They did stop me. If this is my punishment I should have disobeyed sooner.
‘It scares me that you’re violent. You could kill someone if you lost your temper.’ She glances at David, but he doesn’t say anything.
Outside of boxing, I have never hit anyone. I’ve never even come close. Who does Sally think I am?
‘Whose idea was it for me to join you for dinner? You know I spend my evenings at the gym. Why didn’t you text?’
‘Rosa was keen that you join us and we were only a couple of blocks away.’
‘I thought so. She wanted you to catch me sparring.’
‘Come on, Che,’ Sally says. ‘Rosa didn’t know you were sparring. This is not about her, this is about you.’
‘Every time I try to talk about Rosa you change the subject. You don’t want to talk about her. You don’t want to recognise there’s something deeply wrong with her.’
‘Seriously, Che? Deeply wrong? We know she had developmental issues. Yes, she can be socially awkward. She’s ten years old. She’s behaving like a ten-year-old. Stop seeing—’
‘I know how old my sister is.’
‘Rosa worships you,’ Sally says. She’s about to cry. ‘Do you know how long she saved up the money to buy your birthday present?’
‘Do you know how Apinya’s guinea pig died? Rosa—’
David puts up his hand. I’m close to screaming at them both. But I can’t, can I? That would be violent.
‘Che,’ David says in his let’s-be-calm voice. ‘I know you didn’t want to come here. We know you’d rather be in Sydney. But acting out like this isn’t helping anyone, least of all yourself.’
‘I’m not acting out! I was telling you what Rosa did in—’
The hand goes up again. I have a strong urge to punch it.
‘How can we trust you when you won’t accept responsibility? When you try to blame Rosa for everything?’
I stare at Sally. I’ve never blamed Rosa for anything she didn’t do, let alone for everything.
‘I give up,’ I say. ‘One day you’re going to see what Rosa is and you’re going to wish you’d listened to me. I’m going to the gym.’
‘Che!’ Sally says.
‘No, let him,’ I hear David say as I stride away angrier than I’ve ever been. They’re never going to listen to me.
I work out as hard as I can, not caring that it’s my day off, that I should be giving my muscles a rest. It’s three hours before the anger is out of my system, before I can think about the parentals, especially Sally, without wanting to destroy every punching bag in the gym.
I can’t go back there. I’ll get angry again. I can’t stand to see either of them. Or Rosa. Bloody Rosa, who is with Sojourner. Would she think it weird if I texted her to see if Rosa’s behaving herself? Probably.
I pull my phone out. There are a million texts. None from Sojourner. But several from Rosa.
—I asked the smartest questions. Again. Sid likes me best now.
I text the parentals. —I’ll come home when I’m less – I hesitate: I can’t type angry because Sally thinks I’m a rage monster – upset.
I sit on the bench outside the change room staring at Sojourner’s number. I could ask her out. In a friend way. We could hang out. Maybe if I suggest Jaime join us?
I start to type —Wanna see a movie? I stop. I don’t want to see a movie. I could ask if she wants to go for a run. She’s already suggested that. I’ve been wanting to do the track as far around the island as you can go.
—What are you doing?
God. That’s shit.
—Thinking of going for a run, I add. —Wanna join me? Jaime too?
Ugh. I put my phone in my pocket and decide against showering. I go to the mirrors and shadow-box, focusing on defence, bobbing, weaving, ducking, getting out of the way of my imaginary foe who is ten centimetres taller than me.
My phone does not buzz.
I get on the treadmill, run for twenty minutes. Towel myself down. Check my phone. Nothing. It’s almost half an hour since I texted Sojourner. I do not want to go home. I do not want to work out anymore. I want to see someone I’m not related to.
I text Leilani. —What are you doing?
Then I shower, change and check my phone.
—It’s supposed to be What are you wearing? Also, eww, don’t sext me.
—Funny. I wish to rebel against my parents by not going home. Can you assist me in my rebellion?
—I’m heading to a private showing with a new designer, who you won’t have heard of since you haven’t heard of any of the established designers. I doubt you’re dressed for it.
—I’ll have you know my tracky dacks and T-shirt are clean.
—You don’t get extra points for your hideous attire being unstained.
—I didn’t say it wasn’t stained. I said it was clean.
—I communicate with you why exactly?
—My charm. Showing of what?
—Droll. Clothes. What else?
I think about sending her a list. Turnips? Wallaroos? Dandruff?
—What’s up with your olds, Che? Why are they pissed? Does your virginity embarrass them?
—Funny. I promised I wouldn’t spar. Then they busted me sparring.
—Ah.
—Yup.
—At least you didn’t kill a man in Reno.
—They’re pretty sure that’s next.
—Have they met you?
—Doubtful.
—Your punishment is?
—They don’t trust me anymore.
—That’s their terrible punishment? I’m underwhelmed. I thought they’d whip you or something.
—Violence is wrong, Leilani.
A text from Rosa:
—They’re cranky with you. I told them that you’re mostly good and they shouldn’t be so mad. Did you know that Sid is scared of heights?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I decide to do that run even without Sojourner, and head to the East River Parkway. It’s what Georgie calls the golden hour, with long, soft shadows. Georgie’s been bugging me for photos. I stop to photograph the side of an old building. It’s the kind of thing she would appreciate. The building next to it has been demolished, but somehow the remaining building has a metal fire escape dangling from its side, leading to nowhere. I send it to Georgie. She dreams of living in this city.
I take more photos for her, including one of a giant inflatable rat outside a clothing store. I should ask Leilani what that’s about. I kind of like the randomness of it.
My phone pings. I have the sound up loud, hoping to hear from Sojourner. Instead there’s another text from Rosa.
—You better come home. They’re getting crankier.
I’m tempted to text her back. But that’ll only bring a cascade of even more annoying texts.
Then the parentals:
—When are you coming home?
—I’m not sure. Going for a run.
—Let us know.
—Ok.
Rosa texts again:
—Did you know fear of heights has a fancy name? Vertigo.
My phone pings again. Rosa is succeeding in getting to me. I’m tempted not to look.
—You want to run? Sojourner texts. I gotta get out. Feeling too restless to study.
—Sure.
We meet on the park side of the Sixth Street pedestrian bridge over the FDR Drive. Sojourner takes off before I have a chance to say hi.
‘So who’s shitting you?’ I ask as I catch up with her.
She shoots me a sidelong look. ‘Who’s shitting on me?’
‘Who in your life is annoying you at this time?’
‘Do all Australians talk as weird as you?’
‘Every single one.’
She grins. ‘Mom. Mama too. They’ve been at me for disrespecting your parents.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Not your fault.’
‘You were defending me.’
‘Nah. Yeah.
Some. Mostly what I said was aimed at my moms. Not that I thought they’d listen. Adults don’t. They’re always right.’
I laugh. ‘So fuckin’ true. Whatcha gunna do?’
‘If I said that in front of my moms they would wash my mouth out with soap.’
‘Metaphorically?’
‘Actually. I haven’t used a swear in front of them since I was five years old.’
‘They sound tough.’
‘Mom more than Mama. Though it’s not like I’d ever sass Mama either. Mama’s more quiet disappointment. Sometimes that’s worse.’
That I understand. ‘You don’t argue with them?’
Sojourner laughs. ‘All the time. But, you know, respectfully.’
‘Jesus. How do you manage that?’
Sojourner comes to a dead stop. I overrun and have to walk back to her.
‘Che, don’t ever ever blaspheme in front of my moms. I’m serious. They won’t think much of you if you say any swear. But if you use the Lord’s name in vain they will be done with you. Done.’
‘Because I said Jesus?’
Sojourner nods. ‘Mom’s ordained. You heard her preach. She takes blasphemy seriously.’
I don’t know what to say. Jesus and God are what I say when I’m trying not to swear in front of someone who might be offended. I’ve always thought of them as the least offensive swear words. Along with damn and blast and crap and bother.
‘You don’t swear, do you?’ I realise I haven’t heard her say so much as crap since we met.
She shakes her head and starts running again.
I catch up. ‘I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t swear.’
‘Really?’
I try to think of someone. Even my grandmothers swear. ‘Really. Australians must swear a lot, I guess. I never thought about it.’
‘Seems like. Not in front of my moms okay?’
‘I’ll try,’ I say.
‘Don’t blaspheme in front of them. Seriously.’
‘I won’t.’
‘What about your little sister? I haven’t heard her swear.’
‘She swears.’ I itch to ask her about Rosa at Bible study, but I’m also desperate not to. Rosa eats up too much of my life.
‘Wow. You Australians are potty-mouthed monsters.’
She laughs and runs a little faster. I keep pace.
We run without saying anything, heading north. The path narrows. The park and the river disappear and we’re running in between buildings and highways with only room for two abreast. We have to fall in behind or in front of each other to let the occasional other joggers pass.
I can hear her every breath. I can smell her sweat.
I want to kiss her.
I’ve wanted to kiss other girls. I have kissed other girls.
I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone as much as I want to kiss Sojourner.
Her mouth. I try hard not to stare. The upper lip and bottom lip are almost the same thickness, with the bottom one only slightly fuller. The indentation of her upper lip makes me want to place my finger there, like that’s what the dent is shaped for. Sweat is forming there. I think of licking it away, running my tongue along her lips, sliding my tongue inside her mouth.
I lose my footing on nothing.
‘Fuck!’
I almost fall before I stutter-step my way into stride.
Sojourner turns. ‘You okay?’
I nod, picking up my pace.
‘Track runs out fairly soon.’
‘It does?’ I’m blushing because I was thinking about her mouth. She can’t tell, I’m sure. I’m sweating. It’s dark. The Manhattan lights are a strange orange colour.
‘We can turn around. Go all the way south then around to the Hudson.’
‘Sure,’ I say.
We turn.
‘I’m not ready to face my moms.’
‘I’m not ready for the parentals.’
‘That’s what you call them? Is that an Australian thing?’
‘Nah. It’s a me-and-Rosa thing.’
‘You two close?’
‘I guess.’ I do not want to talk about Rosa. ‘You don’t have any sisters or brothers?’
‘Nope. Just millions of cousins.’
‘Me too. Well, not millions. But a bunch.’
We keep running. Feet hitting the ground in unison. We’re soon beside the East River again.
‘It’s a lot more fun running with someone. I don’t love running.’
Sojourner laughs. ‘Me either. But Dido insists. Good for cardio. Good for making me last more than three rounds in the ring.’
‘I guess, but Jesus it’s boring.’
‘Why don’t you practise not blaspheming in front of my moms by not blaspheming in front of me?’
‘Fuck. Sorry.’
She laughs. ‘Let’s see how long you can go without swearing.’ She looks at her watch.
‘Are you timing me?’
‘Of course.’
‘Shall we make it a bet?’
‘Wow. So Australians swear too much and they gamble. No wonder you’re not a Christian!’
‘The Bible doesn’t say anything about gambling.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I’ve read the Bible. Just because I don’t believe it doesn’t mean I haven’t read it. I’ve read the Koran too.’
‘You’re full of surprises.’
‘I like to know things.’
‘The Bible does condemn love of money. Gambling is about loving money. So it indirectly condemns gambling.’
‘But gambling’s not a recent invention. It could have been on the forbidden list. Must not have been considered that bad.’
‘Maybe. It sure does ruin lives.’
‘I wasn’t going to suggest a money bet.’
She runs faster. I keep up with her, but I’m feeling it.
‘You trying to lose me?’
She increases her pace again. I run faster, overtaking her.
We continue chasing and overtaking each other until we’re on the other side of the island, running beside the Hudson River. It’s a dark expanse reflecting more lights than the East River. My legs burn, my lungs too, but I’m buggered if I’ll stop first.
There are more people to dodge on this side. Fewer runners and more people hanging out. There are long piers for them to hang out on. I prefer the darker, quieter east side.
I’m panting. I’m sure she is too. I can’t hear over my own ragged breathing. I don’t know how far north the track goes on this side.
I let Sojourner set the pace. She hasn’t sped up for at least two piers now. I think she’s slowing. I haven’t run like this in ages.
‘Sid! Sid!’
Sojourner doesn’t slow.
A good-looking black guy runs up beside us. ‘Sid!’ he shouts again. He touches her shoulder.
Sojourner stops. So do I, leaning forward, resting my hands on my thighs, breathing hard.
‘You got a fight coming up or something? Pretty late to be out running. Who’s the white boy?’
Sojourner’s bent over too. She puts up her hand so he’ll give her a second.
I pull my water bottle out of my pack, take a swig, hand it to Sojourner.
I stand up, offer my fist. ‘I’m Che.’
He touches his knuckles to mine briefly. He’s frowning. It doesn’t make him less handsome. Or less tall. There isn’t a single blemish on his face.
‘He’s—’ Sojourner begins, handing me back my water bottle.
‘We—’
We both stop, look at each other. I have an urge to laugh, but I have no idea who this guy is.
‘Che’s a friend,’ Sojourner says. ‘This is my ex, Daniel.’
Oh, I think.
‘Pleased to meet you, Daniel.’
‘Likewise,’ he says, sounding no more pleased than I am. He jerks his thumb behind him. ‘Friends’re back there. Just wanted to see if you’re okay.’
‘I am.’
‘You
look good,’ he says. ‘Sweaty, but good.’
‘Sweat is good. You look healthy too.’
‘It’s great to see you, Sid. I, ah…’ He trails off and shoots another look at me, like he’s willing me to step back, but Sojourner doesn’t look comfortable.
I stand my ground, drink more water. If Sojourner asks me to give them space I will.
‘Tell your moms I said hi. Jaime too.’
‘Will do.’
He walks backwards a few steps, eyes on Sojourner, gives a half wave, not bumping into anyone or tripping over. He shoots me another glare before finally turning and walking away.
I hand Sojourner the water. My legs ache, and my feet. I need a massage, a sauna, and a bath.
Sojourner takes a giant swig. ‘You up for another race?’
I stare at her. I’m pretty sure my eyes are popping.
She punches my shoulder. ‘Kidding! I’m beat. Kinda hungry too.’
‘I’m starving.’
We walk and drip sweat and empty the water bottle. I wonder how long she went out with Daniel and why they broke up. Seems like she broke up with him, but I could be reading that wrong. He definitely has feelings. Why does he have to be so good-looking and taller than me?
He would look good walking beside Sojourner in a way I never will. They fit together. Both beautiful. But I’m here and he’s not. I can smell her sweat and he can’t. The smell of Sojourner is making my brain melt, not his.
It makes everything melt.
‘There’s a decent diner a few blocks in.’
I nod.
‘You’re paying, rich boy.’
‘Rich boy? I wish.’
She looks at me sideways but doesn’t say anything.
I’ll have to use Papa’s credit card. The parentals haven’t given me any more cash. I’ll have to explain to Papa. I wouldn’t put it past him to cancel the credit card if he thinks I’m misusing it.
We cross the highway.
I try not to think about how Sojourner makes me feel. I’m grateful when we reach the diner. I order my first American hamburger: a bacon cheeseburger with a ridiculous amount of toppings, a large side of fries, and a malted milkshake. I want carbs and proteins and lots of them.
Maybe food will make me stop thinking about Sojourner’s lips, about her skin, about how amazing she smells.
My Sister Rosa Page 18
