Elegy

by Jane Abbott

  She opened the envelope and closed it again. ‘Gabe, you don’t have to do this.’

  ‘Yeah. I do.’

  She gripped his knee. ‘What about you? It’ll be much harder than you think.’

  He placed his hand over hers and hoped he sounded surer than he felt. ‘I can take care of everything, just so long as I know you’re safe. That’s all I care about.’

  ‘I love you,’ she said.

  He blinked, unable to recall if she’d ever told him that before. ‘Ditto,’ he said, and grinned. ‘So do this for me. Okay?’

  ‘Casey’s been here, Gabe. I don’t know how often, or where, but he left another token down at that shed where Michael and I had the argument. That’s why Michael’s quiet.’ She told him about the straw mannequin.

  ‘Shit.’ Gabe’s grip tightened; that definitely explained the messed fence. ‘Maybe you need to leave today. I can take you now. Once you’re out of here, it doesn’t matter what Casey says or does. He can’t touch you.’

  ‘No.’ Her voice was low, silvered like the rest of her. Steel. ‘Not without saying goodbye to Dad. I won’t put him through that again, and Barb doesn’t deserve it either.’ Dad. It was another first, but Gabe was growing used to them now. ‘Besides, there’s a list of jobs a mile long on the fridge.’

  Fuck the jobs, was what he wanted to say, but didn’t. ‘Then here’s what we do. Casey’s obviously watching us – me, you and Michael, maybe Jen.’ His heart slowed a bit at that thought. ‘I told her I’d take her to the fair tonight and she’ll have my guts if I call it off, but I don’t want to leave the two of you here. So we’ll all go.’

  ‘Gabe –’

  ‘Hear me out, okay? I don’t know what Casey’s capable of, or what he’s got planned, but right now we’re all safer out in the open – Jen too – as long as we stay together. Even if Casey shows up, he won’t do anything. Not there, not with so many people around.’ But on the farm, away from everything, there was no telling what he might do. Or how Michael might retaliate. Gabe didn’t add that his fear of Michael’s anger was greater than any fear of Michael and Cait outing themselves. He didn’t need to. ‘Then tomorrow morning we leave after Jim and Barb get back. I know it’s not fair on them, but I don’t think we have any choice. I can handle everything, I promise.’

  She didn’t answer immediately. When she did, it wasn’t as he expected. ‘Has she made you happy? The girl?’

  Gabe ignored the prick of irritation at the omission of Jen’s name. ‘Yeah, she has – is.’ But that was pretty much all he could say, because he was as surprised as anyone by what had happened, and how fast. Had he been right about fate? That it was real and there was no escaping it? He hoped so, for his and Jen’s sake; he prayed it wasn’t, for Cait’s and Michael’s.

  ii

  Things were looking up at last, and Todd was pleased. He’d laughed when Gabe had opened that envelope and looked around, searching for him while trying to hide it from her. But Gabe would never find old Todd, would he? Because Todd played in the dark places now, with all the other shadows. Todd knew how to hide.

  The best part had been the phone call, catching him out, getting him primed. Todd wanted Gabe to know what was coming, and he’d had plenty of time to think and to plan; all he had to do was wait for the right moment.

  When the doctors had opened up his arm and scraped out the maggots, he’d dreamed of his revenge. And when he’d awoken and told them, he’d shared the rot, because there was plenty to go around. Already it’d spread, because that’s what rot does; it spreads into everything and eats at it until there was nothing left. Nothing left. Just like his arm.

  But still there was fun to be had while he waited. Maybe he’d tell her parents what their sweet little girl had been doing. Such a sweet little girl. She’s doin’ him and he’s doin’ her and maybe Mummy and Daddy oughta know about it. Maybe he’d show them that photo. And all the others too.

  Todd had sat outside while they were in that room and he’d laughed, because when he was done with Gabe, when Mr Perfect got what he deserved, Todd was going to take a little of what he’d been enjoying. Just like he’d told him he would.

  And won’t that be fun?

  Because the maggots were gone and he was strong again.

  He hadn’t forgotten about Webster or Caitlin. Especially Caitlin. Oh, no. But they were staying hidden, in that shit heap of a farmhouse, and he’d need to lure them out if he was to save her from that sicko. That had to be the only reason she’d done it, he kept telling himself, trying to drown out the other piss-weak voice in his head that kept reasoning and rationalising – shutupshutupshutup! Webster must’ve forced her, put her under some kind of a spell, snapping her will as easily as he’d broken Todd’s arm. Because she’d never have chosen him over Todd, would she? Not if she was in her right mind. No, never.

  He wondered if Webster had seen his present yet, the one he’d left hanging in the shed. He wondered if he was scared. He should be, just like his brother was. Maybe that’s why he was hiding. But soon he’d come out and he’d bring Caitlin with him. Then the games could begin. And doesn’t a Casey always win?

  iii

  Their first official date was hardly that. In fact, it began as no date at all.

  ‘I’ll have to meet you there,’ Jenny told Gabe when he rang. ‘Mum’s insisting on a family showing. Like it’s going to make a difference.’

  Sidestepping her bitterness, he hammered another nail into the coffin. ‘Actually, that suits ’cause Michael and Cait are coming too.’

  ‘Is that such a good idea?’ she asked, fighting her disappointment.

  ‘Yeah, it is.’

  ‘Fine,’ she grumbled, and heard him sigh.

  ‘Look, I know it’s not what I promised. I’m sorry. But it’s important and I’ll make it up to you.’

  ‘Yes, you will,’ she told him, and he laughed.

  ‘I’ll meet you at the entrance around seven.’ He hung up, leaving Jenny to glare at her phone. She didn’t care about the fair; she just wanted to see Gabe. Only, now their date had become a group booking and she knew once school started it’d be even harder to find time alone with him.

  The past week had been her happiest since leaving Melbourne, maybe even before that. He’d made her laugh, he’d made her cross, he’d made her melt and he’d made her strong. When he kissed her, she never wanted it to end. When he loved her, she cried out for relief, then longed for him to begin again. He’d called himself a simple guy, but there was nothing simple about Gabe. He was gentle and hard, soft and strong, kind and brutally honest. And while they were secluded, on the farm or at the motel, away from Short Town and school and her parents, there was nothing she wouldn’t do and nothing he wouldn’t dare.

  She was still learning to accommodate his needs – and there were plenty of them – but there was time to play and to experiment, for him to teach and to show. All the time in the world. And just when she thought she was beginning to understand him, he’d surprise her, sometimes even shock her, as he had on that day after he and the others had finished up at the yards.

  Jenny had sat high on the metal fence, clear of any danger, watching as Gabe cut a few cows at a time from the herd and prodded them into the narrow enclosure – the crush, Gabe had told her. They queued nose to tail while Michael and Cait brushed their backs with long thin lines of drench. When they were done, Jim pulled the lever, the gate sprung open and the anointed ones would rush through to freedom while the next lot butted their way along to receive their stripes, knocking and rocking the steel bars. It was monotonous work, shouts and curses and cattle calls carrying on a cold wind, but Jenny had warmed to see Gabe in his element. Every now and then he’d glance up and grin, eyeing her almost greedily, and she warmed some more, wishing they’d hurry up and finish.

  But when they had, she and Gabe hadn’t gone back to the house as she’d hoped. Instead, he’d led her to the shed. Handing her a jacket and helmet, he started up his road b
ike and slowly backed it out onto the drive.

  Jenny shook her head. A dirt bike on grass was one thing; it was quite another to ride pillion on a motorbike. Not to mention illegal. She pointed to the P plates he’d tossed onto one of the workbenches. Gabe’s licence was limited, and Jenny knew the rules; her father had made sure of that.

  Gabe shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it. I want to show you something.’ When he pulled on his own helmet, forestalling any argument, she sighed and did the same.

  The ride was exhilarating, the bike so different to the one she was used to, Gabe so different to Michael. He hadn’t let her hold him, instead telling her to grip the bar behind her and just go with the bike.

  He’d turned off the dirt road, not north into town but south-east, following roads Jenny didn’t know, past farms and through tiny hamlets, steering clear of the highway but taking one of the overpasses towards the mountain, and then it was up and up and around and around, Jenny letting herself go with the bike, just as he’d said. He slowed as they entered the township near the top, and Jenny eyed the huge stately homes with their lush gardens, but, once clear, he sped up again before turning into a narrow laneway for a final climb, stopping when they reached a dead-end. There were no other vehicles, and he killed the motor.

  Without speaking, he took her hand and led her up a path that wound through dense bush. It levelled off and suddenly they were in the open, on the very edge of the world. The wind was strong and the air freezing, a faint mist drifting before them. A couple of wooden benches perched on a granite ledge, and an old single railing skirted the perimeter.

  ‘Oh, wow,’ she said, dropping her helmet onto one of the benches and wandering over to the rail, bracing herself against the wind. What was it with the Websters and views? This made the small hill behind the waterhole, where she’d stood with Michael, shrink to nothing. This was spectacular.

  Gabe came up behind her, his arms encircling to hold her steady, and she delighted in his warmth and the dusty cow smell of him.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s like I’m on top of the world,’ she replied.

  ‘Yeah.’ Gabe dipped his head, and she felt his lips and his tongue high on her neck, behind her ear. ‘Take off your jeans.’

  She stiffened. ‘What, here?’ It was all she could manage.

  ‘Yeah, here,’ he said, and licked her ear before biting it softly. His breath was hot. Or was that her? ‘You’ve been on top of the world all afternoon and I want to be there with you. Please?’

  ‘But what if –’

  ‘There’s no one else, Jen. Only you and me.’ He released her then, stepping back, giving her room.

  Turning to face him, seeing that strange expression in his eyes and his slow smile, she nodded. ‘Yes.’ God, yes! Because this was what he did to her. This was how he made her feel. Every time.

  But when she went to unzip her jacket, he shook his head. ‘It’s too cold. Just your jeans. And your knickers.’ That smile again, teasing but hungry.

  She did as he asked while he watched. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his eyes narrowed, bright and gold and as fiery as Michael’s had been that night at dinner, when he’d caught Caitlin’s gaze. When she was done, her clothes and boots and inhibitions piled at her feet, he unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans before leaning down to kiss her. Then he turned her slowly and she gripped the rail.

  ‘Enjoy the view,’ he whispered.

  View? What view? There was only the grip of his hands on her hips, the cold, cold of her legs and the heat between them, and she’d seen no view until after it was over.

  Whenever she remembered that day – even after everything else they’d done – she couldn’t help but blush, and there was that pulse she’d come to recognise, that quick hot surge and a longing in the pit of her stomach. But now such freedoms were coming to an end and Jenny knew things would have to change.

  The afternoon of the fair, the weather worsened, squally with fits of rain, before settling. When the wind dropped so did the temperature, and moisture clogged the air, fogging it in thick strands.

  ‘I don’t think we’ll be staying long tonight,’ her mother warned Chris, as they all trudged to the fair. ‘It’s far too cold.’ Jenny hoped she’d keep her word. Gabe could take her home later. Much, much later.

  He was waiting at the entrance, and her heart skipped to see him, just like her father had told her it would. But Jenny knew her heart would always skip a beat when she saw Gabe. Always.

  He seemed to stand a head taller than everyone else, radiant in the gloom. He didn’t kiss her in front of her parents, but put his arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. Jenny’s family wandered off after her vague promise to join them later.

  ‘Where’s Michael?’ she asked. Gabe looked tired, and she felt a twinge of guilt for her earlier fuss.

  ‘Waiting inside. Cait’s with him.’ He seemed distracted and kept glancing around, as though he was expecting someone.

  ‘I missed you,’ she said, reminding him she was there. Group booking or not, it was supposed to be a date and so far it wasn’t exactly going to plan.

  Hearing her tone, he was quick to smile. ‘Yeah? How much?’ She stood on her toes and whispered in his ear and he laughed out loud, making heads turn. ‘That’ll be ten Hail Marys for you. Come on, are you ready to sample Short Town’s finest?’

  ‘I thought I already had,’ she said, and he smiled again, deeper. Jenny loved seeing him smile, making him smile.

  ‘Just getting started, babe.’ And he pulled her into the crowd.

  In a place where not much happened, people quickly learned not to let little things like rain and fog stop them, and the old agricultural arena was packed. Musicians played with numb fingers while audiences stamped their frozen feet. Showies yelled and called, encouraging sugar-hyped kids to pester parents for rides or tickets. Food stalls flogged meat pies, sausage rolls and hot chips, the scent of fried food drawing the crowds, while those with gourmet palates crowded out tents, sipping wine and nibbling local produce.

  They caught up with the others in the sideshow alley and Gabe seemed to forget about whatever it was that bothered him, he and Michael competing at the shooting range, trying to outdo each other. But it was Caitlin who proved the best – and Jenny the worst – snagging the top prize and selecting a giant stuffed panda, black and white, of course, which Michael carried around for her.

  They ate terrible food, applauded mediocre music, and Gabe coaxed Jenny onto a couple of gut-churning rides, laughing as she screamed. It was strange to watch Caitlin with Gabe. For the most part she was solemn and serious, as she always was, but he seemed to know how to cheer her up, and when he joked, Jenny heard her laugh for the first time – soft and silvery, like chimes. She didn’t really know how she should feel about Caitlin, especially after what she’d revealed the day before, but she knew she hadn’t warmed to her. That would take time.

  But if Gabe made Caitlin happy, with Michael she shone, as though lit from within. When he spoke, she listened, when he moved, she moved with him, at his side, almost touching but never quite. And he was just as devoted, following her with his eyes but taking her lead and not touching, not even to hold her hand. He was clearly trying hard to keep his feelings and whatever else under control, but every now and then Jenny would catch him looking at Caitlin with such yearning it saddened her. They were beautiful, synchronised and harmonious, so different from the rest of the people there, Gabe the only one coming close to matching them.

  Watching them together, Jenny began to wonder if all of Gabe’s fears were for nothing. Michael and Caitlin were behaving like the siblings they weren’t rather than the lovers they were, and it seemed to be working. Heads turned as they passed, but it wasn’t unreasonable; they were beautiful and they were strange – it was no wonder people were intrigued. Except for a trusted handful, Gabe fielded any friends who greeted them, guarding the two of them fiercely. But Michael didn’t seem t
o notice. It was as though he’d already removed himself from the life he’d known, becoming more as Caitlin had always been.

  The four of them stopped at a few craft stalls, browsing for nothing and, at one of the bigger ones, crammed with cheap market fashion found at any fair, Caitlin lifted a long dress from a rack, holding it up to herself and smiling at Michael. It wasn’t Jenny’s sort of thing – green and kind of shapeless – but against Caitlin it looked a million bucks.

  And that’s when it happened.

  Michael stroked her face as if he were brushing away a stray hair. The temperature flared, the wet ground steamed and everyone tore at coats and scarves, mopped sweaty red faces and turned to stare at the two who had eyes only for each other. And for just a second there was a quick shimmer, a glow that pulsed around the two of them, and a melody that drifted with the mist and would not be caught.

  ‘Cool it,’ Gabe muttered, grabbing his brother’s shoulder and breaking the connection. Everything subsided again, but people kept staring, and a few started whispering and shaking their heads.

  Almost on cue, the weather closed in and the wind picked up, whipping the air and thinning the crowd, and people hurried off with their suspicions. Gabe shepherded the other three away; the green dress puddled on the ground where Caitlin had dropped it.

  Once clear, Gabe let the others wander on and pulled Jenny to one side, between a couple of tents. She felt the first drops of rain on her face as she looked up at him.

  ‘We have to go,’ he said. ‘Call your mum, find out where she is.’

  She touched his face. ‘It’s not going to work, is it? With them, here in Short Town?’

  He sighed. ‘No.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Gabe.’

  His arms tightened around her. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Thank you for a wonderful date,’ she said, and he smiled. But it was distant and sad, like Caitlin’s.