by jodi Gibson
As Tom drove the Ute toward the railway line, Laura noticed him glance at her out of the corner of his eye. An understanding passed between them, and no words were necessary as they slowly bumped over the tracks.
Moments later, Tom pulled up to the curb. ‘Do you want me to come in?’ he asked as he screeched the parking brake on.
‘No. I'll be okay.’ Laura shook her head and tore at the tissues between her fingers, small fragments puffing into the air. ‘Thanks, though,’ she said, managing a smile.
‘Okay. But you let me know if you need anything, all right? I'm still out on the farm. Well, for now …’
‘For now?’ Laura looked at Tom, his face awash with a faraway look.
‘Yeah, long story,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders, relighting his bright, familiar smile.
She wanted to ask more, show she still cared. But the right words escaped her. Her heart shrank a little with the thought that she never really did say goodbye to Tom when she left.
‘All right,’ Tom said, tapping his hands on the steering wheel. ‘Better get inside before those clouds open up.’ He pointed to the thickening gray clouds that had engulfed the sky from horizon to horizon.
Laura swallowed the wave of emotion rising to her throat and opened the door. ‘Thanks,’ she said, stepping onto the grass, the dandelions tickling at her ankles.
Tom tipped his hat and slowly drove away down the road.
Laura waved goodbye before turning and staring at the house, a deep ache inside of her reminding her that it was now empty.
Chapter 6
Cradling her cup of hot tea, Laura stepped out onto the back patio. It was early, not quite seven a.m., and the cool morning air nipped at Laura’s ears. Small puddles of water had gathered in the low spots of the yard after last night’s rain. And although the morning had brought patches of blue sky, dark clouds loomed ominously on the horizon. Laura pulled up an old outdoor chair, wiped off the beads of water with her sleeve, and sat down, her eyes wandering over the backyard.
The yard, once tended lovingly by Judy, was now sad and overgrown. The deserted chicken coop and broken woodshed were far from what they once were, both no doubt now home to many a huntsman and redback spider. Laura hated spiders. She’d inherited her fear from Judy. Boy, were they a sorry pair when a huntsman decided to pop into the house uninvited. It was a wonder their screams didn’t send the entire spider population of Banyula away for good.
Laura closed her eyes, imagining the yard as it used to be and conjuring the memories it brought. Digging in the vegetable patch with her own special garden fork and pink gardening gloves her mum had given her, bouncing on the trampoline, collecting the eggs from the chickens, which was always such an exciting experience. ‘An egg! An egg!’ she’d sing out excitedly to her mum.
Laura’s earliest memory was not long after her father had passed away. He was a truck driver. Faulty brakes, wet road, tree. She didn’t remember much of that time—she was only five—but she did remember her mum. The tears always close to the surface, spilling over each time she held Laura or kissed her goodnight. Her mum hardly got out of her dressing gown that winter. It was always pulled tight around her fading frame. Then one morning, as spring kissed the sky outside, her mother pulled on her jeans, cooked up a stack of pancakes, and announced they had to fix up the garden in preparation for a special delivery. Chickens!
Laura remembered her five-year-old legs running as fast as they could outside, tearing around the yard and giggling with Judy close behind, the smile Laura had missed so much taking over her mother’s face once again. They laughed and tickled, giggled and danced. That was the best sound in the world, her mother’s laugh.
Mum’s laughter, she thought. Something she’d never hear again.
Laura’s eyes filled with tears. She’d wasted so much time on anger and hurt. So much time refusing to let the past take any place in her present. Selfish. That was what she’d been. Too wrapped up in her own world, trying to make something of herself. Laura hmphed. Look how that turned out.
Laura’s sadness turned to anger. This time at her own mother, for not telling her about the cancer sooner. And at herself for not picking up on the signs. Why hadn’t I seen the signs?
A school bell rang in the distance and forced Laura to focus once again. It was time to say goodbye. To the house. And to Banyula. To the past. But the more she stared at the backyard, the more it tugged at her. Pulling her. Grounding her. Memories of her and Rachel spread out on colorful beach towels under the hot summer sun. The sweet smell of coconut oil lingering in the air suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Laura mentally pushed them aside. A run. That’s what she needed.
Laura pulled on her Nikes and headed out the front door. She avoided the Smythe Street rail crossing and headed west along the sleepy streets. It felt like it had been forever since she’d done any form of exercise, but she fought the initial burning in her throat and heaviness in her legs and fell into a slow jog. She’d usually have music or a podcast blaring in her ears to distract her from the city, but here she wanted to hear the morning.
Laura didn’t realize just how much she’d missed the early mornings in a country town. The tweeting of myriad birds somehow blending into a glorious symphonic chorus, and the rustle of the mint-colored eucalyptus leaves overhead were the only sounds. No tooting horns, no roads jammed with cars bumper to bumper, no dirty smog to inhale. Just clean, crisp, country air.
In a trancelike state, Laura concentrated on putting one foot in front of another, inhaling the sweetness of the familiar lemon-scented gums. She found herself on the outskirts of town in ten minutes. As she paused to catch her breath and massage her calf, which was hinting at cramping, Laura realized where she was. Stretching out before her was the vast, open plain of the cemetery. Gravestones dotted the expanse of green lawn in lonely remembrance. She bent over and leaned on her knees, inhaling deep, oxygen-filled breaths. Her lungs felt as if they were on fire.
Spur of the moment, Laura walked to the entrance of the cemetery. She’d just go and see her mum’s grave. See if any flowers that had been left needed attention. She made her way to the grave, where the freshly patted-down rusty clay was packed solid thanks to the overnight rain. As the sun crept over the east, Laura thought of the inscription her mother wanted on her headstone. The most wasted of all days is one without laughter. It was a quote from e e cummings, her mum’s favorite. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before the headstone was mounted. Laura leaned down and rearranged the bunches of flowers, whispering, ‘I miss you, Mum.’
She paused at the grave for a few moments, letting her eyes dry in the breeze. Inside, she felt lost. A little girl with no direction, yet she was almost twenty-eight years old. She’d spent so much time running without a finish line in sight. And now that she’d stopped, she’d lost sight of the finish altogether. Her thoughts began to unravel, each one ending with one single name: Ryan.
A wave of guilt washed over her as her mum’s words knocked at the back of her mind. Promise me you’ll say goodbye properly.
She didn’t even know where his grave was, but still she wandered up and down the manicured rows of the lawn cemetery, each one laid out with immaculate precision. It took her a good five minutes to locate Ryan’s headstone. It was located on the boundary fence under a lone Japanese maple, its fire-red leaves littering the small concrete plaque. Laura bent down and brushed off the leaves to read the simple font.
Ryan Adam Taylor
21 August 1992 – 7 November 2009
Loved son of William (dec) and Jane (dec)
Ryan. What happened that year had changed Laura forever.
Laura’s mind drifted back to the first time she skipped school with him and went down to the nearby river. She was so nervous she thought her heart was going to gallop right out of her chest in a mixture of excitement and the thrill of being caught. And the adrenaline. Ryan had asked her—nerdy, never-had-a-boyfriend Laura—to go to the river with him.
<
br /> Laura sat down, crossing her legs, the image of them sneaking out the rear gate of the school visualizing before her. She remembered how she had held her breath the whole way, until they reached the worn track leading to the river, only a few hundred meters away. Almost hyperventilating, she had finally sucked in some oxygen to fill her burning lungs and slow her racing heart.
‘You don’t do this often, hey?’ Ryan said, grabbing a handful of leaves off one of the river gums and scrunching them in his hand as they walked. Laura had to duck to escape the whip of the branch as it flicked back toward her.
A few minutes later they were down on the coarse sand at the river’s edge. The river was low thanks to an unusually dry spring season that had continued into summer, the current barely more than a trickle in some parts. Laura copied Ryan, taking off her shoes and socks and resting her feet in the shallows.
‘So, what do you do down here?’ Laura asked, looking around.
‘Nothin’ much. Depends who I’m with.’ He grinned at Laura, his green eyes squinting in the sun. Laura was thankful her cheeks were already colored from the rush of skipping school to hide her embarrassment.
They sat there for a few minutes, the silence between them filled by the chattering of birds above and the gentle ripple of the river as it trickled over stone riverbed in front of them. Laura’s mind started to wander. Her thoughts chided her for skipping school. What was she thinking coming down to the river with Ryan Taylor?
‘Seen any good movies lately?’ Ryan broke into her thoughts.
‘Um, well, Rachel and I watched The Proposal on the weekend.’
‘Oh yeah, cool.’
‘It was pretty good,’ Laura said, throwing a rock into the river and watching the ripple on top of the water.
‘You seen The Fast and the Furious?’
Laura twisted her lips as she thought, then shook her head. ‘Don’t think so.’
‘It’s probably more of a guys’ movie. Lots of car chases and shit.’
‘Hey, don’t judge me! My favorite movie is The Terminator, you know.’
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? Well I’m impressed. And I’m not judging. I get a lot o’ that myself.’
There was a pain to Ryan’s comment. ‘Yeah, I guess you do.’
‘People think that just ’cause I act up a bit, I’m a loser.’
‘Well, I guess it doesn’t help you playing it up all the time.’ Laura was surprised at how casual she was with him, but something about him made her feel oddly comfortable.
‘I’m just playing a role. Someone’s gotta make life interesting ’round here.’ He sighed.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Laura. He looked a million miles away, as if shuffling through years of memories to find what he was looking for. Lost. He seemed to ignore the question, so Laura didn’t push it further.
‘It’s just you and your gran, isn’t it?’ Laura asked.
Ryan’s eyes shot across to Laura, and she suddenly felt she’d hit a nerve. She wished she could rewind three seconds.
‘Yeah.’
‘It’s only me and my mum. My dad died when I was five. Truck accident,’ Laura said, wishing she had more memories of her dad, but she was way too young. All she had were photographs and stories her mum told her. She didn’t really miss him as such, just missed the opportunity of having a dad. But really, her mum was all she knew.
‘That sucks.’ Ryan dug his heels into the sand in front of him. ‘My folks died when I was a baby. I don’t remember them.’
‘What happened?’
‘House fire.’
‘Shit. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. Not your fault.’ Ryan smiled at her. ‘No one’s ever asked me what happened to them before.’
Laura’s heart skipped. She’d done the wrong thing. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, as Ryan was quick to respond.
‘Nah, it’s okay,’ he said lightly. ‘It’s kinda nice.’
Laura’s eyes caught Ryan as he looked at her, and for a split second she thought he was going to kiss her. Her heart thrashed with nerves that made her jump up to her feet. She kicked her feet in the water and turned away from Ryan. She’d never felt this nervous before. She’d had little experience with boys. A random kiss—more of a peck—at the school disco last year, but that was about it. Unless you counted Tom. But that was just child’s play when they were ten years old, mucking about at Tom’s farm as they often did. They’d never spoken of the two-second peck since.
‘Guess we’d better head back,’ Ryan said, sliding his socks on and tying the laces on his sneakers. Laura noticed he used the bunny ear method like she did.
‘But we still have ten minutes?’ Laura said, looking at her watch.
‘You gotta do this properly.’ He laughed. ‘You gotta get back before the bell so it looks like you were never gone!’
Laura blushed. There was something so purely innocent about Ryan’s smile. It made Laura’s insides turn to water.
Laura remembered how for the rest of the day she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, so excited to tell Tom and Rachel after school. But now, Laura’s hands began to shake as the memory became blurred by those from later that year. When Ryan’s smile faded and a darkness clouded his eyes.
She picked up a leaf from Ryan’s headstone as tears fell down her face, all the pent-up emotions too much to hold inside any longer. Why Ryan? Why? It was a question she had asked so many times. Not to anyone. Just to herself. Usually during the long, dark, sleepless nights following his death. Still in shock and unsure of anything, Laura would lie in bed staring into the nothingness, feeling much the same inside. Her cloudy memories crashed into themselves as she lay there, unsure of what was real and what wasn’t, so she did the only thing that made her stop feeling. She locked them away in a box at the back of her mind and concentrated on forgetting.
Now, sitting here in the quiet of the autumn morning next to Ryan’s grave, her memories began to move from black-and-white to color. She remembered the few months they were together had been fraught with a melting pot of emotions. Moments of perfection sat alongside instants of hurt. Days where she thought happiness would burst from her insides, and other days where the dark clouds of angst and confusion hovered over them both. Ryan could move from affectionate to distant in the blink of an eye. The memories were so visceral. Every emotion crawled over Laura’s skin. She shivered and looked toward the sky, as if it held the answers to the questions she’d tried to push aside for years. But all it held now was a foreboding darkness that had swallowed the morning sun whole.
Checking the weather app on her phone, Laura saw patches of yellow and orange on the radar; heavy rain was coming. At that moment, as if a sign, the wind whipped up the maple leaves into a whirlwind of crimson red. Laura jumped to her feet and began to run, hoping she’d make it home before the downpour.
Chapter 7
Laura threw the heavy garbage bag into the bin. The past few days she’d spent emptying cupboards, packing boxes, and shifting between sadness and fond memories. Stella had called around a few times to give her a hand, bringing with her casseroles and slices, which was good, because the last thing Laura had felt like doing was cooking.
Laura had spent the rest of the morning cleaning out the laundry and bathroom cupboards. But now the rain had eased off, Laura decided to make a start on the backyard. She needed some fresh air. She gathered a few tools from the shed and began tackling what once was the vegetable patch, now overgrown with marshmallow weed and curly dock. The rain had at least made it easier to pull them out.
‘Hey,’ a voice broke through the sound of weeds being ripped from the soil, and Laura sprang up from her position on all fours to see Tom leaning over the side gate, his wide toothy grin taking up most of his face.
‘Oh my god, you scared the life out of me!’ she said, trying to brush off the wet dirt that covered her hands and had soiled the knees of her jeans.
Tom laughed. ‘Sorry, Lauz.
Been working hard?’ He nodded toward the pile of limp weeds gathered near Laura's feet.
‘Yeah, it's a big job,’ she replied, surveying the vegetable patch that now looked slightly better than when she’d started. ‘But someone's gotta do it!’
‘Want some help?’
‘Oh, no. It's fine. I'm sure you've got your hands full with the farm and everything.’
‘Nah. It's cool. Got the farmhands out today checking the fences. I can spare an hour or two. I've even got a few tools in the back o’ the Ute. I'll go grab ’em.’ Tom disappeared out of sight down the driveway.
A few moments later he reappeared carrying a shovel and pitchfork. ‘I came prepared,’ he said, unlatching the gate.
A smile crept across Laura's face. Of all the people she'd left behind after Ryan's death besides her mum, Tom was the one she had missed the most. He had always been there for her. Ever since they were kids running around his farm chasing Bessie, his beloved golden retriever, Tom had been there for everything. He picked up the pieces every time Laura fought with Ryan that fateful year.
Ryan. Laura had tried so hard not to think of him, but everywhere she looked, she saw him. Sitting on the back steps, walking up the front path, outside her bedroom window …
‘Tom, you really don't have to,’ she said, regaining her composure.
‘Shut up and get to work.’ He smiled and handed Laura the pitchfork.
An hour later, they stood back and observed their progress. The vegetable patch was weed free, the black soil turned over loosely and the organics bin overflowing with weeds and pruning. The garden bed along the back fence actually looked like a garden bed again rather than a mass of tangled plants. It was almost starting to resemble the backyard Laura remembered.
