Forever Blue

by Abby Wilder

  "Sorry about the other day," I said.

  Judah smiled, or rather, grimaced, and I noticed one of his teeth, the incisor, was crooked and bent, so it stuck out a little more than the rest of them, something different from Ruben.

  "Is there something you want?" he asked gruffly.

  "Do you mind if I hang out?"

  "With me?" His tone dripped with sarcasm.

  "Would that be a problem?" I asked. "I'm new here and I don't have many friends." It wasn't the best approach but if Ruben wanted me to tell the truth to Judah, I needed to strike up some sort of friendship and I didn't know how else to do it. I couldn't very well march up to him and declare I could see his dead brother.

  "Suit yourself."

  He held open the door and I slid across the seat. It was one of those old cars that had bench seats and seat belts that didn't retract. "Nice car," I said, once he twisted the key and the engine rumbled to life. The vibrations rattled through the seat. I wished I knew something more about cars. "It's a nice colour," I offered.

  Judah grunted. "It's had work done."

  He didn't say much as we headed towards his place. He looked over at me occasionally, as though I might jump from the car at any moment, and I began to think my idea of getting to know him might not be the best I had come up with. He passed his driveway and carried on down the road.

  "Just got to pick up something from the workshop," he said, as I twisted my head to watch the entrance to his house go by.

  Cara was there and her face hardened when she saw Judah.

  "Won't be a minute," Judah said and shut the door behind him.

  "Cara." He stood in front of her, hands stuffed into his pockets and staring at her cautiously.

  "I didn't think you were working today," she said, crossing her arms.

  "Just picking up some stuff."

  Cara looked through the window and bent down.

  "Cara, you know Lennon, don't you?" Judah said, waving over at me as he walked away.

  "What are you doing with Judah?" she asked and squinted at me accusingly. When I didn't answer, she raised her eyebrows and jutted her chin out expectantly. I shrugged and looked away.

  "You shouldn't be with him," she warned.

  "No one asked you," I replied.

  Cara's eyes narrowed. "You're being foolish."

  I twisted in the seat to face her. "Tell me something," I said. Cara straightened and looked at me expectantly, if not a little suspiciously. "If you're so convinced Judah killed your sister, why did your dad hire him?"

  "Because Dad is too blind to see that Judah did it."

  "Is it possible that you're wrong about him?"

  Cara bit her bottom lip until it turned white, and released it slowly. "Dad doesn't know Judah like I do." She turned on her heel and strode away.

  Judah wasn't long, and soon trees whizzed past and gravel crunched under the tyres as we came to an abrupt stop outside the mini-mansion.

  Mr Mitchell, who was sitting outside sipping on a glass of wine and reading the newspaper, glared at his son and shook his head. He was a tall man, an imposing man. I saw where Judah and Ruben got their looks.

  I waved a little but Mr Mitchell just scowled and turned away.

  "What's up with your dad?" I asked as I followed Judah into the garage.

  "Nothing. He doesn't like me driving too fast down the driveway, but of course, I keep doing it just to piss him off."

  He walked across to his tool chest, took his blazer off and threw it on the floor, before starting to pull things from the shelves. "If you want to 'hang out,' as you put it, this is what I do." He untucked his shirt and loosened his tie before lifting it over his head and throwing it on top of the blazer. "Do you know your way around a tool kit?"

  I looked at him blankly.

  He sighed and held something up. "Do you know what this is?"

  "A spanner?" I guessed.

  "No, it's a crescent. See? It adjusts." He twisted the dial until the mouth of the tool grew wider. "Anyway, if you're going to 'hang out,' you may as well pass me some tools."

  He turned a bucket upside-down for me to sit on and wheeled himself under the car on some sort of skateboard. I sat and stared at his feet poking out.

  "Pass me a rag would you?" His voice was muffled.

  At least I knew what that was. I found one and pressed it into his extended hand. I mulled over different conversation topics in my head, but in the end, decided just to plunge straight in.

  "Do you miss your brother?"

  The tinkering under the car stopped. He wheeled himself out and stared at me. "Is that why you're here? To find out the sordid details? Did Judah Mitchell kill his own brother?"

  "No," I said, mortified. "That's not what I meant at all. I lost my brother too and I just thought—"

  "What? That we would bond? That we shared something in common and just wanted to help me through the process? Any other stupid questions you want answered? Don't bother." He wheeled himself back under the car.

  I let out my breath slowly. This was going to be harder than I thought. "Sorry." I sat for a moment trying to think of something a little less sensitive, but my mind was blank so I just sat in silence.

  "Six mill spanner." He stuck his hand out, then waved impatiently when I didn't immediately place the tool in it. I grabbed something out of the kit and placed it in his outstretched hand. He wheeled himself out and pointedly put down the tool I had given him, waving another in front of me. "Six mill spanner," he muttered, before disappearing under the car again. Already his shirt was stained with grease.

  It was not working out as I planned. I had assumed that Judah, the real Judah, would be just like Ruben, easy to be around, easy to talk to. But he was nothing of the sort. He was rude and extremely hard to have a conversation with. He answered any questions I had with the briefest and bluntest of answers. It made me think back to the conversations my father had to endure with me, and I promised myself to go a little easier on him.

  After much clanging and grunting, Judah wheeled himself out. His forehead was smeared with grease, matching the stain on his shirt. "Look, Lennon, that's your name, isn't it? Lennon, like the Beatles? As much as I appreciate this sudden interest, is there a point? I mean, you don't talk to me, don't acknowledge me in any way for the few months you have lived here, and now you want to hang out? I don't get it."

  "I just thought we could be friends."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know." What could I say? Your dead brother wants to speak to you through me and I thought I'd just get to know you a little first? "I haven't made many friends yet, and—I don't know. Never mind, just forget it."

  I got off the bucket and started to walk down the driveway. I attempted another half-hearted wave and smile in Mr Mitchell's direction, but again, he just scowled. I made it half way down the drive before I heard the low rumble of Judah's car behind me.

  "Look, I'm sorry," he said leaning out the open window, one arm slung over the side of the car. "Not many people want to be friends since Ruben died, they usually avoid me."

  "Whatever." I kept striding down the drive, eyes set straight ahead.

  "Lennon, wait up. Let me at least give you a ride back to your car."

  "Don't bother."

  "Don't be an idiot. Hop in," he said, driving the car at the slow pace I was walking.

  I stopped and crossed my arms. "I'm an idiot, now? First, I'm here to find out the—how did you put it—sordid details, then I ask stupid questions, and now I'm an idiot?"

  Judah sighed loudly and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "Okay, you've got me. I'm a jerk. But would you at least hop in so I can just give you a ride?"

  I walked around to the other side of the car, climbed in and slammed the door, crossing my arms and turning away from him.

  "I didn't, by the way," he said.

  "Didn't what?"

  "I didn't kill my brother."

  "I know."

  "And how do yo
u know?" he asked sharply.

  "I've got my sources."

  He looked at me curiously, and I noticed that his freckles formed the same pattern as Ruben's. "And they would be?" he questioned.

  "You'd never believe me if I told you."

  "Try me."

  "Maybe another time."

  There was no way I was bringing Ruben up. I just wanted to get out of the car. We pulled up to where Elmo was left in the school carpark. Ruben was leaning against the car. He broke out into a smile when he saw me and I had to stop myself from waving.

  "What are you smiling at?" Judah asked.

  I dropped the smile I wasn't even aware that I had. "Can't a girl be happy to see her car?"

  "If that's your car, then no."

  "Leave Elmo alone."

  "Elmo? You named your car Elmo?" He didn't laugh, but I could see the amusement in his eyes and in the way he twisted his mouth.

  "Thanks for the ride," I muttered and opened the door.

  "I'll wait until you've got that hunk of junk started," he said, nodding to my car as I passed the driver's window.

  Ruben grinned. "A treasure, isn't he?"

  I unlocked the door and sure enough, Elmo coughed and sputtered when I turned the key. With an annoying smile on his face, but without a word, Judah hooked my car's battery up to his with the jumper leads he had in the back.

  "You need a new battery."

  "No kidding."

  "Swing by the shop sometime and I'll hook you up."

  I waited for the sharp barb or smart comment but there was none. "Thanks," I muttered.

  "So, things didn't go so well?" Ruben said when we were alone in the car.

  I gripped the steering wheel then slammed the car into reverse. "You could say that."

  "Don't be too hard on him. He's—"

  "Yeah, he's been through a lot, I get that, but you have too and you're not a jerk."

  Ruben chuckled. "He's not that bad, he just spends a lot of time by himself."

  "There could be a reason for that."

  Chapter Twenty

  Lennon

  Because of Mum's budding romance with Flynn, we were invited to The Auto Shop's annual barbeque for employees and their families. The Armistead's house was situated past the workshop and down a muddy driveway. Broken down and rusty cars lay scattered in the paddock. There was no garden and only a gravelled area for parking. The house was made of the same corrugated iron as the workshop but painted a dark blue. The inside wasn't much better than the outside. Car parts covered the kitchen counter and empty pizza boxes lay discarded in a pile. Thankfully, it was a lovely clear evening with only a hint of a breeze and we were all able to sit outside on the deck.

  I had forgotten Judah would be there, and was a little surprised when I saw him and his parents sitting on the wooden chairs, looking out of place. Well, Judah didn't. He had on blue jeans streaked with grease but his parents looked around the house with their noses held high. I wondered why Flynn had bothered to invite them. They certainly didn't appear to be the beer-drinking, barbequing type. Wine-sipping, fine dining type was more appropriate. Other than Flynn, Cara, Mum, myself and the Mitchells, there was only one other worker who had brought along his young wife and toddler.

  It was strange seeing Judah chatting away to Flynn. Stretched out on the chair, legs crossed at the ankles and hands behind his head, he looked so much like Ruben it hurt.

  Flynn introduced us to everyone and Mum and Mrs Mitchell delved into conversation, catching up on lost years. I looked for a flicker of recognition when Mr Mitchell was introduced to me, but he didn't remember our previous encounters. They were Ruben's family, yet I remained distant from them, as though there was no connection between us. Of course, for them there wasn't.

  It was a casual affair. The adults chatted easily among themselves, thanks to a liberal supply of wine and beer, while Cara sat with her arms crossed and glaring angrily at the floor. Judah, although he was partly invested in the conversation between his father and Flynn, often looked over at her apologetically, as though he was trying to make up for something, trying to prove he was worthy of at least the briefest of glances, but she refused to look up.

  When the sun set, the adults moved inside and it was just Cara, Judah and me left outside to tend the fire crackling in the brazier.

  Judah cleared his throat. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

  Cara looked up then, but she didn't answer. She shook her head and got up from her chair to walk inside, slamming the door behind her.

  "She's delightful tonight," I said, awkwardly grinning at Judah. It had been over two weeks since our last encounter.

  He laughed, just a little, it was more like a shrug of his shoulders with a grunt-like sound effect. "She's not that bad."

  "I'm not sure she feels the same about you."

  "She has her reasons." He chewed on his bottom lip and scuffed the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "Oh, by the way, I got you something." He stood and stretched his hands high above his head so a little strip of flesh showed between his jeans and tee shirt, before wandering in the direction of the cars. "You coming, or what?" he yelled as he popped open the boot of his car. "This is to say sorry for being a jerk the other day. I'm not used to people—" He paused. "People being nice."

  He pulled a black object out from his boot. "A battery?" I said.

  "Yup. Open your bonnet and I'll flick it in."

  "I can't take that," I said, stunned by his offer.

  He frowned. "Why not? It's not new or anything, but it will be a heck of a lot better than the one you've got. You might actually be able to leave the stereo on and it should start afterwards."

  "I don't know what to say. I mean, I'll pay you for it but I can't just take it from you." I had no idea what price they were, but I knew batteries weren't cheap.

  "Why not? It's just a battery. I've got lots of them lying around." He walked over to my car and reached inside to flick open the bonnet.

  "So who have you been talking to about Ruben?" Judah's voice came out muffled from underneath the bonnet.

  "What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

  "You said you believed me. No one in this town believes me, not even my own parents, they say they do, but they don't. Well, Dad doesn't anyway. So, what makes you so sure?"

  "Mr Armistead believes you, and you just don't look the type." I couldn't tell him the real reason, not yet.

  "So I haven't got the mark of Cain on my forehead?"

  I looked at him quizzically.

  "Cain and Abel? The Bible? Cain killed his brother?"

  I shook my head.

  "Did your parents not take you to Sunday School?" he asked.

  "Mum's more into the belief we are all our own gods and Dad thinks that people who believe in God are weak."

  "And you?" Judah finished installing the battery and leaned against the side of my car, arms crossed.

  "Don't know, to be honest. Do you believe in God, or heaven and hell, an afterlife?" I said, twisting the conversation.

  "Who knows?" He scuffed the ground with the toe of his shoe. "Sometimes I think Ruben is still hanging around. Well, his spirit or soul, or whatever. I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it feels like he is still here watching me, and Mum is certain his spirit lives on in some form or another. If a bird follows her around for a bit, she claims it's Ruben keeping an eye on her." He peered across at me. "What about you?"

  "I used to be sceptical, but these days I think almost anything is possible." I leaned against Elmo. "What was he like? If you don't mind me asking."

  Ruben had said he was different from when he was alive. I guess a year of solitude with nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company would do that to a person.

  "Ruben? I loved him and hated him, like all brothers do, I guess. He was good at everything. Well, the things Dad thought profitable, not like wasting your time working on cars." Judah shifted his weight and stood with his shoulders squared. "You'll never make any m
oney fiddling around with cars, son." He imitated the stance and voice of his father, then leaned back against the car again. "Ruben was good at school, good at sport, popular, everything my parents wanted. I loved him, but I couldn't help but feel like I always came off second best. He always got what he wanted." Bitterness crept into his tone. "He dated virtually everyone in the school. He could be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he meant well. His funeral was huge. I think the whole town turned up. Don't get me wrong, I loved him, it's just sometimes it was hard being his brother, and it's even harder now that he is gone. I'll never be able to live up to his memory, so I don't even bother to try."

  The music of Simon and Garfunkel grew louder as Cara opened the door and called out to us that dessert was ready.

  "I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this," he said. "Let's not talk about it anymore, okay?"

  "Not talk about what?" Cara looked between us, her eyes narrowing as we walked towards the house.

  "Nothing," Judah said, ducking past her.

  "I think your mother has had a little too much to drink, Judah. She and your mum," she nodded to me, "are up dancing on the table."

  Judah looked back, surprised that she had spoken to him, then recovered. "I better tell Dad to get her home. If she's up dancing, then it won't be long until she hits the wall and things turn messy."

  Just before I walked inside, I heard my name being whispered in the darkness. I looked back, and in the dim light, I could just make out Ruben's silhouette.

  "Give me a minute," I said to Cara, who just shrugged and let the door shut in my face.

  I walked over to where Ruben was waiting, hands stuffed in his pockets and grinning impishly. "Sorry, I just couldn't stand going any longer without seeing you." He wrapped his arms around me and inhaled deeply.

  I stepped back, looking over at where I could see everyone inside. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "I wanted to see you."

  "You can't just turn up like this."

  "You're annoyed." He pouted playfully.

  "Not annoyed. It's just with all that is going on, my head is in a complete muddle, and when you're around it's easy to forget that other people can't see you."