The Memories We Hide

by jodi Gibson

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘There's just so much you don't know, and I know I shouldn't tell you, but I have to. It's gone on too long. I have to tell you. I know Ryan hasn't got the balls to.’

  Tom's voice was blending into the noise of the party and becoming one big thump in Laura's head. She tried hard to decipher his deep tones from the heavy beat of the music, the screaming of the girls, and the raucous laughter of the boys, but it was no use. It was one big, heavy mess, tossing from side to side in her head.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, searching for what would be a good response, she hoped.

  ‘It's about Ryan …’ Tom continued.

  ‘Tom, what the fuck are you doing?’

  Laura looked up, startled. She tipped backwards to see Rachel standing behind them, hands on hips. ‘Rach!’

  Rachel pulled up Laura violently, so hard it felt like her arm was about to be ripped out of its socket.

  ‘What the hell?’ Laura yelled, holding her shoulder.

  ‘Come on Laura, we're getting out of here,’ Rachel said, pulling Laura again.

  ‘No you're not!’ Tom said, grabbing Laura's other arm by the elbow. She felt like a rag doll being pulled in all directions. A very sick rag doll with a spinning head.

  ‘It's not up to you to say anything, Tom, so just fuck off, okay?’ Rachel yelled into Tom's face.

  ‘How about you fuck off, Rachel! I hear you're pretty good at it.’ Tom's voice was rough and edgy, a tone Laura didn't recognize.

  ‘Just leave it. It's none of your business.’ Rachel pulled Laura out of Tom's grip, and she tumbled to the ground, trying to focus her eyes, her stomach churning, and beads of sweat forming on the back of her neck. Suddenly all those drinks didn't seem like such a good idea.

  ‘Hey! Hey! What the fuck is going on?’ Ryan appeared by Laura’s side, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her to her feet.

  ‘I don’t feel so good, Ry,’ she mumbled.

  ‘You make me sick. You can all go to hell,’ Tom yelled before storming off.

  Poor Tom. Laura wished she knew why he was so on edge lately. Refocusing, the nausea slowly disappeared, and Laura wrapped her arms around Ryan and went to kiss him, but her weight forced them to stumble onto the nearby picnic table.

  ‘Lauz, Lauz, hang on,’ he said, unwrapping her hands from his neck.

  ‘Tom's right.’ Rachel's shaky voice seeped into Laura's ears. ‘You need to tell her. We need to tell her!’

  Laura frowned. What was it everyone needed to tell her? Whatever it was, surely it could wait. She was having the best time she'd had all year. This was their final party, and she didn't want it to end. She jumped to her feet. ‘Hey! You two! Settle!’ she announced, holding both her hands in the air. ‘Let's not fight. Let's dance!’ And with that, she swallowed the acidic taste in her mouth and stumbled off toward the dance floor again, swept into the current by a group of girls. In the background, Laura could hear Rachel’s high-pitched voice and Ryan yelling back at her, but it was all a blur of white noise. All she wanted to think about was keeping her feet moving and her arm hanging on to the girl next to her to support herself as she let the rhythm of the dance take over.

  Laura had no idea how much time had passed, but the next thing she remembered was dry-retching after eliminating the entirety of her stomach contents onto an oily pizza box. Her throat burned and her eyes leaked, but at least the heaviness of her stomach had begun to ease.

  Wiping her mouth, she wandered out into the front yard where a few remaining partygoers were lingering. Red and blue lights illuminated the driveway as the police stood around waiting for everyone to disperse orderly. Laura watched as a couple of her classmates were loaded into the back of the police car. She scoured the yard and street for Ryan but couldn’t see him anywhere. She didn’t see Rachel or Tom either. Her head began to pound as the fresh air hit her. She just wanted to go home. As the police walked down the driveway toward the backyard, Laura stepped out from behind the house and made a run for it, slowing to a walk once she knew she was far enough out of sight.

  It was only a five-minute walk home, and the fresh air would help clear her head. At least the alcohol had worn off sufficiently for her to be able to walk in a straight line. One foot in front of the other, Laura looked down, staring at her bare feet. She had no idea where her shoes were, vaguely recalling flinging them from her feet during the Macarena. It didn't matter, they’d no doubt be ruined just like her jeans were—covered in things she didn't want to try and identify.

  Hearing the pounding of footsteps behind her, Laura's heart raced as she spun around.

  ‘Hey! I've been looking for you everywhere!’ Ryan said, grabbing her from behind.

  ‘Geez, Ryan!’ she yelled, peeling his arms off her. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’

  Under the glare of the streetlight, Laura noticed his eyes were glassy and bloodshot and his hair was wet. His T-shirt was covered in a pungent stench of beer.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he asked, slurring his words, grabbing her shoulder to stop himself stumbling.

  ‘Me? I've been at the party. Where have you been?’ Laura smelled the sweet scent of pot on his breath. ‘Have you been smoking weed?’

  Ryan laughed, his voice echoing in the stillness of the night.

  ‘Ryan. You can be such a tosser sometimes,’ Laura said, shaking her head and turning for home.

  ‘Rachel! Wait!’

  ‘Rachel? I'm Laura, you idiot.’ She turned back to see his mouth drop and color run from his face. As it did, a cold realization washed over her.

  Rachel?

  ‘You and Rachel?’ She frowned as the acid crept up from her throat again. It all made sense now. All the signs rushed back to her, playing hastily in rewind. Ryan being distant, Rachel acting weird. The looks between them. She felt as if she’d been punched in the gut.

  ‘Laura, wait! Let me explain.’

  But Laura didn’t want to hear an explanation. She turned and started to run, the soles of her feet slapping the pavement as she did.

  At the railway line junction Ryan grabbed her by the arm. She stumbled onto the rough ground near the edge of the embankment to the tracks.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelled. ‘Let me go.’

  ‘You don't understand!’ he yelled. ‘I never wanted any of this to happen.’

  Laura squirmed under his weight as he pinned her arms down to the ground, something sharp piercing into her back.

  ‘Get off me, Ryan,’ she cried. ‘You're hurting me!’

  ‘I wanted to tell you. Tell you everything. About Rachel. About me, but …’ Ryan was crying now too, his words frantically falling out of his mouth. ‘I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted it to happen, but it did. You deserve someone so much better.’

  None of what he was saying made any sense. All Laura could see were visions of the two of them in her mind. Dirty visions. Visions that made her physically recoil.

  ‘How long, Ryan? How long?’ she screamed into his face.

  ‘It was only one time. We both felt so bad. I just …’ Ryan rolled off her and slumped to the ground, holding his hands over his face. The wind of rage disappeared from him.

  ‘You deserve better than me. I can't give you what you want. I'll hurt you. Even more than I've hurt you now. And I never wanted to hurt you. You've got to believe me. I don't want to hurt anyone. You or Rachel. But you don't know. You don't know.’ Ryan was ranting now, stumbling to his feet. ‘I'm nothing but a piece of shit! Just like my father,’ he said, floundering one foot in front of another up the embankment toward the rocky edge of the train line.

  Laura's breath was fast, and she was shaking with anger. ‘No, Ryan. You don't get to do that.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Pretend. You can't pretend that you couldn't help it. That you never wanted it to happen. That you never wanted to hurt me.’ She doubled over, yelling as loud as she could, aiming her words at him sharply so they'd cut. So
they'd hurt him as much as she hurt right now.

  ‘Is that how you want to play this?’ His words were acidic, his eyes blank and soulless under the milky light of the full moon.

  Laura stared at him, at this stranger. She didn't know him. She barely recognized him.

  ‘Fine. It's your fault,’ he said, throwing his hands in the air, then pointing at her. ‘You're always little miss perfect. You had our whole fucking lives planned out. You never even asked me what I wanted. You just assumed what we'd do. You practically had us walking down the aisle without a second thought to me! What about what I wanted? Did you ever listen to me? I never felt like I could really tell you how I feel. Your life is so perfect.’ He spat his words at Laura like venom from a snake's fangs.

  Laura clapped her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear it. She wanted to throw up. Scream. Every bone, every sinew of her body hurt. Her insides, her feet, her head, her throat. Her heart. Her shoulders slumped, weakened as Ryan sat down in the middle of the train tracks, staring down the vacant line. It was like all his anger had disappeared into the blackness of the night as quickly as their vicious words had.

  Laura sucked in her sobs. ‘Get off the tracks, Ryan,’ she said. Ryan continued to stare straight ahead.

  ‘Get up!’ This time she spoke louder, trying to walk toward him, but the sharp bluestone rocks pierced her already tender feet.

  ‘Just leave me alone,’ Ryan said, his voice low. The air was still, the night silent. It was as if time had paused.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, staring toward the lights that glared along her street. Still, Ryan didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply stared zombie like into the distance. Laura’s frustration simmered to the surface again as she yelled in despair.

  ‘Fine! Get hit by a train, Ryan Taylor. See if I care!’ she screamed in one last vent of anger toward him before turning and running down the darkened path under the railway line and toward home.

  She ran as fast as her exhausted legs would take her, refusing to look back. She couldn't. Everything had ended here tonight. Her boyfriend had cheated on her. Her best friend had betrayed her.

  They'd lied.

  As Laura reached her front porch, she paused to catch her breath before gently opening the front door and creeping down the hallway, careful to miss the creaky floorboard. Once in her bedroom, she silently clicked the door shut and hopped into bed. Her lungs searched for air between the deep sobs she tried to suppress with her pillow. Her body pulsated with a sickening mix of hurt, anger, lethargy, and hopelessness. She felt like a piece of glass, shattered into tiny shards.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as her body shook. She just wanted to sleep. To have her brain switch off so it couldn't think anymore, couldn't hurt. Her breathing slowed as she let the last remnants of alcohol drift her towards the blackness. In the distance, she thought she heard a scream, but it was just the whistle of a freight train. She let the sound that rattled her window lull her toward sleep.

  Laura found herself in a ball on her bed as she peeled herself away from the memory. Her head throbbed and her eyes were wet.

  Ryan had tried to tell her. Even in his last moments he’d tried, but she didn’t listen—wouldn’t listen. Her hurt in that moment had been all-consuming. Anyone her age would have done the same thing. Hindsight and wisdom were no use to her teenage emotions. All that was left to do now was to forgive herself and forgive Ryan. They had both been young and afraid. Fears compounded by hormones and emotions they couldn’t understand. She didn’t feel sorry for Ryan, but she finally understood.

  Chapter 28

  Tom woke with a start as a crack of thunder shook the house. He glanced at the clock which glowed just after five a.m., and he pulled himself out of his warm bed. Dawn was still at least half an hour away, but Tom knew he couldn’t wait any longer. It was raining again—or hadn’t stopped—Tom wasn’t sure, but he knew he had to check the gauge and move the cattle.

  After pulling on his boots and heading over to the rain gauge, his heart sank. Even without good light he could see it wasn’t good. It must have rained nonstop all night. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed his farmhand’s number. Yeah, it was early, but Tom needed help. As the line rang out, Tom cursed. ‘Shit.’ Not even a message bank to leave a message. He tried calling his neighbor but again, no answer. He was probably out checking his own stock. With the rain pooling on the lip of his hat, Tom decided he had no choice but to head out alone.

  The horizon was beginning to lighten, but it only reflected the grayness of the sky, and Tom’s heart pounded. The slow dawn shed a veil of light on just how much rain had fallen overnight. Paddocks now looked more like swamps, and Tom could see in the distance the eucalyptus trees that usually bordered the river were now surrounded by water. The river was unleashing a torrent toward Tom’s lower lying paddocks. He saw a herd of cattle clambering on the only high spot and to the right in the distance, a handful of cows struggling in the water and mud, their painful bellows haunting.

  The squelch of the tires in the mud caused the Ute to come to an abrupt halt. ‘Shit!’ he cursed again, unable to find any other words that fit the moment. He pushed his foot on the accelerator, but the engine squealed as the tires spun uselessly. Tom slammed his hands on the steering wheel, his heart pounding in his ears. He’d have to go on foot. He grabbed a couple of lengths of rope from the Ute and jumped out. The gate wasn’t budging either, so Tom had to jump the fence, catching his leg on some wire jutting out from the post. He didn’t even feel the pain as he pulled his leg free, just the warmth of a trickle of blood on the inside of his leg.

  Tom sloshed through the paddock toward the struggling cows, his thoughts ticking over at a rate of knots. The realization sunk into his heart like his boots in the mud, drowning him in despair. This was bad. Bloody bad. He rounded the back of the six cows and they lurched forward. ‘Heah-ya!’ he yelled, waving his arms. The cows stumbled and bellowed, but they moved forward into the direction of the high ground. Tom continued yelling and prodding them for another hundred meters until their hooves gripped onto the drier ground and they bounded up to the top, huddling together under the canopy of an old oak tree.

  Catching his breath, Tom turned back toward a lone cow a little further back who hadn’t managed to move. With his legs heavy, he made his way back to her. As he edged closer, the cow snorted. ‘It’s okay, girl. It’s okay,’ Tom whispered. He attempted to loop the rope he was carrying around her neck, but she threw her head back, her eyes white with fear.

  ‘Hey, hey,’ Tom said. ‘Let’s get you out, okay?’

  He swung the rope again, this time catching it around the cow’s neck. The slip knot tightened and Tom began to gently pull her toward him. ‘C’mon, help me out. You can do it,’ he eased. The cow struggled, but instinct seemed to tell her Tom was her only hope. As the rain continued to fall, Tom pulled again, and this time the cow’s back legs loosened, as she leaned forward. But her back legs were stuck. It was only then that Tom noticed the body of her six-month old calf in the muddy water.

  Tom’s chest tightened and tears stung at the back of his eyes. They’d had no chance. Tom had failed them. The cow again heaved forward, but it was no use—Tom couldn’t budge her. She bellowed as Tom let out a raw, primal scream from deep inside. Emotion clogged in his throat as salty tears mixed with the rain on his face. This couldn’t be happening.

  The water seemed to be rising at a rate of knots, now up to Tom’s groin. If he didn’t move now, he would suffer the same fate as his herd. The cut on his leg had begun to sting and he fingered the hole, covering his fingers in blood. He stared blankly at the devastation before him. Too much rain. Ground too hard. Nowhere to go.

  His thoughts tangled into knots, and in that moment, he felt like giving up. He was a failure. He’d failed his father. Disappointed his mother. Failed his farm, the cows. Failed himself. What was the point? Tom looked toward the sky, and even though the rain had finally stopped, the gray ski
es were like a blanket of lead hanging over him. His chest heaved and he hung his head.

  Chapter 29

  With her eyes thick with dried salt and grainy sleep, Laura fumbled her hand on the bedside table looking for her buzzing phone. She turned over and squinted to read the number of the caller. It was a local number, and although it seemed familiar, she didn’t recognize it. She cleared her throat and answered,

  ‘Hello, Laura speaking.’

  ‘Laura, hi! It’s Mick. I hope I haven’t called too early, but I have some exciting news for you.’

  Laura glanced at her watch, which read 8:08 a.m. It did seem a bit early, but if he had good news, it would be worth it.

  ‘Hey Mick. Ah, no, not too early at all,’ she said, shuffling herself upright. ‘What’s the news? I could sure do with some.’

  ‘I have an offer on your mum’s house.’

  Laura sucked in a deep breath. ‘Oh wow! Really? But you haven’t even started showing people yet.’

  ‘Well, that’s the thing. I haven’t. But I’ve been ringing around a few contacts on my books, and one of them in particular is an investor. He’s a local but lives in Sydney at the moment. Anyway, I told him about the house, and he said he knew the one and that he could be interested. Long story short, I shot him through some photos, and he rang me first thing. He loves it! Wants to do it up. You know, restore it to its original splendor, I think were his exact words.’

  ‘You mean he wants to buy it? Sight unseen?’ Laura was glad she was sitting down. Although she was hoping for a quick sale, she wasn’t expecting this.

  ‘Yep. He’s put an offer to me. Full price, thirty days, unconditional. So not subject to finance. Doesn’t even want a building or pest inspection.’

  ‘Wow! I … I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Say yes!’ Mick laughed down the line.

  Laura hesitated.

  ‘Laura, it really is the perfect offer. It doesn’t get any better than this,’ Mick continued. ‘But, I get it. It’s a big decision. What if you get back to me by tomorrow? That’ll give you some thinking time. Maybe discuss it with your solicitor?’