by Sue Lawson
‘I told you, I—’
‘Don’t, Ruby, the guilt’s all over your face.’ He leant against the kitchen bench. ‘So where’d you go? Chadstone?’
I chucked his jocks, followed by the socks I’d already paired, at his face. ‘This is your job.’
Harrison grinned. ‘Not for the next couple of weeks.’
I growled deep in my throat and snatched up the towels, tripping on the chair leg on the way to the linen cupboard.
‘Karma.’ Harrison’s laugh was like tiny knives on my skin.
Khaden
Khaden tossed the last load of timber into the industrial bin and began flattening tile and grout boxes for recycling. He was pulling packing tape off a large carton when Mr Neri came out the back.
‘Eh, Khaden, take a break,’ he called. ‘Those boxes won’t run off.’ He sat on the cement step and took a pack of cigarettes from his top pocket.
Khaden bunched the tape into a ball, chucked it in the bin and sat on the step beside Mr Neri.
‘Want one?’ he asked as he held the lighter to the cigarette.
Khaden looked at the picture of the black teeth and scarred mouth on the back of the packet. ‘Nah, I’ll pass.’
Mr Neri sucked on the cigarette. The end flared red. ‘So, Maria said you should come for dinner tonight.’ He blew out smoke in a steady stream. ‘She’s making lasagna.’
Khaden’s mouth watered. ‘I’ll have to check with Dad.’
‘Bring him, and Taj.’
‘You sure? I—’
Mr Neri raised his right hand. Cigarette smoke drifted into Khaden’s face. ‘No arguments. Dinner tonight, all of us.’
‘Thanks.’ Khaden stared at the moss growing where the asphalt met the concrete steps.
‘Khaden, you okay? At home?’
It was as though the smoke from Mr Neri’s cigarette had bunched in Khaden’s throat. ‘Yeah.’
‘It doesn’t sound okay.’
Khaden glanced at his boss and neighbour, and let out a shaky sigh.
‘Maybe Mike and I will talk, tonight.’
A chill, like an electric charge, raced through Khaden. ‘You know what, it’s probably better if you don’t. Dad’s just worried about Taj, and—’
‘Worried? Sounds angry—too angry, too often.’
Joey stuck his head out the back door. ‘Dad, that new supplier is here.’
Mr Neri dropped his cigarette, ground it into the asphalt and patted Khaden on the shoulder. ‘It’s not right, Khaden.’
Sas
As if things weren’t complicated enough, now I’ve gone and turned Ruby the Good into Ruby the Bad. Because of me, Ruby hung out with us, even though she was grounded, and stole a lipgloss. Sure, I dared her to do both things, but I didn’t think she would.
What worries me more than Ruby sneaking out and stealing, is how she freaked outside the shop. She was all sweaty and paranoid, which was gross enough, but then she had this major hissy fit and caught a tram home without us. What’s that all about? She’s doing my head in.
If Dad had just trusted me enough to tell me the truth, to treat me like an adult, everything would be normal between Ruby and me, I know it.
Text Message—Khaden to Sas
Khaden: Wassup?
Sas: Not much. U?
Khaden: Meh
Sas: U ok?
Khaden: Reckon yr Mum would care if I came over?
Sas: Nah. She’ll be cool. I’ll check tho
Khaden: K
Sas: Told you! All okay. See you soon xoxo
Khaden: Thanx
Khaden
Khaden stumbled out of the park and up the street to Sas’s place. He took a deep breath and knocked on her front door. While he waited, he stared at his bare feet. As the door opened, a slice of yellow light splashed across his grubby toes.
Sas gasped. ‘Your dad?’
Without looking up, Khaden nodded.
Sas’s mum Lou called down the corridor.
‘Would you two like a Milo?’ Her bright voice jarred in the silence.
Sas stepped aside to allow Khaden in.
‘Oh my, Khaden,’ said Lou, rushing forward. ‘What on earth happened?’ She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him inside.
Khaden made a croaking noise, then started to cry. He hurt too much to be embarrassed.
‘Sas, bring the first aid box from the kitchen cupboard,’ said Lou, her voice gentle, but strong. ‘I’ll need towels, a face washer and bowl of warm water too.’
As Sas ran down the hall, Lou led Khaden to the lounge room. He slumped on the sofa, bloodied face in his hands. Lou rubbed his back in slow circles.
Sas placed towels, a bowl and a plastic box filled with first aid stuff on the coffee table.
‘Thanks, love,’ said Lou, dipping a face washer into the bowl.
While Lou cleaned his face, Khaden stared straight ahead at the frosted glass door, refusing to flinch or complain, even though it hurt like hell.
‘Should we go to the hospital?’ whispered Sas.
‘No,’ snapped Khaden. ‘I mean, I’m fine. Honest.’ He pulled away from Lou. ‘Thanks and everything, but … I’m sorry, I should go—’
Lou froze mid-wring of the face cloth. ‘First of all, Khaden, do not apologise. I’m glad you trusted us enough to come here, and second, you will not go anywhere. You’ll sleep on the sofa, won’t he Sas?’
‘Yes. Sure. I’ll make up a bed.’ Sas left the room again, this time returning with a doona and pillow.
‘Now, would you two like a Milo?’ asked Lou, gathering up the bowl and first aid box. This time her voice wasn’t bright, but low and calm.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Sas made up the sofa opposite Khaden, the only sound the rustle of the sheets against the upholstery. She fluffed the pillow, placed it on the doona and crossed the room to sit beside Khaden.
‘Khaden, that story about gastro and hitting your head on the toilet seat, was that—’
‘Dad?’ Khaden finished her question. He took a deep breath and told her about the smashed window and how he’d spent the night at the park in the tram.
Sas shook her head. ‘You should have come here.’
‘I did, but the lights were out.’
‘It wouldn’t have mattered.’ Sas reached out and let her fingers brush his.
Khaden swallowed her hand in his and squeezed. ‘And tonight, well, we had dinner at Neri’s, you know, our neighbours? Mrs Neri does the best lasagna ever.’
Sas smiled.
‘After dinner, Taj and Joey went to see a band. I helped Mrs Neri with the dishes and Mr Neri asked Dad to look at his Commodore. They hadn’t been gone long when Dad stormed back inside. Mrs Neri tried to calm him down, but Dad was beyond it.’
Khaden swallowed and shifted his grip on Sas’s hand.
‘We went home and…’ Khaden shrugged. Images like photographs flash through his memory. Mike’s twisted mouth. His fist, which seemed larger than Khaden’s face. The explosions of black, gold stars and red. Falling. The fluff under the sofa. A discarded cassette, its tape unspooled and twisted, beside the fluff. A shudder skidded down his spine. ‘Dad went mental.’
‘Milo and Tim Tams,’ said Lou, carrying a tray into the room.
Sas
It’s after midnight. There’s too much crap swirling around my brain for me to sleep. I’m so desperate to clear it, I even tried to call Dad. Twice. Wonder if he’ll notice the missed calls on his mobile? I guess not. I hung up before any connected.
Why can’t everything be like it used to be between us? When I had a problem I talked to Dad about it, but now, because Dad can’t be honest with me, I have to work stuff out on my own, and that sucks.
I knew when I read Khaden’s texts that something was up. I had this whole speech worked out to con Mum into letting him come over so late, but I didn’t need it. She was in the office working—chatting to the mystery red-arm-hair man—and said yes before I’d finished ask
ing.
A minute after I messaged him to say it was okay to come over, Khaden knocked on the door. Even if he’d run the whole way, it should have taken him longer than that to reach my place.
When I opened the door, I didn’t know what to do. His face was a mess and he looked so sad. I’d have hugged him, but I was frightened he’d break into tiny pieces. I knew his dad had done it before I asked. How does a father do that to a kid? Even though I’m mad at Dad and trying to drive him nuts, I know he’d never hit me. Ever.
Mum appeared and next thing she had me running around like a slave, gathering stuff for Khaden. For the first time, I was happy to be bossed around.
I just about lost it when I saw Khaden crying and Mum rubbing his back in slow circles like she does when one of us girls are sick or sad. I wanted to say something, do something to make it better, but didn’t know what to say or do. When Mum left to make hot drinks, I sat beside him and listened.
By the time Mum came back with the Milos and Tim Tams, (which proves my theory she does have a secret Tim Tam stash), I was furious with Mike. What was his problem? How could he hurt gentle, kind Khaden?
Funny, I thought I was madder at Dad that I could be at anyone, but now I hate Mike more than I’ve hated anything or anyone in my whole life, even Lee.
Since I came to bed, I’ve been writing in my journal, and thinking. I’ve decided I hate Mike, I’m sad for Khade, and just a tiny bit happy for me. Not that I’m a freak or anything, I’m just happy Khade trusted me enough to come here.
You know what else? And here’s the big shock—I’m grateful to Mum for not being all ditzy and for just getting on with it and looking after Khaden.
And the last thing—after tonight, I’ve decided that the thing with Dad wasn’t so bad after all, not that I’m about to admit that to anyone yet.
Khaden
Khaden spent the day with Sas, listening to music and mucking around on the computer. He didn’t leave until her sisters came home from school.
As he peeked past the tree and saw his empty driveway, a weight lifted from his body. Inside, the lounge room was still a mess. It took Khaden ages to straighten the over-turned furniture, pick up the pieces of the broken mug and plate, and clean the bloodstains from the carpet. Once he’d finished, he checked Taj’s room and knew straight away that Taj hadn’t been home since yesterday either.
When Mike arrived home later that night, he avoided Khaden, and Khaden avoided him. Taj didn’t come home again.
The next morning, Khaden waited in bed until he heard Mike’s ute roar to life, then leapt out of bed and into the shower, eager to head back to the junction to complete his plan.
At the junction, sunshine beating on his back, Khaden pressed his face against the shop window. A tram bell rang and traffic whizzed by, but he didn’t notice. He scanned the display for the ring Sas had fallen in love with last time they were here. She’d noticed it when they were walking to the tram stop and had tried it on, just for fun. Khaden could tell by the way her eyes gleamed and by the way she held her hand that she loved it.
But today, nothing in the window looked familiar. He took a deep breath and walked through the door. The small shop made him feel awkward.
A woman about the same age as Lou smiled at him. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m looking for a ring, a silver one. It’s chunky and kind of curls. My … friend tried it on a couple of days ago.’
The woman smiled. ‘Think I know the one. It’s handmade.
Khaden’s heart sank. It’d be worth heaps. The eighty dollars curled in his pocket felt too light.
The woman took a key from behind the counter and unlocked the glass door. ‘From your description, I’d say it’s one of these.’
‘That one,’ he said, pointing.
The woman lifted the ring from the glass shelf and handed it to Khaden. The light danced across the thick loop.
‘Is it the one from the window? It’s just Sas tried it on, and I know that one was a perfect fit.’
‘That’s the one. I did the window myself, this morning. It’s sixty-eight dollars.’
Khaden swallowed and reached into his pocket.
‘What about for cash?’
‘Sixty?’
He smiled. That left him with twenty bucks to buy something for Lou. ‘I’ll take it, thanks. Could you wrap it please?’
Ruby
I was up before Mum, Dad and Archie left, again, and had showered, cleaned the rest of the windows and hung out more washing before Harrison surfaced for breakfast. His hour in the bathroom slowed me down in a big way.
Once he’d left for the supermarket, I turned on my iPod and went to work on the bathroom. I was scrubbing up a storm, singing Michael Jackson’s Black and White, when someone patted my back. My scream bounced off the tiles, mingling with Sas and Khaden’s laughter.
Last night I’d decided I was being too sensitive, that Khaden and Sas didn’t leave me out or laugh at me, that they were my friends, my best friends. Determined to keep hold of these thoughts, I took out my earbuds, turned off my iPod and smiled. ‘You just about scared me to death.’
‘We did knock,’ said Khaden, when he’d caught his breath.
‘And we called out.’ Sas wiped her eyes. ‘We couldn’t figure out if you were singing or being murdered.’
‘Michael Jackson would call it murder, if he were still alive.’ Khaden sat on the closed toilet seat.
My shoulders tensed. Friends. Don’t be oversensitive, I reminded myself. ‘Should hear me do Blame it on the Boogie.’
Khaden sniffed the air. ‘What’s the smell?’
I nodded at the bucket beside me. ‘Vinegar.’
‘Ever heard of bathroom cleaner?’ he asked.
‘Don’t you listen?’ Sas giggled. ‘It wrecks the environment.’
The rubber gloves snapped as I pulled them off. ‘So, do you want a drink or something?’ I gasped. ‘Khaden, your face…’
He glanced at Sas then at the bathroom floor.
‘Brothers, hey?’ said Sas. ‘Taj and Khaden were mucking around, you know wrestling. Bet Archie and Harrison do it all the time.’
‘I guess.’ Sure, they wrestled, but they never ended up bruised and bloodied. ‘How bad is Taj?’ I meant it as a joke, but Khaden didn’t look up.
‘So, let’s go do something,’ said Sas, clapping her hands.
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. Hang out.’
‘I guess.’
‘Ruby, such enthusiasm. Come on, get excited. We’re on holidays.’
‘Holidays?’ I trudged up the hall to the laundry, followed by Sas and Khaden. ‘Slave-days more like it.’
‘Exactly why we need to do something fun. And I promise we’ll be back by “three-twenty-five exactly”.’ Sas imitated her mum. ‘Have to walk the girls home.’
I dumped the rags in the washing machine and poured the water down the sink. It swirled grey and murky against the white trough. I brushed past Sas and Khaden and into the kitchen.
‘I guess.’
‘You guess, again?’ said Sas, rolling her eyes. ‘What else are we going to do?’
‘We could stay here and play computer games,’ said Khaden, his smile sheepish. ‘Or watch Stuart’s DVDs.’
‘He’d kill me,’ I squeaked.
Sas’s face lit up. ‘I know what we—’
‘No!’ said Khaden, raising both hands in the air.
‘No what?’ said Sas.
‘No more shopping,’ groaned Khaden. ‘I’m over it.’
I shook my head. ‘Buying stuff for Sas’s room is not shopping.’
‘Let’s do lunch,’ said Sas. ‘Somewhere cool.’
‘I’m broke,’ said Khaden.
‘Have you blown your first pay already?’ I said.
Sas interrupted me. ‘Let’s just go, okay?’
‘Just have to grab my stuff and sort out the phones. I’m grounded, remember?’ As I diverted the phone to my mobil
e, a look passed between Sas and Khaden. I pushed away the paranoid thoughts threatening to bloom and smiled. ‘So, where to?’
‘Tram stop,’ said Sas, reaching for the doorknob. A shard of sunlight caught my eye. Sas was wearing a thick, silver ring I hadn’t seen before. A shard of a different kind stabbed me.
It wasn’t unusual for Sas to wear earrings, bracelets and all kinds of weird necklaces, but she’d always said she hated rings, that they felt strange, yet here she was wearing a ring I hadn’t seen or heard about.
‘Ruby? You coming?’ Sas was standing on the decking with Khaden, who held the door open for me.
‘Nice ring, Sas,’ I said as I locked up.
Sas held out her hand. ‘Don’t you love it?’ She smiled at Khaden.
I held her hand to inspect it. The ring wrapped around her finger, tapering from thick and rounded at one end, to thin and pointed at the other.
‘Where’d you get it?’
‘Let’s go,’ Sas skipped down the steps and out the gate, ignoring my question.
I followed Khaden, my head a swirling storm of words that moved too fast for me to sort through.
‘Hey Ruby, the gate didn’t snib,’ said Khaden.
‘Stupid thing,’ I muttered, jogging back. ‘I’ve asked Dad to fix it a thousand times. Mojo has no road sense.’ I jiggled the gate to make sure it was shut.
We ended up at Chapel Street, traipsing in and out of exclusive shops I’d normally walk straight past. When we reached Toorak Road, Khaden took off to check out music shops while Sas and I did the other side of the street. She was more like her old self, and had me laughing and trying on all kinds of clothes—short dresses, high-heeled shoes and crazy shorts. The shop assistants glared at us as though we were trailing mud, or worse, through their oh-so-important stores.
In a shop with white floors, walls and shelves, a girl with orange fake tan and about twenty silver bracelets on each wrist shadowed us. She nodded at the floaty dress I was about to try on. ‘Clearly, you can’t afford anything in my boutique. It’s probably best if you just leave.’
‘How do you know what we can and can’t afford?’ Sas pulled her mum’s gold credit card from her purse and flashed it in front of the shop assistant’s face.
The smug expression slipped away. ‘I didn’t mean … It’s just…’ she stammered.
