by Sue Lawson
‘It was my idea,’ Khaden said before Taj could speak. ‘A sheet wouldn’t protect the carpet and stuff if it rains.’
‘Wouldn’t protect his precious computer,’ said Mike, dumping his keys on the table by the door. ‘Who went into my shed?’
‘Me,’ Khaden blurted. Taj’s glare burned into his skin. ‘It was my idea to check in the shed.’
Mike’s pupils were large and his face ruddy. He stood over the sofa where Taj and Khaden sat, backs now straight. Mike pointed at Khaden. ‘I’ve told you before, keep the hell out of my shed.’
Taj stood. ‘Ease up. It’s not like you were using it. It was dumped over your beer stash.’
A flame flickered in Mike’s eyes.
The room exploded with yelling and pushing. As Khaden squeezed between his father and brother to keep them apart, pain, red and barbed, flared in his already bruised cheek. Khaden fell and curled into a ball. Everything was silent for a moment, then Khaden’s ears began ringing.
‘Khade? You okay?’ Taj stood over him, his face a mask of fear. Mike was behind Taj, fists clenched.
Khaden stumbled to his feet, ears now squealing more than ringing. He tried to work out where the pain was coming from—his eye, ear or cheek? A voice exploded from him. ‘I’ve had it with you psychos! I’m so sick of your bullshit!’ Rage pulsing through every cell in his body, Khaden sprinted out the open front door.
Khaden leant against the brick fence, panting. Even though his heart beat flat-out and his vision was blurry, he knew where he was—outside Sas’s home. The pain had focused, like a torch beam in a dark room. His cheekbone and eye hurt like hell and he could still taste blood, though not as much as before. With his tongue, Khaden explored his mouth. The inside of his bottom lip was lumpy and tender.
Who had hit him? Dad or Taj?
Once his heart slowed, Khaden crept down Sas’s drive—not in a weird, stalker way, but to see if the lights were on. He’d have sent her a text if, in his rush to escape, he hadn’t left his phone at home.
Sas’s home was dark and reeked of sleep. He slunk back to the footpath and wondered where he could go. If Sas was asleep, Ruby would be too. Mrs Neri would take him in, but since Khaden was sure she’d called the cops the other night, that wasn’t going to happen.
That just left the last place he wanted to be. Home.
Khaden trudged up the street to the park where he, Sas and Ruby used to play as kids, and where they still hung out. Exhausted, he made for the old tram. The tram had been gutted and the middle seats replaced with a picnic table. Khaden weaved around the table, behind the driver’s cabin, and lay on his back staring at the ceiling. In the moonlight he could see the dark outline of the holes punched in the ceiling. Even though it was a warm night, he shivered.
With a sigh, Khaden curled into a ball. Using his arm for a pillow, he dozed, dreaming of angry voices, pain, blood and burning letters.
Khaden woke to the myna birds’ song filling the crisp air as the sun streamed through the empty tram windows. How long had he slept? Five hours or five minutes? His face hurt, his muscles were stiff and his mouth dry and scratchy. He staggered to his feet, stretched and headed for the drink tap near the car park.
Khaden gulped water and splashed it onto his aching face, gasping at his reflection in the silver bowl beneath the tap. His lip was fat and red, his hair wild, and the bruise on his cheek, huge. He slumped to the park bench and watched the magpies, myna birds and sparrows. Joggers paid him no attention as they puffed and panted past.
When the traffic was roaring like a ravenous beast and the sun was high in the sky, Khaden walked home.
Text Message—Sas to Khaden
Sas: Hey KD
Khaden: Miss me?
Sas: U bet. U OK?
Khaden: Yeah. Couldn’t be stuffed with school
Sas: Good move. Boring as bat shit. Wot u doing now?
Khaden: Chilling at home
Sas: Me and Ruby are at burger joint. Come over
Khaden: Be there in 5
Sas: Gr8 xoxo
Ruby
Sas promised we’d only be in the massive craft and furnishing store for an hour at the most, but we were there until the place closed.
The three of us turned off the main road and onto the street that led to Sas’s place. Khaden balanced the rolled rug Sas just had to have on his shoulder, and Sas held the ‘perfect’ pink laundry hamper. I carried the purple, fuchsia and lime curtains stuffed into bags.
I’d made a new discovery about plastic bags; they were more than an environmental issue, they were a pain issue. The handles biting into my palms, my burning feet and frustration with Sas’s indecision all combined to make my brain feel like it was about to explode.
‘I’m dying of thirst,’ said Khaden, who hadn’t said much since he met us at the burger place.
I wanted to ask him if he was all right, especially since the bruise on his cheek had grown overnight and his lip was fat, but something stopped me. ‘We could buy a drink at the supermarket,’ I said.
‘Can’t you wait ’til we get home?’ asked Sas. ‘Mum’s at work and I’m supposed to be looking after the girls and cooking dinner.’
She wasn’t worried about that when she took hours to choose curtain colours.
‘Sas, I’m dying here,’ said Khaden, his smile charming. ‘I’ll be quick.’
The sharpness in Sas’s face evaporated. ‘Promise?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Khaden.
At the supermarket, I stopped outside the automatic doors. ‘We can’t take this stuff in there,’ I said, lifting the bags holding the curtains.
‘Sure we can,’ said Khaden. ‘We have dockets.’ He turned to Sas. ‘You did keep the dockets?’
‘Yeeess.’ Sas rolled her eyes. ‘Anyway, as if they’d sell this stuff here.’
‘Fair point.’ Khaden strode through the entrance towards the dairy section at the back of the store. ‘One massive, cold iced coffee for me.’
I screwed up my nose. ‘Do you know how much sugar is in those things?’
‘Have you looked at Khaden lately?’ said Sas, her voice laced with something I couldn’t name. ‘Like he needs to worry about his weight.’
At the end of the cereal aisle, a woman with bobbed, silver hair and masses of gold jewellery ploughed her trolley into Khaden’s leg.
Khaden swore and dropped the rug.
The woman shook her head and looked at Khaden as though he was something gross she’d trodden in. ‘Watch where you are going.’
‘Are you for real?’ asked Sas, hands on her hips.
‘I. Beg. Your. Pardon.’ The woman’s gaze rested on Sas’s pierced nose.
‘You bumped into him.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Khaden. ‘I’m fine.’
The look on the woman’s face said she disagreed. ‘I’ll have an apology, thank you.’
‘Sorry. Didn’t see you coming,’ said Khaden.
The woman harrumphed and pushed her trolley towards the All Bran, her gold bangle clinking against her watch.
‘Stuck up old cow,’ hissed Sas, still watching the woman.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Khaden reached for a litre carton of ice coffee and picked up the rug.
The woman left her trolley and strutted around the corner. Sas thrust the laundry basket at me and pounced like a panther. She wheeled the woman’s trolley away from the cereal, past the dips and cheese, and into the pet food aisle.
‘What’s she doing?’ I whispered to Khaden as we followed.
Khaden smiled. ‘Giving that old bag the shits.’
Sas abandoned the trolley beside the canned dog food and strolled to the check out. ‘Diet drinks are this way, Ruby,’ she said, taking the laundry basket back. Her eyes sparkled.
As I reached for a Coke Zero from the fridge behind the express lanes, a strangled cry sounded. The grey-haired woman stormed out of the breakfast food aisle to the help desk. When she saw us, she raised her arm and poin
ted as though aiming a gun.
‘Those bogans have stolen my belongings.’
The beep of the checkouts and squeak of trolley wheels seemed to stop.
Bogans?
My spine straightened. ‘Is it an invisible trolley? Because if it’s not, I clearly don’t have it, and neither do my friends, unless Khaden has rolled it up in the rug.’
The woman gasped.
The store manager strode towards us. ‘What’s going on?’
‘These … youths,’ spat the woman, ‘stole my trolley.’
The manager looked us up and down. ‘Did you?’
Khaden pulled a face. ‘Why would we?’
‘Because you’re the type who would dump trolleys on street corners,’ snarled the woman.
‘Look, lady,’ said Sas, fluffed up like a fighting cat. ‘We haven’t got your trolley, okay?’ She turned to the manager. ‘I have to babysit my sisters. Can we go?’
The manager looked from us to the furious woman.
A girl, about our age, pushed a trolley towards us. ‘Hey, Alex, this trolley was by the dog food.’ I swear she smirked before lifting items out of the trolley. ‘Prunes. Prune juice. Metamucil. All Bran.’
The laughter bubbling in my throat just about choked me.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ blustered the woman, snatching the cereal pack out of the girl’s hand.
‘Is everything still in your handbag?’ asked the manager, watching the woman check her purse.
‘Apparently so.’
‘Well then,’ he said, ‘seems you just forgot where you left your trolley. May I suggest that in future, you keep your handbag under constant supervision.’
The woman’s face flushed.
‘So we bogans can go?’ asked Sas, shooting the woman a filthy look.
‘Sure,’ said the manager.
I cleared my throat and looked at the woman. ‘We’ll have an apology, thank you.’
The manager, girl who’d found the trolley and shoppers waiting at checkouts stared at the woman. Her mouth tightened and her face coloured.
‘I apologise.’ She snatched her trolley and strode into the nearest aisle.
The moment we stepped through the automatic doors onto the footpath, we lost it. Khaden leaned on the top of the rolled rug and laughed, Sas held on to the trolley bay for support and I clutched my sides, the laughter hurting, but impossible to stop.
‘Ruby, you were on fire!’ said Khaden after a few minutes. He opened his iced coffee and drank about half of it.
‘Is it an invisible trolley?’ mimicked Sas.
Khaden spluttered and wiped his mouth. ‘That was gold, Ruby.’
He handed the carton to Sas who took a sip.
‘Well, she gave me the shits. Bogans! Who does she think she is?’ I glared through the glass windows.
Khaden grinned and shouldered the rug again. ‘Come on, Feisty—we promised Sas we’d hurry.’
Sas took one of the bags from me so I could drink. I took a swig and offered the bottle to her.
‘Nah, I’m good. And you know what, I don’t care if we’re late. That was worth it.’
‘I swear my palms are bleeding.’ I said, swapping the plastic bags from one hand to the other as we turned into Sas’s street.
‘I hear you,’ said Khade.
‘Oh, suck it up, you two. It’s—’ Sas stopped at her driveway.
‘What’s…’ Then I heard it too. Crying and yelling. ‘Sounds like a major fight.’
‘No, not a fight—’ She dropped the laundry basket and ran before she finished the sentence.
‘Seriously, Sas, I can’t carry…’ But Sas had gone. With a sigh, I reached for the laundry basket.
Khaden shifted the rug. ‘Here, I’ll take it.’
When we reached Sas’s place, yelling and sobs blasted out the open front door. Khaden and I dumped our stuff on the verandah.
‘How did it happen?’ bellowed Sas.
Behind the noises, I could hear the shower running.
‘She was hungry.’ I think it was Madison’s voice, but she sounded so stressed it was hard to tell. ‘She wanted noodles and was sick of waiting for you, so she filled the saucepan with hot water from the tap, and slipped. It wasn’t my fault.’
‘You could have phoned to see where I was! Or just waited! What is wrong with you, Madison?’ screamed Sas.
Khaden and I rushed down the hall.
Eliza stood outside the bathroom, crying.
Khaden squatted beside her. ‘You okay?’
She sniffed and nodded. ‘Grace is burnt.’
I eased around Khaden and Eliza and squeezed into the bathroom. Madison was huddled near the toilet. Sas stood, fully dressed, under the shower with a shivering Grace, who wore a denim skirt but no T-shirt. Her chest and left arm were scarlet and blotchy.
‘I’ll phone your mum,’ I said, my voice low.
She looked up, her face as white as the tiles behind her. ‘Thanks.’
Khaden
Slumped on the sofa, Khaden thought about making dinner, but decided to wait. Taj would probably be hanging out with the band and Mike would be at work, or the pub.
Not that it mattered. After what happened with Sas’s sister, Khaden needed time alone. He couldn’t shake Grace’s screams from his head, or the look on Sas’s mum’s face when she rushed in the front door. Then there was Sas—so calm amid the chaos. Ruby was pretty calm too and kept Eliza and Madison out of Sas’s way. He’d just stayed with Sas, feeling useless.
Khaden thought of the curve of Sas’s calf, the curl of hair on the nape of her neck. He wanted to rush to her to check she was okay, but there was no point if they were still at the hospital.
He and Sas definitely weren’t just friends any more. But what were they? And what would it mean to Ruby?
When the back door slammed, Khaden jumped. He expected it to be Taj, but Mike walked into the lounge, holding a box of fried chicken.
‘You haven’t eaten, have you?’ he asked.
‘No.’ Khaden sniffed the air for beer, but could only smell petrol, and the food.
Mike placed the box on the coffee table.
‘Chicken okay?’
‘Always.’ Khaden forced a smile.
Mike frowned. For a moment, Khaden wondered why; then he remembered the bruise. He reached forward and flipped open the box. Steam filled the air and the smell made his mouth water. ‘Haven’t had take-away chook for ages.’
Mike’s frown folded into a look of concern. ‘Does it hurt?’
Khaden shook his head and took a bite of a drumstick.
Mike looked away from his son’s face. ‘A doctor should take a look at that.’
‘It’s fine. Just bruised.’
‘Just the same—’
‘It’s fine,’ repeated Khaden.
Mike ran his hands through his hair. ‘Mate, this stuff between Taj and me…’
Khaden watched his father search for words.
‘We’re too alike, both too stubborn. When Taj and I … just stay out of it, okay? Let us sort it out.’
Khaden dumped the chicken bone in the box.
‘Sort it out? You’ll kill each other first.’
‘Not if Taj keeps his mouth shut.’
‘Why do you have to react? Why can’t you ignore him like you used to tell me to?’
Mike hung his head.
‘You’re the adult, Dad.’
Mike slapped his knees. ‘I need a beer. Want anything?’
Something hot and bitter filled Khaden’s mouth. ‘I’m right.’
Text Message—Ruby to Sas, 8.15p.m.
Ruby: Hey Sas. How’s Grace? R u ok?
Text Message—Ruby to Sas, 8.45p.m.
Ruby: Left message on machine at yr home. Hope everything is ok xoxo
Text Message—Ruby to Khaden, 9.15p.m.
Ruby: Hey KD. Have u heard from Sas? Left messages, but haven’t heard. Wot about u?
Khaden: Pretty hectic. Grace in hospital o’nit
e. Sucks eh? Sas looking after E and M
Ruby: Thanx. Poor G. Sas ok?
Khaden: Meh—shaken up
Ruby: C u 2morrow
Text Message—Ruby to Sas, 9.25p.m.
Ruby: Hi Sas. KD says Grace in hospital o’nite. It’s awful. U ok? I’m here if you need anything. C u at school 2morrow xoxo
Ruby
Khaden, Sas and I strolled down the corridor to the gym for our last school assembly for the year.
‘Starting the day with assembly sucks,’ said Khaden. ‘Do you reckon Bergman will lecture us about rubbish and keeping our shirts tucked in?’
‘Can Bergman talk about anything else? You must have to be obsessed with litter and uniforms to be a vice-principal, what do you reckon, Sas?’
Sas was on the other side of Khaden, head down and shoulders rounded. ‘Probably.’
‘Hey, how’s Grace, this morning?’ I asked.
Sas’s head snapped up. ‘Since when did you care?’
It was as though she’d slapped me. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? I sent about 100 texts last night, and left messages.’
Sas stopped walking and the other students surged past us. ‘If you hadn’t been “sooo thirsty” and made us go to the supermarket, and if you hadn’t picked a fight with that old woman, I would have been home on time and Grace wouldn’t have been scalded.’
‘Are you serious?’
Sas folded her arms and tilted her head.
My mind swirled, my thoughts like leaves caught in a gust of wind. ‘Khaden, you were there.’
He raised both his hands. ‘Hey, keep me out of this.’
‘Don’t come over all caring now, Ruby, when it was all your fault.’ Sas flicked her hair over her shoulder and flounced towards the gym. Khaden hurried after her.
I stood in the middle of the hall, numb.
‘Problems with The Three Musketeers?’ asked Lyndal, her face covered in delight.
‘Whatever, Lyndal,’ I said, striding after Khaden and Sas.
In assembly, I sat at the back of the gym, near the geeks, rows behind Sas and Khaden. Bergman’s voice washed over me. All I could think about was the scorn in Sas’s eyes and how cruel she sounded. When Lyndal stood to receive her ‘citizenship award’, the air in the gym seemed thick and heavy. My hands tingled and my vision blurred. I had to get out of there, fast. When I stumbled to my feet and turned to run, The Fink blocked my path.
