by Kylie Ladd
For all that, though, Charlie still seemed to spend nearly all her days at home, mainly watching TV, curled up on the couch with Blue. Britta dropped by most afternoons on her way home, and Dan could see that Charlie enjoyed that, but she showed no other signs of resuming her life.
The idea had come to him that night, when he was lying in bed. Tic Tac. Of course. The only things that had seemed to bring any light back into Charlie’s eyes when she first got home—even now, really—were animals: the chickens, Blue, Skittles and Aura before she’d let them escape. Surely Tic Tac would trump all of those, would really get her off the couch and away from The Vampire Diaries, which had replaced Glee. Hannah had suggested a number of times that Charlie come with her to pony club, and Charlie had refused, but this was different. She didn’t have to ride again—he could understand why she wouldn’t want to do that—but just seeing Tic Tac, being with him, patting him or grooming him or whatever it was they did, that would help, wouldn’t it?
‘The horse whisperer, hey?’ Hannah had said when he’d told her his plan.
‘Huh?’ Dan had answered, not understanding, but she’d laughed and kissed him and told him he was brilliant. They’d track Tic Tac down—Gia would have a contact—and her brother could drive them all out to visit. They’d take apples and carrots and a box of sugar cubes. Tic Tac loved sugar cubes, Hannah had said, though you could only feed him some when Gia wasn’t watching, or she’d give you hell about ruining his teeth. It would be a surprise, Dan decided, encouraged by her enthusiasm. They wouldn’t tell Charlie, so she couldn’t say no. They wouldn’t tell his mum either, for the same reason. Maybe they could even blindfold Charlie, so she’d have no idea until they got there, though Hannah had very sensibly pointed out that that wasn’t a great idea before kissing him again.
And here they were, just a week later, on a bright September Saturday. The air was still cool but the sky was blue and wild jonquils nodded in clumps along the side of the road. Hannah’s brother Russ had been listening to one of the AFL finals on the car radio, but he turned it down as the GPS issued an instruction. In 400 metres, turn left at the intersection. Tic Tac’s new owners had been only too happy for Charlie to visit once she’d explained the situation, Gia had told him. Better yet, they would leave the horse in a paddock at the front of their property, so that Charlie could see him without having to interact with any strangers. There was a gate, but she could climb over it if she wanted to, or just stay on the other side of the fence. Dan had thanked Gia for organising it all and her voice over the phone had grown gruff and deeper. I’d love to see her too, if she’s up to it, Gia had said, and Dan had promised to ask her. But later. That would come later, if today went OK. You have reached your destination, the GPS announced, and Dan’s stomach lurched.
‘We’re here,’ he announced redundantly, then opened his door and got out. Hannah was already at Charlie’s, leaning in to coax her from the car. Dan scanned the large paddock in front of him. A few trees, a small dam, but no horse. His heart sank.
‘You sure this is the place?’ he asked Russ. Russ shrugged.
‘It’s the address you gave me.’
Dan turned and walked towards the fence. A bellbird chimed. The sun was warm on his back, gathering strength. And over there, in the distance, amid a stand of eucalypts—was that a grey shape, or just his eyes playing tricks? Hannah was suddenly beside him, tugging Charlie along with one hand, a halter that he didn’t know she’d brought in the other.
‘There he is!’ she exclaimed. She spun towards Charlie. ‘Tic Tac. We’ve come to visit Tic Tac.’
His sister’s face went blank, and Dan held his breath. Was she going to cry? Flee? Have some sort of flashback?
‘Do you want to come catch him with me?’ Hannah asked her. ‘I brought sugar cubes.’
Charlie shook her head.
‘Sure? OK, you stay here with Dan. I’ll bring him to you.’ She scrambled over the gate before Charlie could protest and loped across the grass towards Tic Tac, one thick dark plait bouncing on her shoulders. Dan and Charlie watched her progress in silence.
‘She brought a saddle, you know,’ said Russ, materialising next to them. Dan started. He’d thought Russ would stay in the car, listening to the footy. He still felt vaguely embarrassed every time he saw him—the condoms—though he seemed like a good guy.
‘A saddle?’ he echoed.
Russ nodded. ‘It’s in the boot. She made me drive her out to pony club last night so she could pick it up. A bridle too, I think. Something with lots of straps and buckles, anyway.’ He leant against a post. ‘It’ll be great when she gets her own licence.’
‘I don’t want to ride him,’ Charlie said. They were the first words she’d spoken since she left the car.
Russ’s eyes followed Hannah. She was approaching the trees now, walking slowly with one palm held out. ‘You don’t have to,’ he said, without looking away. ‘Maybe Hannah thought she’d have a ride. Or Dan.’
‘Dan doesn’t ride,’ said Charlie.
‘Oh, yeah? I’ve seen him. I picked them both up one day from the national park.’ Russ smiled slyly. ‘I mean, he doesn’t ride well, but he does ride.’ He winked at Dan.
‘Really?’ Charlie asked, turning to look at him.
‘Yeah,’ said Dan. ‘A bit. Hannah taught me, while you were missing. We looked for you together, on the horses. It was the only way to cover all the bush, she said, so I had to learn.’
‘What did you ride? A pony club horse? Which one?’ Her eyes were brighter than he’d seen them in ages. Behind her, away across the paddock, Hannah gently slipped the halter over Tic Tac’s head and patted his neck when he didn’t protest.
‘A black one. Shiloh, I think? And a brown and white one. A paint, I think Hannah called him. I can’t remember his name.’
‘Did he have a funny eye? One that sort of turned up?’
‘He did,’ Dan said. ‘And he was little. Much smaller than the one that Hannah rode. I felt a bit stupid on him at first, but he had a lot of go.’
‘That’s Banjo,’ Charlie said. ‘I used to ride him, before Mum and Dad leased Tic Tac. He’s a good jumper.’
Dan laughed. ‘I’ll take your word for it. I haven’t done any jumping.’
‘You should. It’s really fun.’ She stared down at the ground, kicking at a clod of earth. ‘I was telling Jo about it. The psychologist. Dad’s psychologist.’ She smiled. ‘That it’s like flying. That sometimes when I was gone, when I was in the stable I’d have this dream that Tic Tac and I were going over the jumps in the arena, just practising in front of Gia and Hannah and all the others, but then after a while they all melted away and the jumps did too, the triple and the wall, but we just kept jumping, over and over, until it was all one continuous jump and we were soaring through the sky.’ She tugged at a strand of hair behind her ear. It was starting to grow back, Dan noticed. ‘I guess that sounds sort of stupid.’
‘Nah,’ said Dan. He paused. ‘Do you want to have a ride today? We’ll all be here. It’ll be fine.’
Charlie shook her head. ‘No. Not yet.’
‘What about you watch your brother ride, then?’ Russ suggested.
‘No way!’ Dan protested.
‘That would be great,’ Charlie said, looking up, beaming. ‘Good idea.’
Dan groaned. ‘I’m rubbish, I really am. You’ll laugh.’
‘I need a laugh,’ Charlie said. ‘Don’t you think so, Russ?’ He started to reply, but Hannah was suddenly before them, leading a well-fed Tic Tac, who nickered as they approached. Was it just Dan’s imagination or did he recognise Charlie? She didn’t cross the gate, but she moved closer to it.
‘Tic Tac,’ she said, reaching out to touch him through the metal bars. ‘Ticcy. Oh, I missed you.’
Tears came to his eyes, and Dan had to look away, to the ground, to the base of the fence post that he was standing by. It was sunk in bare earth, in shadow, but little grasses cracked through, and they were gree
n with life.
He knew Charlie wouldn’t come back again. Why would she, after that one time, when her words had flown all over him like spit and her eyes were blue flames wanting to burn him alive? He knew she wouldn’t, but he’d still hoped. You’ve got to keep hoping, Col. You never give up. His mum had said that to him after the accident, over and over, while he was trying to learn to walk again and feed himself and put his own clothes on, even when his fingers fumbled with the buttons and they could never find the hole. You’ve got to keep hoping. But what if his mum was wrong? He had hoped all the time when she got sick, hoped and hoped and hoped until his heart was heavy with hoping, he was worn out from it, but it hadn’t helped. She still died. He forgot so much but he never forgot that. His mum in hospital, her hair all gone and her face just bones wrapped in skin. He’d stayed with her, that last week, sleeping in the chair next to her bed and then on a little mattress that one of the nurses had brought in, he’d stayed and held her hand and she’d tried to stay with him too. He knew it was for him that she didn’t want to die. But who will look after Col? She’d groaned it to a nurse when she thought he was asleep and the nurse had shushed and soothed her and made her lie down again and said there were things that could be arranged and his mum had said That’s what I’m afraid of but then he must have gone to sleep for real and when he woke up again neither of them said anything about it. And later—a day, maybe two—she died, just stopped living while it was only him in the room with her and he didn’t call anyone because what would be the point just sat with her as long as he could, him and Mum, Mum and him, just like it had been ever since the accident, until a cleaner came in and then rushed out again and that was it really.
Those nurses had been nice they’d let him stay with his mum the rest of that day and the night too before they had to take her away and they’d given him dinner on a tray even though he wasn’t a patient, not really. But now he was a patient and these nurses didn’t like him at all. He could tell by the way their lips clamped down when they had to come near him or the one that always put his water jug just a bit out of reach and bumped his burned arm when he tried to get it. One of the doctors had said he was mending well and the nurse had stood there nodding and smiling beside him like someone at a party but the moment the doctor had gone she’d hissed at him that now he’d have to go to jail. He’d got so scared that he’d done a wee right there in the bed and that made her even angrier and she’d said that jail was too good for him. He hadn’t thought about jail. He thought he’d just keep getting better until they let him go home again but jail was a big thought it took over all his other thinking, even thinking about Charlie. After a few days he felt so scared that he asked the policeman who came in sometimes to talk to him if it was true that he was going to jail. The old policeman who was polite and looked tired, not the young one who wore jewellery and smelled like the perfume counter at David Jones. That was one of his mum’s sayings, not his, he’d never even been to the perfume counter at David Jones but he bet she would have said it if she was there smelling that policeman too. The old policeman didn’t smell of anything, he just rubbed his eyes and put his pen down and said Probably not jail. So that was good and he felt better after that though he sort of wondered if he should have asked more questions.
But he still didn’t feel good about Charlie. He thought about her all the time, especially now he didn’t have to think about jail, he thought about how good her hair felt and how happy she’d looked when she was riding her pony and the way she’d leaned over him that one time in hospital and told him I hate you I hate you I wish that you’d died. That was the main remembering. That was what he couldn’t forget. It made him so sad that he tried to think of other things, like Blue and if he liked living with Charlie and if he could get him back when he was finished with hospital. But probably not because he didn’t know where Charlie lived and it wasn’t like anyone was going to tell him and maybe Blue should just stay there anyway, if he’d got used to it. But he liked dogs so it would be good to get another one but he didn’t know how. You couldn’t get them at Woolworths and that was the only place he went and he only had his card, not real money, and thinking all that made his brain hurt so he stopped and then he was back to thinking about Charlie again. He wished she didn’t hate him. He knew he shouldn’t have locked her up but it was only so she’d be his friend and stay with him because he was so lonely and he wanted someone to talk to. And he’d looked after her, he had, he bought her chocolate and he let her take showers whenever she liked and there was just that one thing but it was only once and he’d never do it again, not ever, and he’d said sorry he was sure he had. He tried not to remember that, how she’d screamed and hit at him and the look that was in her eyes, he put his hands across his own eyes as if that could stop him seeing it. One of them still didn’t see right but that was OK that was fair. He’d got hurt too, hadn’t he, so they were equal.
When he could breathe properly again he took his hands away. His heart was still thumping a bit though and it was lucky he wasn’t attached to the machines anymore because they would have gone beep beep beep and the nurses would wobble in and scold him. But he sort of missed the machines too and the sounds they made, it was like having someone else in the room with him rather than alone all the time. Just thinking that made a tear come out of his good eye, that he was all alone even though the hospital was full of hundreds of people, hundreds and hundreds, all working and talking and being with each other and not one of them being with him.
He tried to go to sleep but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the ceiling until the lights in the hall outside came on and the trolley that was dinner clanked in and out of his room and the nurses gradually got quieter and the lights in the hall went out again. When it was very quiet one of the nurses came in and shone her torch in his face and asked him if he needed a tablet for pain or to go to sleep and he shook his head even though it was very nice of her. All he really wanted was not to be alone but she had to go again, she had other patients to check on, and she closed the door behind her. His mum wouldn’t have left him alone. If she was still alive she’d be there with him, sitting next to his bed like she had after the accident, all day and all night too. He wished she was there now, he wished it more than he’d ever wished for anything, even Charlie. Suddenly it was like his mind went clear for once and he worked out what he could do. If his mum couldn’t come and be with him then he could go to her. He sat up in bed, pulling at the sheet. It was dark, but he didn’t turn on the light because that might make the nurse come back and she would stop him or call out and next he’d know he’d be in handcuffs again, chained to the rail of his bed. The thought made him work faster. It was hard with his burnt arm but lucky he was good with hands, at least before the accident, and he knew how to do knots, all those times he’d tied up Blue. And Charlie, he remembered. He’d tied her up too, and the shame made him shake, made him clumsy and his heart raced again like footsteps running, coming to get him, pounding closer and closer behind him. Charlie wished he was dead. She’d told him so. It was the least he could do.
There was a silver metal triangle hanging over his bed, up quite high. It was to help people sit up, he knew that because he’d used it himself when he first came to hospital and his arm was in a sling, but then it got a bit better so the nurses had wound the triangle back up. It was still there though. He strained to make it out now, squinting into the gloom. If he stood up he could reach it, and it looked strong enough. Getting to his feet was hard and made his head all dizzy, like a merry-go-round, but he managed it and stood there, clutching the sheet, until it slowed down and stopped. The sheet went through the triangle and he hoped it would hold but he was good with his hands and he knew how to do knots and the triangle could be pushed out a bit, away from the bed. He hadn’t expected it but that was good so all there was to do now was to put the other knot over his head. It was tight and he’d forgotten about the bandages on his ear so he stopped and tugged them off and
there was something on his hands blood or pus and the skin was all like jelly, oh it stung how it stung but it didn’t matter nothing mattered anymore and he pulled the sheet down around his neck and closed his eyes and there was his mum smiling and saying Hello, Col, I’ve missed you and he took a big step out to meet her.
It felt strange to be all alone. Good strange, though, not the bad sort. Charlie stretched out her arms and legs experimentally. The bed seemed smaller than it used to, and that was a bit strange too. Maybe she’d grown? Or maybe she’d gotten used to her parents’ queen bed, so of course her own single was going to feel a bit cosier now. She pulled Crush to her face and closed her eyes. Crush was the same. Same smell, same feel, same rough patch towards the back of his shell where she’d once spilled nail polish on him. She ran her fingertips over it, then hugged him tighter. It had been a spur of the moment decision, sleeping in her own room, her own bed, the first time since before she’d gone missing. Missing. That was how she preferred to think of it, now she’d started thinking of it at all. Missing—not stolen, or taken, or that horrible word, abducted. Just missing, like a shoe fallen down behind a couch, waiting to be claimed, like the DVD of her life had skipped, or blacked out briefly, then continued to play. That was what she would tell people, she and Jo had decided, if they asked her what had happened to her. That she was missing, but now she was back. She didn’t owe them anything more.