by D C Grant
Chapter Five
Josh stood at his bedroom window looking out at the urban landscape before him. He absently rubbed his chest. It was almost six weeks since Bevan had beaten him up and the cracked rib, although healed, still ached from time to time. He looked down at the drive where his mother and sister waited in the car. The huge real estate sign on their verge proclaimed ‘Mortgagee Sale’ and announced to the world the failure his father had become. He hated that sign.
Behind him his room was devoid of personal possessions, and only his furniture remained. It was like he’d been wiped out of existence and this was just a boy’s room – any boy’s room. The rest of the house had been given the same treatment, all at the advice of the real estate agent. He said that houses sold better if prospective families could see themselves living there and this was best achieved if their own possessions were removed. Even though the house was going to auction, and they wouldn’t benefit from the money raised, his father had insisted they do as the real estate agent told them because they needed everything they could get.
What hadn’t been repossessed or gone into storage was down at Piha and now they were joining their possessions there, taking up residence for the holidays as they’d done for many years. But this time it was different. When they came back in the New Year, it would probably be to pack it up for good.
He remembered when his father had first brought him to the empty section when he was seven years old and had lifted him up so that he could see the view.
“This is what it’ll look like from your room, Josh,” his father had said.
He’d been right, although the view from the upstairs bedroom of the completed house had been much better than the one seen from his father’s shoulders. From his window he had watched the other houses being built around them, and the green paddocks had disappeared until all that was left were the ‘extensive urban views’ the sign advertised.
“Josh, come on, it’s time to go,” his father called from below.
Josh frowned at the sound of his father’s voice. He hated him for all that had happened since the day he had made his announcement about the business. Nothing had been the same.
“Josh, hurry up,” his father shouted.
Wiping away the wetness from his cheeks, Josh turned away from the window. He’d sworn that he wouldn’t cry and yet he couldn’t stop the tears. Picking his skateboard up from off the floor, he tucked it against his hip, left his room and walked slowly down the stairs. The house felt different, as if it was not their house at all, like they’d already left, which, he suspected, in their minds, they had.
His father waited in the hallway. “Come on, Josh. Why are you dragging it out? I thought you’d be in a rush to get down to Piha.”
Josh walked past his father without saying anything. It was true, he usually couldn’t wait to get down to the bach, but it was difficult to be enthusiastic when their future was so uncertain. He walked out to his mother’s car, their only car since his father’s leased vehicle had been taken back, and sat in the back seat next to Cyndi. When they pulled out of the driveway Josh whispered, “Goodbye house,” under his breath.
He didn’t say it quietly enough for Cyndi called, “Josh is saying goodbye to the house. That’s silly. Houses don’t have ears.”
“Hush, Cyndi,” his mother said from the front passenger seat and Josh could tell from the strain in her voice that she was upset too.
To block it out, Josh pushed the iPod’s earbuds into his ears and pressed ‘play’. He folded his arms across his chest as hard rock music filled his ears, and settled himself in his seat for the journey.
Civilization dropped away behind them as they drove through the Waitakere Ranges, surrounded by regenerated forest through which Josh could glimpse the western horizon. A right-hand turn and Piha was before them. As they drove past the lookout at the top of Piha Road, he looked down at Lion Rock, standing proud and strong against the onslaught of the sea. The waves were breaking either side of it in broken white lines. It was a sight that always thrilled him. He had a sense that he was coming home, that this is where he belonged.
His father stepped hard on the brakes as he negotiated the turns in the road on the way down. As they neared the bottom of the hill, Josh could smell the hot metal of overheated brake pads. His father’s foot came off the brake as they drove over the bridge and past the store, before finally taking the sharp right at the Lion’s tail which took them on to Marine Parade. A moment later they pulled off the road into the front lawn of the bach and rolled to a stop.
Josh climbed out of the car, pulled the earbuds from his ears and stretched upwards, loosening muscles cramped by the ride. He could hear the waves crashing on the sand and could smell the salty brine on the air, something he always associated with Piha.
He couldn’t see the beach from the bach because the sand dunes blocked the view. He had only taken a few steps when his father called, “Josh, come on, we need a hand to unload.”
Josh halted. He didn’t want to help. He just wanted to get down to the beach. He hadn’t surfed since the end of last summer and he was itching to get a feel for the water again.
“Josh,” his father repeated sternly.
Josh knew there wouldn’t be any use arguing with his father. The sea would have to wait.
He was about to turn away when a black convertible drove past. Immediately his heart rate quickened and his stomach muscles tightened. Memories of being beaten up overwhelmed him and he shuddered. Even though the bruises on his body had healed, Bevan’s attack had left open wounds on his mind.
He shook his head, annoyed at himself. He couldn’t let Bevan get to him and besides, he didn’t even know if it was his car. With a sigh, Josh turned and walked back.
By the time they’d unloaded the boot, sorted out the boxes that they had brought down to the beach previously and had tea, it was getting dark. He’d worked a half-day at the skateboard shop that morning and he was emotionally and physically exhausted. What’s more he had to work the next day, Christmas Eve, which would be a crazy one at the shop. He was beginning to regret taking on the casual job but he only had that one more day to go and the extra money had been handy.
If he was going to cope with work the next day he needed to get away for a while and unwind. Josh slipped out the back door, walked around the side of the house and crossed the road in front of the bach. The tarmac was warm beneath his bare feet, but the surface of the sand was cool as he climbed to the top of the sand bank. From there he could see the sweep of the beach from Lion Rock at his left to the cliffs of North Piha at his right. The sea was calm and the wind light in his face. The waves couldn’t have been more than a metre or two high, too small to surf. A salty smell lingered in the air and he breathed it in deeply. He walked to where the dunes sloped down to the beach and sat down between the strands of spinifex grass, burying his feet beneath the warm sand and hugging his knees to his chest. The sun was low on the horizon, its rays tingeing the clouds red and orange. He took in a deep breath.
A movement behind him startled him.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” his father said.
Josh didn’t say anything. He resented the intrusion.
His father sat down beside him and swatted at a sandfly on his ankle. He too dug his feet into the sand and said, “Look, I know that this past month hasn’t been easy for you, but–”
“Don’t, Dad,” Josh interrupted him.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t spoil it now.”
“I only wanted to talk to you. You’ve been so … so distant ever since you got beaten up. Your mother and I have been worried about you.”
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
“But we do. Why won’t you tell us or the police who did it?”
“It won’t make any difference.”
“But you can’t let someone put you in hospital and then not do anything about it.”
“Just leave it, Dad, okay?
”
“If that’s what you want.”
Josh didn’t know what he wanted. Right now he wanted things to be the way they were before his father had come home with the news of his bankruptcy. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. He wanted this holiday to be like all their other holidays, but that wasn’t going to happen either. Bevan could be in Piha somewhere and that was the last thing he was going to tell his dad.
“Are we going to be all right, Dad?” he asked. “I mean after the house is sold and everything?”
“I hope so.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I guess I’ll have to find a job.” He picked up a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers. “I haven’t worked for a boss for years. It’s going to be hard for a while.” He brushed the sand from his hands and smiled. “Mind you, it’ll be nice not to have all the worry. I’ll get to spend more time with you.”
“Only if you can surf,” Josh said with a smile.
“Maybe now I’ll have the time to learn.”
“You’re too old.”
“Watch it, young man. I can still show you a thing or two.”
“Like how to lose money.”
As soon as he said it, Josh wished he hadn’t. He watched the smile disappear from his father’s face. He struggled to say something more, something that would take away the words, but it was too late.
His father was silent and after a few seconds he pulled his feet from the sand and walked away.
Josh wanted to run after his father and say sorry, but he felt like he was planted there with his feet in the sand. What could he possibly say to make it right?
“Stupid,” he said to himself. He laid his head on his knees. “My life is so messed up.”
