Flesh & Blood

by A. E. Dooland

  While I was standing there still horrified by the comparison, Bree reached around her neck and undid her necklace, lifting my palm and placing the pearl into it. I let her, paralysed. When she bent down to retrieve her beloved sparkly tablet from her schoolbag and held it out to me, I managed to pull myself together enough to stop her.

  “It’s for your school,” I rasped. “You need—”

  Her throat was tight. “Right now I need to get rid of this yuck feeling that I’m responsible for you not going to art school, losing your car, and having creepy debt collectors chasing you.” She waved it at me. “Take it. Sell it. Sell them both.” She pushed it into my hands until I gave in and accepted it from her. When she took her phone out of her bag and went to hand that to me as well, I stopped her.

  “Bree, we bought that Chinese brand specifically so that Andrej couldn't pawn it and—”

  Her voice broke. “—Just take it, Min! Take it. I don’t care. I don’t want it.” She pried open my free hand and forced it into my grip, and when she’d done that and my hands were full, she pushed the Opal card I’d given her back into my pocket.

  I couldn’t stop her. “How are you going to get home without your Opal card?”

  “You can come home with me,” Mrs Dejanovic offered quietly from behind us. “Dragi won’t mind if I explain—”

  “No,” Bree said shortly, shutting us both down. “Courtney lives close. I’m going to stay at her place for a bit.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and gave us both one final miserable look. Then, she shoved me again, made a disgusted noise, and turned to walk out of the car park. As she left, she was wiping her eyes on her wrists.

  I stood there for a moment, watching her walk away from me.

  What had I done?

  Beside me, Mrs Dejanovic released a long, heavy sigh. I turned toward her; her eyes were glazed as she watched Bree disappear around the corner. After her daughter had gone, she gave me a long, searching look—there was such resignation on her face—and then without saying anything, she checked her watch, and made her way slowly back inside the factory with her shoulders slumped.

  I didn’t know what she thought of me. I guess it didn’t matter, did it? I couldn’t work here anymore. Not now that she knew about me, not now that I was fighting with Bree, and not now she knew that I had illegal loans just like Andrej. I had no reason to be here.

  My head spinning and my hands full of the presents I’d given Bree, I left the factory on foot.

  I thought I might meet Bree at the train station, but she wasn’t there. It was full of school kids in different uniforms, giggling together, chatting and playing cheerfully on their phones. I sat up the other end of the platform.

  Well, that’s it, then, I thought, looking down at Bree’s things in my lap. I owe $48,000 on a loan for a car I don’t have anymore. I owe $10,000 on a credit card, and god knows whether or not I still owe $12,000 on the pawnbroker loan. I did some mental addition: $70,000. I owed $70,000. And the person I’d done it for, the person who’d changed my life and whose life I thought I was changing for the better, hated me for it. But it was too late to undo what I’d done. It was too late.

  I give up, I thought, sinking into the bench. Maybe I’d end up bankrupt before Mr and Mrs Dejanovic did; how ironic. I might even end up bankrupt and single, and it would be my own damn fault.

  I turned Bree’s phone over in my hands; I couldn’t even text her to apologise. I love you, I thought, feeling the little diamantes she’d stuck on the back of it with my fingertips. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

  If I was anything like Mum, though, ‘sorry’ would never be enough. God, was I like her, though? Was I? I couldn’t think straight to give myself an answer; my head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool.

  It was a long trip home without my car. I didn’t really know what the fuck was going to happen with it—was Seung holding it to ransom, or was he going to rebadge it and sell it, and did I even still owe the money?—I knew I should call him and ask, but with every fibre of my being I did not want to make that phone call.

  All I wanted to do was find Bree, get down on my knees and beg her to forgive me. To plead with her to come home with me. But there was no point, because I knew she was too angry to say yes.

  What am I going to do without her? I thought, getting off the train by myself at Sarah’s station. Everything that was going on for me had just spiralled into a vortex of chaos, and now I didn’t even have her to tell me I was doing the ‘teeth-grindy’ thing again, or to make a cake to cheer me up, or to wrap those soft arms around me and tell me everything was going to be okay.

  The streetlamps were beginning to click on when I made it around the corner to Sarah’s place, and I was in the process of trying to figure out what the fuck happened now. I’d reached into my pocket for my keys, when I noticed the front porch light was on.

  I stopped in place, frowning.

  Sarah never left that on—not unless she was expecting someone, which she would have told me about—and it wouldn’t have been Rob, either, because Rob’s car wasn’t parked beside the house where he always left it. Up the driveway, I could see the living room light was on, too. Someone was inside.

  My blood ran cold.

  Shit, I thought immediately, if those guys aren’t home, it’s the debt collectors waiting for me like Seung said!

  I turned to look around me; there was no one out in the street. There were no dark cars parked anywhere—Bree had always talked about there being dark cars—but that didn’t mean anything, did it? They might have parked them around the corner.

  Shit, I kept repeating to myself. What did I do? Should I call the police? I wanted to, but I had a feeling things would only get worse for me if I did. If they were willing to make house calls to Sarah’s house, they’d be willing to make them to Bree’s parents’ or even Courtney’s. Fuck, I couldn’t get anyone else involved again, I couldn’t!

  Maybe it’s not collectors, I tried to tell myself. Maybe Sarah was home early, or maybe Bree hadn’t gone back to Courtney’s after all. It wasn’t a convincing argument; Bree wouldn’t have beat me back here, and I doubted that Frost would release its Marketing team this early on a Tuesday, especially if they were up in a summit somewhere and had a huge project in the works.

  It’s definitely debt collectors, I thought. No one else could get in. Fuck. What more could they take from me? They already had my relationship and my car, did they want to go through the house, too? God, I hoped they wouldn’t take Sarah’s or Rob’s stuff. They probably would; they didn’t seem too attached to the concept of ‘fair’.

  I couldn’t just stand here, though. Rob and I got home on a Tuesday night last week, and I didn’t want collectors to be here when Rob got home. I just had to go in and see what they wanted.

  I looked down at the sparkly purple tablet, and then awkwardly tucked it in the small of my back behind my belt, snug in the elastic of my briefs. I didn’t want Bree to lose anything else because of my shitty choices.

  I tip-toed up the front stairs to the porch, trying very hard not to jingle my keys as I very, very quietly tried to slip one into the lock. My hand was shaking.

  Come on, Min, I thought. They’re probably not going to hurt you, because they wouldn’t want to draw attention to themselves, would they? Maybe Seung just sent them to scare you for giving him so much hassle.

  I was trying to silently turn the lock when the door wrenched open.

  I shouted with surprise, ducking like someone was going to hit me, but the person just laughed heartily. I recognised that laugh: Rob. “What are you sneaking around for?” he asked as I straightened. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  Oh my god. I was panting. “Fuck,” I told him, giving him an impromptu hug and patting his back a couple of times. “You scared the life out of me. I thought no one was home. Where’s your car?”

  His eyebrows went up. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Well, your car wasn’t blocking it for once, so I
parked up around the back instead. I hope you’re okay with that.”

  I shut my eyes for a second. Of course. “I am so glad to see you,” I told him cryptically. “I have had the worst fucking day.”

  He laughed again. “Well, sorry I topped it off by surprising you,” he said, his smile growing. “But I’ve actually got another surprise for you!”

  I squinted at him. I was not in the mood. “You do?”

  He grinned. “Yeah.” I stopped for a second, but he gave me a push and ushered me up the hallway. “Nah, come on, I reckon you’ll love it.”

  I wasn’t so sure. “I don’t really feel like being surprised right now, Rob…”

  He thumped me on the back. “Cheer up, mate,” he said. “I’d give everything I’ve got for the surprise you’re about to get! Not all of us get to have rellies visit like you do.”

  I stopped in place. ‘Rellies’ as in relatives? Like, Seung-saying-he’s-my-cousin relatives? Korean-debt-collectors-claiming-to-be-members-of-my-family relatives? Or—?

  My vision greyed, but Rob kept excitedly propelling me forward into the living room.

  “Guess who’s come to visit you!” Rob announced, presenting her to me with a big, broad smile on his face like he was really excited about it.

  The shock of who was sitting at the dining table winded me.

  That neat hair, that nice dress, that sour expression… God, I hadn’t lived with her for five years, but childhood panic reached right through those five years to instantly grip me around the throat just like it always had when I was a kid. I couldn’t breathe.

  Mum looked up, and, I don’t know if it was the light, or my haircut, or, well, everything about how I looked—but she didn’t recognise me straight away. She was going to say something to Rob, but at that moment she double-took and the words never left her mouth. She saw me. Jaw wide open, recognition flashed across her face. She half-stood, taking a few staggering steps towards me as she propped herself up on the table for support. It was like she’d seen a monster. “Min?”

  I was frozen in place. It was like a nightmare. “Mum.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Her eyes were on my suit, my flat chest, my padded shoulders, and finally my short hair. A tiny gasp escaped from her mouth, and she stepped forward to roughly pull me down so she could inspect me. She was still wearing the same perfume. “Min,” she began in Korean, “what in God’s name have you done to your lovely long hair?”

  I didn’t have time to reply, because she held me back at arm’s length and was scrutinising my body. “I don’t know what you—” The words died on her lips.

  I knew what she was looking at: I was wearing the packer. The room began to spin; Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was I going to do?

  “What—?” Her eyes were wide as saucers as she looked back up at me, confused. “What is this? Why are you doing this to me, Min? Why?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Is it to punish me?”

  I could barely get air through my throat. Glancing furtively back towards Rob, who was looking really confused and uncomfortable, I answered quietly in Korean. “No, it’s not, I—”

  “—Oh, God—” She released me and took a few steps away, her hand reaching to clasp the pearls at her throat. “What have I done to deserve this daughter?” Her eyes dipped to my crotch, and then she immediately jammed them shut for a second as if she’d seen something illicit. “Tell me no one else saw you like this!”

  I licked my dry lips. “I actually just got home from working at—”

  She cut me off with a pained noise. “Oh!” She put her face in her hands for a moment, before looking back at me, glaring. “God! You always have to be the centre of attention, don’t you, Min? Everyone always needs to be talking about you! I thought you grew out of that little habit after the big fuss you caused in high school, but apparently I was wrong.”

  Did she just say… I clenched my jaw. “Mum, that’s really not very—”

  “Well, I don’t have the energy to deal with you acting up right now. Not after I’ve travelled all this way to see you and spent all week looking for someone to mind your grandma for a few days.” She straightened, gathering some composure. “I’m too tired to deal with this nonsense. Go and put some proper clothes on this instant. Then I suppose we’ll have to figure out what on earth to do with that awful hair once you’re done.”

  I took a long uneven breath. Even if I’d considered the idea of putting on a dress for her, I didn’t have any. At least, not in my possession. “I can’t.”

  Her expression soured. “What do you mean ‘I can’t’? Do it!”

  I stayed put. “I mean that wearing dresses makes me feel uncomfortable, and I can’t—”

  “—Uncomfortable?” Her brow lowered. “Well, I’d like to wear a dressing gown all day because it’s more comfortable, but people can’t just live like animals, we all have to be presentable!” She gave me the once-over, shaking her head. “What’s gotten into you? Hurry up! Change! I don’t want to see you in this ridiculous suit anymore.” She shook her head at it. “God, you look so ridiculous. I’m embarrassed to look at you. Take it off!”

  “No,” I told her firmly, but my voice was shaking. “This is how I’m comfortable, I’m not going to take—”

  She grabbed me by the elbow and viciously dragged me past shell-shocked Rob into the hallway. “Which one of these doors is your bedroom!” she demanded. “Tell me!”

  “Mum!” I tried to pull away from her, but she had me in a vice-like grip.

  “This one?” She looked at me and judged the answer by my silence, dragging me into it and flinging me free towards the bed, looking around us, aghast. “What is this mess?” she asked. “God! Keeping clothes in a suitcase! Unbelievable!” She knelt awkwardly down anyway and unzipped it.

  My heart was in my throat: the suitcase! “Mum, there’s nothing in—”

  She made a disgusted sound as she opened it. “—and your clothes aren’t even folded!” she interrupted me, holding one up. It was a men’s shirt. She took out another piece of clothing, and another, holding them up, and each of them were menswear: a t-shirt, a hoodie, my spare pair of jeans, nothing that resembled anything feminine.

  “Mum, stop, you’re not going to find—”

  “—What is—ugh!” She held up a pair of my briefs—clearly men’s briefs, I needed the Y-front to hold the packer in place—and made a pained noise, throwing them fiercely down hard on the floorboards so she could keep digging deeper into it, faster, looking for something she recognised.

  She reached the bottom of the case, pulling out my summer t-shirts, and lighter jumpers, my cotton pyjamas... I inhaled sharply; I’d hidden the hard packer under everything, and that was the last thing in the world that I wanted her to see. I needed to stop her right now.

  I quickly stepped forward and took her arm. “Mum, there’s only men’s clothes in there.”

  She made a frustrated noise. “Well, where are your clothes?” she asked tiredly, like she was sick of the conversation. “Are they in one of these other bags?” She stood stiffly to go and inspect another case, but I stopped her.

  “No, they’re not.”

  She turned towards me and put her hands on her hips, sighing. “Well, where did you—”

  She wasn’t going to like the answer. “I gave them away. All of them.”

  “You gave—” Her jaw hung for a moment. It didn’t last for long; her face quickly hardened. “The clothes I bought you for work?” she asked for confirmation. “All of the beautiful designer clothes that I had specially tailored to fit your long body so you didn’t walk into Frost International looking like you’d been shopping at K-Mart?” She sounded increasingly upset. “You gave those away?”

  I swallowed. “Maybe if I explain why I—”

  “It doesn’t matter why!” she interrupted. “I bought those for you on a cleaner’s salary, Min! Do you know how long a cleaner has to work to afford labels?” When I didn’t immediately answer
her, she continued, “Of course you don’t, you walked straight out of university into a six-figure salary because someone paid for you to have a good education. Well, those clothes took me a long time to save up for, so you get them back right now! Ask whoever you—”

  “I appreciate you did that for me, I do. But wouldn’t you rather someone who feels comfortable in them wears them? I always felt really uncomfortable when I—”

  She exaggeratedly rolled her eyes. “—Oh, stop being so precious, Min! We’re women! Women have to endure all sorts of discomforts, that’s just part of being a—”

  “No, Mum, you’re not listening to me! The discomfort I feel is not an ordinary part of being a woman, not at all. I’m not talking about sore feet because of heels, or tight bras or—”

  She was beginning to raise her voice. “Then what are you talking about, Min? What made my incredibly selfish daughter give away thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes her mother worked her knuckles to the bone to buy for her, hmm? Because I can’t imagine anything that—”

  Did I need to spell it out for her? “—Because women’s clothes make me miserable, okay? Being a woman made me miserable. I always felt huge and uncomfortable and wrong. I’m happy like this,” I told her, gesturing down at my body. “I don’t feel wrong when I’m in men’s clothes and when people treat me like a—!”

  She frantically cut me off before I could finish. “Don’t be ridiculous, you silly girl!” she told me, her voice shooting up an octave. “You’re not five anymore, you can’t just wear gumboots and a tutu because you’ve decided you like it! You’re an adult now and you’re getting older, Min. Boys might find tomboys fun to play with in the schoolyard, but no respectable man like Henry would be seen dead with one on their arm!”

  “Good, because a man is exactly the opposite of what I’m looking for!”

  She scoffed. “You might think you don’t need one now, but your short hair and your men’s suit are going to seem pretty worthless when you’re old and all alone with no one to take care of you!”