Welcome To Wherever You Are

by John Marrs

  Stuart struggled in vain as he was hauled out of Geri’s drawing room and into the hallway.

  ‘You can’t get away with this,’ he hollered.

  ‘Already have, sweetheart, already have,’ replied Geri, before pouring herself another glass of scotch.

  Geri’s security men were too preoccupied with ejecting him from the hallway to notice what he’d swiped from a sideboard.

  CHAPTER 59

  TODAY

  There were many things that terrified Nicole about Eric in a short space of time, none more so than the look of greed and victory spreading across his face as he held the pouch of diamonds in the palm of his hand.

  Eric had killed once to get what he wanted, and she was convinced he would kill again. Her entire body trembled as she looked around for an escape route.

  ‘I presume you’ve had them valued?’ he asked.

  ‘How could I? You never let me out of your sight,’ Nicole lied.

  ‘Your boyfriend could have done it for you. Remind me to pay little Tommy a visit before I leave.’

  Eric poured the contents of the pouch into his hand, but before he could stop her, Nicole leaped into action. She lurched towards him and slapped the underside of his hand, spraying the gems across the car park floor. Then, gambling on Eric choosing greed over revenge, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards the exit. Nicole’s hunch proved correct, as behind her, Eric hesitated, at first unsure of which way to turn before dropping to his hands and knees, frantically grabbing all the glistening jewels he could see.

  He scooped them into his pocket and stood up, but as his right foot moved forward, he felt a crunching under his sole. He looked down to see a tiny fragment of shattered glass and suddenly, reality began to dawn upon him. He took out one of the diamonds from the pouch, placed it on the floor and trod on it. It too left a powdery residue.

  ‘Costume jewellery,’ he snarled, and pulled the syringe out of his pocket. ‘You’re dead, Nicole!’ he yelled at her fading, running footsteps and turned around to pursue her.

  ‘Put the syringe down, sir,’ came a stern, female voice from nowhere. Eric quickly turned his head to see two uniformed police officers, their pedal bikes by their side. Eric’s mind raced, as this had not been part of his plan, albeit a plan that had been altered the moment Nicole cleared out her belongings from their room. However, it had clearly been part of Nicole and Tommy’s.

  ‘This isn’t anything,’ he began, and walked towards them smiling.

  The officers quickly reached for their guns and pointed them at him.

  ‘Put the weapon down, sir!’ shouted the officer.

  ‘Guys, guys,’ said Eric, panicking. ‘This isn’t a weapon – I’m diabetic, this is insulin.’

  Eric dropped the needle, and while one officer covered her partner, the other pushed Eric against the side of the car, patted him down and handcuffed him.

  ‘It says morphine here,’ the first officer began, reading the label on the bottle he plucked from Eric’s pocket, ‘it doesn’t say anything about insulin.’

  ‘I can explain that,’ stuttered Eric.

  ‘I’m going to look in the vehicle,’ the second officer added, and radioed for assistance.

  ‘You need a warrant,’ said Eric nervously, ‘everything in there is rightfully mine.’

  ‘Everything in this car is rightfully yours, you say?’ asked the second officer, removing tarpaulin from the flatbed of the truck and looking underneath.

  ‘Um, yes,’ replied Eric nervously.

  In the back of the truck was Nicole’s suitcase, but as the officer unstrapped the buckles and opened it, its only contents were five brick-sized packages of shrink-wrapped cannabis resin. Eric looked aghast as a patrol car made its way up a ramp and onto their level.

  ‘It’s not mine,’ he protested, but his words fell on deaf ears as he was read his rights and bundled into the back of the police car.

  CHAPTER 60

  Nicole sprinted down three fire exits, two ramps, out of the car park and across the road to the safety of a bustling sidewalk.

  She ran past the hostel and towards the beach, passing a parade of shops before she stopped behind a van parked outside a restaurant. She crouched down, struggling to catch her breath. Her head, stomach and nose ached, and her mouth felt dry before she was struck by an overwhelming urge to vomit. Last night’s Chinese food hit the ground before she heard a disgusted muttering and turned around to discover she was being watched by diners eating on a restaurant patio just metres away from her.

  However, disapproving stares from strangers were the least of her worries. Nicole waited nervously until she saw headlights appear from the car park exit and a police vehicle leave. She stood up and squinted at the rear of the vehicle, and briefly made eye contact with Eric before he was driven out of sight.

  CHAPTER 61

  ‘He could have killed you!’ began Tommy, as Savannah wiped away grit and dried blood from Nicole’s forehead and nostrils.

  Nicole lifted up her T-shirt and tentatively felt her ribs; none were broken, but she was quite sure they were bruised. Her nose was, however, broken, and she realigned it herself with a crack and a yelp before it had time to heal crookedly. Savannah had been keen to help when Tommy and Nicole turned up at her door looking for somewhere quiet to clean up and regroup, and used cotton wool buds from Jane’s first aid kit to clean a wound on Nicole’s chin and cheek.

  ‘Why didn’t you let me come with you if you thought he might be that dangerous?’ continued Tommy.

  ‘He wouldn’t have followed both of us, so I had to go on my own. And if you’d been with me, who’d have approached the police on the beach? What did you tell them?’

  ‘That someone had been selling drugs to hostellers from a pick-up truck, and that I’d just seen him in the car park. What’s Eric been charged with?’

  ‘I didn’t understand all the technicalities, but when I called pretending to be his sister Bridget to ask about bail, they said something about an intent to supply drugs, and possession of a potentially lethal weapon. The truck’s been impounded, and because it was shipped over here and registered in his name, there’s no link to me. And I can’t drive, so I’m not even named on the insurance.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell the police what he did to his mom?’ asked Savannah.

  ‘Because it’s Eric’s word against mine. Mrs Baker was cremated, so they can’t do any toxicology tests on her body, and there’s no way Bridget will ever admit to being party to her mother’s murder.’

  Nicole sighed and rubbed the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. ‘If what he was saying about Mrs Baker not believing he was being abused is true, then I feel terrible for him. But I did the right thing, didn’t I?’

  ‘I don’t think you had much of a choice,’ Tommy replied softly, ‘And don’t forget, you’re a wealthy woman now. What are you going do with the money?’

  ‘I’ve not really had time to think about it,’ sniffed Nicole. ‘I might stay in LA for a while and get my head together.’

  Nicole held her hand out and placed it on Tommy’s. ‘Thank you, by the way. It’s good to know who your friends are.’

  Only Savannah noticed how tense Tommy’s hand became in response, before he removed it and began picking up bloody cotton wool buds from the floor, dropping them into a bin. Just two weeks ago, Tommy could only have hoped for a moment of closeness like that, but a lot had happened in that short space of time, and he was finally ready to admit to himself that there was someone else he was developing much stronger feelings for.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ added Savannah, ‘where did you come up with $20,000 worth of pot so quickly?’

  *

  Ron admitted he wasn’t a man to express his emotions freely.

  He couldn’t recall the last time he’d cried; he’d fallen in love just once in his sixty-eight years, and the only thing that made him laugh were video clips of dogs doing silly things on YouTube. He couldn’t remember the
last time something, or someone, had left him speechless.

  So when Tommy walked into his office, placing $19,000 in $100 bills on his desk, his mouth dropped before he’d even realised.

  ‘Tell Peyk he needs to speed up production,’ was all Tommy said before leaving him to count the cash. And as he made his way up the stairs, Tommy decided neither Ron nor Nicole needed to know about the $1,000 he’d anonymously pushed under Matty and Declan’s door that afternoon.

  CHAPTER 62

  ‘Man, I really need this,’ said Tommy, taking a long drag from a joint.

  ‘I didn’t think you approved of my relaxation methods?’ asked Peyk.

  ‘I need to start lightening up a bit.’

  ‘No shit.’

  Peyk was a little surprised when Tommy turned up at the door of room 23 asking for something to help him chill out after a stressful day. He rolled Tommy a spliff with just a little cannabis to get him used to the taste, and they sat on either side of the windowsill looking out of the only pane of glass not covered by a blind or cardboard. The condensation from the heat lamps meant the windows’ coverings needed replacing every couple of days or they’d turn to papier mâché.

  Tommy’s head was already feeling like candy floss when he pointed towards Joe sleeping on a discarded mattress in an alley dumpster below.

  ‘I wonder how it all went wrong for him,’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Have you ever taken the trouble to ask him?’

  ‘I guess not. I just wondered why he started making such bad choices.’

  ‘Are any of the choices we make the right ones?’

  ‘Man, can we have just one conversation without this weird, cryptic shit?’

  ‘Nope,’ smiled Peyk.

  ‘You’re never curious why Joe’s life is such a waste?’

  ‘Who are you to judge him? Just because he hasn’t got what you have doesn’t mean he’s wasted it.’

  ‘Come on, nobody knows who he is. He’s got no money, no home, no family . . . not even a roof over his head. Nobody deserves that.’

  ‘But a man can live without all those things. And you have more in common with him than you think.’

  ‘Please enlighten me, oh wise oracle.’

  ‘Neither of you has any freedom.’

  Tommy frowned. ‘Well that’s bollocks, because I’m not the one scratching around for money, my whole life dedicated to scoring my next fix.’

  ‘That’s true, but while he has no freedom from his addiction, you’re not free from the limits you set yourself. You’re one of the most uptight, frightened little shits I’ve ever met. You’ve come travelling to escape something – that’s pretty clear to anyone – then you separate from your friend, you end up here and you don’t have the balls to go anywhere else on your own. You hide, safely entrenched in the margins, never in the middle of the page. You’re too scared to embrace freedom . . . you’re like a fish in a bowl in the ocean looking out towards the big picture but always too gutless to make the jump.’

  ‘Fuck you and your dumb-ass similes,’ snapped Tommy, taken aback by Peyk’s character assassination. ‘Where’s all this coming from? You don’t know the first thing about me.’

  ‘Tommy-boy!’ continued Peyk, exasperated. ‘I’ve met people like you countless times, and you’re all the same. You’re tourists, not travellers. You design your own problems then you bitch when no one gives you the solution.’

  ‘No I don’t!’

  ‘Be honest with yourself, if not me. You have remained here in this hostel because it’s the safest, most convenient option. You’re scared of going home, scared of what to do with your life, scared of what you’re feeling for Jake—’

  ‘Jake’s a mate,’ interrupted Tommy, sounding less than convincing.

  ‘He’s more to you than that and you know it. You think he’s found what you’ve been looking for; you think he’s at peace with himself. You think he’s everything you want to be but are too scared to find by yourself so you live vicariously through his anecdotes, hanging on his every word. But he’s not any of those things, Tommy. He’s a man, and men are flawed, some more than others. You can’t live your life through someone like that, you owe yourself more.’

  Tommy folded his arms defiantly, his partially stoned mind racing, desperately trying to justify his choices and devising a counter argument, all the time quietly aware Peyk’s words were ringing true.

  ‘Right here, right now, you can start your life all over again,’ Peyk continued. ‘You can do anything you want to . . . if you want to see the whole of the world, not just this little microcosmos, then go see it for yourself; if you want to experience a relationship with someone of the same sex, then just do it. In the great scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. In the great scheme of things, nothing matters – but you. And the only people who will judge you are the people you shouldn’t give two shits about. I know that people think I’m a joke – the stoner who walks around the hostel falling through ceilings. And you know what? I’m cool with that, I don’t care. I know who I am and I know what makes me, “me”. You don’t – you are made up of everyone you know, those living and those dead. Now you need to find your own path and be someone, not everyone else. Just don’t stand here casting judgment on Joe’s decisions when you are too gutless to make your own.’

  Peyk passed Tommy his joint. ‘Finish this off,’ he offered, and left Tommy alone, utterly bewildered.

  CHAPTER 63

  No matter how many sunsets he’d seen all over the world, the sixty minutes between the day ending and night beginning offered Jake more clarity than a sunrise did.

  It was the time when he could reflect on his day and contemplate what the night might bring.

  ‘Oi!’ shouted a voice in his ear, and Jake’s stomach lurched like he was driving too fast over a hump-backed bridge.

  ‘Jesus,’ he yelled, and swiftly turned his head to find Tommy chuckling.

  ‘I’m not Jesus, but you’re close,’ began Tommy. ‘I thought I’d find you on the roof. I just wanted to say I was sorry about earlier when you saw me at the beach. I was caught up in the middle of something . . . It’s been an . . . eventful day.’

  ‘No, I owe you an apology for the other day in the pub. I wasn’t having the best of times—’

  ‘Honestly mate, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just start again. I’ve brought you a peace offering.’

  From the pockets of his cargo shorts, he pulled out four miniature bottles of vodka and a can of Coke, a small bag of pot and some rolling papers.

  *

  ‘I’ve not done this in years,’ said Jake, taking another drag from the joint Tommy had rolled. The filter was moist and tasted like Tommy’s kiss.

  ‘I smoked a few joints with Sean at this backpacking place in the woods once, but that’s about it. Were you a bit of a stoner in your day, then?’

  Jake paused, knowing that with the booze and dope relaxing him, he couldn’t allow himself to become too loose of lip. ‘No more than anyone else,’ he conceded.

  They sat with their backs to the low wall from where the railings had fallen days earlier. Darkness was moving in, and the streetlights below reflected off the sidewalk, giving them a blue and grey tint.

  ‘A toast,’ Tommy suggested, holding up his glass and spilling some of his drink on his leg. It made him giggle, and he wasn’t sure why.

  ‘What are we celebrating?’

  ‘I’ve freed my inner sausage and given up the job on the hot dog stand,’ continued Tommy, but decided against telling him of the $5,000 Nicole had given him for his help and in what circumstances. ‘And you know what, for the first time in ages, I can honestly say I’m a happy man.’

  ‘Why now?’

  Tommy paused. ‘I lost people close to me not so long ago. It’s taken me a while to get my head around it.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’

  ‘Why do people always apologise, like it’s their fault?’

  ‘I don’t know, it ju
st seems like the right thing to say. Do you want to tell me about it?’

  ‘Actually, yes, I’d like to, but not right now. There’s something else I’d rather do.’ Tommy stared at Jake and smiled, and Jake wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or the weed that was making him misjudge the moment. Tommy took another swig from his vodka bottle for Dutch courage and with Peyk’s words still ringing in his ears, took a deep breath.

  ‘Do I have to stop you falling from the roof again before you kiss me?’ asked Tommy.

  ‘But you’re not—’

  Before he could even finish his sentence, Tommy had taken matters into his own hands and pressed his lips against Jake’s.

  CHAPTER 64

  DAY FOURTEEN

  Nicole spent much of the night awake and unable to sleep.

  Above her bunk, Eric’s bed lay empty, stripped of its sheets, and with his belongings donated to a confused Joe. Each time she moved she felt her bruised ribs, sore head and broken nose, but they didn’t hurt as much as Eric’s betrayal. There were too many thoughts swimming around her head to allow her to drop into an REM sleep, and each time she closed her eyes, she saw the venomous face of Eric glaring back at her, ready to end her life, and all for the sake of money.

  Nicole was reluctant to leave the building’s boundaries or even to venture into the courtyard to clear her head, even though she knew she was being irrational, as Eric was elsewhere in the city and behind bars. He wasn’t the only person she knew who’d been arrested recently, of course.

  In the rare moments when she wasn’t reliving her ordeal in the car park with Eric, Nicole worried about what had become of Ruth. Her best guess was that she’d been taken to some type of psychiatric unit to examine her mental state. When it had transpired that Ruth had also killed her mother and brother back in Australia, Nicole knew her shy, unassuming roommate suffered problems much deeper rooted than Nicole could have ever imagined or handled. Maybe Eric was right to tell her not to approach Ruth, she conceded, and maybe he’d seen more of himself in Ruth than he let on.