The Newcomer

by Laura Elizabeth Woollett

  ‘Nay, it’s not for me, eh,’ he mumbled. ‘Fairfolk’s my home.’

  ‘Even so. You should see the world. Travel. Find yourself a cute twenty-five-year-old—’

  ‘I don’t want a twenty-five-year-old.’

  He held his breath, waiting to see if she’d acknowledge the elephant in the room.

  ‘I’m just saying, you don’t want to get to my age—’

  ‘You should take some of your own advice, Judy. Travel the world. Find yourself a twenty-five-year-old.’

  ‘Now you’re just being cruel.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Jesse glanced out at the palms rustling in the clear summer night. ‘The thing with Fairfolk … even if it’s boring, it’s paradise.’

  ‘You sound like Paulina.’

  ‘We don’t have homeless people here. I hated that, on the mainland. All these poor buggers sleeping on the street and people walking right over them.’

  ‘It’s a problem, yes.’

  ‘And the rules? One time they wouldn’t let me in a pub cos my shoes were wrong.’

  ‘Yes, that happens.’

  ‘All kinds of rules.’ It hurt to even talk about. ‘Like, one time, on the train? Empty carriage. I was drawing. I had my feet up. I didn’t know that’s not allowed. Anyway, this guard comes along, only I don’t hear him, I’ve got my headphones on …’

  ‘Oh, Jess.’

  ‘Then he rips the headphones off and starts calling me “boong”, “abo”. He throws me off the train. Just for resting my feet? I got thrown off the train.’

  ‘Jess. You poor thing.’

  ‘I got bruises, where he threw me. I got a rip in my jeans; they were my only jeans. I was scared taking the train. I had to take the train to uni. You wonder why I dropped out?’

  ‘Oh, sweetheart.’

  ‘That’s the mainland, eh.’ He shrugged. ‘No one cares what shoes I wear, here. And you can actually see the stars here? I never saw them, in Brisbane. Right now, outside, there’s so many stars.’

  ‘Sweetheart,’ Judy repeated, her voice like a trail of fingers over his back, a kiss on the brow. ‘That reminds me. I dreamt about Fairfolk the other night. You were there.’

  ‘Yeah?’ His heart swelled.

  ‘Isn’t that funny? You were just saying last time how I was in your dream.’

  ‘Do you remember it?’

  ‘Oh, not much. Just, we were outside somewhere. I think it was your house … not that I’ve seen it. We were sitting outside, and I got the feeling it was your house.’

  ‘Yeah? How’d it look?’

  ‘I didn’t notice. I was looking at your hands. There were these sunbeams … they kept going on your hands while you were talking. I don’t know what you were saying. I just kept looking at the sun on your hands.’ She laughed softly. ‘What a thing to dream. I don’t even know what your hands look like, really.’

  Jesse looked at his bandaged hand. ‘They’re nothing special, eh.’

  ‘Well, they were nice in my dream. With all the sun on them.’

  Jesse sat quietly, too flattered to speak. He heard her inhale and, worried she’d say something to kill the mood, blurted out, ‘I remember your hands. That time you touched my arm at Foodfolk.’

  ‘Oh, gawd!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I wish you didn’t remember that.’ She laughed. ‘Caro gave me hell about that.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Oh, she said I was flirting. Really, I think she was trying to take my mind off the trial. But she wouldn’t shut up about it. I’m embarrassed you remember that.’

  ‘It was nice,’ Jesse said earnestly. ‘I liked it when you did that.’

  Judy got the giggles again.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. You’re a funny little thing, that’s all.’

  Jesse couldn’t bring himself to go inside the travel agency and actually book a one-way ticket. But he noticed himself looking at the prices every time he passed. Like he noticed his chest tightening when the planes to Sydney roared overhead, three times a week.

  ‘I was thinking,’ he told her, resigned to his fate. ‘About what you said the other week. About leaving the island.’

  ‘You want to travel?’ She sounded vaguely crestfallen. ‘That’s wonderful, Jess.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s just a thought. Maybe Sydney’s less backward than Brisbane.’

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ she said, meaning it this time. ‘You’ll have to visit me.’

  ‘Yeah. Definitely.’

  ‘I’ll cook you dinner.’

  ‘Yeah.’ His heart throbbed. ‘I dunno. I dunno where I’d stay.’

  ‘Lots of young people like the nightlife in Newtown.’ She laughed. ‘I’m in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing near me.’

  ‘Yeah, but.’ He flushed. ‘You’re there.’

  ‘I mean …’ She laughed. ‘You’re welcome to stay here, until you find your feet. I should’ve offered.’

  ‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘Unless. Would you want that?’

  ‘I’d love to have you in my house, Jess.’

  ‘You don’t have to say that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.’

  ‘Yeah. Just.’ He felt like a deep-sea diver running out of oxygen. ‘I dunno.’

  ‘Well, let me know.’

  She sounded so calm; he wanted her hot, flustered. ‘Where would I sleep?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘If I stayed with you.’ It was torture, putting it into words. ‘Where would I sleep?’

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s plenty of room,’ she said breezily. ‘I won’t put you in Paulina’s room, if that’s what you’re worried about. There’s a spare room.’

  Jesse groaned under his breath. ‘Yeah. Maybe.’

  ‘Is everything alright, Jess?’

  ‘Yeah … nay,’ he backtracked. ‘I’ll probably get pulled over ten minutes down the road from the airport, eh.’

  ‘Well, I’ll pick you up from the airport. Obviously.’

  He imagined being in her car. Went quiet with imagining.

  ‘Jess? Are you still there?’

  ‘Yeah, nay.’ He shook his head. ‘I dunno anymore.’

  He smoked two bongs, for courage. Smashed two cans of Pine Brew. On his third, he dialled her number and, before she’d even asked how he was, let loose.

  ‘Look, I’m coming, okay. I definitely wanna come.’

  ‘Oh?’ she said. ‘That’s … wonderful. Have you decided on dates?’

  ‘Soon. Next month.’

  ‘Of course. Like I said, you’re more than welcome to stay here.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He took another swallow of beer. ‘Just. Can we talk about where I’d sleep? I think we should decide that, before I come.’

  ‘I thought …’ Judy sounded genuinely confused. ‘I said there’s a spare bedroom, didn’t I? It’s not much, but I can make it comfy, now I know you’re—’

  ‘Is that really where you want me?’

  ‘I mean … I want you to be comfortable. Is there somewhere you’d rather be?’

  ‘You tell me.’

  ‘I …’ Judy sighed. ‘No, you tell me. What are you asking?’

  ‘What do you think I’m asking?’

  ‘No. I’m not doing this. Where do you want to be, Jess?’ When he didn’t answer, she sighed again. ‘Maybe we should just call the whole thing off.’

  ‘No,’ he said urgently.

  ‘Jess … I don’t know what you want me to say!’ Judy’s voice cracked. ‘You hold all the cards here, not me.’

  ‘I don’t. Please, just tell me—’

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘You started this.’

  Face burning, Jesse relented.

  ‘Look: if I’m comin
g all that way, it’s not to sleep in a spare room.’

  ‘… Okay.’

  ‘Okay? Do I have to spell it out?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I want to be where you are. I want to be with you. Okay?’

  She was quiet for so long, he worried he’d scared her off.

  ‘Oh, Jess,’ she murmured, finally. ‘You don’t want that.’

  ‘Yes I do.’

  ‘No, sweetheart, you don’t. Maybe you’ve got a little crush—’

  ‘It’s not a fucking crush. I love you.’

  To Jesse’s alarm, she started crying.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he told her. ‘Please. Tell me to leave you alone and I will. Don’t cry.’

  ‘I don’t want you to leave me alone.’ Judy sobbed. ‘Give me a sec. Okay?’

  She put the phone down. When she came back, she was hoarse.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I needed a drink.’

  ‘Yeah, fair enough. Cheers.’

  ‘Jess.’ She gave a meek, broken laugh. ‘Oh gawd, Jess … why?’

  He didn’t say anything, just listened to her breathe.

  ‘Look: I feel it, too,’ Judy admitted. ‘Don’t think I don’t. But I’m not stupid. I’m old enough to be your mother. You’ll change your mind when you see me.’

  ‘I’ve seen you,’ he argued. ‘I like how you look.’

  ‘You’ve seen me three times. You’ve built me up in your mind. You have no idea.’

  He closed his eyes and saw her clear-eyed, cobwebbed beauty; her skin so pale, her hair so fine and light. Her hands. Her mouth.

  ‘I like how you look,’ he repeated. ‘I like everything about you.’

  ‘Jess …’

  ‘Judy.’ He swallowed. ‘Take a compliment, will you?’

  Judy laughed again.

  ‘I don’t know, Jess. I really don’t.’ Her breath snagged. ‘Just come, okay? We’ll figure it out. Please, just come.’

  He booked his ticket the next day.

  For the next couple of weeks, they said ‘I love you’. He gathered gifts: guava jam, honey, seashells, pressed hibiscuses. He joked about losing all his fingers to daydreaming.

  ‘Don’t,’ she protested. ‘I want you here in one piece.’

  He had a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach, like acid eating through cast-iron. In the few hours he slept, his dreams were frantic and crowded, like dreams after a night of hard drinking. When he fucked her in his dreams, it wasn’t like the first time. There were always spectators — guards, suits, men in hi-vis with cans of beer. He struggled to finish.

  Packing, Jesse felt ashamed of his clothes, which only seemed suitable for an island.

  ‘I don’t care about your clothes,’ Judy reassured him. ‘I can’t wait to get you out of them, actually.’

  She made him hard, talking like that. But the pain in his stomach was worse than ever.

  The weekend before his departure, Jesse’s dad closed up shop to take him fishing.

  ‘You look miggy,’ Joe said, noticing Jesse’s loose shorts. ‘Hair’s good, but.’

  Jesse had gotten a haircut, hoping to look more city.

  Baiting his hook was difficult; his hands trembled so much. Waiting for a bite, he couldn’t stop fidgeting. Joe noticed.

  ‘You’re gonna scare all the fish.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Jesse mumbled.

  The sun sparkled on the sea, brought tears to his eyes. He drank beer, hoping it’d settle his tummy, but it only made him queasy. His dad kept looking at him sidelong.

  Jesse cleared his throat. ‘You know how I said I’m staying with a friend in Sydney?’

  ‘Girlfriend?’

  Jesse nodded, wished he could leave it at that. ‘She’s … ulvini.’

  Joe raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Judy Novak,’ Jesse said, throat so tight he couldn’t breathe.

  Joe squinted. ‘Paulina’s mother?’

  Nodding, Jesse stared at the sea, tears curdling in his eyes.

  ‘We’ve been talking. I can’t stop thinking about her. I have to see her.’

  ‘She feels the same?’

  Again, Jesse nodded. Hot tears fell.

  ‘I’m such a fuck-up,’ he heard himself say. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘You nay wanna go?’

  ‘I do. I want her.’ Jesse closed his eyes. ‘I don’t know what to do, Dad.’

  ‘You want my blessing?’

  Jesse covered his face. ‘She’s so beautiful. I’ve never met anyone like her.’

  ‘You want my blessing?’

  ‘No.’ Jesse crumpled. ‘I love her, Dad.’

  Joe nodded, as if this was a fact as evident as the blueness of the sea. Then he grabbed the back of Jesse’s neck and pulled him into a hug. ‘You’re still my kid, okay?’

  Jesse cried like a motherless child.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Judy said, her voice small and frayed. ‘You let me make all these plans.’

  ‘I know. I’m a fuckwit.’

  ‘You let me …’ she stammered. ‘You let me say all these things. You let me make an idiot of myself.’

  ‘You’re not. I’m the idiot. It’s all me.’

  ‘Don’t give me that crap.’ She sobbed. ‘Just tell me the truth: the thought of being with me disgusts you? You thought you could, but when push comes to shove, you just want some pretty young thing.’

  ‘No. It’s not like that.’

  ‘Stop lying. Haven’t you lied enough?’

  She cried and cried, and he felt powerless, like he was watching a truck back over a tricycle. ‘It wasn’t lies. I meant it. Please, don’t cry. You’re making me cry—’

  ‘Good! I hope you cry forever, bastard!’

  Christ, she sounded like Paulina.

  ‘Please, Judy—’

  ‘Don’t say my name.’

  ‘Please. Look. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. It’s just—’

  ‘I’m old. Just say it.’

  ‘It’s not—’ he faltered. ‘You’re older, yeah. But it’s not just that. You’re Paulina’s mum.’

  ‘You wouldn’t’ve looked at me twice if I wasn’t her mum!’

  ‘Judy. What would she think?’

  ‘Don’t you dare use my dead daughter against me. I live with it every day, that she’s gone. Don’t talk to me about what she’d think!’

  ‘Sorry, but … you look like her. It’s too weird.’

  ‘I don’t. She looked much more like her father.’

  ‘You don’t see it. You do.’

  ‘I don’t, but so what if I do? It was my face first. I’m the original.’

  ‘Judy—’

  ‘Stop it. Just stop it.’

  He was quiet until she started crying again; he couldn’t stand her crying.

  ‘I meant it, Judy. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s just, I had this bad feeling. I kept having these bad dreams. I talked to my dad—’

  ‘Why didn’t you talk to me?’

  ‘Cos when I talk to you there’s only you. I can’t think straight.’

  She stopped crying. Softened her voice to a caress.

  ‘One night? Couldn’t we just have one night?’ Judy sniffed. ‘Just to get it out of our systems? We’ll be together, and forget the world, and then we can go our own ways—’

  ‘We can’t, Judy.’

  She cried harder. ‘How could you do this to me? After everything I’ve lost?’

  ‘I’m sorry—’

  ‘Just one night, Jess?’

  ‘Judy.’ He winced. ‘I couldn’t live myself. Even if it was just once. It’s like … incest.’

  ‘Incest?’ She scoffed. ‘I didn’t give birth to you.’

  ‘Incest, or ne
crophilia or something. It’s not right. I dunno how I’d get over it. Please, this is really hard for me—’

  ‘Fine,’ she cut in. ‘I’ll make it easier.’

  ‘Judy—’

  ‘I hope you have a very nice life,’ she said primly. ‘I hope you find everything you’re looking for.’

  Then she slammed down the phone, cutting off her sobs before he could find the words to soothe them.

  TOMBSTONE

  ‘Shopping again? Do you have a second job I don’t know about, Westpac?’

  ‘I’m almost thirty! Time to start taking some pride in my home.’ Paulina waved a catalogue-page in Baz’s face. ‘What d’ya reckon? Cherry blossoms or damask?’

  ‘Damask. But if you rack up a phone bill from my desk, I’m docking your pay.’

  ‘Ooooo, check out this lamp. That’d be cute for reading in bed. I might finally finish Anna Karenina, with a lamp like this.’

  ‘I’m off to St Bartholomew’s. Don’t forget to answer the phone if it rings.’

  ‘Mate, my mum’s a receptionist. Answering phones is in my blood. By the way: you look really nice in your suit, boss. You should wear pants more often. Tell me your size and I’ll pick some out, no probs—’

  Baz drifted out of reception in his funeral attire, shaking his head. Alone, Paulina picked up the phone and dialled.

  ‘Listen: my name’s Paulina and I wanna spend some money. Do youse ship to Fairfolk Island? Fairfolk Island, not “Finland”. Do I sound bloody Finnish to you? Yeah, yeah, I’ll hold. Don’t keep me waiting, but. I’m a working woman.’

  As the hold music rankled her ears, Paulina spun in her chair, watched the mural blur.

  ‘About fucking time!’ she bitched when the chick returned. ‘I was about to call Ikea, ha-ha. You do ship to Fairfolk? Nice one! Yeah, nah, I never heard of Fairfolk either till I moved here. Are youse based in Sydney? Geez, I feel sorry for you, babe. I live in paradise. Only thing is, we don’t have department stores, so if I want the good stuff I have to get it shipped, and the ship only comes like once every six weeks, and it can’t even dock here, there’s this big reef so all the blokes have to go out in their boats and unload it by hand. It’s pretty dangerous! My ex carked it just last week, ha-ha-ha. Nah, don’t apologise! He got what he deserved. He raped me. He bashed me. I almost died cos of him. My head’s still fucked. My face is fucked. I used to be really cute. Now I’m shithouse without makeup. Oi, can I buy makeup from you, too, or is that like a separate department? Yeah, babe. I’ll hold.’