HUNTING AND GATHERING
Paulina’s face had never looked older or uglier. She found five grey hairs within forty-eight hours, then kept seeing more whenever she hobbled to the bathroom. Or hallucinating them.
‘If you’re not sure, don’t pluck them,’ Judy advised her. ‘It could be a trick of the light. You have beautiful hair, Paulina. You don’t want to be pulling it out willy-nilly.’
‘Fuck you!’ Paulina cried — not because it was bad advice, but because her head felt like a speed bump that trucks kept driving over. ‘I’ll pull it all out! I’ll shave it!’
‘Now you’re being melodramatic.’ Judy sighed. ‘Trust me, it’s just stress. I wasn’t even twenty when I found my first greys, after the first miscarriage—’
‘Ugh! I hate taking after you.’
‘You don’t take after me in everything. Your hair’s much more beautiful. Please, don’t shave it off. I’ll cry rivers.’
‘Fuckkkkk! Youuuuu!’
‘You’re still committed to this “cold turkey” thing, then?’
‘Yeahhhh! I’m stone-cold sober!’
‘Well, I gathered as much. I’m very proud of you, darling. I have faith in you.’
‘Why won’t you leave me alone, then?’
‘Because … I like the sound of your voice. Even when you’re cursing a blue streak. I like to know you’re still hanging on.’
‘I should bloody well kill myself, so I don’t have to hear your voice.’
‘Don’t, Paulina,’ Judy said tersely. ‘Please, don’t.’
It was so quiet, Paulina could hear the ringing in her ears; they were always ringing, since what Car did. ‘Let me die, bitch.’
Judy made a faint, wispy sound.
‘No. That’s not happening. Sorry.’
Paulina exhaled through clenched teeth. ‘I’m fine, okay? Just, my head’s killing me.’
‘Did you take some Panadol?’
‘They do shit-all.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Judy’s voice was soft as tissue-paper, but it may as well have been a steel scourer. ‘It’s withdrawal. You’ll have to grin and bear it. Keep the light low. Put a cool cloth on your head. Make sure you drink plenty of water. And eat, Paulina—’
‘Fuuuuck! Offffff!’
‘Okay.’ Judy inhaled sharply. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay? Fuck off now.’
‘Okay. But call me, please. If you need anything. If you have any bad thoughts. Before you do anything … out of the ordinary. Call me?’
Paulina hung up, screaming.
She didn’t scream when she saw Car standing over her bed in the night. The scream stuck in her throat. She waited for him to move. He didn’t. She squinted, and his shape became her moonlit curtains. But the fear stayed in her; she heard bugs flicking against the windows, the tin roof creaking. Ribs aching, she got up to check the locks, then felt her way to the bathroom and took a frightened dump in the dark.
When she reached for toilet paper, there was none.
Cursing the wood-fired hot water system, she took an icy shower, emerged white-breathed and jittery. She rugged up and chain-smoked on the porch. The stars faded as the sky turned grey-blue, rosy. Feral roosters crowed. When she saw Vera stomping from the main house to the wood pile, she went back indoors.
Vera knocked while Paulina was watching Jerry Springer with her sunnies on, volume tuned to that sweet spot that covered the ringing in her ears but didn’t hurt too bad.
‘Yeah?’ Paulina mumbled, dragging herself to the flyscreen.
‘The chooks are overdoing it.’ Vera brandished a basket. ‘Mind if I offload these?’
Hair falling in her face, Paulina opened the flyscreen. ‘Cheers.’
‘Avocados, too.’ Vera nodded toward the orchard. ‘Take as many as you want. We’ve got them coming out of our ears.’
‘Cheers.’
‘I’m doing a run to the shops later. Save you a trip?’
‘S’alright,’ Paulina mumbled — then remembered. ‘Actually. Toilet paper?’
‘Anything else?’
‘Um. Panadol?’
‘Some bread? Eggs on toast.’
‘S’alright.’ Paulina’s eyes misted behind her sunglasses. ‘Yeah. Alright.’
‘Write a list, if you think of anything. Stick it on the door. I’ll swing by on my way out.’
Mumbling her thanks, Paulina shut herself inside. She was sticking the list to the door when Vera’s cat, Katie, snuck past her feet.
Paulina fell asleep with Katie tucked against her sore ribs like a hot water bottle. When she woke, Katie was gone, and the groceries were unpacked; the receipt stuck to the fridge with a starfish magnet.
‘I’m fat. I wanna go for my walk.’
‘You’re not fat. Don’t feel bad about skipping your walks for a while. You won’t get fat overnight. What did you eat today?’
‘Avocado.’
‘Just avocado?’
‘Leave me alone.’
‘Can you please eat something else? Please, for me.’
‘I wanna walk.’
‘It’s too late for walking. And you need energy to walk. Why don’t you eat a proper dinner and, who knows, you might be well enough tomorrow.’
‘Fuck you!’
‘Go make a piece of toast. Go on.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do!’
‘I’d like it if you made some toast, Paulina. I really would.’
‘I don’t give a fuck!’
‘Well, even so. You need carbs. Protein, too. You said your landlady brought you some eggs? Why don’t you boil one to have with soldiers?’
‘I’m not a baby!’
‘Or, fried. Scrambled.’
‘Too hard!’
‘Well, okay. Just some avo on toast, then. You can have the eggs tomorrow.’
‘I’m tired.’
‘I’ll help you make it. Where do you keep the bread?’
‘Fridge.’
‘It keeps the mould away, doesn’t it? You can always freeze it, too.’
‘My head hurts.’
‘I’m not surprised; you haven’t eaten, and you’re still withdrawing. Did you find the bread?’
‘Yeah.’
‘How brown do you want it?’
‘I dunno.’ Paulina started to cry. ‘I don’t know, Mum.’
‘That’s alright. What setting is it on? Can you see the little numbers?’
‘Three.’
‘Let’s go with three, then. Put it in. Make sure it’s plugged in and switched on. Is it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Good. Now we wait.’
Paulina cried while she waited. ‘It hurts, Mum.’
‘Shhh. It’s alright.’
‘Muuuuum.’
‘I’m here.’
‘When’s it gonna stop?’
‘I don’t know, darling. I wish I knew. It’s a big thing, what you’re doing. Your body’s so dependent … not to mention your brain. It’ll get easier, though.’ Judy’s voice became muffled, wet. ‘Oh, darling. If you’d just come home. You could go to rehab—’
‘No!’
‘Or if you’d let me come—’
‘No!’
‘There’s no shame in needing help, Paulina. Please—’
‘Fuck you! Fuck off!’
Paulina hung up. The toast popped. She stared at it, nostrils flared, heart racing, till the phone rang again.
‘Fuck you!’ she answered it.
‘Is that toast ready?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Where’s that avo?’
Paulina picked an avocado from the bowl on the counter. ‘I need to cut it.’
‘Careful, now.’
She pic
ked up a knife. ‘I wanna cut myself.’
‘No, darling. Let’s cut that avo instead. Gently, now.’
‘I hate you.’
‘I know. Gently. Cut it in half. Is it halved?’
‘Yeah.’ Paulina’s stomach turned. ‘It looks gross.’
‘If there’s brown, just skim that off. Do you have something to spread it with?’
‘Fork?’
‘A fork’ll do. Why don’t we put the knife away—’
‘Have some faith in me!’
‘You don’t need it anymore. Can you put it in the sink, out of the way?’
Paulina threw the knife in the sink with a clatter. ‘You’re such a bitch!’
‘I know. Now, let’s spread the avo on the toast. You’re doing well. How’s it going?’
‘Yeah.’
‘The avo’s on the toast?’
‘Yeah.’ Paulina sniffed. ‘It looks shit.’
‘Looks don’t matter. Try it.’
‘It’s ugly. I’m ugly.’
‘You’re a beautiful girl. You need to eat so you can keep being beautiful. Please, try.’
Paulina bit into the toast. Every bone in her head got sharper. The crunch was loud as gravel in her ears.
‘It hurts!’
‘I know, darling,’ Judy murmured. ‘I know it hurts. But it’s good for you. You’re very brave, very good. Keep trying; I‘m right here with you.’
It took half an hour for Paulina to change out of her trakkies and jumper and into her sports bra and shorts, to tie the shoes that went with them, to clip her Discman to her waistband. The shorts cut into her soft flesh like wire. So did the bra. She didn’t like how white her skin was or how it folded over the tight clothes. The bruises were black and brown now.
She put her headphones on. They softened the sounds of the world; the wind in the trees, birdsong, someone mowing a lawn. But not the ringing in her ears.
She got as far as Vera and Rocky’s back porch before she got goosebumps. She continued uphill. Her armpits moistened. The driveway was covered in brown dust.
She reached the cattle grid. The cow letterbox. No mail for her.
She saw the road, no cars on it. Shadows of trees on the road. Her heart swelled. Then the wind became a hiss; the birds, alarm bells.
Sharply, she turned back.
‘I’m scared,’ Paulina whimpered. ‘Mum. I’m scared.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Judy sounded foggy, faraway. ‘What scared you?’
‘Mum!’
‘Shhh. I’m here.’ Her voice got clearer. ‘What’s wrong? Was it a bad dream?’
‘I saw a man.’
‘What man? Where?’
‘In my curtains.’
‘Are you looking at the curtains now?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Is there a man?’
‘No.’
‘There’s no man. You’d hear, if a man broke in. The dog would bark, wouldn’t it?’
‘Why doesn’t he just kill me in my sleep.’
Judy sighed. ‘I know it’s scary living alone sometimes. The things that go through your head at night. I get scared, too.’
‘No!’
‘No? I’m not allowed to be scared?’
‘No.’
Judy laughed, unexpectedly. ‘You’re a funny little thing.’
‘Don’t patronise me!’
‘Scaring me shitless in the middle of the night, then telling me I can’t be scared?’ She laughed again. ‘I do get scared. I’m scared when you’re scared. Please, don’t be scared.’
Paulina started crying. ‘I don’t know what’s real anymore.’
‘Shhh. I know, it’s confusing sometimes,’ Judy whispered. ‘I’m real, if that helps. You know I’m real?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you know how much I love you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘There you go. Your mum loves you. That’s very real. Okay?’
Paulina couldn’t answer; her chest was clogged with grief.
‘Don’t worry about curtains and men and things. They’re all a big joke. As long as you know you’re loved. You know that?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay. Get some sleep, baby.’
There was a time of day, just before sunset, when things could go one way or another. When the whole world looked like a diorama, the sky a slow-moving painting, and sometimes she felt lucky to be exactly where she was, smoking on her porch, and other times she wanted to take the washing line and knot it around her neck.
Instead, she took the car keys, drove the Mazda. The phone was screaming at her when she got back, close to midnight.
‘Paulina! Oh, gawd. Paulina. Where were you?’
‘Driving.’
‘Driving? Where?’
‘Everywhere.’ Her hands were trembling; her head was cloudy; she was faint with hunger — but ecstatic. ‘I drove the whole island.’
‘Why?’
‘I had some things to see.’
‘What things?’
‘Outside.’
‘At night?’
‘There’s less people.’
‘Oh, Paulina. I must’ve called fifty times.’
‘Bloody hell.’ Paulina’s tummy rumbled. ‘Get a life.’
‘Paulina: you are my life. If anything happened—’
‘I was just driving! Fuck!’
‘Okay.’ Judy breathed out slowly. ‘You were gone a long time, that’s all.’
‘I had things to see!’
‘What things?’
‘Cliffs and things.’
‘Paulina …’ Judy quavered. ‘When you’re gone for hours, and you tell me you were out looking at cliffs, what am I supposed to think?’
‘Stop thinking about me!’ Paulina spat. ‘Get a life!’
‘Look: I know you don’t want me to, but I think it’s best if I come over there ASAP—’
‘No!’
‘It’s not up for discussion. Either you come home or I—’
‘I’ll kill myself if you come here!
‘Paulina, that’s exactly why—’
‘I’ll jump off a cliff! The sharks’ll eat me! You’ll never find my body!’
‘You wouldn’t do that to me.’
‘Then don’t do that to me.’
‘Darling. Please. I just want to see you.’
‘Tough shit. I don’t wanna be seen.’ Paulina fingered the cigarette burns she’d made inside her arms, earlier that evening. ‘Not like this.’
‘Baby. I’ve seen you all sorts of ways. I gave birth to you, for chrissakes—’
‘I didn’t ask to be born, you fucking bitch!’
Judy began weeping, quiet and hopeless. ‘Oh, sweetheart. Please—’
‘Please !’ Paulina screamed. ‘Don’t come till I say. You can come see me, but only when I say. Okay?’
Judy snuffled and sobbed for a long time before agreeing. ‘Okay.’
‘I need to eat now.’ Solemnly, Paulina opened the pantry. ‘Can you help me eat?’
‘Kill me,’ Paulina said, the next time she woke to Car standing over her bed. ‘Just kill me.’
He didn’t.
She rolled onto her tummy and put a hand inside her knickers.
Knives. Broken bottles. The sharp lids of cans. The hot tips of cigarettes. Fishing hooks. Cattle prods. Barbed wire. Jagged cliffs. Fists.
She made herself come, imagining all the ways he could suffer. Then her breathing slowed and the ringing in her ears resumed, loud as ever.
At first Paulina was annoyed when all the channels kept showing the same thing, but after a while she found it soothing. First one tower, frille
d with smoke and flames, then the other, then the roaring panic that had nothing to do with her under her blankets on her couch on her island. Judy seemed chipper about it, too.
‘It makes you think, doesn’t it? Things could be worse! Imagine if you’d got a job in New York instead of Fairfolk.’
‘I’d rather be in a burning tower than listening to your stupid voice.’
‘Well …’ Judy gathered her breath. ‘If you’re sick of my voice, you could always speak to a professional—’
‘No!’
‘Paulina. Baby. I love you, but I — I’m not that smart. I can’t—’
‘Stop crying!’
‘Sorry, baby. But don’t you think a doctor would be better? Someone who knows things? I don’t—’ Judy choked on her words. ‘I just don’t know anymore.’
Paulina hung up. Let the phone ring out three times, before she answered again.
‘Bitch,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t cry.’
‘I’m sorry. That was stupid.’ Judy breathed in-out, in-out. ‘I won’t do it again. But I mean what I said. I’m just a receptionist. Wouldn’t you rather a doctor? Someone smart?’
‘I’m not paying to talk to some man with glasses.’
‘It doesn’t have to be a man. And I’ve said a thousand times, I’ll pay—’
‘It’s always a man with glasses or some judgmental old hippie.’
‘You’re generalising.’
‘You’re giving me a headache.’
‘Just think about it. Okay?’
‘My head really hurts.’
‘Okay. Let’s get dinner on. Do you have any more of that tuna?’
‘I gave it to the cat.’
‘Paulina! You need protein more than that cat does!’
‘She was meowing and stuff.’
‘Well, okay. What else do you have?’
‘Just … canned shit.’
‘Can you be more specific?’
‘Peas … corn … soup … Ugh, it’s all just shit waiting to happen.’
Judy laughed. ‘You’re right, you know. Which one looks less shit, though? If you had to choose?’
Paulina sighed. ‘It’s all shit, Mum.’
Everything seemed jagged. She walked anyway. Past the yard full of palm trees with metal rings around their trunks. A wind-bloated Fairfolk flag. A buzzing electric fence. She turned on her music, but it was so loud, she turned it off right away. It wasn’t just her throbbing head; it was not being able to hear every crackle of the world, to respond quick.
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