A Killer Among Us

by Rhys Stalba-Smith

  Everyone was silent, staring at Charlie. But he’d not been listening. He was caught somewhere else. Something just said. Something Doctor Rawlson said. Years. Years? Years of what?

  Charlie, we don’t expect you to remember, Percy said. But, we do have to let you know. We have to because there isn’t—the man came to a stop. Is there anything you want to ask us?

  Charlie turned away. He couldn’t remember any of it. Suicide? That definitely wasn’t him. Or hadn’t been him, maybe he’d changed after the crash? He began watching the gardner again. Watching him wheel the barrow across the lawn. Loading up wood chips now. Roll it back to the garden bed. All he had to do was wait. Just wait for them to leave. There wasn’t anything they could force him to do or say. He couldn’t remember anything anyway. He just had to wait. That’s what the crazies did when he practiced. He’d sit there and have to watch them stare at the wall, at their laps, rugs, out windows, at him. Just doing nothing. Nothing but waiting. Ticking time off.

  Enjoy the rest of your day then, Doctor Rawlson said. He’d still been talking and Charlie had drifted away. Percy was watching him. We’ll be in touch. Percy will still be your orderly. Like always, if you need anything, you can make an appointment with either of us.

  Charlie nodded. Still staring out the window.

  What was it you wanted to ask about the crash? Doctor Smith asked.

  Charlie came back. He stared at her, trying to find his line of thought. When nothing came, he asked what he’d always feared. Did they suffer?

  It happened quickly, I believe, Doctor Smith replied. It’s a miracle you survived really.

  Charlie said nothing. Something learned that he’d forget again. They’d said something earlier too, already slipping away. Something about years? Probably his rehab. It would take years to get better. He wasn’t surprised. It wouldn’t matter if his memory came back. He just wanted to remember the time leading up to the crash. From what someone had said he couldn’t remember the year before either? A year? Was that the years?

  A word with so much weight. In psych they’d always expressed to people the importance of words. That words carried meanings heavier than their definition. He recalled telling someone that the difference between the definition and knowing was the experience. It was everything.

  The doctors were gone now and only Percy remained. You scared me yesterday chief, he said, pulling the visitor chair over from the small table Charlie ate at. Moved the wheel chair away. Yeah, real scared. Didn’t seem like you anymore.

  I’m sorry.

  Don’t be. Can’t help it.

  Did I really try and commit suicide?

  I don’t think so. You had the razors, but I don’t think it was for killing yourself. I dunno, Percy rubbed his face and drove the knuckles around in circles in his eyes. When we found you, or you found us, you didn’t seem like you. I know those doctors say you had an episode, but you didn’t seem like you. Or if it was you you were like a kid. Not the normal episodes that happen here.

  Like a kid, how so? he asked.

  Percy sat back now, regarding the man in front of him. Probably figuring if he should tell him the truth. You were screaming a name over and over. And you had this piece of paper clutched in your hand. You didn’t know about your legs either. Kept screaming at us. Your sister’s name, I believe.

  Charlie’s mind was whirring. What Percy was saying sounded like a memory he could remember. Except…

  Anyway, Percy said, shifting and reaching into his pants pocket. I kept the paper for you. I know it’s important. This isn’t the first time you’ve taken it out.

  Percy gave Charlie the small piece of paper. Folded in half so that he couldn’t read what was inside, but he knew what it was. Knew from years of owning it what it was. But there was something more pressing in his mind than the piece of paper. A word rebounding and echoing. Years. Years. Years.

  What did they mean by my medication changing? Charlie asked. Am I having a reaction to the pain meds?

  Percy didn’t reply, he looked away, face shaking. Yeah, he began then stopped, lip quivering. You’re not having the desired reaction, is what they mean. Something stronger is required to deal with the episodes. Something that’ll keep you calmer. I, I wanted to tell you myself.

  Charlie watched Percy now, for Percy was watching the gardner work. He knew what Percy meant, the meds not having the desired effect meant more than what was being said. He remembered saying it to patients years ago. He must be acting erratic. Angry. Violent. In short they were gonna dope him up to the eyeballs. He’d done meetings like this himself.

  How long left on my current round? he asked.

  ‘Bout a week I’d say, Percy said. He looked back at Charlie now, devastated and looking at least ten years older than Charlie had ever seen him.

  . . .

  Charlie missed his sister. It’d been five days since she disappeared. He understood why his parents were scared, but he didn’t understand why he couldn’t go outside. What would anyone want with a kid? Why had someone wanted Sarah? He didn’t understand. Huffed out a deep sigh and kicked away his covers.

  He’d been reading Fuselage comics in bed. Dreaming of saving the day just like Hap. Swooping in, getting the bad guys, saving his sister. He could see it clearly in his head. The bad guys mean and ugly. Big guns and big muscles. But he was sneaky. Crawling through the undergrowth, catching the man from behind and crack!, neck broken. Then bam bam, Charlie on the guns! Running through the bush, over the fence, bam bam, ‘nother man down. He could see the main building. See where his sister was. He could hear the laughter of the boss. Heard his sister’s cries. He took out his bazooka. Lined up the front door. Knock Knock. Who’s there?

  Hap Diggins and Charlie Gardner.

  BOOM!

  There was a small rattle at his window. Charlie looked, saw a small hand knocking. He slid the window up. You can’t be here Jim, parents’d go boonta.

  Keep quiet about it then, Jim whispered. He rose tentatively now, looking Charlie in the face. A scruffy boy, dirt on his shorts and shirt, on his face. Haven’t seen ya in ages Charlie.

  Seeing Jim made Charlie sad, just another reminder he couldn’t leave the house in the current situation. Heya Jim.

  Pretty crazy with your sister an’ all that stuff.

  Charlie shrugged.

  Bastards, Jim said.

  Charlie agreed, nothing else for it. That was the word Jim’s dad always used when he didn’t like something. Bastards. Or, Bugger it! Yeah, Charlie said. Bastards.

  Wanna play?

  Can’t.

  Why?

  Just can’t, Charlie said, shrugging. Can’t go out.

  Bastards.

  Yep.

  They were both silent for a pause. Jim playing with the peeling paint on Charlie’s window sill. He took something from his pocket. Well I bought ya a gobstopper anyways. Might as well be bored and have a gobstopper.

  Cheers Jim.

  You sad?

  Charlie shrugged. Dunno. It’s weird. Don’t really get it.

  You think she’ll come back from running away?

  She didn’t run away, she got kidnapped. A bad thing adults do, Mum said. Dad says some people just do it.

  Jim nodded, agreeing but not understanding. Why’d someone want your sister?

  Guess is as good as mine. But it’s been ages now. Like five days. Almost a week. Mum and Dad are pretty sad. Wish I could help them.

  Like Hap would.

  Yup, Charlie said. He kicked the comics under his blankets a bit though, trying to hide them. Feeling slightly embarrassed that maybe his kid ideas weren’t that good.

  You know when you can come out then?

  Nope.

  Bastards.

  Yup.

  The door opened quickly, Charlie’s dad entered talking. You seen where the—Oh hi Jim.

  Hi Mister Gardner. I mean sir.

  You know you can call me Paul, Jim.

  Okay.

&nbs
p; You know Charlie can’t come out though.

  Jim nodded. He was saying he couldn’t.

  It’s not you, Paul said. I’m sure you heard.

  Yup. Bastards, Jim said.

  Paul smiled, sat down on the bed with Charlie. Bastards exactly. I’m sure you’ve cheered him up talking through the window.

  I brought him a gobstopper, sir. I mean Paul.

  How’s Mark doing? Haven’t seen him at the club in a while.

  Bastards’ve got him doing doubles at the quarry, Jim said, smiling that his swearing had been approved.

  Okay then, Paul said, he ruffled the hair of his own son. Your parents know you’re here?

  No.

  Paul frowned. I’m sorry Jim, I don’t want them scared for you. Mind if I call, tell ‘em you’re on your way home?

  Okay then. But don’t say it like I was sneaking. I was just wanting to see Charlie.

  I know you were Jim. Jim turned at the window and went to make his way to the side gate. And Jim? Jim stopped. Thanks for stopping by, Paul said. When you get home, please call here and let it ring three times. I’ll be listening.

  Okay Mister Gardner.

  At that Jim left the yard and hurried off. Paul Gardner left the room for a few minutes and could be heard talking to Jim’s mother. He was exactly as he promised, letting her know how touched he was that her son had come to cheer up Charlie.

  Charlie had taken the gobstopper out of the paper bag and was eyeing off its size. There was no way he believed he could fit it all in his mouth. He’d have to work at it. Surely he’d choke otherwise. He still thought John Rhys was lying, that his older brother could fit three was about as likely as Hap losing against Team Cold Shadow.

  Charlie’s dad came back into the room, sat down with Charlie. Jim’s a good kid, isn’t he? Sometimes Charlie’s dad asked questions like this, a question that wasn’t one. One where the answer was in the asking. Good kid, he went on. He had tears in his eyes. The phone rang three times then stopped. He nodded in relief. We love you so much Charlie.

  Love you too, Dad.

  No but, you gotta understand, if anything ever happened, what’s happening now, he broke off. Look Charlie, what’s happening with your sister, it’s not good. It’s, it’s, he couldn’t find the words.

  Something bad people do.

  Yes, he said. It is. But you have to understand, it could happen anytime. And I know Jim means well, but if you ever see anyone in the yard that isn’t him, I want you to tell me. I want you to not speak to them or go outside. Okay? You gotta be careful from now on. Your sister, we hope, it’s just that your mother—Look it’s like, he stopped again. Just be good. Listen to what I’ve said.

  Okay, Charlie replied. I won’t go outside.

  No it’s not that. It’s being aware. You gotta look at the people in the world. Judge them.

  Charlie didn’t get it, but he could understand that it meant a lot to his dad. He hugged him and let his dad know it was okay. That’s what they did when he was hurting or when he couldn’t really figure it out. His father hugged him back and rubbed his hair again.

  Now I know you been good these last few days, stayed inside while your mum and I been figuring things out, how about you come out the front with me? I gotta change the oil in the FJ to keep my mind off your sister. You can play with your army men by my side.

  Really? Charlie wanted to smile, but wasn’t sure how it would mean. He was excited to leave his room, but still missed his sister. It’s what Sarah would’ve called an adult emotion.

  Five minutes later Charlie was sat playing in the grass by the letterbox and their front fence. His dad was in the driveway under the FJ, undoing the oil plug, pan by his side.

  Charlie poured all his boys out in the grass and was currently setting them up. It was a rescue mission. Just like Hap Diggins. Just like he’d imagined. One of their own had been taken hostage and was being held captive in the letterbox. Little did his men know that this would be a trap and diversion from the real hiding place, nevertheless he allowed them to prepare for battle. He’d separated them into squadrons and different grades of weaponry. He also had his toy jeep and tank out. They were ready for anything.

  They began by scouting the area. He ran back to the bed of roses his mum had planted last year and got on his stomach. He crawled along with his scouts in each hand. Men ahead, he reported to each plastic figure. Looks like heavy fireworks boys. Gonna need the Zookas. Maybe even the tank. He kept crawling. Made a radio motion at his side. Scouts in position with him. We got some rotten eggs out today gentlemen. Best start cracking huh?

  Charlie was on his feet, running towards the battle. He cast the scouts down and picked up the infantry. Began rolling around and making rifle noises. Pretending to be his own men getting shot. He shouted out, Back up! Cover me! and This one is for the good guys! Where was Hap? Where was Hap? Knock knock, he was Hap.

  Finally at the letterbox Charlie pulled the pin on a grenade and ducked for cover. Boom! Then back at it. Kicking enemy soldiers left right and centre. The good guys winning. About to save the day. About to save the hostage. He flipped open the letterbox and stopped cold.

  The hostage that shouldn’t have been there was replaced by something that was there. There was a piece of paper, torn and folded in half. He swallowed and looked at his dad working under the FJ. He looked back at the house, imagined his mother inside muttering his sister’s name over and over. Praying. He reached in and took it out. Opened it up.

  At the corner of Precinct and Rains is where she remains.

  He read it again slower. Ms Tennerson always said that there was nothing wrong with reading slow, it allowed the meaning to come. So he read slow. The meaning ticking over in his head. Slowly inching up his spine. Then like a blaring alarm it was sounding in his heart and body. He began screaming. Screaming his sister’s name over and over. Running to his dad. Screaming, that he knew where the hostage was. Where his sister was. Where Sarah was.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  For fuck’s sake Charlie, Eve yelled. She pushed the door of the lobby open, they entered into the cold night. On his fucking birthday.

  No, Charlie said. No you do not get to say on his birthday, like it’s some fucking excuse. He rammed his fucking tongue down your throat in front of everyone, and I bet half the bloody party didn’t even know you were my wife!

  But it doesn’t mean you can smack him in the face—

  Course it bloody does. Charlie was looking for the taxi stand, or a passing one. It gives me every right. And what’s more, Charlie waved at the cab and the driver swung in towards the curb. What’s more is you didn’t even push him off. All fuck’n night he’s been so annoying, you said. Talking about high school. The cab stopped by Charlie. He opened the door for Eve to get in. Once she had he opened the front door and reeled off their address. I’ll see you at home. I’m walking. He slammed the door shut before she could argue and the taxi drove off.

  Charlie was fuming. His hand hurting. He was still reeling from the last ten minutes. Gary had grabbed his wife and started kissing her in front of everyone. Before he realised, before he could stop himself, he was pushing through the catcalling crowd, jumping over the coffee table, and pulling them apart. And before Gary’s drunken eyes and poking tongue could concentrate on a face, Charlie’s fist was swinging forward and colliding with Gary’s face. His fist exploding in pain as he smacked Gary in his cheekbone.

  Then it was quiet. Everyone stopped. Mike laughed from the back. Charlie became very aware of what he’d done as Gary fell backwards. Then he went sideways as he was tackled over a couch.

  It became very loud very quick. Everyone yelling. Everyone yelling at him, grabbing him, him yelling back. Eve screaming. Gary’s nose pissing blood. Now Gary yelling at him to get out, Mike coming through and pushing people off. Next thing he knew Charlie was through the front door and watching it slam shut. Five minutes later Eve came out, tears in her eyes, cheeks flush.

  I ca
n’t believe you embarrassed me like that. Again.

  You can’t believe what? Charlie said. I’m the one fucking embarrassed. You just made out with the man who’s been in love with you his whole life in front of his family and friends, and you didn’t even try to stop him. And the fuck do you mean again?

  It caught me off guard, Eve said.

  What do you mean again? Charlie repeated.

  Eve stabbed the elevator button and wrapped her coat tight, her dress underneath soaked. All bloody night I’ve been with Gary while you moped in the corner. Feeling shit for yourself while I had to go—

  Don’t turn this on me, you know I didn’t want to come. Fucking mope, what am I gonna do at a party where everyone thinks he’s a nob?

  Everyone was having a pretty good time Charlie.

  The elevator door dinged open, Charlie stopped Eve from entering. Hold up, you came out and gave me a whole plight on him being a lonely broken heart? You saying that just to placate me? I don’t need it Eve, I’m an adult.

  And I don’t need it either Charlie. All night I went around that party answering yes I am Eve Gardner, of Charlie Gardner. They were all journos. Course you wouldn’t have dealt with that because you were sitting in the corner.

  Oh you had one evening inconvenienced by it did you? Charlie asked, pressing the ground button.

  No, I—

  I’ve had ten fucking years of it Eve. Ten. Job interview after job interview. Lost friends because of dickheads like Gary writing about me in the papers. Charlie rolled his eyes and looked away. One evening of being reminded of my biggest fuck up and you don’t want to push Gary away? Fuck off.

  Eve didn’t answer, they rode the elevator down in silence. With all the blues they’d ever had, he’d never told her to fuck off. But here they were, and if he was honest, he didn’t even feel bad about it. As the doors opened he couldn’t help himself, the question coming without thinking, Did you enjoy it at least? he asked.