Double Dare

by Murray Peterson

  Her dad winced and screamed, “Don’t take it out on this old timer.”

  “What, you or the car?”

  “Both.”

  She sighed and dropped the greasy tool, the repeated clanking jarring her nerves. “I can’t do it. I can’t bear to find out why he’s ignoring me, what if…” she trailed off, there were so many scenarios and none of them were good.

  “Do you want me to come too? I could give him a kick up the arse.” She shook her head knowing there was nothing metaphoric about what he just said.

  “If anyone is doing the kicking, it’ll be me.”

  *****

  A strange combination of disappointment and relief swept through her at the sight of their empty driveway. Helena decided to go in and snoop. It technically wasn’t wrong, as it was still half her place. Nevertheless, she held her breath as she went inside. The house seemed so empty without Jim. Helena was so used to him being there, laughing, joking, yelling and stomping around. The silence continued as she went from room to room looking for clues as to why he might have been ignoring her. The kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes and his washing basket was overflowing. His bed wasn’t made, everything was even messier than normal. She shook her head. He was hopeless without her.

  Helena went to the notepad on the fridge to leave a polite reminder for Jim to call her when she saw something strange. There, across the notepad, was a bright red thumbprint. She smiled and pressed her own thumb across it. Laughing, she headed out the back and there, as she hoped, she found a tray of used paintbrushes. Funny that she hadn’t seen any new artworks in the house, Jim loved flaunting his latest masterpieces. On a hunch, she went to the rusty old shed. Helena yanked the latch across then opened the door and couldn’t believe what she saw.

  “What you doing?” asked a high-pitched voice behind her.

  Helena jumped and swung the door shut, pulling the latch over then turning to face Kelly who approached rapidly. “Nothing, nothing,” Helena lied and worked hard to push back the unbidden tears.

  Kelly eyed her curiously, “Are you looking for Jim?”

  Helena supposed that was close enough to the truth and nodded. “Bloody hay fever, though,” Helena said rubbing her eyes.

  Kelly looked at her, and asked, “Do you need a tissue?”

  “No worries, I’ll get it from the house.” Helena headed up the back steps, Kelly went to follow her but hesitated a moment.

  Helena understood Kelly’s curiosity was piqued and managed a panicked, “How’s the wedding plans going?” At that Kelly turned and followed her into the house, beginning to talk at a high rate about everything from dresses to flowers, from music to suits. All Helena could do was continue wiping the tears from her eyes, hoping she had done enough to distract Kelly away from the shed, and away from the paintings.

  Chapter 19

  Aqua, teal, crimson, coral and peach. Jim checked the bag and then drove on, yes, all the tubes of paint were there and accounted for. A light sweat beaded on his brow. He squinted at the late afternoon sun beaming between the flowering jacarandas. He ignored the light-headedness as he drove. There was not far to go, then he could begin his next painting, his next attempt at the impossible.

  From a distance, he saw that there were two cars in the driveway; Kelly’s and Hels’. He thought about not stopping, avoiding them for a little longer, but felt too weak to spend the evening driving around waiting for the cars to go. Well, at least for Kelly’s to go. He had been unable to spend much time with Kelly since the day of his alleged proposal. Which, by the way, still didn’t make any sense. Why would he call her a shepherd and annoying and ask her to marry him? Yes, maybe she was a little annoying, but she was nothing compared to Hels, and a shepherd? It must have been some pretty strong scotch. Kelly had been leaving messages and calling to talk about the wedding, and Jim had done his best to keep her at arm’s distance, but knew she would turn up sooner or later—but why did it have to be right now? He coughed into his hand as he parked roughly on their overgrown lawn. Jim braced himself, grabbed his bag of oils and walked stiffly into the house. This was not how he wanted to spend his evening.

  Two pairs of angry eyes greeted Jim as he walked in the door. They had been talking, or at least Kelly had, but upon his arrival, silence hung thick in the air. He noticed two things in the muted moments that followed: One, Hels was upset. He thought maybe she had been crying and it didn’t seem she had made any effort to hide it. This was bad, very bad. Her refusal to hold his stare left him cold and he knew it wasn’t just his fever. Two, Jim noticed there were the black stains running up her arms, just like when she was a teenager. He surmised she had been helping her father in his garage. Jim felt himself transforming back into the teenage boy who had looked at Hels with a mix of awe and adoration. She had been invincible then, so strong, so proud, and now, she was so much more. He remembered how he used to watch her out of the corner of his eyes, how he’d tried to act indifferent in their friendship group. Then there was the dark times, when he had gotten sick. He had been bald, gained loads of weight (thanks to the steroid medication) and would have become a complete recluse during those dark times if it weren’t for Hels. Not once had she pitied him or allowed him to be anything but Jim.

  “So… My fiancé, where have you been?” Kelly asked. Hels looked up at Jim, the question etched in her own puffy eyes.

  “I’ve got the flu, sorry, it’s just caught me off guard. I was going to call you… Both of you.”

  Kelly folded her arms, “You’ve had the flu for two weeks?”

  “I’ve had lots on.” Jim propped himself up on the back of an armchair.

  “Are you okay?” Hels asked.

  He smiled, shrugged, and returned the question, “Yeah, what about you?”

  “Just hay fever,” she lied.

  He raised an eyebrow curiously, Hels had never had hay fever before. He decided to let it slide. Jim knew he should have returned her calls. Things were getting so complicated, and now something had upset her. He hoped it wasn’t him.

  Kelly stood up, “So when are we going to plan this wedding?”

  “After Bali.”

  “You’re not still going?” Kelly’s face was like stone.

  He tried to remain calm. “Why not?”

  “We’re engaged, and I mean, you’re really not that well.”

  “Hels and I planned this trip before you and I were even together. I’ll be fine.”

  Kelly looked to Helena for support. Helena shrugged, “I could use the break, it’s only a few days. I can keep an eye on Jim.”

  Kelly saved her angry face for Jim and grabbed her keys, “Well, I hope you get better for your trip. Since it is so important to you.”

  Then she was gone. The door slam was pretty mild, no doubt reigned in because of Helena’s presence. Then they were alone.

  Hels was first to speak, “So, we are still going?”

  Jim flopped into the armchair putting down his bag next to him and finally let the fatigue takeover. “I’m still game.”

  She nodded. “Let’s hope you’re better… I don’t want to sit on a plane with you like this for six hours,” she said.

  “I’ll be better in no time. Are you alright?”

  She looked down in obvious embarrassment. “I’m okay. I just wish you’d let me know what was going on. I messaged and called.” Hels didn’t seem angry and he wasn’t sure how to respond. Jim tried to keep his tone light.

  “We’ve already had this conversation, only I was the one saying that.”

  She was unimpressed by the irony, “Are you making a point? Is that why?”

  He held up a hand in surrender. “No, course not, I’ve been sick, sorry, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Why not?” she asked defiantly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What’s the big deal, why wouldn’t you just ignore me for a few days? I’m only a friend.”

  He reserved his energy and resorted to sarcasm, �
��Yes Hels, you’re only a friend, that’s all you are, just a name in my phone, just some random on Facebook.”

  “Then what am I, Jim? What am I to you?” He could see fresh tears reforming in her eyes and surprisingly felt a similar welling in his own. Damn his oversensitivity.

  “You’re Hels. You’re the only thing good in my world, I don’t know. What do you want to be?”

  She let out a deep breath and shook her head rapidly as though ready to burst. Hels looked him hard in the eyes, “What’s in the bag, Jim?”

  “Oh, nothing really.” He tried to stay calm.

  “What’s in the fucking bag, Jim?” she exploded out of her chair and grabbed the bag. Instinctively, he grabbed for it too. The plastic bag tore in half, the tubes of paint flopped onto the floor.

  “Oh paint,” she said bitterly. “What are you painting, Jim?”

  He stared at the different colours on the floor, reading their names to himself. She grabbed his shoulder, snapping him back to the moment and forcing him to look into her stormy blue eyes. “What are you painting?” she whispered.

  The light-headedness returned, but he refused to show it. Helena’s eyes searched his. Whatever strength he had left, he put into his next few words. Carefully, Jim replied, “The only good thing in my world.”

  She pulled him closer to her, their faces centimetres apart. She saw his perspiration, his fatigue and released her grip.

  Jim collapsed back into the armchair’s side. He hoped she hadn’t noticed his grimace. Hels stood over Jim watching him carefully. “And you think I’m annoying?” He smiled up at her, his teeth beginning to chatter with fever. Jim put his hand over his mouth embarrassed. Instinctively, Helena felt his forehead and tut-tutted him. “Bloody hell Jim, you really are sick.”

  “I told you.”

  “Smart arse,” she said, then she bent down and took off his shoes.

  “What are you doing?”

  She squeezed his feet and smiled, “Taking care of you, do you have a problem with that?” He couldn’t help but smile as his teeth continued chattering uncontrollably.

  Chapter 20

  The following few days were unlike anything Jim had experienced before. Helena cooked, cleaned and fussed over him, channelling all her frustration into his care. Though not the world’s greatest cook, she could manage a mean chicken noodle soup and was happy to bring him blankets and cool packs depending on his personal thermostat. She sat with him, watched TV with him, fell asleep with him; often they would wake, unable to remember when and where they had fallen asleep. They talked, not about paintings, weddings or work, but instead traded memories of adventures and shenanigans they got up to together as kids. They talked about their hopes and dreams, about regrets, about things they missed and those they didn’t.

  The day before they were due to fly out, Jim was finally on the mend. Despite his improving health both seemed unhappy with the change. Helena struggled to find excuses to get close to Jim and he wouldn’t ask for help when none was needed. Helena washed the last of his germy clothes and blankets and sat in the kitchen holding a half full coffee mug to her cheek.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She smiled behind the mug, “Hey.”

  “It’s finished. Do you want to see it?”

  She put down the mug and followed him outside and down the path. The last time she’d opened the shed door, the barrage of paintings of a red haired, blue-eyed girl had been overwhelming. There had been so many painted images of her, ones of her smiling, laughing, crying. Memories she had forgotten, resurrected before her very eyes. There was her catching a fish at the Mandurah jetty, riding her bike in her favourite Roxy hoodie, fixing Jim’s first car, dancing at a club.

  This time she was prepared. Helena inhaled sharply, bracing herself as the door swung open. Blankets hung over the walls of the shed, there was only one painting visible. It stood proudly on an old wooden easel in the centre of the room. She walked closer to it. She examined the painting of herself in a black dress. She struggled to assimilate her own self-perception and that of Jim’s. Painted Helena looked stunningly beautiful. She had a radiant smile, both self-deprecating and glowing at the same time. Her eyes sparkled blue and white, like the sun reflecting on the ocean. The girl in the painting held herself proudly, her look one of supreme confidence. She tried to clear the lump from her throat, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Do you like it?” he asked quietly. Helena tried to find the words to answer, but could not. “Oh, I guess it’s not my best—”

  “Shut up,” she blurted out. “It’s beautiful, she’s beautiful. It’s just not me.”

  He put a protective arm around her shoulder. “Hey, I know every freckle on your face, every line. That’s you from a few weeks ago.”

  She rested her head on his shoulders, “But she’s so pretty.”

  “Inside and out,” he whispered and caught her eye. Helena put one arm around Jim and held him close. She couldn’t help but snuggle into him, resting the side of her face against his neck. She saw his Adam’s apple move up and down as he cleared his throat nervously. His arm around her made her feel safe, but she wanted to feel safer yet. She put her other arm around his waist encircling him fully. Time stretched as they stood together staring at the painting, neither willing to move closer yet not able to move away.

  Helena was the first to break the silence. “Is that really how you see me, Jim?”

  He smiled at her, “No. I could never do you justice. Just a couple strokes of paint, the real thing is much more impressive.”

  There it was, the most romantic thing anyone would ever say to Helena and the only thing left to do was kiss him. She shifted her face and could see him watching her from the corner of his eye. She moved even closer. They were cheek to cheek. She could feel the rapid rise of his chest and knew he felt as she did, now, without any shadow of a doubt: he loved her. Helena smiled and moved ever so slightly closer, inviting him to keep going, keep moving closer. Jim’s eyes finally met hers, she saw the adoration, the boundless love as well as the heat of desire.

  “Hels,” he whispered unable to keep that gorgeous, stupid grin from his face. She couldn’t help but return the smile. Here, they were completely honest, no more games, no more confusion. She leaned in.

  “I…” he began, but was interrupted, and not by the kiss she had so wanted to plant on his sweet mouth, but the voice of Kelly screaming out at the top of her lungs, “Jimmy, are you in the shed?”

  *****

  There should have been an instinctive release, but neither moved.

  “Jim!”

  It was like a game of chicken. Their eyes stared, willing the other to let go. But neither of them wanted to let go, not now, not ever. The shed door cracked open and Kelly burst in. “Couldn’t you hear me calling?”

  Jim looked up from the paint pots he was stacking. “Sorry, what? The flu has mucked up my ears. Hels was talking about some car stuff. Weren’t you Hels?”

  Helena agreed quickly, “I’m trying to convince Jim here that he should upgrade to a Holden Commodore, but he thinks his precious old Falcon will last forever.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it,” Jim argued instinctively.

  “There will be.”

  “Stop, both of you,” Kelly scolded using her high-pitched teacher voice. “I’ve been thinking, I’m actually not okay with you two going away together.” She paused to view their reactions. Neither said anything. “I keep remembering how you two kissed at that dinner party, and I’m sorry, but I would be an idiot to let you go together.”

  “Let me go?” Jim clarified.

  Kelly pushed her nose into the air. “Yes. When you proposed marriage to me you were putting us first, putting me first. I mean, how would you like it if I went travelling with one of my exes?”

  “We’re not exes. We’re just friends,” Helena said.

  “That’s even worse,” Kelly snapped. Helena, though not averse to a good yelling match, decided this w
as not her battle to fight. She walked out of the shed rolling her eyes. Over her shoulder, she heard Kelly’s whining voice saying, “Did you see that? She just rolled her eyes at me.”

  Jim was a grown man; he could fight his own battles. She still couldn’t understand why he didn’t just tell Kelly where to stick it. It wasn’t like he had no alternatives. If she was any clearer on her intentions, she would have a huge blinking sign above her head that read ‘I love Jim’. One thing was for certain, she was going to Bali, and if Jim wanted to join her, he was more than welcome. It was a simple equation, one even he could solve.

  Yet, the next day, she was amazed at his ability to complicate even the simplest of equations.

  Chapter 21

  The icy pool water cooled Helena, body and soul. Her temper dipped below a hundred degrees for the first time all day and she lent up on the side of the pool to watch the sun set over the Indian Ocean. She had decided things weren’t quite as bad as they seemed. Sure, Kelly had shown up at the airport—she had decided if she couldn’t stop them, she would join them. She had booked herself into the same hotel and was determined to stick to Jim like glue, but Helena wasn’t going to let it bother her. Well, not too much.

  She swam over to the pool bar, and the young Indonesian barman smiled at her. “What can I get you, miss?”

  “A bullet,” she joked. He looked concerned—he had no idea what she was talking about. She shook her head to indicate that she wasn’t serious. “Got any Bintang?”

  He didn’t even ask her room number, just handed her an ice-cold beer. She thanked him and swam to an underwater stool nearby. As she sat there watching the bright orange sky with a beer in the pool, she decided she would make the best of this. If Jim didn’t have the balls to get rid of Kelly, it wasn’t Helena’s fault, why should she feel like shit because he would be spending time with his fiancée and not her? He was a grown man, and he could make his own decisions. Helena left the beer on the pool bar and dipped her head under the water, her red hair flowing like lava in all directions before imploding as she resurfaced. No, she would make the best of this trip, she would have fun. She wasn’t going to pine or sulk. She would enjoy every moment, with or without Jim.