by Sue Lawson
‘The Basement has the best bands.’
Her change of mood and the corner seat thing had made me uncomfortable. I snorted. ‘Been lately, Sas?’
She folded her arms. ‘I read, Ruby.’
‘Angst Ridden.’
‘What?’ I didn’t mean to snap at Khaden.
‘Angst Ridden is the name of the band,’ he said, reaching for one of my fries. ‘They’re indie rock.’
‘You wouldn’t like them,’ added Sas.
She was right, but it still hurt. Sas and Khaden liked the same sort of music—rock and bands from the 60s and 70s. I remembered one time, when we were in Year Seven, Sas and I went over to Khaden’s place to work on an English project. While I worked, they hung out with Khaden’s dad, and played stuff from his vinyl record collection.
I sipped my diet cola.
At the table in front of us, a guy with flecks of grey through his hair talked to a woman with straight blonde hair. The woman laughed. The man reached out and stroked her face. Maybe it was the grey flecks in his hair, or the arch of his eyebrows, but something about him reminded me of Dad.
The man caught a strand of the woman’s hair and tucked it behind her ear.
Sas and Khaden’s chatter, the buzz of the ice-cream machine, and drone of voices seemed to stop. My skin felt cold. The air was too thick to breathe.
‘You okay, Ruby?’ asked Sas, her voice muffled, as though my ears were filled with water.
‘Yeah, you look bad,’ said Khaden.
‘Have to get out of here.’ I slid out of the seat and bolted. At the traffic lights, I bent over and gasped for air. My legs were weak and shaky.
‘Ruby! You just about trampled a little kid,’ yelled Sas. ‘What’s wrong?’ She placed a hand on my shoulder. ‘Eww. You’re all sweaty.’
I leant against the traffic light.
‘Hey,’ said Khaden, strolling towards us. He held a drink cup and had my bag slung over his shoulder. ‘What’s up with you two?’
‘Ruby’s sick,’ said Sas.
Khaden shrugged. ‘Figured. Why else would you leave your stuff behind?’ He thrust the paper cup at me. ‘Want your drink?’
‘Thanks,’ I croaked. The icy cola fizzed in my throat. ‘Felt like I was going to be sick.’
Sas wrinkled her nose and stepped back.
‘Public spew? The café toilets were right beside us.’
‘I needed fresh air.’
‘Maybe we should walk you home,’ said Khaden, even though he and Sas lived the other direction from me.
‘I’ll be fine. Honest. It was just stuffy in there.’
Khaden frowned and opened his mouth but Sas cut him off. ‘If you’re sure. See you tomorrow.’
Feet cemented to the pavement, I watched them cross the road and walk away, unreachable through the snarling traffic.
I was lying on my bed reading when I heard Mum pull into the driveway. It was just after seven. I brushed my hair and raced downstairs to the family room, where Archie stood in front of the TV, holding the PlayStation control in both hands. Harrison was hunkered down in the corner of the couch with the other control. Mojo lay between them, head on her paws.
‘Mum’s home.’
Archie and Harrison ignored me.
‘Heelllooo?’
‘What do you want us to do? Alert the media?’ asked Harrison, not taking his eyes from the game.
Archie giggled.
‘You’re hilarious, Harrison.’
‘What’s your problem, Ruby?’ asked Harrison.
‘You,’ I snapped.
Mum stumbled through the back door, arms laden with pizza boxes, chips wrapped in butcher’s paper and a bottle of soft drink. ‘Sorry I’m late. Had paperwork to finish.’ She placed the food on the bench and took plates and glasses from the cupboard. ‘Takeaway as a peace offering?’
‘Cool,’ said Archie, jumping off the couch and running to the kitchen. He grabbed the chips and bolted back to the family room.
I grabbed the pizzas and bottle of drink.
Mum followed with the plates. ‘How was your day, Ruby?’
‘Good.’
‘So why are you so grumpy?’ asked Archie.
‘Yeah, hate to see if you had a bad day,’ said Harrison.
Archie sniggered.
I ignored them and placed the food on the coffee table. ‘Where’s Dad?’
‘Golf committee meeting.’
Since when did the golf committee meet during the week? I swallowed the scoff in my throat.
‘Can we watch TV while we eat?’ asked Archie, tossing the game control on the sofa.
‘Sure.’ Mum pushed Mojo aside and sat between Archie and Harrison.
I grabbed a handful of chips and sat in the armchair.
While we ate, Archie and Harrison cracked up at The Simpsons. Even Mum giggled.
A yellow man crashing a golf buggy set off a chain reaction. I thought of Dad, which made me think of the café, which made me feel sick again.
I snatched up the plates and empty pizza boxes and carried them to the kitchen.
‘Suck. What do you want?’ asked Harrison.
I scrunched up the chip paper and scowled at him. ‘Nothing from you.’
Mum sighed. ‘Please, you two. I’ve had a huge day at work.’
I stacked the dishwasher and took the boxes and chip paper to the recycling bin. There was something soothing about being busy, but once I was done, a sensation bobbed beneath my skin.
‘I’m going to bed,’ I said.
‘It’s only eight o’clock, Ruby.’ Mum twisted around to look over the sofa at me. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Just a bit sick.’
‘You don’t look sick,’ said Harrison.
‘Yeah, you stuffed into those chips, fatty,’ said Archie, grinning at Harrison.
‘Shut your—’
‘No fighting,’ said Mum, managing to sweep a filthy look from me to the boys.
‘Yeah, but—’
She cut me off with a raised hand.
‘Come on, Mojo,’ I growled. Mojo lifted her head, then snuggled back against Harrison’s thigh. I stormed up the stairs.
‘And there goes my happy sister,’ said Archie.
Their laughter made me stomp harder.
Khaden
Khaden glanced at his brother and father, who concentrated on their meals as they sawed through the tough steak. His knife scraped on the plate, breaking the silence that filled the kitchen.
Mike was the first to speak. ‘Got any homework, Khaden?’
Taj scoffed.
‘What?’ asked Mike, his eyes harsh.
‘Mate, there’s only a few weeks of school left—as if he has homework,’ said Taj, shaking his head.
‘I’m not your mate,’ said Mike. ‘And since when has a drop out been a school expert?’
‘Lasted a year longer than you.’
Khaden’s spine stiffened. He had to distract them. ‘I’ll clean up.’ Even though he hadn’t finished eating, he picked up his plate and reached for Mike’s.
Mike ignored him. ‘I left school because I had an apprenticeship with Ford, not some piss-weak job with a band.’
Khaden knew this was heading the same way it always did since Taj left school. Actually, not the same. At first, Mike and Taj had talked, but that had developed into yelling. And now it was something more, something Khaden had to stop.
He placed the plates beside the sink. ‘Who’s up for ice-cream?’
‘The mighty Ford apprenticeship.’ Taj folded his arms. ‘Tell me again how you worked your way up to the big legend you are—’
Mike slapped the table. Chairs screeched on the vinyl. Mike and Taj stood, glaring, mirror-images of each other—stocky bodies, thick necks and scruffy hair the colour of the dirt in the backyard.
The world held its breath—or maybe it was just Khaden.
Mike’s fingers, splayed on the table, twitched. He lurched forward, but Taj side-stepped h
im, colliding with Khaden. The momentum sent Khaden sprawling backwards, his back crashing into the kitchen cupboards.
Taj, face no longer filled with fury, rushed towards him ‘Khaden, are you—’
Mike grabbed Taj by the T-shirt and thrust him against the wall. The house shuddered.
Taj’s eyes filled with fear.
Khaden leapt to his feet. ‘Dad, leave it. I’m fine.’
‘You piece of…’ Mike shook Taj as though he was fine and wiry like Khaden. Taj’s chin quivered.
‘Dad.’ Khaden placed his hand on his father’s shoulder.
Mike shrugged him off. ‘Not such a big man now, are you? Eh?’
There were things a younger brother learnt the hard way, so when Khaden saw the shift in Taj’s eyes, he stepped back.
Taj grunted and shoved Mike, who stumbled into the table. The salt and pepper shakers crashed to the floor.
‘Don’t ever touch me again.’ Taj turned to the door.
‘Don’t you walk away from me!’ bellowed Mike, his face the colour of an eggplant. He pushed Taj’s shoulder.
‘Gonna hit me now, hero?’
Khaden’s stomach lurched.
Mike’s hand curled into a fist. As he threw a punch, Taj ducked. Mike’s fist smashed into the wall.
‘You’re psycho!’ yelled Taj, backing out of the room. The backdoor slammed.
Khaden’s ears buzzed and his legs were like set concrete.
Mike rubbed his fist and stared at the gaping hole left in the plaster. ‘Go to your room,’ he snarled at Khaden.
Ruby
Sas, Khaden and I were stretched out in the sun in our place near the library. This spot was protected from wind most of the time, and, best of all, no one else hung out here.
‘So I was thinking,’ said Khaden, sitting up and hugging his knees to his chest, ‘are we going to do anything on the last day of school?’
‘What, like a prank or something?’ I asked.
‘Yeah.’
Sas sat up and grinned. ‘If we start planning now, it’ll be awesome.’
‘We could chuck water bombs.’
Khaden laughed.
Sas rolled her eyes.
‘Ruby, seriously? Water bombs?’
‘What?’ I squeaked looking from one to other.
‘Water bombs are…’
‘…pathetic,’ said Sas, finishing Khaden’s sentence. ‘Nah, this has to be good.’
Lyndal Reicher, Penny Lam, Chris Holbrook and Dom Plizga sauntered across the grass and weaved between Sas and Khaden. Lyndal stumbled and just about stood on Sas’s hand.
‘Watch it,’ hissed Sas.
Lyndal’s smile was fake. ‘Sorry.’
Lyndal and the others sprawled on the grass—our grass. She giggled and fluttered her eyelashes at Chris. Her laugh made the hairs on the back of my arms and neck prickle.
‘Why can’t they sit somewhere else?’ I muttered.
Sas glared at them. ‘She’s pissed with me.’
‘What did you do this time?’ asked Khaden, sounding tired.
Sas shrugged. ‘Just pointed out that bike riders don’t shave their legs for aerodynamics, but so it’s easier to clean up any injuries. That, and so it’s easier to take off any strapping or bandages.’ Sas watched Lyndal as she spoke. Her voice became loud. ‘And so, I won the PE trivia challenge.’
Lyndal’s head snapped around. ‘What’s your problem, Sarah?’
‘No problem, Lyndal,’ said Sas, her eyes wide and voice sweet. ‘Just telling Khaden and Ruby about my epic win today.’
Lyndal’s face became as red as her hair tie.
‘There’s a first for everything,’ sneered Penny.
‘How’d you know that stuff about bike riders, Sas?’ asked Chris, leaning towards us.
Sas shrugged and gave him her best smile. ‘Saw it on TV.’
‘Cool,’ said Dom, nodding.
‘Let’s go for a walk.’ Lyndal, stood and brushed down the back of her dress.
‘I thought you wanted to sit here,’ said Dom.
Lyndal stalked off without answering. Penny scurried after her and the boys followed with a shrug.
‘She’s such a psycho,’ said Sas, her eyes narrowed. ‘Chris is too good for her.’
‘Why do girls think Chris is hot?’ asked Khaden.
‘Beats me,’ I said. ‘His neck is too thick.’
Khaden’s head snapped in my direction. ‘Are you serious? You loved him last week.’
‘Have you seen his hands?’ I shuddered. ‘He bites his nails, right back.’
‘And that put you off him?’
I shrugged.
‘Hey,’ said Sas, a smile crawling across her face. ‘I have an idea for our prank.’
Sas
Khaden burnt me a CD by Angst Ridden, the group Taj is working with. The title track, Lies, made me think of Dad.
Crushed and dying, broken and bleeding
By your lies, by your lies.
Cold and unfeeling, words with no meaning,
No more lies, no more lies.
Khaden
Khaden walked home from school, feeling light and happy for the first time in ages. After Ruby turned off, Sas had given him the Arctic Monkey’s guitar tab she’d printed while she was supposed to be doing a Photoshop project in InfoTech. He couldn’t wait to play it.
Yep, not a bad day at all, he thought as he emptied the letterbox. He walked to the back door and flicked through the mail. Two envelopes with clear windows for Mike, a ‘To The Householder’ Reader’s Digest, you’ve won a squillion dollars envelope, and a cream one to ‘Mr Khaden Elliot’. It took him a moment to realise it was for him.
Khaden studied the handwriting. Black ink, neat and curly—a girl’s writing, but not Sas’s and definitely not Ruby’s scrawl.
At the back door, he studied the postmark and turned the envelope over. A cold blast of anger buffeted him.
Anika Moloney
C/o Toowoomba Post Office
Toowoomba, Queensland.
A whirring sound filled his head, almost like the ringing in his ears after a concert, only worse. He shoved the envelope in his pocket, unlocked the back door and dumped the rest of the mail on the kitchen bench.
In his room, Khaden dropped his backpack on the unmade bed and took the guitar tab Sas had found for him from his bag. The excitement that had filled him when she’d given him the music was gone. Instead of a challenge, something to become lost in, the music was just sheets of paper in his hand.
Khaden pulled the letter from his pocket and ran his finger over her writing. Anger roared through him.
Stuff her and her letter.
He charged to the kitchen, snatched a box of matches from the junk drawer and bolted out the back door. On the cement path under the empty clothesline, he struck a match and held it to the corner of the envelope.
Thirteen years and now she made contact, and not with Taj or Mike, or even all three of them, but with him.
Flame licked the envelope and took hold. Khaden dropped the match and the envelope and watched Anika’s letter burn. Instead of relieved, he felt sad and alone. Khaden stomped on the flames, but it was too late. All that was left of his mother’s letter was a pile of ash.
Maybe it was better this way.
Ruby
Earbuds in, I stared out my bedroom window at the black outline of the gum trees swaying, slow and steady, in the breeze. I wished I felt slow and steady. Instead I felt fuzzy. Not soft fuzzy, but sharp, edgy fuzzy, all because of Dad, again. What was the deal with that speech over dinner about me putting in a bigger effort ‘with everything I do?’
The lecture was bad enough without Harrison’s smug expression. Mr Perfect Next Year’s School Captain. Somehow, I managed to leave the table without yelling at either of them, but my chair crashed to the ground as I walked off. I ignored Dad’s demand that I pick it up.
Since then, about half an hour ago, I’d been lying here, staring and list
ening to music.
The door opened and Mum walked in. ‘What’s going on, Ruby?’
I took out my earbuds and sat up. ‘Nothing,’ I said to her knees. Since the Economics excursion to the city law courts, I avoided her face. If she looked into my eyes, she’d know what I had seen, what I knew.
She sighed and leaned against the doorframe. ‘Ruby, you can’t even look at me.’
‘Maybe Dad should worry about putting in more effort with us, instead of lecturing me. He’s never here.’
Mum folded her arms. ‘This project he’s working on is big.’
‘What about golf?’
‘He’s on the committee now, Ruby, and they’re making big changes to the club.’
I scoffed. ‘Yeah, right.’
Mum crossed the room and sat on the bed beside me. ‘How about we try something new?’
‘What?’
‘Honesty.’
‘What about?’ I asked, leaping off the bed and rushing to my desk.
‘About whatever is bothering you. You’ve been snappy and distant for months.’
‘No I haven’t.’ I leant against the edge of my desk.
Mum patted the bed for me to come back and sit with her. I didn’t move. ‘Ruby, something’s troubling you. Let me help.’
The scene at the city café flashed through my mind. ‘I’m fine, okay?’ I turned to look at the pin board above my desk, covered in pictures of Sas, Khaden and me—lying on towels eating orange icy-poles at the pool, dressed as the Three Blind Mice for Book Week in Year Four, surrounding the snowman we’d made on the school trip to Mt Hotham this year.
‘Is everything okay with Sas and Khaden?’
I gritted my teeth. Mum wasn’t about to give up. I spun to face her. ‘Mum, can we not? I’m tired, that’s all.’
‘Tired doesn’t explain, or excuse, why you’re so snappy—no, rude to your father.’
‘Drop it, Mum. I’m fine!’
She stood and walked towards me. I knew what was next—she’d hug me, tell me how much she and Dad loved me, that I could talk to them about anything. I didn’t want her hug or words.
‘I’m busting,’ I said, slipping past her to the bathroom.
As I closed the door behind me I heard Mum sigh. The soles of her sandals clacked on the wooden stairs as she walked away.
Khaden
Khaden stirred the pasta sauce and turned down the gas under the bubbling pot. Sas had taught him how to cook pasta a few weeks ago. Instead of making his own tomato sauce, like Sas did, he’d used a jar of sauce he’d bought from the supermarket, and he’d left out the peas, grated carrot and zucchini that Sas had added to her sauce, too. Most of the time Sas was a junk food fiend like Khaden, but when she cooked she came over all healthy, like Ruby.
