by Dick, Amanda
The world turns, but I don’t see it. I don’t see anything anymore, except the emptiness inside me. It’s gone. It’s all gone, and it doesn’t matter what Luke says or does, I know. I hear the desperation in his voice but I’m too far gone to react to it. I’m too far gone to react to anything. I don’t think I’ll make it back this time. I’m not sure I want to anymore. There doesn’t seem to be much point.
I can’t eat because my stomach is constantly churning. I won’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I see flames. Flames with faces I recognise.
Day turns into night.
I can’t stop shaking. I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again. I’m swimming in misery and I don’t want to get out of the water. I want it to dissolve me, pull me under and keep me there. I imagine I’m in the water, swimming out beyond the jetty, where the lake-weed grows. I swim and I swim, but I go nowhere.
Night turns into day.
Sounds.
Silence.
Light.
Darkness.
I don’t know how long it’s been since the fire. It could’ve been yesterday or weeks ago. Time has unhinged again, the numbers mean nothing. Doctor’s appointments. Pills, washed down with water. Lots of talking at me. I don’t care anymore. No one understands. James and Kieran were real, now they’re gone. Everything’s gone. I said goodbye to them. I forced them out of my life before they wanted to go.
That’s what the fire was, that’s what it meant. That was the sign.
I took my candle to the lake with the boat, and I lit it. I pushed it out into the water and I said goodbye to them. I lit a candle for them, so they lit the cottage for me. An eye for an eye, a flame for a flame.
Day turns into night.
Luke curls up behind me on the bed, holding me close. I barely feel him. The fire plays through my mind on an endless loop, James’s face hovers in front of my eyes. I wish it would stop.
Night falls, the grey sucks all of the light out of the room and I’m glad. The darkness suits me better.
More pills, washed down with more water. Daylight, night-time, it’s all the same to me.
One night, I wake up from a nightmare that feels so real, I begin to wonder if I’ve finally tipped over the edge into madness. By the time I realise it was just a dream, the sun is up. I wish Luke would just hold me in his arms again and make it all go away, but he’s not here. I’m not angry at him anymore. I don’t hate him. I miss him. I need him.
In a daze, still going over the details of the nightmare and trying to make sense of it, I decide to have a shower. I’d prefer a bath, but there is no bath in Ana’s house.
Where’s Luke? He wasn’t there when I woke up, not in my bed, not on the floor. Geezer isn’t here, either. Maybe they went for a walk. My head feels so heavy, I can barely lift it. I sit in the shower, my head between my knees, as the water washes over me. I can’t remember the last time I had a shower, but I remember swimming with Luke.
Where’s Luke? I wish he’d make all of this go away. I wish he’d hold me and smooth my hair down and whisper words that would make sense. Nothing seems to make sense anymore. I just want to get out of here. I want to sit with him beside the fire, and stare at the embers with him. I want to lie beside him under the stars.
Dragging myself out of the shower, I towel off and put on some clothes I found at the end of my bed. They’re not mine, they’re Ana’s. Mine are gone. Everything is gone.
Where’s Luke?
After I get changed, I walk out into the living room to find Ana sitting with a cup of coffee at the small, round dining room table jammed into the corner of the room.
“Morning,” she says, trying to hide the surprise on her face. “Coffee?”
I nod, and she gets up to make me one without another word. I sink down into the couch, still bleary-eyed and feeling like I have one foot in this world and one foot somewhere else.
“Where’s Luke?” I ask.
She comes back into the room still holding her coffee mug, a strange look on her face.
“He left, babe.”
“When?”
“About two weeks ago,” she says quietly.
I stare at her. Why don’t I remember that? Two weeks? Two whole weeks?
“It’s okay,” she says, coming to sit down beside me on the couch. “It’s been a rough month, I know.”
“Month?”
“It’s been over a month since the fire.”
More memories gone. More time lost. I feel sick.
She puts her arm around me, pulling me close, and I want to cry but I can’t. No tears will come. Instead, I feel hollow. Luke’s not here. I don’t feel here, either. I want to be where he is. I need him.
“He wanted to stay, but you were so… he thought maybe leaving was a better idea. He was worried that he was part of the problem, that he was making things worse by being here, confusing you.”
I shook my head, feeling the same utter helplessness I felt that night, sitting with him on the jetty, watching my home burn to the ground.
“He’s been calling me every day since he left, checking up on you. He even left something for you, and he told me to give it to you when you were feeling better. I didn’t really think you were up to opening it before now, but you seem different today. Maybe it’s a good day to do this. Do you want me to get it?”
I can’t reply. I can barely take all this in. Two weeks. Two weeks? I do some quick calculations in my head. If it’s been a month since the fire, he stayed with me for two weeks after it. How could that be? It feels like minutes, hours at the most.
“Where have I been?” I say, almost to myself.
“Good question,” Ana says. “Here, but not here. It was like the accident all over again. Even Chris has been up to see you. Do you remember?”
I shake my head, my stomach churning. I don’t remember any of it and that’s what scares me the most.
“The insurance company paid out,” she says, squeezing my shoulder. “The money’s in your bank account, when you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“I don’t know. To start again, I suppose.”
I already know that starting again is not an option, not for me. I can’t. I physically can’t do it.
“Hang on,” she says, getting up and walking through to her bedroom.
All I can do is watch her. What happened to me? Weeks have gone by. Luke isn’t here. Chris has been and gone. Where was I, through all of that? I’m scared. The fear rears up like a waking serpent, the same fear I’ve been feeling for a long time now.
I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I’m fading into oblivion.
By the time she comes out of the bedroom and hands me a small white envelope the size of a phone bill, I’m already spiralling into despair. Reluctantly, I take the envelope off her, and as soon as I do, I can feel that there are more than just words inside. There is also something small and solid.
Slowly, I peel open the envelope with my name on the front, in the same writing that was on the little rolled up piece of paper in an empty plastic Coke bottle in Geezer’s mouth. That night feels like a lifetime ago now.
I pull out the object first. It’s a compass, compact, brass, and working, judging by the way the arrow inside swings this way and that as I move it. It looks old, maybe even antique. It’s slightly battered, but also beautiful.
“Wow,” Ana says quietly, peering at it. “Is there an inscription on the back? I think I saw words there.”
I turn it over, and she’s right. It’s inscribed in tiny, block print.
For Luke, so you can find your way home.
Love, Sara x
The memory of Luke’s sister and all she’s been through makes its way up through countless others to the surface of my mind. She gave this to him? I stare at it, at the arrow within the casing. I can almost feel the love, the power, the hope. I swallow down the lump in my throat and hand the compass to Ana. I’m not worthy to hold something so precious.
Trembling, I open the single piece of white paper to see more of Luke’s handwriting. It’s not dated. I wonder if he knew how anxious it would make me to see a date on it. Or maybe he just didn’t think it needed one.
Dear Sian,
Please don’t think I left because I wanted to. I didn’t – it was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had to. I was trying so hard to be there for you but I wasn’t helping. I could see that me being there was just confusing you, making it worse, and that’s the last thing I wanted. You need time to come to terms with this, alone.
I’m leaving this with Ana. She’ll know when the right time comes, when you can face this. In the meantime, I’ll wait.
Sara gave me this when I left for my first deployment and I’ve carried it with me every day since. It’s a talisman, a lucky charm. We soldiers are a superstitious lot. I believe it kept me safe, and now I want it to keep you safe.
I don’t need it anymore. I’ve found my way home. It’s half a world away from where I was born, on the other side of a lake, in the shadow of satellites and shooting stars, with a German Shepherd and the woman I love.
I hope you can use it to find your way back to us. I really hope so, Sian. I miss you. I love you, and I’ll wait for you, however long it takes. I’ll be here.
Luke
I can barely read the last part, my eyes are filling up with all the tears I’ve been holding back since the fire. I think that I was afraid I was going to fall apart if I let them come, but now that they’re here, I know I was fooling myself. I’d already fallen apart. The tears had nothing to do with that.
Ana takes the letter out of my hand gently, and reads it without asking. When she looks up at me, she has tears in her eyes, too.
“Oh, babe,” she says, sniffing.
She hands me back the letter and the compass, and I sit there, holding onto both, staring at them through the tears that continue to come. I pushed him away. I should never have done that. All he wanted was to help, and I let my own selfish pain get in the way. I let myself drown when I should have taken his hand.
“You need to see him,” she whispers, nodding and wiping away her own tears at the same time. “You need to talk to him. I’ll take you to him.”
She stands up, pulling me up with her, but I’m not sure I’m ready to see him yet. My head is swimming.
“I… I’m not, I can’t –”
She squeezes my hand and I look up at her. She’s determined, that steely look in her eye telling me she isn’t going to argue about this.
“Look, you’ve been out of it for a while, so I’m going to pretend that you’re still a bit fuzzy around the edges,” she says firmly, sniffing back more tears. “I’m going to make this decision for you, seeing as you’re not really capable of making it for yourself. You need to see him. You do. And that’s where we’re going, right now. Get your shoes.”
Chapter 30
As if I wasn’t anxious enough, the car ride out to the lake has me right on the edge, staring into the abyss. I beg Ana to slow down a dozen times, but she doesn’t listen. She’s on a mission, but I don’t care if it takes us hours to get there, rather than thirty minutes. I need that time to get my head in the game. I have no idea what I’m going to say to Luke, but I don’t let go of the compass the entire time.
It isn’t until we get to the lake that I realise we have no way of contacting Luke and no way of getting across the lake without a boat. Ana isn’t fazed, though. She instructs me to wait while she disappears into the café. I use the time to try and calm my nerves. When she finally reappears, brandishing a set of keys like a lunatic, I’m almost afraid to ask.
“Aussie John,” she grins, still slightly breathless. “He knows Luke and he’s leant us his boat. I left him my car keys as a goodwill gesture. Come on!”
“Who’s Aussie John?”
“Come on!” she says impatiently, practically pulling me out of the car. “Never mind that – and wave to the nice man!”
I turn to look and sure enough, there’s a guy in his fifties who looks remarkably like a man-mountain, standing on the back deck of the café, smiling at us. We both wave, then make our way down to the jetty and the only boat moored there. It’s old, really old, and more than a little weather-beaten. I hope like hell it’s watertight.
“He lives over the other side,” she says, untying the boat and throwing the rope in.
“Who does?”
“Aussie John! He looks like a biker, but he’s got the softest of hearts. He’s a sucker for a love story, so he says. As soon as I told him why we needed a boat, he was practically in tears.”
I struggle to associate the huge guy waving us goodbye with a romantic heart, but I believe her. I’d seen her do some amazing things in the time I’d known her. She could talk her way into – or out of – anything. If it wasn’t for her smooth-talking, I don’t think James and his friend would ever have come over to our table that night.
I sit in the unfamiliar boat and think about that as she guns the engine and launches us towards Luke’s place at lightning speed. One thing keeps going round and round in my head, and that’s the journey that both Luke and I had taken over the past ten years. Him in the army, then travelling the world. Me staying at home, having a family. Both of us ending up at the same place, at the same time – twice. Once in Christchurch two years ago, once here a few months ago. What are the odds of that?
Suddenly, the signs had never been clearer. Regardless, my heart races. What should I say to him? Do I have the courage to take his hand?
I hold the compass even tighter, hoping that some of Sara’s strength will suffuse into me. I love the way it fits into the palm of my hand so snugly. It’s almost as if it was meant to be.
For the first time since the fire, hope fights its way to the surface.
Yet, the closer we get to Luke’s place, the more nervous I am. Ana and I don’t try to talk over the sound of the engine, and for that I’m grateful. As we round the bay, I see two things simultaneously.
One is Luke’s cottage. The other is the burnt-out shell of my former home.
It’s heart-breaking, and I drag my eyes away from it with all the willpower I can muster. That part of my life is over. I know that now. It hurts, and it will always hurt, and I think maybe that’s the way it’s meant to be. It’s a yin and yang thing, the cosmic balancing act applied by the universe, completely out of my control. The only thing I can control is my reaction to it. I have to allow myself to feel the pain without being sucked under by it. I have to try not to be so scared of feeling.
Luke is standing in front of his cottage, watching us. I can’t see the expression on his face from this far out, but I can tell by his body language that he wasn’t expecting us. He’s wary. His hands are hanging loosely by his sides, his feet spread shoulder-width apart, as if he’s readying himself for battle. I know the feeling because I am too, only my battle is with myself.
As we near the jetty, I ignore the wasteland on the other side of the trees that separate our properties, concentrating instead on Luke. He walks forward slowly, now recognising that it’s us. His expression is set somewhere between tentative hope and resignation.
Ana cuts the engine and we coast into the jetty in the sudden silence. The air feels like it’s buzzing with more than just the sound of cicadas or water lapping the side of the boat. I can’t take my eyes off him, but he doesn’t come forward. It takes a moment or two, but I realise that he’s waiting for me to come to him. He’s made his move, now it’s up to me. I have to show him I’m ready.
“Go,” Ana says quietly, reading my mind. “I’ll wait here.”
I feel like I’m moving in slow motion, as I climb out of the boat and scramble onto the jetty on my hands and knees. I feel like a newborn, using limbs that I’m just not used to yet. It’s like it was in the hospital, slow and laborious. Eventually I find my feet, breathless, my heart racing. I’m on the cusp of something new and frightening, and I feel it through every
cell in my body. I fight the change, even though my heart aches for it. It’s habit, self-preservation.
I walk the few metres towards Luke in a daze. Everything around us disappears, and I focus on his face, on those blue eyes staring out at me from a face that I once thought was a cliché. How wrong I was! He’s not a cliché. He’s far from it. He’s my saviour. He’s the reason I’m here.
The thought hits me with such force that I stop dead. His expression doesn’t change, but I can see the anxiety in his eyes magnify. It feels like he’s speaking to me, urging me forward, even though he doesn’t open his mouth.
With barely a metre between us, we can reach out and touch each other, but we don’t. I hold out my hand and open it, exposing the small compass nestled in my palm. He glances down at my hand, then his eyes are locked onto mine again.
“It works,” I whisper. “I found you.”
Then I’m in his arms, or he’s in mine, I’m not sure. He lifts me off my feet and I can feel our hearts beating in unison through our clothes. I’m floating, flying, soaring, and he’s right there with me. His lips are on mine and I’m holding him so tight, afraid he’s going to disappear again.
For a fleeting moment, I wonder what we look like from above. I wonder if the satellites can see us.
Chapter 31
Ana makes a sly departure, leaving us alone on the jetty. I barely register the fact that she’s gone. Luke holds me so tight, I wonder if he’s as afraid as I am that this moment is somehow not happening, and that it will be over before we’re ready for it to end. I hold him even tighter, just in case.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he mumbles into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. “This past month has been the longest goddamn month of my life.”
He sounds so vulnerable, so scared, my fragile heart can barely stand it.
