by J. C. Burke
Polly Pessimistic was slam dancing in my brain, bouncing off the sides then back again.
Yet I shouldn’t have been thinking about that. I should’ve been thinking about what it was going to be like when I walked into school the next morning. That’s what was occupying the thoughts of my mother, my brother and Ralph.
And of course, the other thing I should’ve realised before I went into overthinking-disaster mode was that most mornings and afternoons, Vanessa would be in the car with us anyway!
‘You ready?’ Ralph asked, as we drove into school.
‘Fine,’ I told him for about the tenth time. ‘Simon Finkler’s suspended. He’s not going to be around.’
‘But there could be other dickheads,’ Vanessa said.
‘Like?’ I asked.
‘One of the girls I modelled with in the States told me this horrible story about these parents who started a picket line outside the school. You know, with signs and stuff? They’d found out one of the students there had a brother with AIDS.’
I hadn’t been at all worried but now Vanessa was making me worried that I wasn’t worried.
‘I’m sure everything will be cool,’ I said, trying not to picture Andrea’s mother and grandmother marching outside the school with signs. ‘What can I do about it anyway? It’s their problem.’
The three of us walked in through the back gates, past the gymnasium and across the quadrangle: the scene of yesterday’s crime.
Some kids did look up and stare – but they were looking at Ralph’s face. Since last night, the purple bruising had bled across his nose and down one cheekbone. To me, he looked even more beautiful than Johnny Depp.
When I walked into the locker room, Andrea was leaning against the doorway and I had the distinct feeling she was waiting for me.
‘I saw you and Ralph and Vanessa walking across the quadrangle this morning,’ she said, a frozen smile on her face. ‘You were all looking like a very cosy threesome.’
‘Why are you saying that?’ I could only pretend up to a point with Andrea. But maybe she’d forgotten that I could read her like a book. ‘I told you last night that he was going to drive me to school from now on. I don’t have to report in to you, Andrea.’
‘No. But you couldn’t wait to ring me,’ she said, following me to my locker. ‘Surprising, considering it was one of the rare phone calls you give me these days.’
I sighed. ‘What’s your problem?’
‘I’m sure you rang me just so you could rub it in my face.’
‘Sorry, Andrea, you’ve lost me,’ I said.
‘You and Ralph.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You must be loving it.’
‘Loving what?’
‘Ralph paying you all this attention. You’ll probably end up going to the formal together.’
‘Andrea?’ I started. ‘You do remember the reason why Ralph’s driving me to school, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she replied. ‘And you know I think Simon Finkler is a jerk. But do you really think Billy should be swimming in our public pool?’
‘Andrea, for your information, the pool actually made my brother sick. Our germs are a danger to him. Not the other way around. So I don’t know where you’re getting your information from.’
‘You can’t be that upset about Simon Finkler. Honestly? It made Ralph come to your rescue.’
‘Are you serious? Do you have any idea what this has been like? Did you know I had to sit with a guy who died the other day? He was twenty-one. Twenty-one years old, Andrea!’
‘Hmm.’ Andrea nodded, her lips thinning into one straight line. Then out of the side of her mouth she uttered, ‘I just reckon you’re milking the situation a bit.’
‘You’re sick in the head, Andrea,’ I snapped, and walked off.
Once, not so long ago, I would’ve ended up in a heap. Or at the very least given Andrea another one of those stinging slaps of mine. But this time I didn’t succumb to either.
I’m not saying I didn’t feel upset. Of course I did. Yet that ‘once, not so long ago’ girl was different now. I’d like to say part of me felt sorry for Andrea and her small pathetic mind but that’d be a lie. It was more that I just didn’t care.
On the second morning when the lime mobile arrived at my place, Vanessa jumped out saying, ‘You take the front, Gemma.’
That week, those car trips to and from school were fifteen minutes of pure bliss. It was a break from Mum and Billy squabbling; from Andrea’s sulking; and from the odd kid at school gawking at me like I’d grown an extra nose. I felt like such an ordinary girl when I was in the car with Ralph and Vanessa. Ordinary in the best way possible.
I was put in charge of the music, changing the radio station or putting on a tape. If Ralph was thirsty, I passed him water. Once, when we’d stopped at a red light, he leaned over and kissed me. Vanessa groaned in the back and told us to get a room. Even though I blushed like crazy, which I don’t do often, it was the sweetest heat in my cheeks.
Friday afternoon came too soon and Louise felt like an intruder on our precious car trip, which wasn’t very fair to Louise, considering I’d been the one to mastermind the Friday afternoon plan.
As we walked to the lime mobile, I gave Vanessa a nudge and mouthed, ‘You sit in the front.’
Vanessa frowned. So I pointed to Louise and she nodded.
Ralph didn’t say anything to Vanessa when she took my seat. I wondered if they had that twin mental telepathy thing where they could read each other’s minds.
‘So what are you two actually doing this afternoon?’ Vanessa asked, turning around to face us in the back seat.
‘We’re making these into midriffs,’ Louise explained, pulling a plastic bag of T-shirts out of her schoolbag. ‘Cutting them off. Giving them new life for next summer.’
‘Cool,’ Vanessa said. ‘Can I join in?’
‘Sure,’ I answered. ‘Billy would love that.’
‘Will he be there?’
‘Yeah. He’s going to help. Billy’s kind of claiming that it was his idea in the first place.’
‘Ralph?’ Vanessa asked. ‘Can we go home to ours first so I can get some T-shirts?’
‘Can I come too, Gemma?’ Ralph winked at me in the rear-view mirror and I tried to eat my smile.
Now Friday afternoon with Louise had suddenly become the greatest.
Ralph and Vanessa lived in the old part of the suburb. When I was little, I’d wished that we could move there because to me it felt like a model town. The streets were narrow, the fences were all painted white and the houses joined together in neat rows. The park had a pond shaped like a peanut and white feathery ducks that nibbled politely on the bread you threw them.
We pulled up outside a gate with the number 36 painted in gold.
‘I won’t be long,’ Vanessa said. Then she added, so casually as though it were a last-minute thought, ‘Oh, Louise, can you come in and help me choose the T-shirts?’
So that left the two of us alone in the lime mobile.
‘Doesn’t Louise know about us?’ Ralph asked. ‘Is that why you’re sitting in the back?’
‘What’s us?’
‘You and me,’ he shrugged. ‘We’re kind of a thing. Aren’t we? Does she know we’re going to the formal together?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I haven’t told anyone. Not a soul.’
‘I was wondering why Andrea hadn’t accosted me in the locker room.’ Ralph smirked. ‘Do you not want …’
I was shaking my head because I didn’t want Ralph to get the wrong idea. Yet explaining the truth was terrifying.
‘You’re probably going to think I’m a freak but … but you’re the one good thing that’s happening to me, Ralph, and … I just want to keep it separate from all the bad stuff.’
Ralph leaned over and took my hand. I loved how mine seemed to fit perfectly inside his and the way his thumb stroked my fingers when he spoke. It was as though he didn’t even know he was doi
ng it. Like we’d been a couple for so long that it was just a habit now.
Mum actually didn’t embarrass me when Ralph walked in the front door with us. In fact, they acted like long-lost friends. Perhaps it was due to the black eyes that he’d copped for me? More likely it was that they’d bonded over my floppy, vomit-covered body. But I preferred the first option.
‘You’re actually in luck, girls, because I have three pairs of scissors,’ Mum said. ‘I’m assuming you’re not cutting T-shirts, Ralph?’
‘No. I’m just the support team, Mrs Longrigg.’
‘Is Billy here?’ Vanessa asked.
‘He’ll be home soon,’ Mum answered. ‘He had to visit the clinic today. They’ve probably been flat out. Fridays can be manic there.’
I was surprised that Mum had just offered up that info. But this was us. Warts and all. ‘Like us or lump us’, as she’d said. No one uttered a sound and no one looked as though they were going to bolt out the door either.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ I said.
‘I’ve got some chocolate biscuits in my bag,’ Louise offered.
Ralph, Louise and Vanessa plonked themselves around the kitchen table and started stuffing their faces with biscuits. I turned on the radio. ‘Love Shack’ by the B-52’s was playing.
‘I love this song!’ Louise exclaimed.
‘Me too,’ Vanessa said. ‘Turn it up!’
As I filled the kettle I noticed Neuta standing in my mother’s sewing room wearing my formal dress. The skirt was now joined to the top and although it was still mostly pins and pieces of black velvet it did resemble the finished article.
I didn’t want Ralph to see it. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. I wanted to have my big moment when Ralph picked me up that night. I wanted to see his face light up and hopefully hear him gasp and say something amazing. I hadn’t quite decided what.
‘I think the kettle’s full enough,’ Mum said, tapping me on the shoulder as the water spilled over the spout.
I gave Mum the big eyeballs and beckoned her over to the fridge.
With our heads inside the fridge door, pretending to search for something, I told my mother that Ralph had asked me to the formal and that I needed her to hide my dress. Then I put my finger to my lips and made a little shoosh sound.
Apart from Mum digging her fingernails into my wrist and me letting out a little squeal, it went perfectly. Mum slipped off into the sewing room and Neuta disappeared into the cupboard.
We sat on the living room floor because there was more room. We spread out our T-shirts and when Billy arrived home he gave us a how-to lecture. He held up one of Vanessa’s old Wham! T-shirts in fluoro green. ‘If they’re big and baggy like this, then you can cut them quite short,’ Billy told us. ‘Just don’t cut into the writing because that’ll look weird.’
Louise unfolded a red long-sleeved top that looked as though it’d fit a doll. ‘What about this shape, Billy?’
‘Mmm … tight fit. I’d go just above the belly button.’
‘Sexy,’ I joked. Louise turned as red as her T-shirt.
‘Talking about sexy,’ my brother added, ‘the other thing you can do is trim around the neckline. Depending on how deep you cut, you can make the “oh dear, my T-shirt’s falling off my shoulder” look. That was all the rage in New York when I left.’
‘This is sounding pretty technical,’ Ralph said. He was flicking through our CD collection and I was hoping he wouldn’t think the Rod Stewart albums were mine. ‘How about I be the DJ?’ he volunteered. ‘Who wants to make the first request?’
‘Can we choose songs or do we have to request whole albums?’ Louise asked.
‘Songs,’ Ralph said. ‘Otherwise I’m just going to be sitting here like a dork.’
‘Michael Jackson, “Billie Jean”?’ Vanessa called out.
‘Coming up!’
We cut and ripped and measured our tops. We sang and ate pretty much everything that was in the pantry and fridge. We turned on the lights when dusk arrived and the living room became too dark. And when I was starting to get that sinking feeling inside because our piles of T-shirts were shrinking and I didn’t want it to end, Mum and Billy walked in, dumping two bags full of tops on the couch, then emptying them out onto the cushions.
‘These are some old ones of Billy’s,’ Mum told us. ‘I never got around to dropping them off in a charity bin.’
We pounced on them like hyenas.
‘I remember this one,’ Billy said, holding up a Rolling Stones T-shirt with a tattooed face sprawled across it.
‘Yeah, me too,’ I agreed.
‘I bought this in 1981. It used to fit me like a glove.’
‘It’s cool,’ Ralph said.
‘Have it.’ Billy handed it to him. ‘Those black eyes tell me you’ve earnt it.’
For a second I panicked that Ralph would go all awkward over the comment. But he didn’t. Instead, he and Billy high-fived. ‘Take any ones you want, Ralph. I don’t need them.’
Vanessa was studying one. ‘Silence equals Death,’ I heard her whisper. ‘That’s an AIDS one, isn’t it?’ she asked Billy.
‘There should be another one too.’ Before I could say that I had it, Billy was pulling a third one out of the pile. Except this one was slightly different. It had a little pink triangle drawn above the words.
‘Hey, we should all wear these to school one day,’ Vanessa suggested. ‘Put the Fink in his place.’
‘Yeah!’ Louise said, and Ralph chimed in, ‘Good idea.’
‘But we only have two,’ I lied. Then yawned.
‘Maybe we could get a whole lot printed?’ Vanessa said. ‘Sell them at school. They’re always trying to get us to do forty-hour famines and walkathons and stuff like that. Why can’t we have a cause that means something to us, for once?’
‘My neighbour prints T-shirts,’ Louise announced. ‘I’m babysitting their kids tonight. I’ll ask.’
Ralph and Vanessa were nodding. In fact, my brother was too. So I joined in even though I wasn’t sure how I felt about my whole school walking around in Silence = Death T-shirts.
‘Who can’t wipe the smile off their face?’ Mum teased, after they’d all left.
I was plugging in the vacuum cleaner because the carpet was covered in tiny pieces of fabric, as though someone had been married in the living room and we’d thrown it like confetti.
‘He’s so nice, isn’t he, Mum?’
‘You’ll be a good-looking couple at the formal,’ Mum said, taking Neuta out of the cupboard. ‘I’d better make sure this dress is extra perfect.’
‘Billy?’ I called. ‘Billy, do you like Ralph?’ I dropped the vacuum cleaner and went to my brother’s room.
Billy was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.
‘You okay?’ I asked.
‘That was a good afternoon, wasn’t it?’ His jolly words didn’t suit the way he was sitting or the expression on his face. ‘So you’re going to the formal with spunky monkey? How about that!’
Billy stood up and went to the top drawer of his chest of drawers. His fingers lingered on the handle like he hadn’t quite made up his mind if he was going to open it or not.
This was the drawer that held the letter to our father, stamped and ready to send. Was he going to take it out? Ask me to post it? Ask me to burn it the way I’d once suggested we do with any mail that had our father’s name on it?
Billy opened the drawer. My heart started to pound. Thud, thud, thud.
‘I was meant to wait,’ he whispered, ‘but I think now is the right time.’
Billy took out a small gold box. He held it and his hands were shaking. ‘This is a gift from Saul,’ he began. ‘He bought it himself. He was pretty sick and I was out doing a job so he hailed a taxi. The shop was only about six blocks away, but the driver waited and Saul went in and bought them.’ Billy was chuckling, lost in a story that must have felt like it happened so long ago. ‘I was bloody mad because when I arrived home, h
e wasn’t there. No note. No nothing. Hah, the trip could’ve killed him!’ I watched my brother press his lips together and it was one of those times I was sure I could hear his heart crack. ‘Saul knew he’d never get the chance, so he said that on the night of your formal I should give this to his favourite gal. Mr Attorney probably wouldn’t approve that I’m giving it to you early. But, now,’ Billy paused, ‘well, it just feels right.’
I took the box from Billy and sat on the bed because my legs were starting to feel like jelly. On the lid were gold letters that read Christian Lacroix. How could being given something that I’d wanted for so long hurt so much now that I finally had it in my hands?
Under the lid was red tissue paper, perfectly folded without a crease, and inside the tissue paper was a pair of earrings. Giant gold crosses. Exactly the same earrings as I’d seen in the magazine.
I lay them in my palm. They reached all the way from the tip of my middle finger to the start of my wrist. Big, bold, look-at-me earrings just like I’d dreamed of.
‘He remembered,’ I whispered. My fingertips ran around the edge of the cross that Saul’s hands had touched too. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine his neat, clipped fingernails. The smooth square nailbeds that Billy was always begging to paint because they were so perfect. On the day Saul had given me the gold hoops and seen the disappointment on my face he’d promised that one day he’d give me these. Is that why he’d gone out in a taxi when he was so sick? Because he’d promised?
But when I looked up to ask Billy, he wasn’t in the room. I hadn’t even heard him leave.
Billy had disappeared. No note. No nothing. Mum paced the hallway, ignoring my suggestion that maybe he’d told her he was going out and she’d forgotten. But I didn’t even believe that myself.
At about 11 p.m. Billy rang us from the city, howling like a little boy, asking us to come and get him, telling us he couldn’t go on anymore because it hurt too much.
