Tears of the Broken (23 page)

My
heart dropped into my stomach—dragging another carefully buried
memory from my closet of horrors and slapping me in the face with
it. I let out a breath. “On the ride home from the funeral. He said
my bags were all packed, and I demanded, if he was going to steal
me from the only home I’ve ever known that he take me back
there—just once, to get my own things.” I pictured the grey day,
the cold wind and the rain making waterfalls over the windscreen as
we pulled up outside my house. The lights were all out and the
remainder of the daylight was fighting against the thunderclouds
for right of existence in my world. I took each shaky step up to
the porch with a kind of stillness that had my dad lingering
closely behind me. “It hadn’t really hit me that they were gone—” I
said. “Not until I touched the cold, brass doorknob and pushed the
door open. For a second, I waited, expecting, truly believing I’d
see Harry crawl up to me at full speed with his little train in his
hand.

“
Everything looked the same, and it
smelled
like home, but
it was cold, empty—and so very quiet—like they weren’t there
anymore. I couldn’t
feel
them there anymore.

“
The
dishes were still in the sink from Mum’s coffee, and the clock on
the wall was still ticking—that much stayed the same. It felt
strange, how, even though they weren’t there, time just kept
ticking without us. It seemed like it should’ve stopped, but it
didn’t. That’s when I fell down. It hit me so hard. I just broke
apart and cried in the doorway.

“
Dad
didn’t know what to do. He ran next door to get Mrs. Baker. She
made me get up. She made me pack my things. They gave me enough
time to grab one box of pictures and a few of my favourite clothes
before Dad dragged me away to a motel to stay until I got the
all-clear from the doctors.” I pictured the dark shadows in the
hallway near my room, how the absence of that warm summer sun meant
the death of everything I loved.

“
I
wanted to bring Pappy with me…” I burst into tears again, “Harry’s
monkey toy. But Dad blocked the door to Harry’s room—he wouldn’t
let me go in there. I never got to say goodbye. We never even went
back to their graves.”

“
He
was just doing what he thought was best, Ara.” David choked back
tears.

“
I
know.” I nodded. “But he was wrong. They all think they know what I
need—but they don’t.”

“
What
do
you need, sweetheart?” David asked carefully.
“Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

“
I need to die, David. I need to go back—to
that night—I need to put down that
goddamn
phone and…” my words broke
away.

“
Ara?” David grabbed my cheeks and shook me softly, but
fiercely, bringing his nose to the tip of mine. “What do you think
your mother would feel to hear you say that? Why would you want to
die?”

“
Because that’s just it, David. She wouldn’t
feel anything to hear me say that—because she’s dead!” I yelled.
“Dead, and I
killed
her…” Ragged sobs lifted my chest. “I killed
her.”

“
Ara—”

“
No.
Don’t you see? I called her. I made her come and get me. Now
they’re gone and it’s only me—and my guilt.”

David’s eyes glistened. He breathed out and tightened his
arms around me. “Does—” he started slowly, cautiously, “does your
dad know you blame yourself?”

I
shook my head. “I don’t think he could ever forgive me. I never
told him that I
called
her. I never told him that I was the reason she was there.
You won’t tell him, will you?” I looked up at him and clutched his
shirt. “Oh, David, please don’t tell him. I’ll never be able to
face him again.”

David sat quietly. “What about your best friend,
Mike?”

“
He
knows—everything.” I looked down at my hands in my lap. “Don’t
worry, he tried to convince me that it wasn’t my fault. People will
say anything to avoid watching someone be eaten up by
guilt.”

“
I
don’t understand why you blame yourself.”

“
Because it was a senseless death, David.
One that could’ve been avoided. Wrong place, wrong time is what the
cop said. And
that
is my fault.”

“
That still doesn’t make it your fault.” He looked down at me.
“It was the other driver who veered off the road.”

I
shook my head. Damn it, David. “No. If he’d had nothing to hit when
his car landed there—”

“
He
would have run into the house on the corner,” he said each word
with a short pause between the next, “and killed the three-year-old
twins in the front bedroom.”

My
brow creased tightly in the middle. “How did you know
that?”

David stiffened and stared ahead with his mouth hanging open
a little, like he was about to say something. I retraced my story
in my head. I
never
said that. “David?” I sat back so I could look right into his
eyes. “Tell me how you knew that?”

He
winced and turned his head away, scratching at the back of his
neck. “I kind of…already knew…about…all of it.”

“
What?” I jumped back. How did he know? How could he? Why
would he let me recount all of this—dredge up all of this carefully
buried pain if he already knew?

“
You
needed to get it out, Ara. You needed to talk to
someone.”

“
Who
else knows?” I yelled.

David looked at my watering eyes and wiped his thumb over a
line of tears on my cheek. “No one knows, Ara. I wouldn’t do that
to you.”

“
Who
told you?” I wish I could scream. I feel so betrayed. But there can
only be one person who knows about my mum, and he made me a promise
that he wouldn’t tell anyone.

“
I…I
asked your dad.” David looked at the ground.

“
When? Why?”

“
Ara, calm down, it’s okay.” David pulled me tighter into his
chest; I pushed away from him as hard as I could. He’s strong, but
he let me go.

“
You
betrayed me.” I jumped to my feet to get as much distance from him
as possible.

“
No—Ara?”

“
You
lied
to me. All this time. All this time, you knew.
You knew what I’d done, and you pretended to be my
friend?”

“
Pretend? Ara?” David stood up.

“
What would possibly make you want to do that, David?” I
looked up at him, grabbing a fistful of my own hair while warm
tears rained down my cheeks. “When did he tell you—how long have
you known?”

“
Please, just—”

“
When!” My scream echoed off the lake and came back to haunt
me with its severity.

He
walked slowly toward me, his hand extended as if negotiating with a
hostile mental patient. “When you first came here. He caught me
during football practice—watching you on the swing,
and—”

I
backed away one step at a time in unison with his.
“You…were…
watching
me?” Each word ejected from my lips infused with disgust. An
eerie sensation travelled over my neck and spine, like a hand just
touched my shoulder in a room that was
supposed
to be empty.

“
Ara, I—” David stopped walking, and his green eyes flooded
with agony as he lowered his arms. “I know how this sounds. But it
wasn’t like that. I swear. Just, please. Listen to me.”

I
laughed, though it wasn’t out of amusement. “All this time—you’ve
known about me. Even when we talked in the library. You pretended
you didn’t know anything about me. Well,” I shook my head
derisively, “I guess it makes sense now why you were so…” Eager? Is
that it? What is it with him? Does he enjoy the company of messed
up young girls? Perhaps it’s a complex of his—Knight Syndrome. I
feel like such an idiot. I turned and marched off. I need to vent
my anger—away from anyone that could get hurt.

“
Ara?” David’s footsteps picked up behind me.

“
David, just leave me alone. Don’t follow me!” I called out
coarsely.

To
my regret, he stayed put. It’s probably for the best. We’re not
friends anymore and I don’t want to hear any pathetic excuses for
his deceit.

The
forest showed me down an alternative path to the one we came in on.
I don’t really know where I’m gonna go. I can’t go back to the car
since that would mean driving back into town with
him
, the conspirator,
the liar—whatever he is to me now. So, I veered off the track and
headed west—hopefully toward town.

A
month. I arrived here a month ago? Has he known about me for that
long? I wandered through the trees, following a faded trail with
long billowing grass growing between old tyre tracks. What a jerk!
Why didn’t he just tell me he knew? What did he hope to accomplish
by making me cry like that? Does he enjoy it—does he get off on
grief?

Er!
I feel sick.

My
trek of rage drove me forward quickly. I scaled the slopes of the
forest faster than I should—submerging myself into an eerie
surrounding, with the once background sound of the birds and the
leaves rustling in the wind, now, unnervingly loud.

It’s
weird for me here. After all my years of walking through the bushes
back home, I have no idea how to navigate these green, mushy
forests. This trail, thick with grass and crawling vines, is
clearly not used anymore and therefore, not likely to lead me to a
road or the safety of random hikers.

Real
smart, Ara. Go off the beaten track. I slumped heavily onto a
nearby log and hugged my arms across my body. I’m such an
idiot.

The
gentle breeze stopped, and a cunning silence looped around me,
stealing the tranquillity of the woods. The dancing midges
disappeared from the beams of sunlight and the warmth under the
cool shade subsided rapidly—leaving my arms covered in little
bumps.

Behind me, a heavy thud set my hair on end; my spine
straightened and I looked over my shoulder. “Oscar?”

Oscar
? I burst out laughing, folding
over as I clutched my stomach. How stupid am I? Oscar can’t be
here. He was a thud, for real, but I’m pretty sure giant Red
Kangaroos aren’t native to these parts.

That
memory will stay with my best friend, Mike; how we used to take
long walks through the national park just outside his house. A
quick hop over the fence and down a steep hill of rocks, and we
were far away from civilisation.

The
first day I met the thud, it scared me so much I was about to run
in the opposite direction, but Mike grabbed my arm and held me in
place. Very slowly and very cautiously the thud showed itself. Mike
just smiled and said, “G’day, Oscar.”

He
was magnificent, Oscar—nearly as tall as me, with round black eyes;
eyes that seemed to stare at me with a kind of unnerving
intelligence behind them. It isn’t commonplace to see them hopping
around, and I knew they could become hostile when they get
frightened. But Mike was comfortable in Oscar’s company. When Oscar
bounded away, I let my breath out with a laugh and thanked Mike for
making me stay put.

I
can’t believe I’ll never see Oscar again.

My
mind snapped back to the harsh reality of the now, with the
reaching trees towering over me, clouding out all warmth, and the
eerie solitude creeping under my skin. There’re no gum trees here,
no soft, light smell of eucalyptus when it rains, and certainly no
kookaburra to warn me of approaching…animals.

Wow,
this place is kinda scary all of a sudden. I hope there aren’t any
bears or lions or…tigers. I mean, anything’s possible. I’m not in
Oz anymore.

I
kicked a ladybug off my shoe and looked back up the slope I just
walked down. It was a mistake storming off like that. I know better
than to traipse into a forest—alone.

There’s no denying it. I’m lost and I feel really bad for
yelling at David, too. He has a good heart. I was unfair to him. Is
it
so
bad that
he’d been curious about me? That he asked my dad about
me?

Not
really, but it means that all of this time, while he led me around
the school and talked to me about little things like music and
books—that he knew. He knew, and he pretended he didn’t. How can I
get over that kind of betrayal?

I
should go back and find David—talk to him about this. I stood up
and took one step up the hill—falling instead, into the warm
embrace of strong, firm arms. “Ara!” He just appeared out of
nowhere; his eyes alert and his brow creased in the
centre.

He’s
been worried. He must’ve figured I’d get lost. Now I feel worse.
“David?” My arms dropped to my sides as I stepped back from him. I
want to say sorry. But how can I? I don’t deserve the right to use
those words. I’ve been a monster to him.

“
You silly girl!” He wrapped me almost
restrictively in his arms, with his fingertips pressing against my
ribs. “Don’t
ever
run off like that again. I couldn’t find you. I was worried
sick.”