by Bowes, K T
“When?” Logan asked and looked away, alerting Hana’s suspicious mind.
“When the biology teacher took me into the gully to see him. Where was he really?”
“Oh then,” Logan answered, running his hand through his hair. “In his assessment, where I told you he’d be. So how’s it going with Tama and his new squeeze? Do you trust them on their own?” Logan strived to change the subject far too eagerly, making Hana not want to at all.
“They’re fine; he promised he’d behave. What other time did you think I was asking about James?” Hana asked, seeing guilt work its way across Logan’s face. “Has he been somewhere?”
Logan shook his head and his eyes told her not to push but it turned her into a dog gnawing a bone; the opposite of his intention. Hana shifted onto the couch next to him. “I’ll tickle it out of you then,” she threatened, slipping her fingers between his knees and squeezing at the sensitive tendons. When Logan made a grab for her hands, Hana jabbed him in the ribs and made him squirm.
“Hana, don’t!” Logan warned. There was something serious in the way he took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. “Don’t.”
“But you’re ticklish,” she said, her eyes heralding mischief.
His irises shone gritty and sparkled as though shot through with diamonds, emphasising his authority. “Hana, please leave this. For now. Please?” It was said as a question but implied instruction. Hana’s enthusiastic lover took a backseat beneath the man of authority and Hana felt it like a violent slap to the face.
She snatched her hands away, knitting her brow and grinding her jaw. “More secrets!” she spat. “So much for agreements.” She hated being told what to do, feeling a rebellious spirit force its way to the top. Sixteen years of marriage to a competent decision-maker who ran his relationship like a project, built up a core of resistance which threatened to explode. “Are you asking me, or telling me?” she demanded, voice low and green eyes flashing with defiance.
Logan ran his hand across his jaw and then through his hair, betraying his distress and Hana felt a flash of dread as he replied, “Hana, I’m begging you.”
Chapter 25
Hana’s walk back to the staff units did little to assuage the unsettled feeling Logan’s words created. She walked carefully around the edge of the sports field, acknowledging Larry Collins’ continuing influence on the life of the school.
Knocking on the front door of her unit with a heavy heart, Hana was surprised to be greeted by Lucy, who stood back to reveal a scene of touching domestication. Tama set cutlery on the table and balanced Phoenix on his hip and it made Hana smile. “We cooked dinner,” Lucy said with enthusiasm as a chocolate covered Jas appeared from the small kitchen with a grin on his face.
“And you’ve been breeding children,” Hana said jokily, regretting it as Tama pouted.
“Definitely not!” he said prudishly. “They’re all yours!”
Lucy’s face gained a heated flush, mottling her delicate skin. “I’m a Christian; I don’t agree with sex before marriage,” she whispered.
Hana nodded. “Me too. Good on you.” She disguised her smirk with a cough, knowing God had an interesting sense of humour. Tama was the male version of a whore and seemed serious enough about Lucy to curb his habits. She sneaked a sideways look at the teenager, seeing only contentment. Perhaps boundaries with women were all he ever needed.
Lucy peered at Hana as though expecting her to say more. “I didn’t sleep with Logan until we were married,” Hana said, trying to inject solidarity into the situation as she dropped her boots onto the floor of the hall cupboard. Tama clattered a fork onto the table, making Phoenix jump and grizzle.
“Really?” he said, his face mischievous. “He kept that bloody quiet!”
Hana lifted her finger and pointed it at him, narrowing her eyes and cocking her head. “Don’t start!” she warned and Tama bit his lip.
“Sorry,” he said, a grin straining at the corners of his mouth. “But I guess it explains how you’re always...”
“Tama, thank you!” Hana said sharply and he smirked and went back to setting the table. In his confusion he handed the baby on his hip a metal spoon to play with.
“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t do that,” Hana suggested.
“She’s fine,” Tama argued, yelping as Phoenix whacked him on the chin and then banged herself on the forehead. Hana reached out to take her daughter and Phoenix did a fake cry and a smirk, launching forwards into her mother’s arms like a miniature drunkard. Hana decided to play along.
“Did your nasty bro’ hurt poor baby?” she said in a sickly, crooning voice and Tama looked momentarily annoyed until he realised she’d referred to him as Phoenix’s bro’ in front of Lucy. Then he felt included and soppy, looking so much like a big puppy it was endearing.
Hana decided not to help his cause any further, taking the baby to the bathroom for a quick wash in the sink. Jas came too and handed her things, watching as the baby splashed around in the water and Hana struggled to keep her sitting upright. Phoenix squealed and covered her small companion with soap bubbles, laughing when he patted them around his chin and tried to get her to say, “Bush Santa.”
“So where’s Mum and Dad?” Hana asked. Jas shrugged and didn’t look bothered at being abandoned in her house.
“I’ve got my rucksack with things I might need,” he said, “in case I stay the night.”
“Oh, nice,” Hana remarked with a smile, wondering where his parents thought she’d put him to bed.
“Let’s get you changed into your pyjamas before dinner,” she suggested. “I can fix a plastic bag over your cast and you can hop in the shower.”
“You’re not allowed to hop in the shower. Mummy says it’s dangerous.”
“Haha, funny guy,” Hana scoffed and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Come on, you get ready and I’ll find the bag.”
Jas’ new Action Man sat on the edge of the bath and watched the splashy process. “Can he come in?” Jas begged. “He loves it.”
“No!” Hana protested, brushing her daughter’s wispy hair. “He’ll get waterlogged like the last one.”
In the kitchen, Tama had produced a half decent dinner of spaghetti bolognese with copious amounts of cheese. They gathered around the tiny table to eat and Hana eyed Lucy’s plate with interest. Perhaps Tama thought his new girlfriend was too thin, dishing up Mount Kilimanjaro for her to summit. Hana remembered Miriam’s need to feed everyone and how it was the older woman’s way of showing love. She wondered if Lucy realised how much affection was on her plate.
“You gave me heaps,” Lucy gasped, her face shining under an unhealthy sheen of sweat. The mouthfuls seemed to get harder to press between her lips.
Jas beamed across the table at his grandmother, twirling his fork competently in the pasta for a one-armed-bandit. His fight with the chocolate spread hadn’t dented his appetite. “Why did the visitor drop the little parcel off?” Hana asked casually, careful not to make the little boy feel unwelcome.
“Huh?” Tama looked gormless and Hana shook her head in frustration.
“She means me,” Jas said, pointing to his clean pyjama shirt with a sauce covered spoon. “I’m the little parcel” He winked at Hana with an exaggerated motion involving his whole face and she flushed with embarrassment.
“You’re too clever for your own good,” she muttered and Jas grinned.
“Thanks, Hanny. That’s nice.”
“Oh, his dad dropped him off. Amy’s already at work but Bodie got called in. He’s gone to the boarding house.”
“Why?” Hana’s fork remained poised in mid-air.
“There’s a very naughty boy there.” Jas waved his spoon and flicked sauce backwards onto the wall. “He told lies and Dad’s gonna beat him up and lock him in the cells.”
Hana pulled a face. “I think you’ve got something a bit wrong there.”
“Nope.” Jas shook his head. “Daddy said it on the phone. He said the boy got seen in
the naughty place so he’s gonna get him.”
“What boy?” Hana asked, her breathing quickening in fear. “Do you know his name?”
Jas shook his head. “Nope. Where’s Poppa?”
“He’s at work, sweetheart. And no, you can’t see him tonight.”
“He knows the boy,” Jas said, sticking his fork up his nose and wincing at the pain.
Hana’s chest felt tight and she resisted the urge to run across the field to the boarding house. Her altercation with Logan rose inside her like a spikey thing. She hated it when he wasn’t straight with her and it hit her in the guts like a body blow for being dumb enough to believe they were past that kind of closed behaviour.
In an attempt to distract herself, Hana made an unfortunate error of judgement. “I bumped into Anka today when I was with my dad,” she said, picking over her food but not making much progress. It was more interesting watching Lucy deal with her food mountain and Phoenix play with a string of spaghetti in her high chair. The baby wore a plastic bib like a strait jacket and Hana wondered if she should have offered Lucy the spare one. She seemed to be dropping her dinner down
“Thanks for that.” Tama visibly paled and Hana felt cruel, regretting mentioning her friend. When the silence grew embarrassing, Lucy interjected in a break from her one-woman-spaghetti-eating-competition.
“Sorry, who’s Anka?”
Tama’s cutlery hovered over his plate and even Phoenix stopped pushing the white worm around her tray in interest, fixing her grey eyes on her mother.
“She’s an old friend of mine,” Hana hedged, “I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“Why’s that?” asked Lucy, ever the policewoman.
Tama looked at Hana intently, making her suffer and self-destructing at the same time. Hana felt herself wither with humiliation. “Yeah Hana,” he said. “Why is that?”
She changed tack, trying to stop the moment getting out of hand and turning it back onto herself. “We had a fall out a year ago. Anka had an affair and it detonated her marriage. She hated on me because I tried to talk her out of it. Instead of sticking by her, I judged her. But I saw her today and I’ve missed her. I don’t have enough friends just to let them go because of a bad choice. I can’t say anything to punish her more than she has herself; Anka’s lost everything.”
Lucy stared at her spaghetti mountain and sighed. “My last boyfriend cheated on me,” she said sadly. “We were engaged for four years and he’d been seeing this other girl for two of them. It’s debilitating to be on the other end of it.”
Hana nodded. “I know. But people make mistakes and they’re all redeemable. I’m glad I’m friends with Anka again.”
Lucy didn’t look convinced. “It’s hard. He still goes to my church and it’s awkward. I don’t have anyone to sit with because our joint friends supported him.”
Hana patted Lucy’s hand, her face filled with understanding. Vik hadn’t been around after his affair but Hana knew it would have decimated their church.
“What’s an affair?” Jas piped up, his mouth full of pasta. Phoenix laughed at his face expression and he squeezed pasta through a gap in his teeth, sending her into hysterics. Hana shook her head slowly at him and gave him the face.
“What church do you attend?” Hana asked Lucy, hoping to move the conversation away from Anka and allow Tama to breathe normally again. She grabbed his hand under the table by way of apology but he didn’t respond, his fingers stiff and unyielding.
“Ships have anchors,” Jas said helpfully, “massive big fat ones. So does Popeye. He has anchor tattoos on his big, giantnormous arms.” He looked across at Phoenix, having a private conversation with her, “He goes raaaah like this when Bluto gets his Oliveoil and he eats the green stuff. It goes up his veins into his armpits to make a lump and he goes raaaah!” Jas bugged his eyes and flexed the spindly muscles on his good arm. Phoenix looked momentarily stunned and then realised he was doing the favourite face which Tama did. She screamed in delight and banged the tray of her high chair in glee, desperate for him to do it again. “Dad’s got Popeye arms under his uniform,” Jas said conversationally, “but his come popping up from Marmite, not green stuff.” He scratched his ear with his spoon, spreading sauce up the side of his face, his brain working out some complicated scenario. “Do you still do that green stuff in your pants?” he asked Phoenix, who nodded happily without coordination.
Hana watched in horror as Jas put his fork down and Action Man’s head appeared above the lip of the table. “That’s not spinach, Jas,” Hana warned. “Let’s not go there.”
“I go to the night services at The Zone,” Lucy said, “I like it there and don’t feel like changing when I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“If you’re planning on going tomorrow, I’ll come,” Hana offered. “I’ve been before and liked it. That’s if Logan or Tama will look after Phoenix.”
Tama looked Hana square in the eye. “Ask Uncle Logan to babysit. I’ll come to church.”
Hana cocked her head and stared at Tama with curiosity, trying to work out his motive. She narrowed her eyes and smirked, guessing he didn’t want her to be alone with Lucy in case she betrayed him again. “Right then,” Hana said, getting up to fetch her baby’s food bowl from the microwave, “that’s settled. Church tomorrow night at The Zone.”
“Right!” Tama replied, burying his fork back into his spaghetti, looking more sick than hungry.
An apologetic Amy collected Jas at ten o’clock that night, scraping him off Hana’s bed and grateful he was already in his pyjamas. Logan worked all day on Sunday and Hana avoided him, sensing he was up to something. He borrowed the Honda at lunchtime and brought it back late in the afternoon. He appeared around five-thirty looking tired and overwrought, his tie loose and his top button undone.
“Dinner’s in the microwave,” Hana said, pointing to a plate of food. “It needs heating.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” he replied and Hana shrugged.
“Whatever.”
Phoenix was fed, bathed and ready for bed, kicking her legs under the baby gym on the lounge rug. Tama appeared in his interview clothes and shiny shoes, ready to go to church and Logan gaped in surprise. “Who died?” he asked. “Have I missed a funeral?”
Hana smiled with approval and disappeared to the bedroom to shed her jeans, not wanting to make Tama look out of place. She reappeared in a pretty dress and her long black boots. “Where are you all going?” Logan asked, looking lost.
“Church,” Hana replied curtly. “Wanna come and confess some sins?” She said it jokily but Logan looked stung. Hana wished she could lose her voice for a short time until she learned to think about the things that came out of her mouth.
Sensing the fraught atmosphere, Tama went out to the car to start it up and wipe the gathering ice from the windscreen while Hana bent down for one last kiss from her baby. Phoenix squealed and puckered her lips, making Hana laugh. The air bubbles on her cheek were the best the child could manage.
Hana stood up and wiped the goo off but when she turned, she found her husband standing close. He held onto her forearms with an iron grip, his face impassive and frightening because of the complete lack of emotion there. “Hana,” he said seriously, “I don’t expect you to like all the decisions I make, but at least respect them. I know I said it didn’t matter but sometimes I just wish you’d trust me.” He leaned down and touched his lips tantalisingly to hers, disregarding the glossy lipstick. He made her heart melt and slide into her boots and she hated him for it. “Do you have to go?” he asked, his breath soft on her face and Hana fought the urge to fall into bed with him, losing herself in his embrace. Logan’s thumbs brushed sensuously along the delicate skin of her forearms. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Hana swallowed and nodded. “I promised.”
Logan nodded once, his fringe brushing Hana’s forehead and making her want to scream. He dropped her arms and stood back, allowing her room to pass. Hana felt
conflicted and dithered on the spot in confusion, her heart vying for attention over her head.
“Go on, go,” Logan said gently and kissed her again, making it worse. He turned her round and with his hands on her shoulders, guided her towards the door and down the front steps. He waved once and shut the door as his wife climbed into the passenger seat next to Tama.
Hana felt a horrid emptiness begin in the pit of her stomach and touched the spot under her ribs.
“You don’t wanna go, do you?” Tama asked and Hana frowned.
“I try not to break my promises,” she said, sounding sulky.
“So what do they do at this place?” Tama said, looking for guidance.
“It’s like a school assembly, but bigger,” Hana said, trying to be helpful. “But from what I remember, it’s charismatic, so people move around more and put their arms up and stuff.” A horrid thought occurred to her. “You do what you want. Don’t feel like you have to copy other people. It’s an act of worship, not a line dancing class.” She had dreadful visions of Lucy going to the altar for prayer and finding Tama standing eagerly behind her. Church could be a traumatic experience for newcomers.
“So, it is like line dancing, or it isn’t?” Tama asked facetiously and Hana glared at him.
“I’m sorry for mentioning Anka. It just popped out because I’d seen her.”
“And because you’d had a bust-up with my uncle again,” Tama smirked. “You always take it out on everyone else.”
“No, I do not!” Hana replied, her voice hiking at the end of her sentence.
“Yes you do - like now. What did he say to set you off again?”
“Nothing!” Hana wailed, frustrated at what her reaction revealed. “He’s up to something and I can’t get it out of him.”
“Then trust him,” Tama replied, “it’s simple.”
Hana sulked all the way to church, fixing a plastic smile on her face as she went through the double doors. The well-intentioned person on the door was a ‘hugger,’ which was amusing from Hana’s point of view and terrifying from poor Tama’s. Not used to physical contact, the teenager looked unnerved by the woman who threw her arms around his neck and administered a meaty snog to the side of his cheek. Enthusiastic enough to suck him in, the woman’s actions brought laughter from between Hana’s lips. “You did well,” she sniggered, patting Tama on the back as he progressed through the entranceway towards the next obstacle wiping sweat from his brow.