“She was a warrior princess who was very good a solving problems. Sometimes she used dental floss.”
Now she did laugh out loud, and so did Cody’s parents as Jas said, “What’s dental floss—oh yeah,” and Cody said, “Shut up, Jas.”
Aiden knocked his shoulder into hers. “It’s the off, off, off Broadway production,” and she laughed out loud again. She reached for his hand. “I love it.” He wrapped his fingers though hers. His hand felt dry and cold while hers was warm. He called, “Keep going, Code.”
“Bailey was very good at taking photos. One day the warrior princess took the big doofus’ photo without him knowing about it. In the photo he was sad because he was thinking about Shannon, and he hadn’t met the warrior princess yet. On the day the warrior princess and the big doofus meet they save a man’s life like Superman and Supergirl.
Jas said, “Look up in the sky. It’s a bird,” she flapped her wand, “It’s a plane,” she zoomed it like a rocket.
“But this reminded the big doofus about Shannon and he got sad again which made the warrior princess mad with him. They had a big fight that went on for ages.”
Behind Cody, Jas said, “Bam, kapow, whack, sock,” making karate chop moves to punctuate each word. Her wand flashed and flashed.
“And the warrior princess told the big doofus to get over himself and they made friends again.”
Jas went back to tip-toeing and wand waving.
“But one day something really, really bad happened.”
Jas stopped still, “What?” Cody looked over his shoulder at her in annoyance and Aiden cracked up; apparently that wasn’t in the script.
Cody said, “They kissed,” in the same way he might have said, ‘that’s disgusting’. Jas made kissy noises, pretending her wand was another pair of lips.
“And that made the big doofus confused, because he liked kissing Bailey very much, but he was still sad about Shannon. So he said no more kissing, and then they both sulked which was really boring.”
This time when Bailey laughed it was most certainly the right place. Cody beamed a smile at her.
“One day the warrior princess fell down and got hurt and the big doofus thought it was really his fault, though he didn’t push her, he knew he’d still hurt her. It woke him up from the sulks. When he saw the warrior princess’ bruises he knew he loved her very much.”
Jas went, “Ahhh!”
“The problem was the warrior princess had a different boyfriend now.”
“Booo!”
“He was called St Chris and he was a very good person but he was inconvenient.”
Jas repeated, “Inconvenient,” putting her wand-less hand on her hip and stamping her foot.
“The doofus was scared to fight St Chris and this made the warrior princess cranky. She told him he was...” Cody broke from his narrator role and raised his voice to shout, “Don’t make me in trouble for this Mum, it’s in the script.” He waited till they heard an, “Ok,” then said, “Chicken shit.”
All four adults roared with laughter. Aiden brought Bailey’s hand to his lips for a kiss.
“The big doofus wanted to choose the warrior princess, but he thinks he’s left it too late and she is over him. So he wants her to know...”
Jas cut Cody off, “That’s you Bailey,” pointing her wand.
Cody started his line again, “So he wants her to know he loves her very much and wishes things were different.”
Jas said, “The. End,” making each word its own sentence and both kids bowed to enthusiastic applause.
Bailey lifted her hand to shut it down. “Wait, that can’t be the end. Where’s the part where they live happily ever after?”
“That’s all the words we’ve got,” said Cody, waving his script at her.
“Sometimes fairytales have alternate endings,” said Aiden, ignoring his talent and looking directly at Bailey.
“What’s an alternate ending?” said Jas.
“Like part two,” said Cody.
That appeared to satisfy her. She jumped off the rock platform and came across to Aiden. He opened his arm out and she settled herself in his lap, placing her wand carefully on the sand beside them. She looked Aiden in the eyes. “You can keep holding Bailey’s hand.” He said, “Thank you,” and went on with his alternate ending, turning his face back to watch Bailey.
“In part two, the big doofus tells the warrior princess how much he loved her, from the very beginning, and how stupid he was not to recognise it, and accept how right they are together. He tells her that it took him a long time to stop punishing himself for what happened to Shannon, though it wasn’t his fault, and to see that he could love the warrior princess just as much as ever he’d loved before.”
Jas’ eyes popped on a sharp inhalation and they both looked at her. “But what about St Chris?”
Both sets of eyes looked back to Bailey. Jas’ were wide with excitement, Aiden’s were unreadable. She watched Aiden. He had her hand tight in his.
“St Chris packed his bag and rode away on his big white horse this morning.”
Jas said, “Yay!” clapping her hands, bouncing in Aiden’s lap. He closed his eyes but before they shuttered she saw his naked hope.
Standing directly in front of them, Cody said, “You better kiss her for real, Aid.”
He opened his eyes, gave his attention to Jas. “Would it be ok if I used both arms?” She screwed up her mouth, “Hmm,” shrugged, “Ok,” and climbed out of his lap.
Bailey could hear her heart thumping in her ears, over the sound of the sea.
“My darling warrior princess, is there a chance you might consider making a new fairy story with the big doofus?”
Cody and Jas were staring at her, but Aiden was the only thing she could see. “Is there a chance you’re ready for a new story?”
“I’m ready.”
One of the kids said, “He’s ready,” and Aiden laughed. He took both of her hands folding them into his chest. “I want the chance for a happy ending with you. You woke me up with your strength and your optimism, your beauty and talent. You make me want to be better. You help me balance. I don’t want to be unbalanced again. I don’t want to be without you.”
It wasn’t a kiss, but it was a declaration. It wasn’t bells she was hearing but a future. Tears built behind her eyes. Aiden’s breath was coming short and fast under her hands. His body was tight with apprehension.
“I understand if it’s not what you want. You don’t need to say anything. I’m better already because of you. I’ll be better because of you, even if I have to live without you. I can never thank you enough for that. I’m going to take charge of my life again. I’m selling the mansion. It was never really me. I’ll bed Bitters in as a new client, finalise the deal in Melbourne and finish the year out, but I’m quitting Heed. You and Blake together don’t need me. I’m going to do what I always wanted but was too scared to do, play with MacGuffin’s for real and go broke making a film. When I’m down to living in my car you might let me answer the phones at Heed.”
He stopped, his eyes were wet too, but the tension had left him, his shoulders softened, his frown eased. He’d made his peace.
Jas whispered in her not whispering voice, “Kiss her,” and he released Bailey’s hands to take her shoulders and hold her close. Aiden’s whisper voice was more accomplished. It made Bailey’s internal organs fizz with desire, flip with yearning. “I love you Bailey Wyatt, my white balance.”
Inside his kiss was the panacea for pain, the flipside of sadness, the heat of togetherness and the pledge of a happy ending.
Bailey’s head rang with song, her heart filled with a rush of fresh, bright colours. She didn’t believe in fairytales, except the fractured variety. She did believe life gave you chances to make your own happiness.
Aiden looked anxiously at her. “I know we need more time, more rehearsals for this. What are you thinking?”
“Can I take a cast photo?”
He f
rowned, it wasn’t what he expected. He gathered the kids. She had them sit either side of him on one of the rocky armchairs and clicked off a half dozen shots, first of the three of them, then of Aiden alone.
The man in the photo was looking right at her. The camera was no barrier, he could see through her. He unfolded off the rock and walked towards her. He had broad shoulders. He was young. He was a man in his prime. He was handsome.
The set of his jaw, the fix of his lips, the line of his chest, there was something about him that suggested strength and purpose.
Her eyes could touch every part of him. She knew his body now and cherished it. She knew his mind, and respected and admired it. She was a thief intent on possessing his love.
She held out her hand, and he took it so they could begin a life together. When he kissed her she heard bells, and a little girly voice said, “And they lived happily ever after. The. End.”
Acknowledgements
To the folk who make getting back up and on the keyboard possible.
The BTA crash testers, particularly our correspondent in Paris, the M family cheer squad and Brussels who can see commas like dead people.
Thanks also to the artists who provided a soundtrack: The Script, Richard Wagner, Bic Runga, Kimbra, Rihanna, Eminem, Sia, Hilltop Hoods, Gnarls Barkely, The Black Keys, Sia, Gym Class Heroes, Maroon 5, Stooshe, Nicki Minaj, Florence and the Machine, Hatebreed and Slipknot.
And let’s not forget The Hulk, Despicable Me, Fruit Ninja and Super Mario.
An extract from
Grease Monkey Jive
Ainslie Paton
A romance about changing the game, finding the truth, and fancy footwork.
When ballroom teacher Alex Gibson dances with Dan Maddox she’s reminded of the time she stuck a knife in the toaster, gave herself an electric shock, and saw stars. He’s precisely the type of man Alex’s mother warned her off—a player, like the father who abandoned her.
Dan Maddox comes from a long line of men who were hiding under the hood of a beat-up car when the ‘successful relationship’ gene was given out, but he was first in the queue for an extra jolt of chick-pulling power.
The chicks in Dan’s life are universally gorgeous, random, and disposable, until one drunken night when he picks the wrong girl, hurts a good friend, and realises that unless he does something to change, he’ll end up like his violent, unstable father.
It’s Pimp My Ride meets Dancing With The Stars as Alex and Dan come together to compete in a ballroom dancing competition that changes the way they both feel about relationships and love.
The Moment
When Alex was a kid, she gave herself a nasty electric shock by sticking a knife down the slot of the toaster to rescue her breakfast. As the electricity gripped her in the seconds before shutting off, every muscle spasmed and the air crackled and fizzed with blue sparks.
She was twelve years old, had burned fingers, and was in lot of trouble with Mum and Gran.
She was twice that age now and hadn’t forgotten the intensity of that electric zap and how wildly it made her heart beat and her thoughts fly, from the sheer physical surprise and the recognition that she was in serious strife.
There was no toast, no toaster, and no knife anywhere to hand, but the sensation that struck her body when she looked into his eyes was the same. Electricity pulsed through her nerves, leaped in her muscles, and fired inside her brain. She was in deep trouble.
All he’d done was lower his chin and raise his eyes, looking at her from across the room. That’s all. It barely counted as a movement. It was more a re-positioning, more an adjustment than a conscious action, but everything changed in that moment.
The breath sucked out of her; the room closed in. She felt energised and inspired beyond the bounds of her training and the encouragement of the music. There was nothing she couldn’t achieve. Her feet flew through the steps, her placement never more accurate, her leaps and kicks never higher, her body positioning and posture never prouder or more abandoned at the same time.
She danced on air, as a beam of sunlight might chase a shadow across the floor. It was physically effortless and without the need to think. She was carelessness and precision, passion and control, pure energy and heat. She was the blue fizz and crackle, she was the shock of power, and she adored it.
When she got closer to him she could hear him breathing hard, see the dark blue of his bright eyes and their expression of wonder. She caught fire. When she circled around him, she saw tension flick along the ridge of muscle in his back and across the breadth of his shoulders. The line of his jaw tightened and his lips twitched into a smile as he looked for her and the fire caught, flared, lifting her higher, giving her iridescent wings and divine purpose.
When the music stopped, the silence was hopelessly profound. Her body became her own again and she felt the old stiffness behind her left knee and the too tight strap of her shoe.
She looked at Dan, still standing where Trevor had put him, but studying her as though he’d never met her before. She looked at Scott—surely he’d noticed something odd just happened—but he only had eyes for Dan, critical eyes.
She shook her head to try to reclaim her scorched senses and when she walked across to the stereo, she thought her legs might give way on her and spill her on the wooden floor.
Dan’s eyes never left her and a flood of self-consciousness coursed through her, replacing the earlier feeling of joy with embarrassment. That was too much inspiration for a trial run. She could’ve just walked it through; there was no reason whatsoever to have danced like that, not for Dan, he’d have no idea of the technique he was seeing. Scott might’ve enjoyed it, the freedom and clarity of it, but Scott would’ve been annoyed she didn’t dance like that for him.
“What do you think?” said Scott, but not waiting for her reply. “You’re a good physical match and he does look the part. Of course, you’ll have to do all the work, girlfriend, but assuming he can at least do what he did then, we might be able to pull this off.”
Afterwards, Alex would wonder what she’d said in reply; she was already thinking it might be better to abandon this idea before it took on its own life and required her to re-organise hers.
He felt like he’d been hit by a train.
The shock to his chest was palpable, as though something steel hard and lightning sharp had ripped through him, leaving him open and raw and aching hot with sensation. His jaw dropped, his lids lowered, his breathing was suddenly laboured, and every muscle was tense with anticipation.
And despite the impression that he’d been shoved backwards at a great rate, staggering from the sheer force of the impact, he was standing stock still, statue still, shop window dummy still, just like he’d been told to.
He had no idea what just happened, why it felt like there was fire in his fingertips and his blood was circulating four times faster than normal, why he could hear bells ringing deep inside his head…
Maybe he was sick, this was a stroke or an aneurysm, come on suddenly with no warning and pushing him so far off balance he was electrified. He needed Google to check for the symptoms because maybe that explained his unexpected inability to speak or think clearly.
He had no idea how long Scott had been talking at him, so obviously his hearing was blown as well. It was her hand placed softly on his arm that brought him back, rushing back, and her honey voice saying his name that snatched him into the present again.
He snapped his mouth closed and made some sound, more a grunt than anything intelligible, and she turned away. Shit, she thought he was a Neanderthal and he’d just proven it. He ran a hand through the tangle of his hair and pushed a breath out, turning to look at Scott.
“Can you do that again, caveman?”
“Ah...?”
“Don’t over-think it. You either can or you can’t.”
“I don’t know what I did.”
Scott groaned, “You were perfect. Who’d have guessed, straight out of the box, never been
used. You just have to do exactly what you did then and everything will be rainbows.”
‘Rainbows!’ What was this tool talking about? He couldn’t do that again; he wouldn’t live through the intensity of it. How was it she appeared so unaffected?
She was over by the stereo, nonchalantly selecting the next track, her long dark ponytail swinging over her shoulder, cascading across her elegantly slender neck. She had her extraordinary pale amber eyes down on the screen, leaning forward slightly, a delicious arch in her back, one long, well muscled leg in front of the other.
She looked real and natural, made of ordinary flesh and bone, where only a minute ago she’d seemed entirely illusory, like air, like desire given life in the form of an exotically beautiful girl.
He looked at Mitch and Fluke, sitting on the floor over against the mirror. They were both grinning at him like circus clowns. They must have felt it too then, or seen her change form and become something supernatural.
“Dan!”
“Sorry, Scott—what?”
“We’re going to do it again.”
“No, I...”
“Ok, take a minute.”
He glanced at Alex, now discussing something with Scott, a bright smile animating her face. He might as well have been insect repellent for all the impact he had on her. He shook his head to try to clear it and walked across to the boys.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, mate,” said Fluke.
“Did you see it too?” He heard how utterly dazed and insanely stupid he sounded.
“Nope?”
“Mitch?”
“Nah, you’re the one got stung.”
“I don’t know what just happened.”
Mitch laughed, but not unkindly, and jostled Fluke. “You’re in trouble, Dan.”
“But I haven’t done anything. I just stood there like they told me to.”
White Balance Page 34
