Welcome To Wherever You Are (37 page)

Tommy’s head was already feeling like candy floss when he pointed towards Joe sleeping on a discarded mattress in an alley dumpster below.

‘I wonder how it all went wrong for him,’ Tommy asked.

‘Have you ever taken the trouble to ask him?’

‘I guess not. I just wondered why he started making such bad choices.’

‘Are any of the choices we make the right ones?’

‘Man, can we have just one conversation without this weird, cryptic shit?’

‘Nope,’ smiled Peyk.

‘You’re never curious why Joe’s life is such a waste?’

‘Who are you to judge him? Just because he hasn’t got what you have doesn’t mean he’s wasted it.’

‘Come on, nobody knows who he is. He’s got no money, no home, no family . . . not even a roof over his head. Nobody deserves that.’

‘But a man can live without all those things. And you have more in common with him than you think.’

‘Please enlighten me, oh wise oracle.’

‘Neither of you has any freedom.’

Tommy frowned. ‘Well that’s bollocks, because I’m not the one scratching around for money, my whole life dedicated to scoring my next fix.’

‘That’s true, but while he has no freedom from his addiction, you’re not free from the limits you set yourself. You’re one of the most uptight, frightened little shits I’ve ever met. You’ve come travelling to escape something – that’s pretty clear to anyone – then you separate from your friend, you end up here and you don’t have the balls to go anywhere else on your own. You hide, safely entrenched in the margins, never in the middle of the page. You’re too scared to embrace freedom . . . you’re like a fish in a bowl in the ocean looking out towards the big picture but always too gutless to make the jump.’

‘Fuck you and your dumb-ass similes,’ snapped Tommy, taken aback by Peyk’s character assassination. ‘Where’s all this coming from? You don’t know the first thing about me.’

‘Tommy-boy!’ continued Peyk, exasperated. ‘I’ve met people like you countless times, and you’re all the same. You’re tourists, not travellers. You design your own problems then you bitch when no one gives you the solution.’

‘No I don’t!’

‘Be honest with yourself, if not me. You have remained here in this hostel because it’s the safest, most convenient option. You’re scared of going home, scared of what to do with your life, scared of what you’re feeling for Jake—’

‘Jake’s a mate,’ interrupted Tommy, sounding less than convincing.

‘He’s more to you than that and you know it. You think he’s found what you’ve been looking for; you think he’s at peace with himself. You think he’s everything you want to be but are too scared to find by yourself so you live vicariously through his anecdotes, hanging on his every word. But he’s not any of those things, Tommy. He’s a man, and men are flawed, some more than others. You can’t live your life through someone like that, you owe yourself more.’

Tommy folded his arms defiantly, his partially stoned mind racing, desperately trying to justify his choices and devising a counter argument, all the time quietly aware Peyk’s words were ringing true.

‘Right here, right now, you can start your life all over again,’ Peyk continued. ‘You can do anything you want to . . . if you want to see the whole of the world, not just this little microcosmos, then go see it for yourself; if you want to experience a relationship with someone of the same sex, then just do it. In the great scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. In the great scheme of things, nothing matters – but you. And the only people who will judge you are the people you shouldn’t give two shits about. I know that people think I’m a joke – the stoner who walks around the hostel falling through ceilings. And you know what? I’m cool with that, I don’t care. I know who I am and I know what makes me, “me”. You don’t – you are made up of everyone you know, those living and those dead. Now you need to find your own path and be someone, not everyone else. Just don’t stand here casting judgment on Joe’s decisions when you are too gutless to make your own.’

Peyk passed Tommy his joint. ‘Finish this off,’ he offered, and left Tommy alone, utterly bewildered.

No matter how many sunsets he’d seen all over the world, the sixty minutes between the day ending and night beginning offered Jake more clarity than a sunrise did.

It was the time when he could reflect on his day and contemplate what the night might bring.

‘Oi!’ shouted a voice in his ear, and Jake’s stomach lurched like he was driving too fast over a hump-backed bridge.

‘Jesus,’ he yelled, and swiftly turned his head to find Tommy chuckling.

‘I’m not Jesus, but you’re close,’ began Tommy. ‘I thought I’d find you on the roof. I just wanted to say I was sorry about earlier when you saw me at the beach. I was caught up in the middle of something . . . It’s been an . . . eventful day.’

‘No, I owe you an apology for the other day in the pub. I wasn’t having the best of times—’

‘Honestly mate, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just start again. I’ve brought you a peace offering.’

From the pockets of his cargo shorts, he pulled out four miniature bottles of vodka and a can of Coke, a small bag of pot and some rolling papers.

*

‘I’ve not done this in years,’ said Jake, taking another drag from the joint Tommy had rolled. The filter was moist and tasted like Tommy’s kiss.

‘I smoked a few joints with Sean at this backpacking place in the woods once, but that’s about it. Were you a bit of a stoner in your day, then?’

Jake paused, knowing that with the booze and dope relaxing him, he couldn’t allow himself to become too loose of lip. ‘No more than anyone else,’ he conceded.

They sat with their backs to the low wall from where the railings had fallen days earlier. Darkness was moving in, and the streetlights below reflected off the sidewalk, giving them a blue and grey tint.

‘A toast,’ Tommy suggested, holding up his glass and spilling some of his drink on his leg. It made him giggle, and he wasn’t sure why.

‘What are we celebrating?’

‘I’ve freed my inner sausage and given up the job on the hot dog stand,’ continued Tommy, but decided against telling him of the $5,000 Nicole had given him for his help and in what circumstances. ‘And you know what, for the first time in ages, I can honestly say I’m a happy man.’

‘Why now?’

Tommy paused. ‘I lost people close to me not so long ago. It’s taken me a while to get my head around it.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’

‘Why do people always apologise, like it’s their fault?’

‘I don’t know, it just seems like the right thing to say. Do you want to tell me about it?’

‘Actually, yes, I’d like to, but not right now. There’s something else I’d rather do.’ Tommy stared at Jake and smiled, and Jake wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or the weed that was making him misjudge the moment. Tommy took another swig from his vodka bottle for Dutch courage and with Peyk’s words still ringing in his ears, took a deep breath.

‘Do I have to stop you falling from the roof again before you kiss me?’ asked Tommy.

‘But you’re not—’

Before he could even finish his sentence, Tommy had taken matters into his own hands and pressed his lips against Jake’s.

DAY FOURTEEN

Nicole spent much of the night awake and unable to sleep.

Above her bunk, Eric’s bed lay empty, stripped of its sheets, and with his belongings donated to a confused Joe. Each time she moved she felt her bruised ribs, sore head and broken nose, but they didn’t hurt as much as Eric’s betrayal. There were too many thoughts swimming around her head to allow her to drop into an REM sleep, and each time she closed her eyes, she saw the venomous face of Eric glaring back at her, ready to end her life, and all for the sake of money.

Nicole was reluctant to leave the building’s boundaries or even to venture into the courtyard to clear her head, even though she knew she was being irrational, as Eric was elsewhere in the city and behind bars. He wasn’t the only person she knew who’d been arrested recently, of course.

In the rare moments when she wasn’t reliving her ordeal in the car park with Eric, Nicole worried about what had become of Ruth. Her best guess was that she’d been taken to some type of psychiatric unit to examine her mental state. When it had transpired that Ruth had also killed her mother and brother back in Australia, Nicole knew her shy, unassuming roommate suffered problems much deeper rooted than Nicole could have ever imagined or handled. Maybe Eric was right to tell her not to approach Ruth, she conceded, and maybe he’d seen more of himself in Ruth than he let on.

Nicole gave up on rest long before her fellow hostellers awoke, and quietly slipped out of her room to eat breakfast alone in the kitchen and ponder what to do with her new-found wealth. She was as certain as she could be that Tommy would keep her money safe until she made a carefully considered decision, but after barely three days in her possession, all that cash had brought her was misery and bruising. She was beginning to regret having ever met her benefactor.

After rinsing her dishes she went by the hotel reception and noticed Peyk taping posters to the wall. ‘Free beach party, tomorrow night, Santa Monica. 8 p.m. till sunrise.’

‘You got some time later to help me organise food and stuff?’ Peyk asked.

‘Sure,’ replied Nicole, grateful for the opportunity to think about something other than her own troubles. Then, with the sudden urge for some familiar company, she was on her way towards Tommy’s dormitory when the door to another room opened.

Tommy didn’t see Nicole, but she was aware of him slipping out of Jake’s room in just his boxer shorts.

Four French girls Tommy had checked into the hostel days earlier stood in a line, stared at the television in the lounge and waited as a timer counted them down.

As soon as Pharrell Williams’ ‘Happy’ began playing, the girls followed the on-screen instructions and copied each of the dance moves they were told to follow by an animated character.

‘Where did that come from?’ Tommy asked Peyk, pointing to a brand new 72-inch television on the wall.

‘Ron bought it earlier and rigged it up.’

‘Nice to know he’s putting my earnings to good use,’ Tommy replied curtly. ‘Meanwhile the water pressure’s still non-existent and there’s next to no Wi-Fi signal.’

‘Yet you’re still smiling. What have you been up to, Tommy-boy?’

‘Nothing,’ he replied, blushing.

Tommy briefly reflected over the last week of his life and realised that if anyone had told him he’d finish the month selling drugs, framing a murderer or spending the night with another guy, he’d not have believed them.

‘Let’s just say I followed your advice,’ Tommy continued. ‘I jumped out of the bowl and I’m swimming in the ocean.’

‘Good man. Just make sure you’re swimming with the current and not against it. Don’t let the wrong people drag you down.’

Tommy rolled his eyes, preparing himself for more vague life lessons. ‘Like who?’

‘He’s not your brother or your father or your friend Sean or whoever else you want him to be. Don’t mistake love for longing.’

‘Peyk, you’re next!’ interrupted Elize in her heavy French accent, grabbing his arm and pushing him towards the game before Tommy could ask him to expand. Clearly drunk, she took Peyk’s place next to Tommy.

‘For an English guy, you’re cute,’ she slurred.

‘What’s wrong with English guys?’

‘They’re too pale and only want to drink beer all the time. If you like, we go to my room and know each other better.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Tommy replied, then gently placed his hands around her cheeks and moved her head backwards when her lips began to approach his.

From across the room, Jake watched, amused, as Tommy awkwardly rebuffed the inebriated girl’s clumsy advances. What had happened on the roof and later in his bedroom had taken Jake by surprise, albeit a wonderfully unexpected surprise. But he worried Tommy’s curiosity wouldn’t extend past an experimental fling.

‘Hi,’ smiled Nicole benignly, distracting Jake from his concerns.

‘Hello,’ Jake replied, and then frowned at the bruising and swelling around her eyes.

‘Didn’t Tommy tell you?’ she asked, pre-empting his question. ‘I thought you two were quite close.’

‘No, he didn’t say anything.’

‘It’s a long story,’ Nicole replied, reluctant to go into any further detail with someone she only vaguely knew.

As Elize continued to paw at Tommy, she noticed his attention was directed towards Jake and Nicole.

‘I think you like that girl in the corner better than me. You look at each other lots. She can come with us if you want.’

‘Nicole’s my friend,’ replied Tommy stiffly.

‘And the boy?’

‘Jake’s my friend too.’

‘You have a lot of friends. Jake is nice. He looks like that singer man. What his name . . . like you, English boy. Killed himself.’