Broken Toys

by Jackson Lear

  “I know,” said Claire. “You did that a lot as well.”

  “Probably, but my thing was mostly hiding behind doors and listening in,” said Anthony. “That didn’t work well on Dad, though. He always walked like a ninja and he’d find me.”

  Claire peered at him. “You were listening through doors?”

  Anthony nodded enthusiastically. “Quite often.”

  “Ever listen through my door?”

  “Eh, who’s to say? Maybe I heard a few things, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I knew when you were talking to your boyfriend and maybe I knew enough that when you two were quiet I should stop listening.”

  Claire pulled her face back and grimaced. “Ew.”

  “You’re telling me,” Anthony said, flaring his eyes in agreement.

  “Did Josh do that as well?”

  “He was the one who started it,” said Anthony. “There was a time when Patrick was sleeping over when you girls had a slumber party.”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. He climbed into the bathroom cupboard under the sink.”

  “Yep. Rory caught him.”

  “That was a shame,” Anthony said.

  “Why, did you put him up to it?”

  “I don’t know, we always dared each other to do something stupid. You probably did as well.”

  “We weren’t stupid like that,” said Claire.

  “Well, no, of course not, you girls were stupid in other ways,” said Anthony.

  Claire stared back at her brother. “We were not!”

  “Oh please, it’d take three of you to figure out how to get a boy to ask you out.”

  Claire shrugged. “If a girl asked a boy out then she was a slut.”

  “She would’ve made his day and he probably would’ve said yes.”

  Josh wandered into the kitchen to get a refill of water. “What’s going on? Secret Baxter talk?”

  “Yep,” said Anthony.

  “Pretty much,” said Claire quickly after him.

  “Right. Well, I’ve got a room of oestrogen fuelled women who are giddy about dresses, and not enough people in there to lavish them with praise and affection. So come on!” Josh snapped his fingers together. “Egos are to be fed!”

  “Fine, fine,” said Claire, as she wandered back into the lounge.

  Josh leaned over to make sure the coast was clear before he quickly lowered his voice. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” said Anthony.

  “Terrified?”

  “Little bit.”

  “If you need help at any time, I’m here.”

  “Thanks,” said Anthony, but he wasn’t entirely sure what kind of spontaneous help Josh could provide.

  Hannah, Gemma, and Claire took turns to head upstairs and get changed, then they all came down for the big reveal and to spend a few minutes in their outfits earning the required amount of compliments. Hannah and Gemma looked as though they were sewn into their black and gold dresses, while Claire went with a black and white knee length dress. Since she wasn’t a bridesmaid she could wear whatever she liked. As long as Lucy approved.

  The girls didn’t last long in their dresses since they were brand new and no one could risk spilling food or drink on them. So they came down, twirled about, did a curtsey and some basic dance steps to see if they could pull off the moves in the tight outfits, then they went back upstairs to climb into their jeans and t-shirts.

  While they were gone, it left Josh, Anthony, and Amanda alone in Claire’s lounge. Amanda waited until it was all quiet and looked over to Josh. “Did he tell you?”

  Josh nodded. “I did get an emergency full run down of the weekend, yes.”

  Amanda turned to Anthony. “And you know about him and Brooke?”

  Anthony sighed. “Yeah. I got those details as well.”

  “Good,” said Amanda. “Kinda feels like old times again.” She then looked Anthony dead in the eye and waited until he looked her back. “I’m in love with you.”

  Josh held his breath and wished he wasn’t a part of this, but he knew he couldn’t let his friend suffer through this torture alone. He knew it. Amanda knew it.

  “I don’t think you should ask Gemma about … the thing,” said Anthony.

  “The threesome?” asked Amanda.

  “Yes. That.”

  “I wouldn’t be doing it for her.”

  “Thanks, but let’s just … bury it. For now.”

  The corner of Amanda’s mouth curled into a smile.

  Claire came downstairs first, smiling at herself for not looking ridiculous in her choice of dress.

  “Weird. Three of you went up, only one came down,” said Josh.

  “There’s only one bathroom so Hannah went in first.”

  Anthony felt his vision start to constrict. If Hannah went in first then Gemma was standing outside the bathroom door. The bathroom door that stood at the top of the stairs. Within reach of the lounge.

  Jesus H. Fuck, what the hell did she hear?

  38

  Josh

  Lukas rapped on Josh’s office door. “Umago’s. Tight arse Tuesday. Last chance.”

  Josh shook his head. “I still have another week to go.”

  “I see. Then you’ll be scoffing down the chips and burgers like no one’s business?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Fair enough.” Lukas slipped away.

  Josh gave himself another five minutes to wrap up before he stretched, pulled his shoulder blades back into place, and went out to the kitchen.

  For the second day in a row, the kettle wasn’t rumbling to a boil. Nor was there a lingering scent of perfume. Josh zapped his cod and veggies in the microwave and wandered down to the painfully quiet reception.

  Brooke’s computer was running but her monitor had been switched off. Her thin jacket was still draped over the chair but her purse and phone were gone.

  Josh returned to the kitchen and poured himself a tea for one, with a spoonful of sugar and a splash of full cream milk. He kept an ear out for the bathroom, hoping to hear a flush and an energetic blonde bounding out with a story about annoying clients, but the world around him remained silent.

  He picked at his carrots and broccoli, ignored the fish, and placed most of his uneaten lunch back into the fridge. After ten minutes of staring into space he hiked the mile-long trek back to his office, closed the door over, and checked his phone for any hopeful message.

  39

  Daniel

  “What if there are druggies?” asked Warrick, as the boys climbed along the creek towards the stone bridge.

  “Then they can fuck right off,” said Daniel.

  Warrick cast a quick look back to Ian.

  “Or we’ll leave,” said Ian.

  “Either way,” said Daniel, with a shrug. “But druggies don’t live under bridges.”

  “Some do,” said Warrick.

  “They live in the projects, with ripped apart walls and cat shit everywhere,” said Daniel. “The toilet will be overflowing so they have to piss out the window.”

  Ian shook his head. “What about the women?”

  Daniel glanced back. “What do you mean?”

  “How do they piss out of a window?”

  “I guess they stand on the kitchen counter, lean back, and point their cooter forward.”

  “They might wee in a can and throw that out the window,” said Warrick.

  Daniel caught himself before he agreed with Warrick, but it was a fair suggestion nonetheless. “Tell you what, though. Women piss in the shower a lot more than they admit.”

  Ian looked away sheepishly, as though he was desperate to try and unsee something that couldn’t be shaken from his memory.

  “Hairy, too.”

  “Not all of them,” said Warrick. “Ian’s auntie wasn’t hairy at all. Neither’s Emily.”

  “Yeah, because she spends half an hour in there everyday shaving it all off,” said Daniel. “Not like Ian’s mum.”
/>   “Hey,” snapped Ian.

  “I’m just telling it like it is. Though really not as hairy as Warrick’s mum. Like, goddamn dude, is she part sasquatch?”

  Warrick remained quiet as he trudged forward. Considering he had spent all morning printing out human-shaped targets like the police use and sticky-taping them together so they had something decent to aim at, the least Daniel could have done was stop reminding Warrick that his mum’s lower half was as covered in as much hair as his dad’s chest and shoulders.

  Daniel turned his grin back towards the bridge ahead. It dropped immediately as he raised one hand out to his side. “Hold up,” he said, bringing the boys to come to a stop.

  Under the far side of the stone bridge, among all the rocks and graffiti, was a blob of brown and straw coloured hair.

  Warrick rose himself up onto his tiptoes. “Is that an Alsatian?”

  “It’s a German Shepard,” corrected Daniel.

  “An Alsatian is a German Shepard,” said Ian.

  It wasn’t moving. The boys crept forward, coming to a stop just under the stonework. The body of the dog lay on the riverbank with its snout just at the water’s edge, as though its last act alive was it trying to take a drink of water. Its coat shone with greasy blood. Flies and bugs were already circling the body, ready for a feast.

  “What happened to him?” asked Warrick.

  “How the fuck would I know?” asked Daniel. He stepped forward, swatted away some of the bugs from his face, and peered in closer.

  Warrick turned a careful eye to Ian. Ian flicked his attention away just as quickly, but there was certainly a moment where they both wondered the same thing. Warrick glanced over the graffiti under the bridge but none of it really registered. It all just became part of the urban landscape.

  “We should go,” said Ian.

  “I bet it was the Beast,” said Daniel, as he crouched down to study the remains.

  “The Beast wouldn’t have left him like this.”

  “Sure he would. Of all the fucked up things he does, this would be one of the least fucked up things.” Daniel cast his eyes back to Warrick and watched his friend start to squirm. “The dog probably escaped from his lair. Almost got away in time as well. Probably saw some shit that would make your hair stand on end.”

  Warrick turned back to the graffiti as it seemed to hold a far greater appeal than anything else in his surroundings.

  Daniel’s lips curled into the gentlest of smiles. “Maybe he’s trying to build an army of mutant dogs to take over Luxford. They’ll roam at night with tentacles sticking out of their backs, or birds strapped to them so they can see in every direction.”

  Ian stared back at Daniel. “You had the gun last.”

  Daniel pulled back in genuine offence. “I didn’t shoot the fucking dog. We were out of bullets, remember?” When he got no response he rose to his feet. “Remember?”

  “I remember.”

  “Good. The dog doesn’t have any bullet holes in it. It was probably hit by a car and was either knocked off the bridge or came down here to die. And fuck you for saying that I killed the dog!”

  “I didn’t say you killed him.”

  “Yes you did.”

  “I just said you had the gun last.”

  “Same fucking thing! You come here and show me a bullet hole.”

  Ian stood his ground and didn’t want any of those flies and bugs getting near him.

  Daniel shot a finger at Warrick. “You show me the bullet holes.”

  “I didn’t say you shot him,” said Warrick.

  “But you were thinking it. I saw that look between you two. Come and show me the bullet holes.”

  A truck barrelled overhead, reverberating down to the stream below. After a follow up glare from Daniel, Warrick stepped over the water and peered at the body. He found the shine of old blood. Puss had formed around the dog’s hind leg, but there was no bullet wound that he could make out. He shook his head at Daniel.

  “There. See? The dog wasn’t shot.”

  “I didn’t say it was or that you did it,” said Ian.

  Daniel sneered at his friends and pulled the Smith & Wesson from his backpack. He tossed it to Warrick, who fumbled the catch and caught it between his thighs. “Yeah, right. It’s Warrick’s turn, isn’t? Enjoy your shitty targets, fucktards. I’m going home.”

  40

  Josh

  “Even by my standards, six a.m. is a stupid time to go for a run,” said Amanda.

  Josh was busy stretching his quads by the front door of her house in Portal Close. “Desperate measures are called for and I need a girl’s opinion.”

  “Woman.”

  “Woman’s opinion. Brooke’s no longer turning up to the gym and I’m getting a weird look from all of the ladies there who wonder what I did or said to her.”

  Amanda locked the door and led them away in a gentle jog. “You can tell them to mind their own business.”

  “This isn’t New York. It’s a small town. People know each other, they send friend requests out all the time. Whispers spread. I’m having to say that she’s not feeling well but our instructor has her eye on me, and not in a good way.”

  “Do you care what they think?”

  “I care that these whispers might get to people Brooke knows and that they might be able to sabotage things before I have a chance to save this.”

  “You do know that I might not be able to help, right?” asked Amanda.

  “Yeah. And if you know a way to lose nine pounds by this weekend I’d love to hear it.”

  “Lots of salad, lots of grilled chicken, and more cardio than you can tolerate. Twice a day.” Amanda picked up the pace.

  “So how do I win Brooke back?”

  “Too early to say. She had a freak out and it’s going to take time for her to settle. A week is certainly not long enough for her head to get back on straight. She needs to feel as though she’s back in control of her life.”

  “How long are we talking about?”

  “At least a month. Probably two. If you push too strong she’ll just put a wall up that you won’t be able to get past.”

  “Her husband’s a dick, though.”

  “Have you met him?”

  “No.”

  She glanced at Josh and allowed her look to hit the mark.

  “So, just ease back?” asked Josh.

  “Yeah. Let her find her footing again. There’s only so much convincing you can do. She’s the one who actually has to decide it for herself.”

  “Waiting that long might drive me insane,” said Josh.

  “It might also be good for you. Give you time to look over what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “I’ve found ‘the one’ and she’s with someone else. I’m sure you know how frustrating that is.”

  Amanda glanced over with a steely look. Just for that, she sped up. They rounded the corner and found their way heading along Blyth Street towards the creek.

  “I’ve been thinking about freelancing in promotions,” said Amanda.

  “Oh yeah? In New York.”

  “Not sure. It might be a good time to relocate back to England. I can say that I was a hotshot promoter in New York and try things in London.”

  “That’s great! And good luck.”

  “Thanks, but I’m going to be completely overwhelmed since I don’t know anyone or any of the businesses over here.”

  “But you know how to find them,” said Josh.

  “Which means I should probably find a job in London first so I can build a network of clients in the West End. Then maybe I can casually slip in a script or two, produce something, and use that as a way to get back in showbiz.”

  “Plus you’ll be living just down the road,” said Josh, now with a full blown grin. “It’ll be great to see you for more than just a few days out of every year.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And I’ve got a few showbizzy contacts in London. Short film promoters, festivals, even
some construction companies if you’re really desperate for a paycheque.”

  “I’m certainly looking at the scary end of my bank account,” said Amanda. She drifted off for a moment to catch her breath. The houses started to thin out towards vacant lots as they headed towards the creek. “If you know anything about Anthony and me, will you tell me?”

  Josh eased into a smile. Thankfully there wasn’t a hint of dishonesty in his look. “Yeah. You two have been head over heels for each other for longer than you probably know. At times it’s sucked being the odd one out but you two would be brilliant together. I don’t particularly like Gemma. I tolerate her and I’m as friendly as I can be, but she thinks I’m a bad influence on her kids and we never really connected.”

  “Is he going to leave her for me?” Amanda asked, reeling as though her heart was about to break.

  Josh caught the devastating fear in her eyes and reconsidered the wisdom of doing this all while out for a run. “I honestly don’t know. He should, but they’ve been trying to work on their issues for a while.”

  “Do you think I’m wasting my time by going after him?”

  Josh gently shook his head. “No. But you have to let them break up on their own. You can’t drive a wedge between his family because there’s him and Gemma, Tom and Sarah, Gemma’s parents, and Anthony’s parents. They’re all involved. You’re certainly going to see a lot of Gemma when she’s at her worst. You and Anthony are going to have to negotiate with her almost every week on behalf of Tom and Sarah. Every week until Sarah turns eighteen. And no matter how much convincing you two do, she’ll always believe that she married someone who wanted to be with someone else. That might turn her a little vicious.”

  “So what do I do?” Amanda asked.

  “Prove to him you’re the better option. I have no idea how you’re going to do that. Are you rich?”

  “No,” said Amanda. “Scott is buying me out of the apartment, so that’s something. But until he does I’m broke, unemployed, and living in my mum’s boyfriend’s house for free, like a bum. It doesn’t exactly look like I’ve got my shit together.”