The Memories We Hide

by jodi Gibson

  Mrs. Lincoln put a cup of tea in front of Laura and sat down next to her.

  Laura took a sip of her tea, the steam dampening her nose. Placing the cup back on the table, Laura searched for what to say. ‘Mrs. Lincoln, I …’

  ‘It's okay,’ Mrs. Lincoln said, placing a veined hand on top of Laura's. ‘You don't need to say anything. I wish things had turned out differently for you. For you all. Especially for Ryan. And I know you do too. I don't know how many sleepless nights I had blaming myself for everything.’

  Laura's brow furrowed. ’You have nothing to blame yourself for! Ryan thought the world of you.’

  ‘I know. He was a good kid. Wasn’t he?’ Mrs. Lincoln asked Laura, as if wanting reassurance.

  ‘Yeah, he was.’

  ‘I mean he had his moments. I know that. And well,’ she sighed, ‘he just, ah, lost his way.’

  ‘I can’t help thinking I should have done more. Been there more for him or something. Stayed with him after the party. Maybe then he’d still be here,’ Laura said, staring into her tea.

  ‘Laura, honey, you can’t think that way. None of us can. I mean, I should have been more attentive, you know? Seen the signs.’ She wiped away some crumbs off the table with the back of her hand. ‘Tarred with the same brush. Well, that's what he thought. But it could have been different. If he'd just had some help. If I'd stepped in and found the help for him …’

  Laura's shoulders tensed. ‘What do you mean?’

  Mrs. Lincoln tilted her head to the side. ‘How much did he tell you?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘His parents.’

  Laura shifted in her seat, cupping her mug. ‘Not a lot, just that they died in an accident when he was younger.’

  Mrs. Lincoln’s shoulders fell, and she shook her head. ‘I should have known as much,’ she said. ‘Tried to deal with it all himself, as usual.’

  ‘I don’t quite understand,’ said Laura.

  Mrs. Lincoln stood up from the table and left the room, leaving Laura feeling uneasy. Moments later she returned with a tattered notebook. Laura remembered the standard-issue notebooks from school. The ones with the colored world map on the front and times tables on the back. This one was scribbled over in abstract patterns of black ink—Ryan’s patterns. She’d recognize them anywhere. Laura felt shivers rush over her arms, and she tensed in her seat.

  Mrs. Lincoln sat down and held the book close to her chest. ‘I always knew Ryan wasn’t one to share his emotions. I thought he might have to you though. I’m guessing not.’ She smacked her lips again. ‘Well, that was our Ryan. Here,’ she said, sliding the book across the table. ‘This was Ryan's journal. I found it under his bed when I was…,’ Mrs. Lincoln continued clearing her throat, ‘cleaning up his room. I couldn't bring myself to go in there for months after it happened. And then, when I found it. It was all too late. It was no use to anyone. Except maybe you. Your mum told me how hard you'd taken it, and after reading this, I knew why.’ She shook her head again. ‘Ryan made some bad decisions, but at least if you read this, maybe you can understand why. It's not an excuse for what he did, but well … just read it for yourself.’ She pushed the book toward Laura.

  Laura stared at the worn corners and ran her fingers over the softened cover and deep indentations made by the pen. She wanted to grab it and pull it up to her nose. Embrace it. Inhale Ryan once more. ‘I … I don't know if I can,’ she mumbled, her voice catching in her throat.

  ‘Laura, it had been brewing for such a long time. Longer than I ever imagined. I thought after we moved here, I could just move on. Start fresh. I was naïve. I never gave it a thought that Ryan would want to know the truth. I didn’t think it would serve him, only hurt him. I was right in the end. But I was wrong for not being upfront with him sooner.’

  Laura’s tears welled, a look of confusion on her face, unsure of what Mrs. Lincoln was trying to tell her.

  ‘Ryan’s father was sick. Mentally ill. He cracked one day and took my Jane with him. I am only so grateful Ryan wasn’t there too.’

  Laura’s hand shot to her mouth. ‘Oh my god,’ she whispered.

  Mrs. Lincoln nodded. ‘Ryan was such a beautiful boy. I do blame myself, but I can’t fixate on it either. I’ve come to terms with it. I know I did what I thought was best. I mean, in my day, it was all different. You kept all that stuff private. I didn’t know what else to do. I only wish …’

  Laura reached over and embraced Mrs. Lincoln, the two of them sharing in the heartbreak of loss, grief, and a mutual longing to change the past.

  A few moments later, Mrs. Lincoln regained her composure. ‘Here, take it with you. Read it when you're ready. He cared for you, Laura. If anything, I want you to know that, and maybe, to remember him. In the good times.’ Mrs. Lincoln pulled a hanky from her sleeve and blew her nose, then stretched out her fingers with a grimace. ‘Damn arthritis. Can't even blow my own nose,’ she said, letting out a deep, husky laugh before allowing her tears to fall freely. Laura reached across the table to hold her hands, her own tears spilling from her eyes.

  ‘Come on.’ Mrs. Lincoln smiled. ‘Drink your tea. Nothing worse than cold tea.’

  Chapter 15

  When Laura arrived home, she sat down cross-legged on the living room floor and placed the journal in front of her on the carpet. Her heart thumped beneath her chest, echoing loudly in her head. She swallowed to calm her nerves; the sound of her uneven breathing permeated the air around her. Laura picked up the journal, pulled it toward her face and fanned through the pages, closing her eyes and feeling the cool air and the ever-so-subtle smell of Ryan—his shampoo, his aftershave, his warmth.

  A photograph, its edges slightly worn, dropped into her lap. She picked it up. On the back, in Ryan’s black handwriting, it simply read: Us. She turned over the photo, and saw the faces of herself, Ryan, Tom, and Rachel staring back at her. The foursome were sitting on the back of the farm Ute at Tom's. Laura stared at the photo as the memory of that day appeared, hazy at first, before materializing into vivid color. It was not long after Ryan had asked Laura out. The three of them had been helping Tom clean out the old chicken coop and move the chickens to their new home that Tom had spent the last two weekends building. The afternoon had been spent in raucous fashion. Tumbling over each other, throwing handfuls of straw and feathers, and laughing until they gasped for air. By the end of the chore, they were covered in a sour mix of sweat, feathers, and dirt, the autumn sunshine warm on their faces. Laura remembered Tom's mum barreled over laughing at the sight of them all, and his dad shaking his head with a broad smile. Mrs. Gordon had gone inside and returned with her camera, insisting on getting a photo of the four of them. They piled into the back of the Ute, shaking with laughter, so much so that they couldn't sit still. The edges of their faces smiling out from the photo were slightly blurred, but the happiness of that moment was in sharp focus, evident by the carefree smiles, squinting eyes, and arms entangled over each other’s shoulders.

  Laura traced over the photo with her forefinger. The memory seemed so distant, almost surreal, as if those days had been blown away with the storm that passed through later that night. Laura caught her breath as hot tears trickled from her eyes. Not long after that photo, life changed. Relationships became murky with emotions, hormones, and the confusions of youth. They were just kids. Kids turning into adults trying to find their way, memories of childhood fading with the dust and feathers. Laura felt the loss deep within the crevices of her body. It tightened her chest, making her limbs heavy and lifeless. She placed the photo carefully beside her and picked up the journal and opened to the first page, wiping her eyes as the first words came into focus:

  Last night I asked Laura out. She said yes.

  Chapter 16

  Ryan’s Journal

  22 February 2009

  Last night I asked Laura out. She said yes. I was so nervous when I asked her. I can’t believe she said yes. There’s something about her that’s different from the
other girls. Like she doesn’t judge me or something. I’ve liked her for a while but never thought she’d notice someone like me. The someone who isn’t Ryan Taylor the class clown. Then, a few days ago, I convinced her to skip class with me. I was surprised she did. She’s a bit of a good girl, follows the rules and stuff. But I think that’s what I like about her. Testing her out. Seeing how far she’ll go. We went down the river, and we sat there and just talked. It was good. I guess I felt like she was really listening to me. Like the real me. She saw past the clowning around and the rebellious stuff. It was like she really wanted to know me. A few days later, she asked if I wanted to go out to Tom’s farm with her and Rachel.

  It was different being with them at Tom’s farm. They all sort of made me feel like one of their gang. Well, Laura and Rachel did, anyway. I’m not sure what Tom thinks of me. I think maybe he thinks I’m moving in to take over or something. It’s not that he wasn’t cool about it. I dunno. It’s just a feeling I got. Mostly he was cool though. Rachel seems pretty cool too. I don’t really know much about her, but she seems nice. I reckon she was flirting with me at the river though. She saw me when I was watching her take off her top to go swimming. I didn’t mean to be looking. And then she wanted me to come in for a swim. But I didn’t. I was into Laura. I waited for the right moment to get her alone, and then I kissed her. She had soft lips. Warm. Her skin was so soft. It took all my strength not to do anything else. I had to be a gentleman. Gran taught me that.

  Even though it was nice, the kiss, I mean, it wasn’t like in the movies. It wasn’t like all tingles and fireworks and stuff. It felt right, though, if that makes sense. Like it was meant to happen. I know that sounds all woo-woo and shit, but I really like her. And I think she likes me. She must, because she said yes when I asked her out. I blurted it out really stupid like. Got all tongue twisted or something. I really thought I’d blown it, but after a minute, she said yes.

  Laura closed the book and squeezed her eyes tight. Ryan’s words seemed so simple. She remembered that night like it was yesterday. She remembered the river, the sounds of the crickets, the warmth of the summer night air, the electric feeling that jolted through her when Ryan asked her out. She shuffled through the memories in her head and pressed play on the events of that day.

  Laura’s bike skidded along Tom’s gravel driveway, whipping up the dust. She felt it settle on her skin, sticking to the sweat seeping out of every pore.

  ‘How long till you get your license, Ryan?’ Rachel yelled as they neared Tom’s farmhouse, her voice wobbly from the rough terrain.

  ‘Still five months away!’ Ryan laughed.

  The afternoon sun was sinking in the west, its last long rays still burning the already parched fields. It was mid-March, and this was likely to be the last heat wave for the summer. Laura, Rachel, Ryan, and Tom had planned on making the most of it by the river on Tom’s farm. As they reached the farmhouse, they leaned their bikes against the tired date palm that towered over the ramshackle weatherboard house. The threesome wandered up the concrete path to the front door, Laura avoiding the cracks. Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.

  Tom’s family farm was like Laura’s second home. Her mum and Mrs. Gordon were friends through the Country Women’s Association, and Laura had spent many weekends and school holidays hanging out with Tom. The days felt longer out on the farm, and she loved how Mrs. Gordon always welcomed her with a smile.

  ‘Hiya!’ Tom’s mum yelled as they clattered down the hallway. The timber boards creaked under their feet as they made their way to the kitchen.

  ‘Hi, Mrs. G,’ Rachel and Laura chorused in unison.

  ‘Hi girls. And who’s this?’ Mrs. Gordon said, gesturing to Ryan, who was lagging behind Laura and peering out from behind his fringe.

  ‘This is Ryan,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Hi, Mrs. Gordon, thanks for having me,’ Ryan said. Laura blushed.

  ‘Hi, Ryan. Good to meet you. Tom’s out the back; he’s just finished feeding the dogs,’ Mrs. Gordon said as she continued preparing a salad. ‘And, yes, grab a muffin,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I can see you eyeing them.’

  The three of them leaped at the blueberry muffins sitting on the bench still in the tray, the warm smell making Laura’s mouth water.

  ‘And grab a drink from the fridge out back. It’s hot as Hades today.’

  Once outside, they grabbed a can of Coke each and went out to find Tom hosing down the back of the farm Ute.

  Tom’s grin broadened as he saw them approach. He looked good with his short hair curling over his ears and his white teeth contrasting against his nut-brown summer skin.

  Turning off the hose and wiping his wet hands down the front of his grubby jeans, Tom beamed. ‘Party time!’ he cheered. ‘Mum’s made us some salad and cold meat stuff. And I’ve got some coldies in the esky.’

  ‘All right!’ Rachel high-fived Tom as he jumped off the back of the Ute. ‘Let’s do this.’

  Ten minutes later, Tom pulled the farm Ute up to the bank of the river that snaked through the property. It was a touch cooler under the shadows of the tall gums.

  They threw a couple of towels on the sand, and Rachel switched her iPod onto shuffle as the sun melted into the ranges on the horizon.

  Laura pulled her long brown hair messily into a ponytail to cool the back of her neck and sprayed herself with mosquito repellent before grabbing a beer out of the cooler. She sat down next to Ryan on the blanket. It had been Rachel’s idea to ask him to come along. Laura was hesitant, still feeling nervous after their time at the river. It was almost like she didn’t want to share the time they’d had, worried it wouldn’t be the same, but Ryan was keen to come.

  ‘So, how’d you do on the English test?’ Laura asked Ryan.

  ‘Yeah, I dunno. All right, I reckon. That Mr. Cooper’s an arsehole though,’ Ryan said, rolling his eyes.

  ‘Oh, you got Coops! Man that sucks,’ Tom said, perched on the cooler, shaking his head.

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘I had him last year. Broke my balls.’

  The foursome chatted and laughed about school and the latest gossip, and before Laura knew it, the sun had almost disappeared. The twilight made everything appear like an overexposed Polaroid in hues of burnt orange. Laura glanced at Ryan out of the corner of her eye, noticing how the orange glow highlighted his tan face. He was old-school handsome in a James Dean kind of way. Smallish nose, crooked grin, moody eyes. His blond hair flicked across his forehead, gently resting on his right brow. Laura was overcome by the overwhelming instinct to brush it away. Embarrassment crept up her neck at the thought.

  Rachel wandered down to the riverbank. ‘Who’s coming in?’ she asked, pulling off her T-shirt and tossing it on the bank as she waded out knee-deep into the water. Rachel was wearing her black bikini top and denim cutoffs, her body curving in all the right places. Laura tugged at her own top and pulled it down over her stomach. Laura didn’t have curves like Rachel. Her nickname had been surfboard up until about year nine.

  ‘Come on, Ry! It’s beautiful in!’ Rachel said, stretching her arms above her and smiling.

  ‘Nah, maybe later,’ Ryan said, dropping his head.

  ‘I will!’ Tom yelled, jumping up and pulling off his T-shirt over his well-defined abdominal muscles. He’d filled out over the summer from all the farmwork. Tom was now almost a man. He bounded into the water, entering with a shallow dive before surfacing next to Rachel with a wide grin.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ Rachel screamed just before Tom dunked her underneath his weight. She resurfaced, squeezing her eyes and pulling at her wet hair that was plastered across her face. ‘I’m going to kill you, Tom.’ And it was on. A full-on water fight. Laura and Ryan watched from the dry safety of the riverbank.

  ‘Go on, your turn,’ Laura said to Ryan, who looked as if he’d love to jump in.

  He smiled and shook his head, taking another swig from his almost finished beer. ‘Nah, I’m good,’ he
said, watching them splash around. ‘They’d make a cute couple.’ He nodded toward them, where Rachel was monkey-like on Tom’s back, trying to dunk him under with little success.

  Laura looked at Ryan with a puzzled look, and they both burst out laughing.

  ‘No, they wouldn’t!’ She laughed.

  No way. Rachel and Tom were as opposite as north and south. Rachel hated getting her hands dirty, and Tom was rarely clean, all calloused hands and grimy fingernails thanks to the farm.

  Laura and Ryan sat in silence for a few minutes watching Rachel and Tom, who had now settled down and were having a floating competition, both on their backs staring up into the sky, the water gently rippling around them. Although the sun had disappeared behind the gum trees, the late summer heat hung in the air so thick you could almost touch it. Beside her, Laura felt Ryan glance toward her, and her heart increased in speed. She lifted the back of her ponytail off her neck to cool herself down, not knowing if it was the stifling evening air or being so close to Ryan that was giving her hot flashes.

  ‘Hey, see that?’ Ryan said, pointing past Laura into the trees in the distance.

  ‘See what?’ she asked, looking toward the nearby scrub. ‘Oh god it’s not a snake, is it?’

  ‘Nah, a possum, I think. Come on!’

  Ryan grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. The grasp of his hand was firm and strong. Darkness had now descended, and the moon, full and round, glimmered through the scraggly eucalyptus branches. Laura strained her neck backwards, peering up into the tree following Ryan’s gaze.

  ‘I can’t see anything,’ she said. The trees rustled, and the hot breeze fluttered at her shirt. Apart from that, the night was silent. Laura turned to Ryan, who was staring directly at her, the full moon making his sea-green eyes shine. The corner of his mouth twisted, accentuating the dimple on his cheek.