by Tabatha Wood
“Just go!”
“Wait. We can make a run for the back door.”
“Run? You’re joking aren’t you? I’m the size of a bloody planet right now! Have you got your keys?”
“Shit. No. You?”
“They’re in the bedroom. Where is it? Can you still hear it?”
“I’m not sure. I... Oh... Oh... Fuck! It’s behind the door! It’s behind the door! Move! Oh, Christ Almighty, what the .?!”
“Oh my God! What is that?”
“Fuck off! Ow! Get off me!”
“Hit it!”
“I am bloody hitting it! Shut the door!”
“I can’t! Its arse is in the way. Ow! Shit!”
“Get the... Fucking... Just piss off!”
“Here, use this!”
“You bastard! Fuck off! Get out of here! You ugly fucking...! Oh… Okay… I think I got it.”
“Oh, it stinks!”
“Is it dead? Did I kill it?”
“Well... It’s not moving. Eugh. That reeks. Can you smell that? What is it?”
“I don’t know, some kind of... animal? A dog maybe? I don’t know. We need to get it out of the house.”
“Definitely. Are you sure it’s dead?”
“No, I’m not sure; but it’s got a bloody kitchen knife stuck in its bloody head, so I’m guessing it’s bloody likely!”
“Alright, alright! Let me get my keys and we’ll chuck it in the garden, yeah?”
“Okay, hurry up. It’s getting blood all over the new carpet.”
“Hang on. Right, let me come past you and open the door.”
“Okay. Now grab a leg each?”
“Yeah. Okay, just slide it. Fucking hell, it’s heavy!”
“Be careful, maybe you should just let me do this.”
“Don’t be daft. It’s just a dog.”
“Bloody big dog. How did it even get in? Did you maybe leave the garage door open?”
“Oh yeah, great, accuse me of letting it in.”
“I didn't say that, I was just saying that’s how it could have got in. You’ve been a bit forgetful lately, that’s all. Sorry, babe.”
“I have hormones! God. Whatever.”
“Just keep pulling the bloody thing, will you? I want it out.”
“Where are we putting it?”
“Ummm... round the side, near the shed?”
“Why not down the bottom by the compost heap?”
“We can’t carry this thing all the way down the garden.”
“I just don’t want it by the house, that’s all. It smells foul. You know my sense of smell is really strong at the moment.”
“Eugh. Fine. Keep pulling.”
“To the compost heap?”
“Yes! To the compost heap. I’ll deal with it in the morning. I’ll call Animal Control or the council or something.”
“It’s so massive. Shit. I’ve honestly never seen a dog so big.”
“I know. Me neither. Can you get it round that bush?”
“Yeah, nah. Hang on... Okay, shall we try lifting it?”
“Let’s just leave it. You shouldn’t be lifting anything at the moment. It’s dead, it’s not going anywhere.”
“Okay. Just leave it. Oh, you’re bleeding, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just a little scratch or something. She’ll be right. You?”
“Yeah. Same. I’ll put some Savlon on it. Could’ve been a lot worse, eh? The teeth on it.”
“I know, right? Thank God we managed to get rid of it. I mean... Bloody hell! I was not expecting that this evening!”
“A story to tell your sister in the morning, eh? Probably a good job she went out tonight.”
“Too right. Hey, I love you, babe.”
“I love you too. Oh, wow. Look at that. That’s beautiful.”
“Oh, yeah! I didn’t realise it was a full moon tonight.”
Blood Bonds
He hurtled down the gravel track on his bicycle, spewing tiny stones and mud-flecks in his wake. The tyres slipped and skidded as he picked up speed. He put his foot to the floor as he turned the corner.
“Get him! Don’t lose him!”
The skinny kid on the red bike up ahead was getting further and further away from him.
Lewis felt the muscles in his thighs and backside scream at him as he pumped the pedals harder. His lungs felt like they were on fire.
Oliver came up close behind him, shouting as he passed.
“You’re fucking slow! Your Nana could go faster than you!”
“Fuck off, Oli!” he yelled back, but he could hardly catch his breath any more. His chest was thumping, his head dizzy. He had to stop.
He pulled the brakes on the bike and slid to a halt, pulling his backpack off his shoulders as he did so. He reached into the front pocket, took out his blue inhaler and took a puff. It didn’t take long before the Ventolin began to work its magic and make him feel a little better. Oliver and Jack were well ahead of him now. Only Adam was left behind.
The boy stopped, nodded and asked, “Alright?”
“Yeah, nah. Fucking asthma, eh?”
“Yeah. Stinks,” Adam replied, and slapped him playfully on the shoulders.
He shoved the inhaler into the back pocket of his shorts and put his foot back on the bike pedal, ready to push off. He could hear the other boys shouting something back at him from way ahead, but the noise of the sea by the track drowned out their words. It was probably just swearing and piss-taking anyway.
He rode with Adam, slower and more carefully than before, until they caught up with the other two. They had ditched their bikes and were climbing on the jagged red rocks by the edge of the water.
“Seen any seals?” he asked them, as he ditched his own bike.
“One right there. Fucking slow, fat one,” Jack laughed, pointing right at him. He replied simply with an extended middle finger. He knew he wasn’t exactly slim, but pretty much everyone was fat compared to Jack. He was built like a bloody cabbage tree — tall, lanky, with a massive shock of thick ginger hair plonked on the top of his head.
“Wrong time of year for seals,” Adam said, to none of them in particular. He was the only one who hadn’t hurled his bike to the ground; instead he had propped it carefully against the rocks. He was the youngest of the group, but always the most sensible.
Adam took a metal water bottle out his bag and took a large swig before offering it to Lewis. The coldness of it almost triggered another asthma attack.
Oliver had taken his top off, exposing his strong, lean body to the elements. Lewis tried hard not to stare, he always felt awkward and strangely fuzzy around his private parts when he did, but he couldn’t help it. Oliver had always fascinated him. He had known him since they had both started at the same kindy, and he had idolised him almost immediately. At fifteen, Oliver looked just like his father, and had grown almost a head taller than him already. The others still looked like kids compared to him, yet Lewis was the eldest of them all by three months. He felt small and incomplete next to Oliver; unhappy with his soft, round stomach and pale, baby face.
He removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses with the hem of his T-shirt. It was a nervous habit, he knew, one he did almost unconsciously, whenever he wanted to try to avoid thinking about something. It never really worked.
He had experienced a very different childhood to the others, unable to do the physical things they did. He had always been too sick and weak to go out and run, or to swim all day in the ocean. It was only in the past year or so that his mum had let him go out more, now that his health was mostly better.
In the past, Oliver had always made time for him. He had always been there. He’d been there when his body was so weak he could hardly sit up straight in bed. When he needed a machine to help him breathe because his lungs wouldn’t work like they were supposed to. When he had skipped school for weeks at a time because he was too ill to go, Oliver had brought him his class notes so he wouldn’t fall behind. They ha
d spent hours together; talking about comic books, inventing superheroes, and playing with action figures. He thought they would be friends forever.
And then Jack arrived.
Lately, Lewis only ever saw Oli if he tagged along with Jack and Adam. He wondered if he had ever spoken about him with others; if he had ever been the subject of conversation, maybe even ridicule. He wondered, worried even, if Oliver ever regretted all the time he’d spent with him.
He stopped cleaning his glasses, and put them back on.
“So, are we still climbing?” Lewis asked, watching Oliver and Jack jostle with each other on the rocks. He tried hard to ignore that jealous feeling he always had when Oliver seemed to be having more fun with someone else. The feeling that he was losing him. That maybe he was already lost. It didn’t help that he didn’t like Jack that much, and Jack quite clearly didn’t like him. He couldn’t understand what Oliver saw in him, why he wanted to spend his time with someone so crass and loud and mean.
Their plan had been to head out past Owhiro Bay and scale Fly Rock, a popular free-climbing spot. Lewis had been nervous about the idea. He had never climbed before, not even on the brightly coloured walls he had seen in playgrounds when he was a kid, but he hadn’t wanted to miss out. He worried that if he said no too often, Oliver would stop asking him. He didn’t think he could bear that happening.
The other boys acted as if they hadn’t heard him. Maybe they hadn’t, but he felt too self-conscious to ask again. Adam had joined them on the rocks, eating trail mix from a Tupperware box. How come he could get away with doing something like that, Lewis wondered. When he did it, he got the piss taken out of him for weeks for tucking into something healthy.
He scrambled over the crags to join the others.
Oliver and Jack were talking about girls again, specifically Jenny, a girl in their History class. He tried to pretend he wasn’t listening, that he wasn’t secretly repulsed by what they said. It wasn’t even so much the words they used, but more how graphic they could be. He wondered if girls really did look like how Jack described them ‘down there’, if they did even half the things he claimed they did with him. He had little doubt there was at least some truth to the stories, Jack had gone out with multiple girls since he was nine years old. Lewis hadn’t even held hands with anyone who wasn’t a member of his immediate family.
Adam offered him a peanut and he recoiled, moving his whole body sideways away from the offending snack. Adam raised his eyebrows at him, questioning.
“I can’t eat them,” he explained. “Allergies.”
Adam nodded and popped the nut in his mouth.
“Sorry. Didn’t know. Raisin?” Lewis grimaced.
“Nah. Best not. Not if they’ve been near the nuts. Cheers anyway.”
Adam continued eating. Oliver and Jack had gone down to the the water now. It wasn’t really safe to swim off this part, but he knew that wouldn’t stop them. The element of danger would only make it even more appealing.
He felt like the odd one out again. Wondered for the millionth time why they bothered to ask him along and why he ever bothered to go. Maybe his mum was right and he needed some new friends. Friends who didn’t call him a stupid egg when he said he was interested in playing ‘Dungeons & Dragons’. Who would help him when his bike tyre suffered a puncture 5 K’s from home, instead of laughing and riding away. Who wouldn’t judge his taste in music, or insult his hairstyle, or the clothes he chose to wear.
They made him feel like he didn’t fit in, like he would never fit in. But he had never been very good at making or keeping friends, and sometimes it was just easier to stick with what you knew. Even if, deep down, you knew it wasn’t right.
Adam dragged him out of his own thoughts.
“Did you hear about the kid who went missing out here the other week?”
“Another one? What happened this time, fall into the water?”
“No-one knows. Some little kid out with his older sister and her friends. Just disappeared.”
“You reckon they did something to him?”
“No idea. I overheard my Ma talking about it with her sewing group. The sister said she only turned her back for a minute. Kid vanished into thin air. A whole load of people went out trying to find him, but no luck.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Yeah.”
They both fell silent for a moment, thinking. Children and dogs went missing all the time out here. Usually they just ran off and got lost and were found later that day, but every so often one would disappear completely. Never to be seen again.
It made you wonder.
“Maybe he’s been abducted by aliens, eh?” Lewis suggested.
They stared at each other in awkward silence, before finally bursting into laughter. Adam clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah, bro. Aliens!” He chuckled quietly, and popped another nut into his mouth.
Lewis felt the familiar flush of embarrassment creep up the front of his neck. His cheeks began to burn. He turned away from the other boy. What an idiot! What on earth had possessed him to say such a stupid thing? He was lucky Jack hadn’t heard. That would have given him something else to ridicule him for.
He opened his backpack and looked inside; found a plastic bottle of water and a more than half-melted marshmallow Pinky bar. His mother didn’t approve of him eating those kinds of things, tried to keep him on an organic and macrobiotic diet. She said it would help with his allergies and intolerances, but all it really seemed to do was make him fart. She could never understand why his eczema often flared up, his sinuses blocked, or why he never lost any weight. He would never admit that when out of her sight, he would gorge himself on all of the things she tried to keep from him. Now he was finally allowed out on his own, he could make many secret trips to the dairy to stock up on forbidden lollies.
He sat down on the rocks next to Adam, feeling the sharp edges stab into his backside. Oliver and Jack came over to join them, and Jack grabbed at his backpack with a nasty laugh. Lewis started to protest, but tailed off quickly. There was no point making a fuss, it would just make Jack be even more of a dick to him. He ripped open the drawstring and rummaged around inside the bag. Lewis knew it was always best to let him get on with it, deal with the mess he made afterwards. He hid the Pinky bar behind his back.
“You got any sammies?”
“Yeah.”
“Not shitty rabbit food ones again?”
“Maybe.”
“Fuckssake. How do you ever get to be the size of you if don’t ever eat any proper food?”
He searched in the bag again and found an unopened packet of salt and vinegar chips.
“Ah. Sweet.” Jack ripped open the plastic bag and shoved a handful in his mouth. He grinned, mouth wide, showing shards of the potato sticks as if they were vampire teeth.
Lewis laughed, but only because the others did. He had been saving those.
Jack tossed the bag back, and Lewis shoved the chocolate bar to the bottom before the other boy could see. Maybe he could save that, at least. He felt into the side pocket for an apple which he knew would be there. Jack never took the healthy stuff. The ‘rabbit food’. He took a bite, and tried to enjoy it. It was soft and floury and he hated it, but he didn’t want to throw it away. If he ate the sandwiches now, Jack would probably start up with the insults again, and he didn’t think he had the energy to deal with that. He chewed pieces of the apple slowly, fantasising about shoving one whole down Jack’s throat.
Oliver reached into his own bag and pulled out a packet of Dunhills and a lighter.
“You want a smoke?” he asked Jack. The boy nodded and he tossed him a cigarette.
“Ads?”
“Yeah, nah. Ma’ll slap me if I go back reeking of it again.”
Oliver shrugged.
“Lew?”
Lewis paused, aware that Jack was watching him with interest. Adam had declined and it was no big deal, but he probably wouldn’t get away with it. Yet anothe
r thing Jack could take the piss out of him for. On the other hand, his mum would probably kill him if she knew he had been smoking again.
The first time he had smoked was when Oliver had just turned thirteen. They’d both been awkward, and he hadn’t even properly inhaled, but his mum had found out and she’d had a good many words to say to him about it. She had made him feel guilty, and dirty, and disappointed in himself. It was an utterly stupid thing to do, especially with his asthma.
Oliver held out the Dunhill towards him, all he had to do was take it. He watched Jack light his, inhale deeply, and blow a thick plume of smoke in his direction. To hell with it, if his mother noticed, he’d just have to come up with some excuse. He couldn’t let himself look weak. Not in front of Jack.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, reached out, and took the cigarette. Oliver held the flame of the lighter to the end for him. He sucked gently, trying to make sure it was properly lit. He knew that if he inhaled too hard he would cough. There was no way he was going to cough in front of everyone. He held the smoke in his mouth, trying to be as casual as he could, before blowing it slowly away. He was aware of Jack watching him; the boy’s lip curled for a fraction of a second, and his eyes narrowed, before he turned his attention back to Oliver.
“Where’d you get these?”
“Swiped them from my dad,” Oliver grinned. “He never knows how many he has anyway. He’ll probably just think my mum took them.”
Oliver lived with his overworked father, harried mother and three younger sisters, in what was really only a two bedroom house, a few streets over from Lewis. His dad had hung a large curtain to section off a space in the front room for him, but privacy and peace and quiet were still an issue. He slept with earplugs in every night. His baby sister was only nine months old, and he spent as little time at home as he could get away with. Whenever his mother wasn’t expecting him to help around the house and do chores. Until Jack came along, Oliver had spent most of his time at Lewis’s house. Now it was hardly ever.
Lewis shifted his weight on the rocks and winced as his hand caught on something sharp. A thin, red line of blood swelled on his palm. He licked the skin, tasting copper, and wiped it dry on his shorts. He started to shake slightly, and felt the colour start to drain out of his face. He took deep calming breaths, telling himself to stay conscious. He had always hated the sight of blood, hated how it made him feel weak and out of control. If his mother were here she would have had some disinfectant and probably some Elastoplast. She would be reminding him of the dangers of tetanus and septicaemia, fussing over him and patching up his wound. She always fussed so much.