by C. J. Duggan
“If you don’t let me go, I am going to open up a can of whoop ass on you.”
This had him throwing his head back with laughter, which just made me even angrier and I jerked and kicked about some more.
“What a terrifying thought!” he said. His grip tightened to still my movements.
“What ya got there, Seany boy?”
A deep, burly voice emanated from the darkness. Big Sam, who worked at the local council, appeared from the drive, making his way up onto the verandah. He had a curious, bemused look on his face as he studied the situation. I tried to struggle free again, thinking surely this would embarrass Sean into letting me go. But his embrace was tighter than ever, as I was pressed against his ribcage.
“Look out, Sam, she’s a real live wire.”
Sam paused, about to open the pub door.
“Well, careful you don’t get electrocuted, young fella.”
“It’s all good, Sam.”
His grip loosened a little and I stopped fighting. I suddenly felt a little mortified by my actions. I would have tried to run a hand through my hair, if they weren’t pinned to my sides. Oh God! I had started a bar room brawl. I had been in a bar room brawl. In my bar room!
“Enter with caution, Sam.”
“Trouble?”
“Oh, I think Toby and Stan have everything under control; just some trouble with a few blow-ins.”
Sam shook his head. “Bloody tourists. Be good, kids.”
Having left us alone, I was now super aware of Sean’s arm around my ribcage, pressing under my bra line, intimately close to the swell of my breasts. His other arm was swooped around my lower stomach. The heat seeping from skin to skin was so intense I thought I would be burned by his touch. A touch I found myself leaning back into. His chest was like a living, breathing wall – so sturdy, so strong. His thumb stroked my upper arm in a soothing, circular motion. I could sense his lips near my ear as his breaths swept across my cheek. I slowly lifted my eyes to him. Gone was any sign of amusement or even concern. Instead, there was something I hadn’t seen before, and didn’t know how to name it. His eyes flicked across my face in a deep study. His gaze flicked from my eyes to my mouth and quickly back again. It was so fast I thought I had imagined it. Was there a silent question behind that foreign look? It seemed like hours had passed since I had pleaded with him to let me go. Now, having seen that raw look in his eyes, it had me wanting the opposite. Before I could open my mouth to voice just that …
“Amy?”
The trance was broken. Our heads snapped around to see my cousin, Chris, standing at our side with his duffel bag slumped over his shoulder and murder in his eyes.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Chapter Twenty
Sean’s arms fell away almost as quickly as I leapt forward.
Chris dropped his bag to the ground. His eyes narrowed and flicked from Sean to me and then back, his penetrating glare resting on Sean, who scratched the back of his neck and attempted not to smile.
Oh God, please don’t smile …
I could see a familiar tension pulsing through Chris’s veins as he fixed his lethal stare on Sean.
“Chris, what are you doing here?” I asked, trying to deflect his attention and rage – a rage I was all too familiar with; it was the same fury that arose any time his kid brother, Adam, pushed him to the edge. It usually resulted in a joint beating of one another. My eyes widened at the memories and I moved to quickly stand between him and Sean.
“Hey, quit it!” I pulled at Chris’s top, causing his eyes to narrow down towards me.
“I said what are you doing here?”
His serious gaze burned into me and I suddenly regretted redirecting his attention.
“What’s going on?” Chris bit out.
“N-nothing,” I said, lifting my chin up defiantly.
I felt Sean shift behind me as if he was going to support my claim, but the tension was interrupted by the screeching of the bar door followed by the blast of music from within.
Tess popped her head out before locking onto us with a big smile.
“They’re gone. Toby and Stan had the pleasure of escorting them out back with a bit of friendly persuasion.”
“Escorting who?” Chris called from behind me.
Tess squinted beyond us. “Chris? What are you doing here?” Tess beamed.
I spun around, annoyed enough from his macho BS and the habit of him cutting me off and ignoring my questions. Same old Chris.
“Yes, Chris, what are you doing here?” I said.
This time it was Sean’s turn to interrupt. “I called him.”
“What?” I said. “Why?”
He shrugged in that casual, careless way of his. “I thought you might have needed an extra set of hands.”
Oh, did you now?
“Don’t give me that look,” Sean said.
“What look?”
“The look that tells me I am in serious trouble when you get me alone.”
Tess snickered and I could feel myself turning a deeper shade of red. Chris coughed and I broke contact from Sean’s knowing eyes.
“So does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” Chris asked, clearly annoyed.
I sighed. “You better come in and pull up a stool.”
***
At midnight. it was time for the lights to go out and the doors to be deadbolted. I pressed my back against the last of the locked doors and blew out a deep breath. I heard the muffled chatter and the jukebox with the volume down low from the poolroom where only the select few still sat around the couches – not select in the fact that I had invited them, but that they’d invited themselves. Still, it was only Toby, Tess, Stan, Sean, and Chris so I didn’t entirely mind. After all, they had prevented me from scratching out Matt’s eyes; that would have been really bad for business. In the last hour before lock-up I had managed to enlighten Chris on what I had discovered upon my return to Onslow, including Matt the Rat and the fact that Dad seemed completely oblivious to it all.
Chris was living in the city and apparently had gone straight to the hospital to see Dad, but there had been no mention of my being at the Onslow until Sean had called him. When Chris mentioned that last part I couldn’t help but glare towards Sean who was playing pool with Stan, just like old times.
“Looks like I got here just in time.” Chris looked at me while taking a long drink of his beer.
“Why?”
He cocked his head. “You mean apart from attacking the patrons or finding you with Sean Murphy?”
My eyes flicked to him, alarm undoubtedly obvious through my suddenly tensed body.
“I assure you, there is nothing you should read into either of those situations.”
Chris placed his beer on the bar and crossed his arms as if he didn’t believe a word I had just said. Suddenly I wasn’t so eager to remain in the poolroom anymore to be judged by my cousin’s suspicious, brown eyes; instead, I had to face an entirely different situation.
I tossed the cloth into my bucket of soapy, hot water and grabbed an extra bottle of Spray ’n’ Wipe and a Brillo pad. My semi-punishment for bar room brawling was to clean the profanity off the walls in the men’s room. Even if Chris hadn’t told me to, I would have done it anyway. I couldn’t bear to have it there another second.
“I’m going in,” I called to the poolroom. Juggling my stash of cleaning supplies, I pushed my back against the men’s room door. The stench hit me first, an indescribable odour that was powerful enough to make my eyes water. Boys were so gross. As I propped the door open with a chair from outside, hoping to let some air in and dilute the stench somewhat, I thought, here I am on a Saturday night about to scrub the men’s room. Wonder what others are doing on their summer holidays?
The thought was wiped from my mind as soon as I looked at the wall over the urinals. Rage filled my insides at seeing the disgusting caricature of me in a lewd act with a boy, scrawled onto the wall in black texta. If I h
ad had an inkling of just how degrading the image was going to be, I would have done more than throw a drink on the creep. Now the stench wasn’t the foulest part of this room, and I didn’t want that drawing on the wall another minute. I sprayed the wall and scrubbed it within an inch of its life. I paused only every now and then to wipe a wayward tear that fell down my cheek. I heard footsteps approach the men’s room.
“I’m in here …” I yelled out, mainly to prevent any embarrassment and possible exposure of boy parts, when I broke off mid-sentence. Sean stood in the doorway.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I croaked back.
“They said you were in here.”
“Do you need me to leave for a minute?”
“Oh, no, no, I came to see you. You calmed down now?”
I wanted to say I had, but the emotions running through me now made me anything but calm. And now that Sean was here my heart threatened to jump out of my chest.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
Sean closed the distance between us, and my heart pounded faster as he reached out and took the cloth from my hand.
“Come on, two of us will get this done quicker.”
We set on scrubbing away the graffiti, which was now just a large, black, indistinguishable smudge. Relief filled me with every scrub as I dipped the cloth into the now lukewarm water.
I couldn’t help but break the silence with what was at the forefront of my mind.
“Are you in trouble?”
Sean paused mid-scrub and cast me a questioning look. I rolled my eyes.
“With Chris.”
“Oh.”
“I thought you might have been forbidden to come in here or something.”
A smile spread across his face that I didn’t expect.
He coughed. “I don’t think I have been ‘forbidden’ to do something since I was five years old.”
That wasn’t an answer so I just stared at him.
“Chris is cool. All is well.”
Oh goody!
I really needed to curb my inner sarcastic voice.
With both of us working on it, the wall was as good as new in no time, the horrible drawing just a memory.
We stood back and admired our handiwork.
“We’ve created a clean spot,” I said.
“I don’t think these walls have been disinfected for … well … ever.” Sean glanced around with a look of distaste and he tossed the cloth into the bucket I held, filled with mucky water.
“Thanks,” I said. “You always seem to be helping me clean up a mess.”
“You’ve certainly livened things up around here.” He took the bucket from me and we both gladly exited the men’s room.
After scrubbing my hands elbow deep in boiling hot water, I dragged my feet into the poolroom where I slumped onto the couch, zoning out of the conversation. I was exhausted, physically from pub room brawling and emotionally from Chris’s drama and disapproval. And Sean – what was with that tonight? Not to mention that I smelt like a urinal.
“Earth to Amy.”
I lifted my head from my hands. “Huh?”
Tess sat on the arm of the couch, touching the top of my hair. Chris stood beside her.
“Poor thing,” Tess said. “You must be exhausted.”
“Yeah, bar-room brawling will do that to you,” Sean said over the crack of the pool cue against the billiard balls. I just ignored him.
“Did you hear anything we just said?” Chris asked, annoyed.
“Sorry, what?”
Toby laughed and plonked himself on the couch opposite us. He crossed his legs on top of the coffee table and folded his arms behind his head. “Looks like someone is going to have to be carried up the stairs tonight.”
I yawned my words out. “I’m alriigggghhht.”
“Pfft, totally,” Stan laughed, turning from the jukebox.
Tess cut them down with a stern look. “What we were saying is we should have a fundraiser for the pub.”
My interest was piqued and I sat up straight. “What kind of fundraiser?”
“Save the Onslow,” Chris said.
“No.” Tess shook her head. “It should be something to do with your dad, get all the locals together as a kind of community spirit thing to help out in his time of need. We could hold a sausage sizzle and promote a working bee or something.”
My shoulders slumped. “What if nobody comes?”
“That’s a hell of a thing to say,” Sean snapped, mid-stride as he lined up to take a shot.
My eyes raised in surprise. “Is it?”
“Yeah, it is.” He challenged me. An awkward silence broke out over the group as Sean and I faced off.
I gave him a bored look. “Well, guess you would know; you seem to know everything.”
“You shouldn’t be so hard on your old man. Believe it or not he is well respected in Onslow and there are a lot of people out there that will help.” He leaned over to take his shot as if automatically ending the conversation, dismissing the idea that I would have anything to add. My blood began to boil.
“Is that right, is it? Well answer me this then: Where are they now? Because I don’t exactly see anyone breaking down the door with casseroles and get-well cards to see if Dad is okay. Actually, I haven’t seen a goddamned soul around here, except for sleazy, troublemaking blow-ins who only want to rip the place off.”
“Amy, come on.” Chris sighed.
I cut him a dark look. “Don’t you start. Did you pay for that beer?” My eyes flicked towards his empty glass on the bar. Chris’s eyes darkened as if what I had said had cut him to the bone. I regretted the words as soon as they’d flown venomously from my mouth. Without breaking his eyes from mine, Chris stood, dug into his back pocket and flipped out a twenty, slamming it on the bar.
“Keep the change, I’m hitting the sack. Gotta get up and earn my keep.” He started for the door.
“Chris, you don’t have to do a day shift,” I called after him.
He turned to me, my blood running cold at his stare. “What alternative is there, Amy? Families stick together, don’t they?” he said icily before leaving the room.
Chapter Twenty-One
After slipping Chris’s twenty-dollar bill into an envelope and writing ‘Don’t be a dick’ on it, I tiptoed up the hall and slid it under his door.
After our rather heated exchange I had time to think it over and let it seep in just how relieved I was that Chris was here. I knew he wouldn’t have hesitated the moment Sean called him; he had always been loyal like that. Sure, he had the tendency to be hard on people, but it was only because he expected the best. Chris always put in a hundred and ten percent so I couldn’t fault him for expecting a lot from others, too. It would be a massive contrast between Chris being here to help compared to the likes of Matt the Rat.
I cursed as a floorboard creaked underfoot as I made my escape down the darkened hallway. The hall was suddenly illuminated with light as a door opened behind me. Chris stood there, shirtless, with his electric toothbrush in hand, frowning at my ‘deer in the headlights’ stance.
He held up his hand as if telling me to wait a sec, disappeared from the doorway and I heard a gargle and spit, and he then reappeared, wiping the excess toothpaste off his lips with the back of his hand.
“You going to bed?” he asked.
Way to go, Captain Obvious.
I chose against the sarcastic response and just nodded.
Chris leaned against the door frame. “So, do you think they’ll really sell?” His eyes were serious, but they had softened. Maybe he was tired, like me.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Chris didn’t reply. Instead, he looked off into the swirl of the ’70s carpet, thoughtfully, as if he wasn’t entirely present in the here and now.
After a while he broke the silence. “Do you want them to?”
“No.” My response was immediate, certain.
Chris broke into a slow smile, for
the first time all night. “Okay. Then let’s do this.”
I didn’t know entirely what ‘this’ meant, but by the wicked glimmer in his eyes it seemed it meant he and I were in this together, and for the first time in a long time I felt part of the family again.
“Okay,” I agreed, smiling back. It was almost like a mutual truce and, as I noticed the glint of humour in Chris’s eyes, I relaxed. But then that same smile slid away as he stepped back into his room, the sound of paper crinkling under his bare foot.
Uh-oh!
Chris frowned, lifted up his foot and tilted his head sideways. “Don’t. Be. A. Dick?” he read aloud.
“GOODNIGHT!” I quickly backed away, quickstepping my way to my room, and slammed the door.
***
I sat bolt upright in bed as incessant pounding on my door threatened to break it from its hinges.
“Wakey-wakey!” Chris yelled.
Did he seriously just say wakey-wakey? Dork!
“Come on, get up, Amy! You didn’t think you could sleep in just because I was here, did you?” he called, his footsteps receding down the hallway and away from my door.
I rubbed at my eyes. What time was it? Heaven forbid I sleep in on a Sunday during my holidays. Oh, the horror! But he had a point, I guess: just because he was here to help out didn’t mean that I would … Holy hell, it was six a.m.! Was he freaking insane?
I threw myself back onto the bed and tucked myself into the doona like a cocoon. Chris, I love you, but seriously… No way!
I stirred again later at a softer knock and as I peeked one eye reluctantly open I saw piercing sunlight pushing its way through the cracks of my curtain. I would have mistaken it as a rather unlike-Chris awakening but then his voice called through the door.
“Amy, you better get up, there is someone here to see you.” For a moment I thought perhaps it was a dream, but then of course I knew it wasn’t as the door opened and Chris turfed my hairbrush at me from my dressing table.
“Up!”
Luckily for him the brush missed, but it didn’t stop my dramatics.
“Doooooooon’t,” I whined.
“Move it!”
