What I Saw

by Beck Nicholas

  ‘Are you looking for absolution? Because you’re asking the wrong guy. Your brother held me down while Hayden tried to belt me. If I hadn’t ducked that punch it could just as easily have been me in the hospital, hit from behind by a coward.’

  She recoils.

  She’s silent for a while and I think she’s going to take my advice and leave, but she doesn’t. When she moves, it’s towards my house.

  I touch her shoulder. Even through her top, she’s soft and warm. Or maybe I’ve gone soft in the head. ‘You can’t just walk in.’

  Her chin lifts, her eyes sparking despite my brutal honesty. ‘I helped you get your sister home and you aren’t well mannered enough to even offer me a glass of water for my parched throat?’

  ‘Parched?’

  Her hand goes to her neck and she coughs pathetically. ‘Yes.’

  I close my eyes and pray to whatever fates are messing with me. Short of pushing her away, I don’t have much choice. And I have no intention of doing that.

  ‘Then by all means, please come in and let me get you a drink.’

  I’m thankful she doesn’t offer any platitudes as we go inside. It’s not a ‘nice place’ and it doesn’t have any ‘nice features’. Ma has changed into clothes suitable for work but she’s lying down again. We stop on our way through.

  ‘Ma, this is Callie.’ I pause, strangely nervous. ‘A girl from school.’

  She doesn’t glance up from the TV, where her favourite movie is playing out its dramatic end for the thousandth time. ‘Hello, dear.’

  You’d think there’d more of a reaction. It’s been a long time since I invited a friend home, let alone a girl, but Ma doesn’t notice much these days.

  ‘Hi, Mrs Barker,’ Callie says, perfectly polite.

  I lead the way out to the backyard, stopping in the kitchen to fill a glass with tap water. I bet she’s used to bottled and filtered. Maybe she’ll turn her nose up and leave.

  Callie sips when I hand it to her. ‘Thank you, I needed that.’ She arches a brow, nodding back at Ma. ‘Gone with the Wind? Is that where your names come from?’

  I shrug. ‘She’s obsessed. It’s that or game shows. It’s a miracle she didn’t call us Price and Right.’

  Callie’s lips twitch but she doesn’t comment.

  For some reason I feel the need to fill the silence. ‘I’ve heard the jokes about us being extra close because of our names. It’s not true, in case you’re wondering.’

  Callie frowns. ‘I hadn’t heard.’

  My cheeks feel hot and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

  She wanders around the small space and picks up a pair of old boxing gloves Javier gave me, hefting their weight. Then she runs her painted fingernails over the red leather of the old punching bag hanging in the corner.

  The skin on my neck prickles, as though those nails are touching my skin.

  ‘You’re a fighter?’

  ‘No. I … have some issues with my temper. The ring helps, but it’s not brawling. There are rules, safety equipment. Boundaries. It’s where I met my boss, Javier. He runs the place in town.’

  ‘You work at a boxing ring?’

  ‘No, the vet.’ I clear my throat. ‘Curiosity satisfied?’

  She spins back towards me, her lips curved into an almost smile that teases me with how beautiful she’d look if I could truly make her happy. ‘About you?’ She shakes her head. ‘You’re far too complicated.’

  ‘I’m a simple guy.’

  She doesn’t argue and we sit side by side on the table, not speaking. I’m used to silence and I’m no fan of small talk, but sitting next to Callie is like waging a minor battle. I want to ask her a million questions: everything from her favourite colour to whether she believes the pain goes away when you die. But at the same time it’s easy to just sit beside her, catch a hint of her scent with every breath and pretend there aren’t a million reasons I should stay away from this girl.

  ‘Do you have plans? If you’re cleared …’ Her question breaks the silence.

  It’s dumb, but for a second I wish she’d asked me about something else, anything else. The need to change the subject is so strong I can taste it. ‘Next week?’

  ‘The future.’

  From inside, there’s the tinny applause of a studio audience from Ma’s favourite game show. The movie must be over. I can’t believe Callie Jones is sitting here in my backyard like she’s been invited for tea, as comfortable as if there was a mansion behind us.

  ‘I help out at the vet surgery part -time. My boss has promised me full-time hours as soon as I finish school.’ Actually, Javier threatened to cut my job completely if I quit before I got my diploma. Something about wasting brains.

  ‘You don’t want to go to uni?’

  ‘I want … to take care of my family. Studying doesn’t pay bills.’

  ‘But you have plans.’ She’s staring out towards the creek and the forest.

  I think of Bree’s comment about her not being a doctor yet, and the way she was so worried that getting drunk at the dance would affect the scholarship she’s in line for. ‘So do you.’

  She nods. ‘I used to think so.’

  For the first time I hear doubt in her voice. Not today the supremely confident, beautiful girl who strides the corridors at school like she owns them. That girl was attractive, I can’t deny it. But this girl … She’s terrifying. Because I want to know more about her. I want to know everything, but she’s not my type and I’m not going to ask. All I want is for her to tell the truth about what happened at the dance.

  She turns towards me. ‘Did you ever say you were going to do something so many times it got to the point where you couldn’t back down?’

  ‘Why are you asking me?’

  Her gaze drops to her feet, which rock back and forth like a little girl on a swing. ‘No reason. I shouldn’t have. I just thought …’

  ‘Don’t think. It can only get you in trouble.’

  She laughs like I was joking and I try to smile. She studies my face the way I’ve seen her study problems in class. ‘Don’t you want more than to clean out animal cages for the rest of your life?’

  ‘Not everyone gets a choice.’

  ‘But you’re smart. You wouldn’t be in the classes we share if you weren’t. You could be somebody.’

  ‘Now you sound like Javier.’

  She offers a sage nod. ‘Then he must be a pretty clever guy.’

  Now I laugh for real. ‘He’ll be glad someone thinks so.’

  ‘You two are close?’

  I shrug.

  ‘Is it a state secret or something?’

  Telling Callie that Javier picked me up off the floor after a counselling session split me open isn’t an option. Even back then I was ashamed of the tears streaming down my face and the snot smeared across my sleeve. ‘Maybe it’s none of your business.’

  ‘Make it my business.’ There’s a dare in her voice.

  ‘Why the hell should I?’

  ‘I’m not an idiot. I know you don’t want me here, and you obviously like to pretend you’re the big strong silent type who doesn’t need anything or anybody, but if I’m going to destroy my family I need a reason. I need to know you’re worth it.’ Her voice catches and she swallows. ‘Give me something.’

  I try not to think about the hope she sparks within me. ‘Talking about my past doesn’t come easily.’

  Typical of late afternoons in the valley, clouds have swept across and drops of rain splash on the plastic roof over our heads.

  Her hand touches my knee and my whole body jumps to alert. ‘Please.’

  CHAPTER

  7

  Callie

  Rhett jerks away like my touch burns. I have to fold my hands in my lap to stop from reaching out to him again.

  ‘Please,’ I say again.

  I don’t know what to do. If Sean’s right, my family can’t afford for either one of us to get in trouble. Not if we want a future.

  Spea
king up would see Sean kicked off the team and the scholarship I’ve worked so hard to win gone. I’m pretty sure the terms and conditions of the scholarship say drunk sisters of delinquents need not apply.

  But how can I live with myself if I lie?

  Rhett stares off towards the creek.

  I clear my throat but he doesn’t move. ‘What is so bad that you’d rather take the fall for hitting Hayden than tell me about it?’

  ‘I don’t particularly want to talk to you at all.’ His soft tone belies his harsh words.

  The whirring in my head becomes restlessness in my legs. I jump down and pace the small space, stepping over the cracks and holes in the concrete.

  ‘Make yourself at home,’ he mutters.

  ‘I will.’ I wander close to the back fence. The creek runs past here but even the water is rougher in this part of town. Churning and frothing over rocks, heading for the fall downstream near the sea.

  There’s a narrow path along the edge. ‘Does this go all the way to the ocean?’

  ‘Yep. My own private shortcut to the exotic waters of Valley Beach. We’re practically waterfront.’

  ‘When I was five, Dad used to take me and Sean fishing in the pools before the drop to the sand. Mum would pack a picnic and sunbathe or read me stories.’ In my head I see Mum laughing on one of those trips. She’s wearing her bikini with her wide-brimmed hat, and acting out some silly scene from a book with fairies on the cover. I’d nearly forgotten that she used to be like that. Fun.

  Rhett’s movement brings me back to the present. He leans back and raises a brow.

  ‘Did your brother try to knock the fish out with his fist?’

  ‘Hilarious.’

  The air is thick with decades of grease and smoke and unwashed humans. It coats the walls even out here, and my skin as well, despite the lingering scent of bleach that burns my nostrils. Someone has fought to keep this place clean. Rhett? His mother?

  I turn my face towards the creek and the tainted breeze that rushes down the shallow valley from the factories upstream.

  The only noise from inside is Mrs Barker’s TV program. At the wire screen door I listen, trying to make out whether it’s Gone With the Wind. Rhett obviously hates his name but I think it’s kind of sweet.

  I take another step and sense Rhett squirming. I turn and follow his gaze to a foldout bed in the most protected corner of the back porch. The faded brown sheets are tucked in with military precision. ‘Yours?’

  He nods.

  I can’t help moving closer. My room back at home is all clean and light and white, and he sleeps out here. ‘What happens when it rains?’

  He shrugs. ‘Sometimes I get a bit wet.’

  ‘That’s awful.’

  ‘It’s only water.’

  The end of an old guitar pokes out from under the bed frame. At last. Something we have in common. A silly leap of excitement has me grinning. ‘Is that yours? I used to play. Actually, I still do, when I have time …’ My voice trails off at his closed expression.

  ‘No.’

  I tell myself it’s stupid to be disappointed.

  ‘It’s not like I’m a great guitarist or anything. It’s just a thing I used to do once. Before I realised that if I wanted to become a doctor I’d need to focus on subjects that can help me. Not music.’

  ‘Music is a luxury around here. I have to worry about paying the bills.’

  ‘Why’s it there?’

  ‘One of Ma’s boyfriends left it behind and she wouldn’t let me throw it out.’

  ‘Oh.’

  One side of his mouth kicks up. ‘Not the happy story you were hoping for?’

  ‘I wasn’t hoping for anything.’ The longer I stay, the more I realise that coming here was a mistake. ‘In fact, I should have left when you told me to.’

  ‘You don’t seem the type to do as you’re told.’

  I slump beside him again. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you knew me better.’

  He nudges me gently with his shoulder. ‘Oh, I know you’re a rebel, all right. I saw you empty your guts in the school’s precious rose garden.’

  I laugh. Somehow, because of Rhett, I can see the humour in the moment. Not that the embarrassment is gone. ‘That wasn’t normal behaviour for me.’

  ‘Everyone has to let loose sometimes. Even the school captain.’

  I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything deep, but there’s something seductive about what he’s saying. Last night at the dance was the first time in a long time that I wasn’t analysing and second-guessing my actions. For a while I was free. ‘How do you let loose?’

  The amusement fades from his eyes. ‘I work. I box. I work some more.’ He waves to the porch roof where it leans precariously on a post, glimpses of sky showing through rust holes. ‘You don’t get quality workmanship like that for free.’

  Like the rest of the house, it looks as though it would fall down in a stiff breeze. ‘Have you always lived here?’ It’s not the question I intended to ask, but the less he tells me about himself willingly, the more I want to know.

  ‘I would have thought with Bree Madden for a friend you’d already know everything about me. And everyone else in this town.’

  I don’t blame him for the edge in his voice. Bree is a bit of a gossip and she’s never hidden her dislike of Scarlett. She probably sensed Hayden’s interest in her. Before last night, I’d never spent much time thinking about either of the Barkers, or really listened to Bree on the topic. They weren’t part of my plan, so they didn’t exist.

  Now, for some reason, Rhett’s all I can think about.

  I lift my head and he’s closer than before. His breath stirs a breeze on my lips. It would be so easy to close that gap. Easy, but impossible. ‘You’ve told me you need to work to help pay the bills, so I get that your family would struggle if you couldn’t. Tell me about your history. Why did they find you so easy to blame?’

  He drags a hand across his face. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking. The past should stay where it belongs.’

  ‘Not when the future depends on it.’

  He jumps to his feet. His hands are clenched and I cringe at the tension in him. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed. I mean, I don’t really know anything about him. He’s angry. And we’re alone out here.

  The thrill in my body should be fear. But it seems that since last night I’m all about the unexpected. I move towards him. Take his hand. Feel it tremble and try to still it with both of mine.

  His eyes darken. ‘Four years ago, I nearly killed a man.’

  I let go.

  Stumble back.

  Killed a man. The words are too big. Too much. I can’t hold that gaze. ‘How?’

  ‘With my fists.’ He slams one hand into the wall behind him but doesn’t wince.

  ‘Why?’

  He’s breathing heavily. ‘Does there have to be a reason?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Maybe I just like hurting people. Isn’t that one of the rumours? That I have a temper that could go off at any moment? That I hurt people for fun?’

  ‘No.’ The denial is snatched from my throat. ‘I saw the fight last night. You could have struck the first blow. Or the second.’ My voice catches. ‘They were going to assault your sister. Three of them. Against a girl so much smaller and weaker than any one of them. You had every right to lash out. They were in the wrong.’ I think of Sean being a party to that and want to be sick. ‘You could have given in to the rage you must have felt.’ Tears escape and I wipe them away, determined to keep my gaze on his face and the eyes that show so much pain. ‘But you didn’t.’

  His eyes harden. He’s remembering. ‘I wanted to.’

  ‘Because you’re human.’

  He shakes his head. ‘Stop trying to pretend you know a damn thing about me. You think I need your approval?’ He turns his back. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Why did you nearly kill a man?’ I ask again.

  He doesn’t face me. ‘It was one of Ma’s boyfrie
nds. He’d been seeing her for a while, and one day he decided Ma wasn’t quite what he wanted, but twelve-year-old Scarlett would be perfect.’ There’s no emotion in his voice. ‘I had to defend her.’

  Holy …

  I try to imagine Scarlett at twelve … myself at twelve, threatened by an adult. No wonder Rhett snapped. For the first time, the talk around Rhett fits with the person I’ve seen. It makes sense that he’d risk a beating to protect his sister.

  The hard straight line of his shoulders through his thin black T-shirt should be forbidding but instead I’m drawn to it. My heart is beating so loud in my ears, it drowns out the scrape of my feet on the porch. He’s breathing hard too, and I’m sure he doesn’t hear me approach.

  I see my hand reach out like I’m watching it from a million miles away. He doesn’t want me to touch him. I know it. But I can’t seem to help myself.

  There’s remembered violence coiled in every inch of his tense body.

  My hand wavers. I’m close now. I breathe in his fresh pine scent, with its hint of all-male sweat. His T-shirt is stuck to the muscles of his back, as if it’s damp.

  I touch him.

  The muscles contract. His breath sucks in like he’s winded.

  I think he presses back into my hand but I can’t be sure it’s not my imagination. ‘What happened?’

  He turns his head a little and I can see his granite-carved face. ‘He turned up late one afternoon. I tried to explain how Ma was out at work, but he wouldn’t leave. Gave me two dollars for the pinball games at the corner store and told me to take my time.’

  His jaw works. ‘I didn’t want his money. I tried calling Ma but she didn’t answer. I found him in Scarlett’s bedroom. She was out of it, like he’d given her something. And his hands were on her wrists, holding her down on the bed.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I couldn’t let him …’ His eyes are blank, seeing only the past. ‘I hurt him bad. The ambulance came, and the police. Sergeant Peters investigated the bastard, tried to have him locked up too, but a couple of bruises on Scarlett’s wrists weren’t evidence enough.’