‘Easy there.’ A man in a black suit rested his hand on my back. I offered him a tight smile, a silent thanks for his help. Trying to act professional, I straightened my shoulders and proceeded to circle the room.
‘Lucy, your smiles are just as important as my food,’ Laurie said when I returned to the kitchen with one lousy slider remaining. ‘Your smiles show confidence in your offerings. I can put as much love in my creations behind the scenes, but unless you give it when you hand it out, it’ll only taste half as sweet.’
Amber rolled her eyes and lowered her empty tray onto the stainless steel bench.
‘I saw that.’ Laurie pointed her finger at her daughter, but the light in her eyes told me she was laughing as much as scolding.
‘Sorry. My head’s elsewhere.’ I picked up a tray of fresh food, sweet scented miniature cupcakes, but Laurie stopped me before I left the room.
‘It has been all night, I think. Do you need to go home?’ She scanned the room. ‘There’s enough of us to manage for the rest of the night.’
I didn’t want to go home early; it wasn’t like that’d make my thoughts go away. But this work thing wasn’t playing out as intended either. I lowered my tray and my head, I hated letting people down. ‘I’ll send Dad a message.’
Amber flung me a sympathetic look before Laurie shooed her from the room. I shot out a text to Dad, and kept busy cleaning while I waited for my ride.
‘You have any leftovers yet?’ I asked Laurie as she strolled out of the cool room.
She pushed a bag of buns along the bench. ‘I don’t know about sweets yet, but you can take these, they won’t be used tonight. And I’ll grab you the leftover pork.’
I loaded the bags of food into the back of the car and jumped into the front seat.
‘Shelter first?’ Dad asked eyeing off the bags.
‘Yep.’
‘Smells amazing. I wonder if they realise they’re the luckiest homeless for miles.’
‘Yeah, so lucky. I’ll bet that’s exactly what they think when they get Laurie’s leftovers: “Gee, I’m so glad I’ve got nowhere to sleep tonight.”’
Dad laughed and pulled onto the road. ‘You know what I mean.’
The clock on the centre console clicked over to the hour, and my heart accelerated, bracing for what naturally came next. Dad reached over and dialled up the volume. Even though he didn’t know they were the source of my nightmares, I wished he had an ounce of awareness for what the stories did to me. Sometimes it even felt like he did it on purpose. Like he was trying to harden me up to the realities of life, as if he were training me for a game of soccer. If only he knew I’d already had years of training, I was as fit as Ronaldo.
Without Mum to step in, and unable to reach into the back seat for my earphones in time, I had no choice but to accept the invasion. But what was new? My life was full of things beyond my control. The news began, and I gripped the sides of my seat. My eyes flickered closed as the cascade of words seeped through me.
‘The identity of the deceased man discovered by two joggers in Sydney’s North East yesterday morning is believed to be that of Aaron Jacobson, forty-eight year-old English professor and father from Melbourne.’
The news report went on to say the coroner had determined the cause of death to be cardiac arrest and did not suspect foul play. I exhaled, as horrible as it was to put a scale on death, this one I could handle…I hoped.
When I arrived at the shelter a few minutes later, Patty greeted me at the door. We stood eye to eye, but only because I stood one step lower than her. ‘Lucy.’ She ushered me into the room. ‘I wasn’t expecting you this early.’ Her crinkled face scrunched even more at her endless smile.
‘Quiet night so Laurie sent me home.’ My smile formed painlessly with her warmth rubbing off on me. It was easy to forget my troubles when the room housed a group of men who had nowhere to call home. All faces I recognised, all regulars. Stubbly, gap-toothed Henry grinned as I followed Patty to the kitchen. These people were amazing. I admired their resilience and strength in the face of so much hardship. If only I had as much. But it was difficult when the hardships were all in your head.
When I finally crawled into bed all I wanted was the black void of sleep, but thanks to my less than attentive father, it really was no surprise when death knocked on my door during the night.
The man ran with determined speed, darkness encroaching on the quiet path. I pumped my arms, stretched my legs further, but he surpassed my normal pace and I struggled to keep up. His tall strides grew staggered and slowed.
I spun around, my hair floundering behind me. He was alone. Crap. I sped along the path, gaining on him easily. His face contorted in pain, and he gripped at his shoulder, his knees buckling beneath him. I reached out for him, but couldn’t stop his fall as he collapsed to the ground. I wasn’t a visible participant in tonight’s viewing, only a useless bystander.
Dread pummelled into my chest. No one would hear his cries of pain; no one would find him until the morning.
The desperation in his eyes as he reached the same lonely conclusion seared a hole of despair straight through my heart, and I crumpled onto the ground beside him.
Sweat coated the back of my neck. I sat and pushed my hair aside to allow some relief. Rubbing at my temple I let out a small whimper for the man who, in his final fleeting minutes, must’ve felt so alone. I reached blindly for my jet bracelet, sliding it onto my wrist, and grabbed at the pencil and book in my top draw. Half awake, half asleep, I let my fingers glide over the page, the form of his face, ever so slowly, taking shape beneath the lead.
*****
‘Oh, Lucy, my darling girl, look at you, gorgeous as always.’ Granny Tess held her arms wide, taking me in as I reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘You look tired though, dear. Are you getting enough sleep? You know they say a sixteen-year-old should sleep for at least ten hours.’
I wrapped my arms around her. ‘I think it’s actually a lot less than that. But don’t worry, I’m getting enough.’ It probably didn’t help that I’d only woken thirty minutes earlier, and from a gut-wrenching nightmare.
I loved Granny Tess’s ability to compliment and criticise at the same time; it was oddly endearing. Surprisingly, though, I never felt judged by her. She said what she saw, in a less than subtle way, but she loved me all the same.
Granny Tess’s dyed red-orange hair, normally rolled in a bun, fell loosely down to the hollow in her back as she headed into the kitchen to help Mum with the tea and coffees. She never was the sort to conform to the ideal grandparent model. She still wanted to pretend she was twenty-five. With red hair instead of the usual purple blond, and long when society said short, she fought hard against the norm, and that was only her hair.
‘Don’t pay her any attention, Lucy Lou, she’s just jealous.’ Pop looked sideways at Granny Tess, a small smile on his round face. His eyes were alight with happiness, a constant whenever he was around any of his grandchildren. ‘You look perfect.’ He opened his arms, and I stepped into them.
After lunch I snatched the first opportunity to speak with Granny Tess. Mum had disappeared into the kitchen, Dad was on the phone for work, and Pop went to watch Ollie play a computer game.
‘I need to talk to you.’ I grabbed her arm and, forgetting for a moment she was nearly seventy-five years old, dragged her out through the sliding door into the enclosed outdoor pergola. The weather had shifted during the night, and rain tapped endlessly like pebbles against the glass surrounding the small room. The chill of cool winds seeping through cracks in the bricks made me shiver. We lowered ourselves onto the tattered green outdoor sofa, the musty scent growing from our bodies pressing into the cushions.
‘What is it, dear? Something’s bothering you.’ Understatement of the century. She frowned, pressed her lips together, and waited.
I folded my hands in my lap. ‘What would you say if I told you I dreamed of someone before I met them in real life?’ I gulped. Always the moment
of truth when I laid myself bare.
Granny Tess smiled, the edges of her eyes laced with years and years of wrinkles, or as she would call them, laugh lines. She caught hold of my fingers and squeezed. ‘I would say tell me more.’
I sucked in a lungful of air and released the avalanche of tension I’d been holding onto for the last two days. I told her about the plane crash, about Tyler, and not being entirely sure if he recognised me or not, even though saying it out loud sounded like the most absurd idea in the history of forever. I exhaled. My heart had climbed a mountain, but now that the words were out, the throbbing lessened to a steady beat.
‘I don’t know all the answers, but this is what I think. You’re connecting with other people’s souls in your dreams, and that’s how you see what you do. So let’s say you’ve gathered the memory of the last moments before those people were killed. If the last moment for the pilot was saying goodbye to his son, then it’s fair to say you’re seeing the truth, his truth.’
‘And now he’s moved to Antil.’
‘Precisely. And I would guess you’re still dreaming it because you would desperately like to help those people on the plane.’
‘I want to help all the people I see die. But I can’t, it’s too late.’
‘Mmm.’ Granny Tess retreated into deep thought, her brows inching closer, fingers pressing the pleats on her pale pink pants. She fixed her eyes on me, still faraway, but here as well. ‘I think you’re like me, or how I once was at least. See, the thing is, most people are so concerned with their own anxieties that that’s what they dream of, but you, Lucy, are such a deeply passionate person who cares so much for everyone else, that you dream of their problems as though they were your own.’
Yeah, sometimes the weight of it felt too much, but not caring would be as foreign to me as walking the streets of Rome.
Granny Tess’s chest rose and fell painstakingly slow. ‘I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to freak out.’
‘After what I just told you, not a chance.’
She glanced over her shoulder into the house, her thick red hair swishing over her face. Dad sat at the table with Pop, the remains of lunch still in the centre of the table. He viewed us briefly with a tight smile, a ‘what’re you two doing’ question in his eyes. He looked away and Granny Tess nodded once. To what, him? Me?
She patted her knee. ‘Good. So you already know I used to dream like you, although most of the people I dreamed of hadn’t died–’
‘But if those people weren’t dead, how could you dream it? You just said it was their dead souls connecting with mine.’
‘See, I told you I didn’t know all the answers.’ She chuckled. ‘Really I don’t. I don’t think anyone does. I think we’re all fumbling our way through this…I’ve been so worried about getting this wrong, Lucy.’ She looked down at her hands folded perfectly in her lap.
‘It’s okay, I can handle it.’ My pulse quickened. Could I?
She dragged in a breath before continuing. ‘When I was fourteen, and my father was on his death bed, I found out he was like us.’
I whirled back in the seat, the shock rippling through me. I’d been born into this. All the times I questioned what was wrong with me and the answer lay in my genes. ‘Your dad was a dreamer?’
‘Well I suspect, because of what he said. “Dream well, Tessa, change the world.” I’d already been dreaming for a couple of years, so in some ways I knew what he was talking about. But change the world? In my dreams? For years after he died I felt like I failed to live up to his expectations. Then one day I did change the world. For one person at least.’
What the hell did that mean? I held my breath, the wind whispering faintly against the glass doors. I lifted a cushion onto my lap, snuggling into its meagre warmth.
Granny Tess spoke so softly I could barely hear her. ‘There was this girl at school who wore big thick glasses, and she hated it because kids used to tease her – grade twelve, would you believe, and kids still teasing about something like that. Anyhow, I dreamed she didn’t need them anymore, and I went to school the following day and her eyes were fixed.’ Granny Tess’s smile widened, pride evident in her eyes.
‘No way.’ I shook my head. I always wondered if it were possible; maybe that was why I always hoped so hard. But holy cow, I never expected that.
‘I know. Once I figured out what I was doing I couldn’t wait to do more. It was only small stuff, but huge to the people I helped. Sometimes I helped the homeless find a bed for the night. And I remember overhearing my uncle, he was a farmer, telling someone how much they needed rain. I made it rain.’
‘Why don’t you dream anymore? What changed?’
‘I don’t really know, they simply went away.’ She peered absently out into the fading light through the window behind me as if remembering something long gone.
‘Just like that?’ I couldn’t imagine my life without my dreams. As much as I hated them, they felt as fixed and sure as if they were another organ in my body. Sure, I’d love them gone, but how does the saying go…if you can’t beat ’em join ’em. Yeah, my life was made up of unavoidable resignation.
‘More or less. I grew up, stopped caring so much and they were gone.’ She shifted her gaze back to me.
‘Stopped caring?’
‘Yes. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? That’s why you dream in the first place, because you care.’
‘Not enough to save someone’s life.’ Sharing my irritation, the wind rose to a roar, whistling through the gutters and trees.
Granny Tess heaved out her own anguish. ‘No, maybe not. I tried once.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes.’ Sadness always made people look old, and right now with the lines etched on her forehead, the cracks pushing from the edges of her lips, and the distant stare in her eyes, Granny Tess looked old. ‘But there comes a time when even we must accept our limits.’
‘So why do I dream at all? What’s the point if it changes nothing?’ I slumped back in the chair.
‘I don’t know. But maybe this boy is the reason. Maybe you can help him. Or maybe he can help you? You said yourself you weren’t sure if he recognised you. What if he did, wouldn’t that mean something wonderful?’
‘Yeah, but when I mentioned the dreams he brushed it off.’
‘Have you ever sidestepped around something that makes you uncomfortable? Scared even?’ Only nearly every day. Could he be equally worried about being found out?
Telling Granny Tess didn’t help me understand as much as I’d hoped, but her insight did settle the nerves rumbling through me from the last two days, but by Sunday, knowing I’d be seeing Tyler again the next day, the tension returned.
The rain insisted on hanging around, but I didn’t care, I needed a run. I laced up my shoes, stuck in my earphones and bolted out the door.
Outside, with the wind in my hair and music in my ears, it allowed me time to process. My nose caught the full brunt of the frigid air rushing past me, and the rain pierced my face with an intensely satisfying bite. Feeling pain, real pain, reminded me I was alive, and that had always been more favourable than the alternative.
I ran past Tyler’s house. The ‘For Sale’ sign was gone and a large black pot with a spiky purple plant now sat beside the front door. Despite the recent rain and new owners, the dying lawn had yet to come back to life.
I gritted my teeth, a flood of turmoil returning, and charged up the hill, turning up the music. An old one, The Cat Empire’s ‘One Four Five’ blared in my ears. My muscles burned as I pushed myself and increased my speed. I left the road for my dirt track, the once crunchy, brown leaves now soft and slippery, adding a spring as my feet hit the ground.
I made it to the top of the hill, out into the clearing where the rain continued to fall, and my lip quivered from the cold that inched through my body, but I felt nothing except peace. Right until the harrowing thoughts from the past few days invaded my mind. But if all I got was a mo
ment, then that’s what I’d take. The starving didn’t scoff at a crumb of bread in the hope they’d soon see a loaf – not if all they’d known was a crumb.
I gathered my crumb and started back down the hill as the assaulting wind and rain pummelled down. But it took a lot more than a fierce deluge to hold me back. Determination drove me on. This week would be different. I knew what was coming. And regardless of what Tyler did or didn’t know, if there was a way I could help, even if I had to share my crumb, then that’s what I’d do.
— 7 —
Monday arrived and I psyched myself all morning for Geography. I could do this.
Shoulders back, I walked into class, my smile tucked in my pocket for when Tyler walked in the door. I could do approachable.
I slipped into my seat and waited. Students filed into the room, and half of them must’ve recently had P.E. because the stench of a Rexona factory wafted in behind them. I pressed my hands between my jiggling knees, eyes flitting to the door.
Mr Beck began the lesson, the drone of his voice trailed into the background. I scanned the room, maybe I missed his entrance.
I examined the backs of the heads. After only a few meetings with Tyler I’d easily recognise him from behind. I closed my eyes. He wasn’t there. My heart sank to the same depth as the wave washing me in relief. I exhaled with the slump of my shoulders.
Damn it. I was braced and ready for lift off. Now I’d need to diffuse all my inflated air, but at least I could breathe again.
At the end of the lesson I headed off to break, with the added bonus of being able to enjoy it with my crew in relative peace.
‘You guys all set for the weekend?’ Cal said, landing his broad frame onto the bench.
Sean slid in beside me. ‘Mate, you kidding? Course we are.’
It was a dumb question. We’d been hanging out for it for weeks, as usual. Cal’s parents owned a holiday house by the lake, a half hour’s drive north of Antil. The trip was a yearly tradition for Richie’s birthday, and this year it came at the beginning of two weeks of school holidays.
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