to come up with this idea to shoot me up with cow medicine, so I really cark it?”
“Hey! Dad would say if it’s good enough for the cows it’s good enough for us! And I resent you saying that I nearly killed you! You big drama queen of a chicken,” I burk at him. Even though I’m the biggest one around, terrified of going to the doctors. Dad and his stories! And he thinks I never listen to him!
His eyes flash dangerously. Probably thinking of his car.
“Imagine you grew horns instead of dying?” I giggle having a funny vision. “That would be a cool upside!”
I sit next to Flea on the lounge and watch Harry sew. Very neat. Flea turns to me with this ‘not helpful, Avalon’ expression. “What? We all know that won’t happen unless he went to the hospital or someplace like where they test the unsuspecting, but still, he has to have something, that guy was grosser than a dam in drought filled with rotting, bloated carcasses.”
Flea chuckles. “Hospitals don’t ‘test the unsuspecting’ Av, but I do wish I saw the fight.”
“Come with us when Nat gets here. He’ll want to fight for sure,” I smile patting his leg. “But not that guy. Next time I’ll have to cut his butt cheek off or something. People will think nothing of an ear next time.”
“Would you take his shorts off first?” Harry asks frowning as he concentrates nearing the end.
Noah’s green eye slides to Harry, checking if he’s seriously asking me that.
Biting my lip, I lean back and think about it. I don’t get very far. “No way, would I take his shorts off! Imagine if he had a hairy bum! I’d gag! Or extra YUK not wearing undies and I saw something that scarred me for life?”
Flea laughs and I realise I feel better. These people are my family and long as we stick together, we will be right. I hope Noah feels like that too.
He’s mine now.
“You know what has always freaked me out, the thought of getting my tongue sliced in two. Like a snake’s,” Flea says out of nowhere. “When your Pop and I were in the war, that was the thing we were going to do if we had to make someone talk. Your Nan always… wanted to do the cutting.”
“My nan?” I say turning to him in confusion.
“Oh, I meant your Pop,” Flea hastily amends.
“Now I know where Av gets it from. But they wouldn’t be able to talk then, would they?” Noah asks moving his bru
ised hand against my foot. Warmth creeps up my legs. I try to creep it closer without scaring him, totally forgetting Flea’s words.
“Yeah, they’d be all like sssghhwou hoquet wssshtuh,” I crack up. “It’s settled. Ahomana is getting a snake tongue if we go up against him again. He’s definitely Slytherin material. And I’ll make sure my knife is manky too so if Noah doesn’t take the cow shot and dies later tonight, he will meet the same fate.”
“We...” Noah drawls fixing his green eye on me. “I don’t think I’ll take you again,” he mumbles, but I catch it. Sharp ears here for bossy comments.
“It’s commonly known that when you die from a bite infection you can’t come back to haunt people,” I shake my head with a now you’ve done it expression. “So, you won’t have any say... or ghost power. You’ll just have to watch in an eerie-can’t-do-anything silence. Oh, the things I will get up to….”
Noah takes another swig from his beer. A grimace etched on his face as Harry finishes the last stitch.
“Fine,” he looks steadily back at me. Some thought brewing behind that beautiful green eye that is watching me. I stand up and head toward the kitchen.
I know what he’s saying, why he doesn’t want to take me. How many times do I have to say I don’t care about how crazy he goes? Why do people conveniently gloss over the crazy things I do? Because I’m a girl? Pulling out what I need I stride back into the lounge room. I slap the steak on his eye. He gave into the needle, but he’s set on not taking me to the fights.
I smile sweetly at him as I shake the contents of the jar knowing that if he goes, I’m going.
Harry bites his lip as he ties the thread. “You worked out the dose?”
“Ummm,” I mumble as I try to determine how much he should have compared to a cow. “How much do you weigh, Monster?” I ask, comparing him mentally calves.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 17
