Welcome To Wherever You Are

by John Marrs

  He briefly considered doing the right thing, but his dislike for Matty and Declan was so intense that he changed his mind and walked towards the plastic bag of rubbish Peyk had cleared earlier. He was ready to take the cash and toss the wallet away when he noticed a newspaper cutting protruding from the bills. Curious, he took it out, and raised his eyebrows when he read it.

  ‘Nail, meet coffin,’ he said out loud, and punched the air.

  CHAPTER 27

  ‘Jim Morrison was my first crush when I was a girl,’ smiled Jane, pointing towards artist Rip Cronk’s 20-foot-high mural of a shirtless Doors front man emblazoned upon a wall.

  ‘I must only have been six or seven when I saw him in one of my sister’s music magazines, and he made me weak at the knees,’ Jane continued.

  Savannah lifted her head to look at the painting and, although she couldn’t name even one of The Doors songs, she recognised the band’s name from what her father called The Forbidden List – a four-page document of musicians and groups that if listened to, would be tantamount to allowing Satan directly into your heart.

  ‘One of the reasons I came to Venice Beach was to see this mural and where Jim moved to when he and Ray finished university and formed the group.’

  Savannah struggled to match Jane’s enthusiasm on the subject, but she was coming to enjoy the company of her new roommate. Jane took a photograph of the mural on an archaic pre-Internet mobile phone, before they made their way a couple of blocks back towards the boardwalk. Savannah linked arms with Jane; it had been a long time since she’d felt so comfortable with a virtual stranger. And the more time they spent together, the more she felt her guard slipping.

  Frequently they paused to watch the street performers, and now a peculiar duo caught their attention; they consisted of an elderly, wrinkled, white woman in a pink spiky wig, yellow plastic sunglasses and a bikini, and a very tall black man wearing just leopard-skin swimming trunks and a sombrero. He tunelessly plucked at three strings on a banjo while she banged a tambourine and hopped on one foot.

  ‘Do you think they’re a couple?’ asked Savannah.

  ‘I’m not even sure they’re human,’ joked Jane, ‘but I love that they’ve found each other. Like-minded souls can find each other in the most unusual of circumstances.’

  Neither Nicole nor Jane recognised the song the clueless entertainers were attempting to play or understood the point of their act, but they admired their tenacity and dropped some loose change in their collection box.

  ‘You mentioned your sister last night – Roseanna, was it?’ Jane asked.

  Savannah nodded. ‘I miss her, we were pretty close. It’s funny you bring her up because she turns sixteen today.’

  ‘You could always call her, you know. Just to wish her a happy birthday and let her know you’re okay.’

  ‘I’ve thought about it, but I’m scared of what my dad would do to her if he found out.’

  ‘He can’t be that bad, can he?’

  ‘You have no idea what he’s capable of, Jane,’ Savannah replied, and a flashback of a mallet striking Michael’s hands and forehead made her shiver.

  ‘Six months is a long time. You don’t know if the situation at home has changed since you left.’

  Savannah was convinced it hadn’t, and the tremendous guilt she’d felt for leaving her sister behind to fend for herself suddenly returned.

  CHAPTER 28

  ‘I can’t find it,’ said Matty anxiously, the contents of his backpack strewn across the floor of their room.

  ‘It’s got be somewhere,’ replied Declan, stripping both beds of sheets and pillowcases and looking under mattresses.

  ‘Yeah, big help, everything is somewhere.’

  ‘Calm your jets, man, it’s only got the money we made from pawning your necklace.’

  ‘It’s got the newspaper story inside as well.’

  Declan stopped what he was doing and turned to face Matty. ‘What?’ he said slowly. ‘That’s why you’re so jittery?’

  ‘I thought you knew?’

  ‘No, I didn’t fecking know! You idiot!’

  ‘I know, I know, you don’t have to say it.’

  ‘But I’m going to, because I told you to get rid – if anyone here reads that, we’re shafted!’

  ONE YEAR EARLIER – DUBLIN AIRPORT

  Matty and Declan’s box-fresh rucksacks disappeared along the conveyor belt as they left the Lufthansa check-in desk and walked back towards Matty’s parents.

  ‘You’ve got everything: your passports, boarding cards, wallets?’ fussed Matty’s mother. ‘You have that bag, don’t you? Make sure you have that bag.’

  ‘Yes, I have it. Now don’t worry, I’ve been abroad before,’ Matty reassured his mother. But it failed to placate her, and she promptly burst into tears. Matty’s father offered her a hug.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mammy, you’ve known all along I have to leave on my own terms.’

  ‘I know,’ added Mrs O’Keefe, ‘but you’re still our little boy and we’re going to miss you so much.’

  ‘Let him be, Deirdre,’ interrupted her husband. ‘He knows what he’s doing. Take care of yourself, son.’

  His teary-eyed parents hugged Matty, then Declan, and the boys began to walk towards the departure lounge. Suddenly Matty turned towards them.

  ‘You did a good job, you know. With me. You did a good job. Thank you.’

  Matty didn’t wait for their reaction or a reply as his own tears began to roll down his cheeks and land on the lapels of his jacket. Instead he turned around and continued to walk as Declan placed a supporting arm around his friend’s shoulder.

  ‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ he said.

  Matty shook his head.

  ‘Not a chance.’

  *

  The air conditioning blew cold and noisily above the drone of the plane’s engines as it taxied down the runaway towards its take-off slot.

  Declan stared through his window at the country he was consigning to his past, at least for the foreseeable future. There was little about it he would miss; certainly not the parents who’d brought him into that world. His mother had moved to Shannon three years earlier and Declan had lost count of the number of times she’d texted him her new pay-as-you-go phone numbers. She had stuck to her word and attempted to stay in touch with her sons, but Declan wasn’t prepared to listen to her apologies for putting alcohol above her family’s needs. Then when he’d finally decided to grasp her olive branch, her number no longer existed.

  Declan and his father navigated their home in different directions and at different times of the day. His dad was a nocturnal man, preferring to drink by night and sleep by day. So Declan accepted the mantle of role model to Finn and Michael, his two younger brothers, and in doing so, often became the barrier between them and their father’s drunken fists.

  Hours after saying goodbye to them, and he was already feeling immense guilt for leaving them behind. But he took comfort that they were both now working at the warehouse depot, and from his ill-gotten post office gains, he’d paid the deposit and three months’ rent money for their new flat over the curry house and away from their father.

  The rest of their booty he and Matty planned to use for their own hedonistic gratification. By the end of that day, there’d be sand between their toes as they watched the sun set at Ibiza’s legendary Café Del Mar before hitting the clubs. Then Spain, Italy, France, Germany, Sweden, Thailand, South America and North America would follow, God willing. After that, well, who knew, as they would most likely be living on borrowed time.

  Yes, Declan thought, there was much to be excited about once their plane rose above the asphalt, but there was an equal amount to feel uneasy over too. Sometimes he wondered if uneasy was a feeling he would ever shake off.

  ‘Oh, fuck.’ Matty interrupted Declan’s thoughts. ‘Oh, fuck,’ he repeated.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Look.’

  Matty passed him a copy of th
e Irish Times he’d picked up at W.H. Smiths in the airport.

  Declan recognised a familiar face in a picture the size of a postage stamp.

  ‘Postmaster dies after bungled armed robbery,’ read the headline.

  ‘What the . . .’ gasped Declan, and continued to read.

  ‘A man died yesterday following an armed robbery at his post office a week ago. John Wallace, 68, who ran Navan’s only post office for 36 years, collapsed with a suspected heart attack as two robbers attacked his premises. A garda spokesman said: “We believe the two men might have been captured on CCTV outside a nearby newsagents. If that is the case, we hope to quickly identify them before they strike again.”’

  ‘Dec, we killed him,’ said Matty quietly, and Declan closed the newspaper. ‘We killed someone.’

  Declan remained silent, stared at the seat in front of him and gripped the arm rest. After a minute or so, he spoke. ‘It was an accident, Matty. If he had a weak ticker, it could have happened at any time to anyone. We have to forget about him.’

  Matty stared at Declan and didn’t reply.

  ‘Matty, I said we need to forget about him, okay?’

  Matty nodded reluctantly and Declan put his headphones on, chose a Ministry of Sound playlist and pumped up the volume to drown out his own uneasiness.

  He didn’t hear Matty tear the story out of the paper, fold it neatly and place it in his wallet.

  *

  TODAY

  By the time their room had been searched from top to bottom, it resembled a Midwestern state trailer park after a tornado.

  Declan stood in the centre of the room, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief.

  ‘I cannot believe you’d be that stupid. When did you have your wallet last?’

  Matty closed his eyes and retraced his steps from the night before. ‘The lounge!’ he suddenly blurted out. ‘When we got back from the beach, I stopped off to buy some gum and came straight back in here for the party.’

  ‘Then let’s go find it.’

  But as they opened their bedroom door, Tommy was standing on the other side with the missing article in his hand.

  ‘Looking for this?’ he smiled.

  CHAPTER 29

  Despite Ruth’s promise to herself that she wouldn’t fall asleep again until she was sure Zak was safe and sound, it took the horn of his SUV to wake her up from an unplanned siesta.

  Zak glared at her from behind the wheel of his vehicle as the gates to his property opened and he screeched to a halt. Ruth’s initial relief that he was still alive gave way to fear when Zak leapt from the vehicle and charged towards her, chest puffed out and nostrils flared.

  ‘Why are you still here, bitch?’ he yelled, not giving her a chance to respond. ‘This is your last chance to get the fuck off my street!’

  Ruth swallowed hard, terrified of Zak’s aggression. And when she was too scared and confused to reply, he pulled out his phone and began to dial a number before walking back towards his house. Suddenly she burst into life.

  ‘No, please don’t go, Zak, I just want to talk to you,’ Ruth pleaded. ‘I’ve seen all your films and interviews and you seem like such a good guy.’

  ‘I’m an actor; I get paid to be nice, and you ain’t paid me shit . . . Hi, I’d like to report an intruder who’s harassing me . . . yeah, it’s Zak Stanley and I’m on Vista Del Mar . . . yeah, as soon as possible, thank you.’

  ‘But I know you love animals and so do I. I nursed a sick dog but he . . . um . . . died,’ Ruth added, desperately.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ replied Zak, genuinely baffled.

  ‘We could be friends, I know we could.’

  ‘Us? You and me? Ha! You turn up at my house uninvited, and you think we’re gonna be buddies? Life doesn’t work like that.’

  ‘But it can! Look, that film you were in, Baby Baby, the bit where you say, “I know this is the first time we’ve met, but I don’t ever want to lose sight of you again . . .” – that’s how I feel about you.’

  ‘It’s just a fucking film! And that’s the trouble with people like you – you can’t see the difference between what’s on a screen and what’s real life. So you come to my home and harass me and think we’ll be besties? Fool.’

  ‘Please, Zak, please, I know you’ll like me if you give me a chance, I’m a good person, I really am.’

  ‘Look at you – you’re . . . shit, I don’t even know what you are. What’s with your clothes? You stink of BO, I can smell your breath from here. And that hair! Have you ever washed it? I’ve dated Miley, Ariana, Iggy . . . Tell me, how would I explain you to my friends?’

  Ruth paused for a moment. ‘We don’t have to tell anyone! We could be secret friends.’

  Zak paused to take stock of the latest in a long line of obsessive fans, but none had been as pitiable as Ruth. In his mind, he’d tried diplomacy, he’d attempted to be polite, and he’d used the cruel-to-be kind approach, but nothing had worked. So when Ruth grabbed his arm, there was only one option left open to him. He swung around sharply and grabbed Ruth by the throat, pushing his face into hers.

  ‘Listen, bitch, for the last time, I ain’t interested in you or being your pal,’ he hissed. ‘Now get your stupid fat ass out of here before I do something you’re gonna regret.’

  Then he shoved Ruth to the pavement and removed his wallet from his pocket. ‘If I was poor you wouldn’t want me, would you? For people like you it’s all about getting a piece of my fame and my money.’

  He threw a handful of $50 and $100 bills at Ruth and she wept as the money and her dreams landed in the gutter.

  ‘There, you don’t need anything from me now, right?’

  The last time Ruth had heard those words, they had come from her father’s lips. She promised herself she would never hear them again from someone she loved, and that included Zak.

  Zak turned his head when he noticed Ruth’s shadow against his gatepost, but before he could react, she plunged her knitting needles deep into his throat.

  CHAPTER 30

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ began Matty, and he and Declan froze, staring wide-eyed at Tommy and the wallet.

  ‘What I think,’ began Tommy, ‘is that you two robbed a post office, literally scared an elderly man to death and now you’re on the run.’

  ‘Prove it,’ added Declan.

  ‘I don’t have to,’ continued Tommy. ‘The story might not name you, but I bet the police back home would be interested in knowing your whereabouts.’

  Matty and Declan looked at other, then at Tommy, and said nothing.

  ‘Lost for words, boys? You usually have so much to say.’

  Declan cleared his throat. ‘Cut to the chase, what are you gonna do?’

  Tommy grinned. ‘What am I going to do, or what have I already done?’

  ‘Tell me you haven’t,’ said Matty.

  ‘Hmm, I could, but I wouldn’t want to lie to you.’

  Tommy instinctively turned his head and lifted his arm up to protect his face when Declan lurched towards him, pinning his arm under Tommy’s neck.

  ‘You bastard, you’ve got no idea, have you?’

  ‘I know that you think you can get away with anything if you turn on the Irish charm,’ said Tommy, his windpipe throbbing under Declan’s chunky forearm. ‘Well, you can’t anymore.’

  ‘Leave him, Dec, it’s not worth it,’ interrupted Matty, ‘Let’s just get our stuff and go, eh?’

  ‘I’d hurry if I were you,’ added Tommy, ‘it won’t take long for that nice officer I spoke to at Dundalk garda station to call his colleagues in the LAPD.’

  Declan punched Tommy in the stomach, causing him to fold in half and gasp for air. Then he grabbed Tommy’s T-shirt and reached his arm back, ready to whack him again, but Matty yanked him backwards to stop him.

  ‘Dec, please, don’t.’

  Declan hesitated and dropped Tommy back on the floor.

  ‘You might not like the way we
carry ourselves, but I’ll tell you this for nothing. We’d rather be who we are than you – a petty, spiteful little shite who’s terrified of losing his place as King Dick in a poorhouse.’

  ‘You have no clue what I went through before I made this trip,’ gasped Tommy. ‘And do you think I like dressing up as a fucking hotdog just so I can afford to be here? I didn’t just take a short cut and steal.’

  ‘Did it ever cross your stupid little mind why we did it?’ spat Declan.

  ‘No, please tell me, I can’t wait to hear your excuse for this one.’

  ‘Because Matty’s . . . Matty’s . . .’ Declan’s voice trailed off into silence.

  ‘Because I’m dying, Tommy.’

  Tommy paused and looked at them both. His initial reaction was to assume they were lying, until Declan punched a hole in the plasterboard wall.

  CHAPTER 31

  Savannah made the most of the quietness of the near-empty beach.

  Instead of sprawling across the sand, today’s tourists were distracted by the sights and sounds of an Indian music and food festival spread across the boardwalk. Savannah had already been caught up amongst the throng of performers, and smiled at their brightly coloured saris and dark hats decorated with white flowers. She’d gasped as acrobats hurled themselves up in the air from stilts others held shoulder high, twisting in the sky and landing with precision back on the inch-wide footholds. And she’d gratefully accepted a paper plate crammed with food samples that she ate as she walked across the beach towards the shore. Even from a distance she could hear the singing of traditional Indian folk tunes.

  Savannah sat on a blanket with her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees, watching as the tide brought the same piece of sea kelp in and out, over and over again.

  Having been raised so far away from the coast, only now could she appreciate how freeing it was to be near to what felt like an infinite body of water that could sweep a person in any direction for as long as it desired. For months, Savannah had lived from day to day, keeping one eye on the present and one eye over her shoulder, waiting for the past to catch up with her. But that afternoon, she allowed herself to consider a future that didn’t involve raising a child on a bedrock of fear.