River of Lies

by Sammy King

  Tilly snorted. I looked over at the police lady who was standing beside me, and had obviously heard the same conversation I had. Her face was creased with worry. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I couldn’t seem to bring my face to do it. I sighed again and went out onto the front step. Dylan looked up at me over Tilly’s head and gave me a warm smile.

  “You ready Mon?” he asked.

  I nodded, as I searched Tilly’s face to try and read what she was thinking, but all I could see was hate. She snorted again and headed down the steps towards the car. As I went to follow, the police lady took my hand. I turned, her face still filled with worry.

  “Remember, anything you need” she said. Her eyes pleaded with me to call her.

  Chapter three.

  The days that lead up to mum’s funeral seemed to go by in a blur, the only family we had was dad, Michael and Shelly; dad was sitting in a cell somewhere, or at least that’s what I assumed, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. It was just a pauper’s funeral, nothing special, basically a wooden box, a man standing in a hall, he told us what a great mother she was. Michael and Shelly sat behind Tilly, Dylan and I. I could feel Michael’s hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze every now and then. It was comforting to know that someone cared. Tilly spent the whole time glaring at me, as if I wasn’t welcome. But there the preacher continued to tell us what a wonderful mother she had been, I know you’re not supposed to laugh at funerals, but great mother, well that was just laughable. My mother was anything but a good mother. If she wasn’t drunk she was high and if she wasn’t high she was on a rampage of anger, shaking and vomiting.

  Even though I was bullied at school for my clothes being dirty, it was better than being at home. The teachers tried to help. One time my welfare coordinator Mrs Van Hussen gave me a new uniform, new shoes and a new bag. I got home from school and my mum was coming down from her recent drug fix, what followed was a two hour lecture, as she called my teacher a slut, whore and cunt; basically anything derogatory that she could think of.

  The next day as she staggered like an old drunk, her hair unwashed and matted, her eyes sunken in and slurring her words, mum ordered me to take her to the office. Her nails were bitten down to bloody quicks and she still had vomit on her shirt from being sick during the night. She stood there with me in my dirty uniform and broken shoes in the office, demanding at the top of her voice to see Mrs Van Hussen. When Mrs Van Hussen did come out, she screamed as loud as her shrieking voice would go that no kid of hers was going to accept charity off some stuck up bitch teacher. She thrust the new uniform and shoes back through the little window of the office, and stormed out. It was one of the most embarrassing days of my life; although, by far not the most embarrassing, this was my life. A series of embarrassing events that I seemed to lurch from, all caused by my mother, I longed for the day that I turned eighteen and could leave, I had planned to leave and never turn back.

  But there I sat at her funeral, my emotions a mix between relief, shame, guilt, sadness and anger. I didn’t know what the appropriate feeling to have was. Tily hadn’t stopped crying the whole time, she locked herself in her and Dylan’s room at their flat and there she stayed crying tears upon tears. I couldn’t seem to shed them. I tried. I thought I should. But none would come. I tried everything to get them started, I tried poking myself in the eye, plucking my eyebrows, cutting onions, but they never lasted. I wanted the relief that Tilly seemed to get from her incessant crying and screaming, but it just never came. Instead I had spent my days with a gnawing feeling that churned my gut that twisted my insides up and spat them out.

  Dylan was the rock between Tilly and me every day she seemed to hate me more. He was there, he let Tilly take her emotions out on him, she would scream at him and he just continued to comfort her. I didn’t need to scream, I didn’t need to cry, it was enough for me to just be next to him, with his arm around me. That’s all it took to make me feel better. But then I felt guilty, I felt like maybe I didn’t love mum enough, maybe I wasn’t a good daughter because I didn’t scream like Tilly did. Just maybe Tilly was right, I was the favourite and I didn’t deserve her favouritism.

  Michael and Shelly came to visit with us regularly. Well it was more a case of they would go into Tilly’s room and start up the bong. Dylan, hated drugs, he hated that Tilly suddenly took a liking to them. So he and I would sit in the lounge and listen to the giggling from behind the closed door of the bedroom. I hated when they came. Although I had appreciated Michael for the care he took of me, I didn’t like them coming over, because Tilly stoned. It was never a good thing. She became like a raging bull, and I was the red flag. So as soon as I saw Michael and Shelly emerge from the room, I took that as my cue to lock myself in my bedroom and not come out till morning. Otherwise the taunts, insults and snide remarks hurt more than watching my mother being buried. Tilly wasn’t always nasty to me sometimes she was as sweet as pie. Those times never lasted for very long though.

  One of those occasions was when we went to the river for a swim. It was just after the New Year when we went to the river, and we were lying in the grass, the breeze swept across our bare stomachs, our fingers tangled each other’s hands, as we watched the clouds pass. The sound of the water trickled over the rocks and the kookaburra’s laughed in the trees. I was on edge as I waited for the real Tilly to come back, but in that time I wanted to enjoy her while she was being nice.

  “Life feels better now” Tilly said.

  I smiled it was true, at that very moment life felt better. It didn’t just feel better, it was better. But how quickly life can change; life can suddenly change from being a simple one to a difficult one, just in the space of a lazy, hot summer.

  It’s always the middle of February that everyone is fed up with summer, we are always sick of the sweat, the stickiness, the blow flies and mosquitoes. Everyone seemed to be getting cranky with each other and of course where everyone was just cranky, Tilly was on a war path. It didn’t matter what we did, it wasn’t good enough. I hadn’t washed the dishes well enough, the floor wasn’t vacuumed right, and the shower wasn’t running right, nothing was right. So Dylan and I were both so grateful when she said that she was going to go away with her best friend Chantelle for the weekend.

  As Dylan and I stood in the door way, we waved goodbye and watched as Chantelle’s red commodore ambled its way out the driveway and sped up the road, we both sighed with relief.

  “So what do you want to do today?” Dylan asked.

  “Swim” I practically shouted.

  It was an atrocious day, it had hit the 40’s for the sixth day in a row, and I thought my skin was going to start falling off me if I didn’t get some relief soon. Dylan grinned, spun on his heel and raced to the linen closet pulling out towels, sun cream, and hats like a mad man. I giggled with excitement, partly at the thrill of being able to spend time with Dylan without Tilly as well as the relief that the cool water on my skin would bring.

  As we jumped into the car, the leather seats of the old sandman burnt our thighs and Dylan’s hands were scorched on the steering wheel. The car kicked to life, and soon we were cruising towards the river with the windows down and the thoughts of the cool water on our skin.

  It wasn’t long before the road changed from traffic and buildings, to gum trees shading the road and glimpses of the river off to the side of the road. We had our special spot, one where not many people went, where we knew that we would have a stretch of the river to ourselves. We passed through the main street, past the shops, Dylan found where he needed to turn and shot down a dirt track, only just wide enough for the car to bounce down, as we crested the little hill, heaven awaited. I could feel my heart begin to race with the anticipation of that water, of the relief it would bring. Dylan hadn’t even really had time to stop the car, before I had flung the door open and was running down to the water’s edge, dropping my towel and hat onto the river bank, and edging my way into the chilled water.

  As the water hit m
y skin, I became covered in Goosebumps, it was divine. I sighed with relief, as slowly my whole body began to cool down to its core. I looked up at Dylan who stood on the edge of the river, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  “Feel better princess?” he laughed.

  “Much” I said with a splash. In which he retaliated by running towards me into the water and dunking my head under the water, laughing hysterically. His arms weren’t overly muscular but he was strong as he grabbed my waist and held me above the water and threw me into the depths of the river.

  I think we must have stayed in the water, floating, and swimming up and down for a couple of hours, because when we finally got out, our skins were shrivelled like prunes. We laid on the edge of the bank in the long grass, warming our bodies for a little while longer, the breeze playing across our bare torso’s, tickling the water beads that sat on our skin.

  That night we stopped at Harry’s chip shop and ate hamburgers and potato cakes out of the back of the panel van at the park, we watched as sweating and flustered mum’s snap at their kids who played lazily on the playground in the waning sun.

  “I don’t want to go home yet, it’s still hot” I said as Dylan was scrunching up the salty chip paper to put in the bin.

  “What do you want to do?” he called over his shoulder while he walked to the bin.

  “Go up the mountain and watch the stars”

  Dylan laughed, as he shut the back doors on the panel van, he called over the roof, as I got into the passenger seat.

  “You know you never see any stars there, because of all the lights”

  “It’ll be cooler there” I said, as Dylan got back in the car, and fired up the engine.

  “Your right, let’s go”

  The kids followed us with cheers, while the mothers looked on with distaste as Dylan spun the tyres, and covered them in white, stinking smoke. Laughter fell from my lips and I turned up the stereo, as we sped off up the Mountain, to the coolness of heights and the dazzling lights of city below us.

  As we rounded the car park of the observatory, we saw Michael and Shelly sitting in their convertible red Volkswagen beetle, with the top down, and by the flickering of the lighter I knew they were passing the bong. Dylan pulled just short of the passenger window, honking his horn, as Shelly jumped and spun around, Dylan hung his hand out the window waving madly.

  Shelly, got out the car, slapping the bonnet of the panel van with a laugh.

  “What are you two up to then?” she said as she leant in the window, so we could see straight down between her bare breasts, her eyes red bloodshot and her breath stinking of dope smoke.

  “Tilly’s gone away for the weekend. We are just trying to stay cool” Dylan said, I wound down the window for Michael to stick his head through.

  “You babysitting mate?” Michael laughed, as he tussled my hair, I frowned at him, and looked over at Dylan, who winked at me.

  “I might ask Shelly the same question mate” Dylan laughed, the look on Michaels face caused me to snort with laughter, a look of disbelief and anger. Michael shrugged, he strutted to the front of the van, where he rolled himself a smoke and lit up, leaning against the car, watching the lights.

  We were all silent for what seemed forever, Michael and Shelly probably because they were off with the marijuana fairies, but for me, I watched the lights, the buzzing of the taillights up and down the highway. I hated it down there. It was too busy, too many people. I longed for a place where I could have space to move, a place where there was perpetual freedom.

  I didn’t mean freedom from rules and laws, but to be able to dream, dance, and sing without someone hearing you, seeing you or questioning you, freedom without judgement. But there in the car that night, even despite being surrounded by people I had that taste of freedom. The silence was broken by Michael’s hacking cough from the front of the car. I jumped in surprise and felt Dylan’s hand on mine.

  “You ok?” he asked, looking concerned.

  I smiled, I was more than ok; I was feeling great.

  “Yes”

  “Wanna go somewhere else?” he said “Somewhere you can see the stars properly?”

  I grinned and nodded.

  “Youse goin’ already?” Shelly asked.

  Dylan nodded as he fired up the car, there was no need for explanation with them, in fact they were probably glad to see us going; we were no doubt cramping their bong time.

  Chapter Four.

  We didn’t have to drive very far to find isolated places; the mountains are full of little dirt roads to hide in. One of our favourites was the dirt back road, and as we ambled and bounced our way down the narrow path, I could look up through the tree’s to glimpse the moon slightly crested and shining down. The road was beautiful but spooky all in one. The trees seem to loom over the road, their branches like the gnarled fingers of a mean old man. There were no street lights, just the headlights from the car, that seemed to cause shadows to dance in front and to the side of us and the moonlight that gave everything a slightly blue haze.

  Dylan found a little cut out, where the trees were sparse enough that we could see the stars clearly, and as he killed the engine, the atmosphere seemed to thicken; the trees that were around us appeared bigger and more eerie than usual. I shivered involuntarily.

  “You ok? You’re not cold are you?” Dylan asked as he rubbed my arm.

  I shook my head.

  “Just a bit spooked”

  He smiled at me and put his arm out, touching my shoulder.

  “Aww come here” he said pulling me into him.

  He smelled so good; the smell of the river still lingered on his chest. I started to become a little nervous at my feelings. I felt safe, and it felt right here, but at the same time, I wanted him to take my face in his hands and kiss my lips. It wasn’t right; I knew that, Dylan was Tilly’s boyfriend and she hated me enough as it was. It wasn’t right. I shifted in my seat uncomfortable of the stirrings in my emotions that were going on, Dylan obviously mistook this as me still feeling spooked, as he held me tighter against his chest and kissed softly the top of my head. As intoxicating as the feeling was, it made me even more uncomfortable. Quickly I moved out of his arms, but he caught my hand.

  “Mon, what’s wrong?” His eyes darkened, yet they twinkled in a wicked way that caused my heart to do flip flops.

  Dylan still had my hand in his, it felt nice. He reached up and touched my face. I felt a tear begin to dribble from my eye. Dylan wiped it away with his finger, and let his fingers linger on my chin.

  “Talk to me, Mon, what’s the matter? What’s making you cry?”

  I shook my head; I didn’t know the words to tell him. How do you tell the man that’s in love with your sister, that you are falling in love with him? His touch lingered on my cheek, I could barely look into his eyes, as my heart ached, my fingers ached to touch him and the stirring that was building up between my legs was getting very hard to ignore.

  “I, I don’t know what’s going on, I just feel weird”

  Dylan ran his fingers through my hair and he shifted in his seat to come closer to me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and pulled me back against his chest, I could feel his face close to my cheek, his breath near my ear. He took my hand in his free hand, and entwined my fingers with his. Dylan pulled his face back, and then looked deep into my eyes. His eyes so dark, that I began to melt. I began to feel dizzy, my emotions were jumping about all over the place, and that was when I felt his lips, so gentle on mine. His lips opened my lips gently, as he pulled me in closer to him. I closed my eyes, taking in and trying to remember every feeling of my first kiss. His tongue touched my bottom lip. I tried to push away the guilt of knowing what I was doing was wrong, but I longed for it to never end.

  But the kiss had to end. It had to stop. Dylan pulled away from me and turned to stare out his window into the darkness.

  “I’m sorry Mon, I shouldn’t have done that, let’s just go home, ok?” he said, as he turned the
key in the engine, bringing the panel van to life.

  We were silent on the way home; I watched the world pass by, still able to feel Dylan’s lips on my lips, his tongue running across my bottom lip. There was a feeling deep down inside of me that I had never felt before and excitement like that which I had never experienced. When we pulled into the driveway, Dylan got out of the car without saying a word. It wasn’t until we were inside the flat, that he turned to me. He took my hand, and with his other hand touched my face again. That excitement began to mount, in anticipation of another kiss. But as quick as it came, he dropped my hand and turned away.

  “Night Mon”

  Dylan walked away and shut the door to his room. My heart sunk as the gravity of my actions, of my feelings, set in. I didn’t know how I would ever look at Dylan the same. And what if he hated me now? My mind was a spiral of thoughts, of self-doubt, guilt and lust. That night I hardly slept, I couldn’t stop thinking about my first kiss, but what it would mean for us, for all three of us.

  I lay there looking at the roof of my make shift bedroom in Dylan and Tilly’s house, thinking about my first kiss. It wasn’t how I imagined it. I was sixteen years old, and had never found a boy that wanted to kiss me, I figured it was because of my clothes that were always dirty and the smell of smoke and bong water that seemed to constantly ooze from my pores even though I never touched either drug. No boys had ever been interested and I had never found a boy that I was interested in. But what Dylan did to me, the way he made me melt into a puddle. I had never felt it before with him, I always liked him and I wanted to be close to him as often as possible, because he made me feel safe. But what I felt there in the car on the back road of the mountain caused my insides to ache with desire. I wanted more than a kiss from him. I wanted to do all the things that I had been taught about in sex Ed; all the things that I had seen in the magazines that the boys at school stole from their dad’s. I wanted to feel every part of Dylan, I wanted to taste every inch of him. At that moment in the darkness of the room, Tilly never even existed as I fantasised what a life with Dylan would be like.