‘I told him not to worry about it and yelled that we should go because Lou had just crapped all over himself. The driver started up the van, but it was too late. The police arrived as we were leaving. There was a high-speed chase, which lasted for over an hour. They ended up blowing our tyres out, and the driver took a bullet to the head. He died at the scene. The rest of us, including Lou, sustained minor injuries.’
Grandpa spoke of how angry the three of them were with Lou. After their time in prison, they all went their separate ways. He ended the story by calling Lou ‘the bastard’. This part always made everyone laugh, including his children, no matter how many times they heard it.
No one knew whether the story was true or not, but Grandpa told it with such passion and conviction that they just had to believe him. He always focused on Lou being a deluded lunatic, never acknowledging the significance or danger of carrying out the crime.
Patrick’s grandpa also loved telling stories about growing up in America as a child of Irish parents and all the difficulties they had faced in a new country. Most of his tales had a twist. It was amazing how consistently he told them; he always repeated the same lines without missing a word. Perhaps twenty-five years in prison had given him time to perfect his anecdotes.
He liked to say, ‘Don’t live your life regretting what you can’t change. Learn how to move on from your mistakes.’ He felt that serving his full prison sentence meant that he’d paid his dues to society; when he was freed, he’d lived out his remaining days with his son and daughter-in-law, Patrick’s parents. He sat in the armchair beside the fireplace looking fragile and harmless, even when he relayed the story of the robbery.
Patrick remembered his grandfather fondly for all the jokes and tales he’d told, even though he’d passed away when Patrick was just eight years old. People who knew about the crime made fun of Patrick’s father because he was the child of a notorious bank robber. That reputation made its way into Patrick’s early school and he even had a few fights trying to defend his grandfather’s honour. As an eight-year-old, he wasn’t proud of what had happened but he still loved his grandpa.
The moment that Patrick was able to leave home, he changed his name to one he found in a newspaper. This was before he met and married his wife, Sam. From then on, Patrick and his immediate family answered to the name Salexy.
Patrick was known to his friends and family as Paddy. He owned a garage where he repaired cars and sold vehicle parts. That was how he earned a living to support his household of six: himself and his wife, plus their sons Jacob, Anthony, Martin and their daughter, Carlan.
Martin Salexy had inherited his father’s ginger hair, his extremely hairy arms and legs and his rosy, freckled face. Martin had a lovely smile, with one dimple. Those things were almost all he had going for him. He was twenty-six years old and habitually lazy. When he wasn’t with his friends, he stayed in the basement of his parents’ house playing video games and sleeping.
Martin had completed high school but he never went to college. When he spoke, he sometimes came across as loud and brash. He lacked a filter but he was a momma’s boy and he got away with a lot at home.
One evening, his mother returned from work and went downstairs to give him his weekly allowance. She knocked, waited for a few seconds and opened the door. Martin was still wearing his PJs and playing on his video games.
‘Martin, darling, how long are you going to play on these machines? You hardly leave this room unless you’re going out with your friends,’ she said. She walked towards the window and drew back the curtains.
Martin didn’t respond but he shifted his skinny body in his chair to look at her. Daylight flooded the room and he cupped his hand over his eyes.
‘Martin!’ Sam said, exasperated. ‘You have to go and look for a job. You can’t stay cooped up in this room every day and night, watching your whole life pass you by while all your mates get jobs and make a life for themselves!’ Before he could respond, she continued. ‘Look at this place. This room smells awful and your clothes are all over the place – except in the wardrobe, where they belong.’
They had the same fight whenever she gave him his allowance. In the past, Martin had usually said, ‘Mum, stop yelling at me. I’ve been looking and no one wants to hire me.’ This response would cause a long argument; he’d inevitably became defensive and angry and refused to talk to her or eat at home for days. Even Carlan would be upset with their mother for making Martin angry. Martin and Carlan were closer than the other siblings.
His mother would then buy him a present such as the latest video game to apologise because she loved him and couldn’t stay mad at him for long. If Patrick found out, he said that she encouraged Martin’s laziness and this would lead to the two of them arguing. For that reason, Martin sometimes decided not to answer his mum at all, no matter what she said.
However, on this occasion he spoke up. ‘Mum, why are you shouting? Who said I didn’t have a job?’ he asked, rubbing his hand vigorously across his head to compose himself.
‘Oh?’ she said. ‘What job?’
‘The games, of course,’ he replied, pointing at the computer and springing to his feet.
‘What, you mean the computer is your job? Do tell. I’d like to hear this one.’
‘I’m working as a video-games’ critic. So, while it may seem to you and others that I’m being lazy, I’m actually carrying out an in-depth study of every game I play. Then I’ll write and publish a critical analysis of them.’
His mother nodded slowly.
‘That way, users will be able to compare and make an informed decision when purchasing their next games. The companies will soon start to pay me for helping to analyse their games from a player’s point of view,’ he said.
His mother took a few moments to consider what he’d said. It sounded good in theory and it could even work – if he actually followed through with it. This wasn’t the first time he’d come up with an idea that he didn’t follow through.
‘Okay! This is new. So, what have you done so far?’ she asked calmly.
‘I was working on it before you burst in and started shouting at me,’ he said, sitting back down in front of his computer.
Sam was speechless. She stood still for a few seconds before setting his weekly allowance, fifty dollars and fifty cents, on the table and leaving the room.
Sam loved and cuddled Martin more than her other sons who were older. Their younger sister, Carlan, was loved by all, especially by Patrick and Martin. She could do no wrong in their eyes.
One evening during dinner, with the whole family seated around the table, Martin presented his news about having been accepted to live on Mars.
‘Please, Martin, quit playing around,’ his mother said. ‘Tell me that you’ve not really signed up for such nonsense.’
‘I’m telling you the truth. We’ve all signed up: me, Chris, Monica, Koi and Morgan. We figured it will be a tremendous adventure,’ he said, smiling broadly as though this were all very normal.
Sam stood up from her seat, walked around to Martin and hugged him, crying and pleading for him to stay.
‘Mother, there’s nothing here for me to do,’ Martin said.
‘‘There are lots of things for you to do here! What about your video-games’ analysis? That sounded like a good idea. I could even help you with it,’ she offered.
‘No, I’d rather travel with my mates. It’ll be so much fun,’ Martin responded, still smiling.
‘You do know that people could lose their life on such a dangerous voyage,’ Sam said.
‘Well, we’ve all made up our minds and there’s no turning back. We will be moving to camp soon.’
No one else said much. Carlan stopped eating and began to cry. Jacob, Anthony and their father sat quietly, staring at Martin.
‘Darling, please stay. I’m really sorry for causing you grief. I promise never to mention finding a job again as long as you’re in this house. We’ll also increase your allowance
. Won’t we, Patrick?’ Sam turned to face her husband, drying her tears with one hand and rubbing Martin’s shoulder with the other. Patrick nodded without saying a word.
‘Oh, Mum, don’t worry. I’m not leaving because of that. I just want to do something different with my life. I want to follow the thrill of an adventure,’ replied Martin.
Sam patted his shoulder and left the dining table to go up to her room. She took a bundle of money from her purse and went straight to Martin’s bedroom and placed it in front of his computer. The following day, Martin took the money to his mother, who was tidying the living room. ‘What’s this for, Mum?’
‘Oh, that’s your new allowance,’ she answered softly. She slumped into an armchair.
‘Thanks, Mum, but you don’t have to do that. What you were giving me before was okay. Please take some of it back,’ he pleaded, looking at her compassionately.
‘Don’t worry, you can keep it,’ Sam said.
‘Okay. Thanks, Mum.’ He put the money in his pocket and lingered for a second. ‘You have to let me go. Please, Mum, I’m begging you.’ He crossed over and hugged her. Sam took his hand and started to sob. Martin immediately started crying too, but he quickly pulled away from her and left the room. He felt sorry for her.
Once Sam had accepted that Martin was actually leaving, she locked herself in her bedroom for days, crying her eyes out. She blamed herself for his decision.
Two months after he told his family about the possibility of him going to live on Mars, the day of his departure finally arrived. Martin went into his mother’s room to say goodbye. Fresh tears started pouring down her face and onto her white nightgown. Her hair was unkempt, her nose running. She pulled a dirty white handkerchief from the sleeve of her dressing gown and dabbed her eyes and nose. Martin hugged her and she sobbed onto his shoulder for a few minutes. She refused to watch him leave.
When he finally pulled away, he went into the kitchen to say goodbye to his siblings and his father. Martin hugged his brothers first and then Patrick, who held him tightly and shed a few tears. Martin hugged Carlan last. She was crying uncontrollably and didn’t want to let go.
Patrick wondered if this journey could be exactly what Martin needed to wake up to reality. He kept this view to himself since he knew that Sam wasn’t taking the separation from her son very well. Patrick usually didn’t get involved with issues relating to his wife’s relationship with Martin.
Martin loved adventure. He wasn’t going to let anything stop him from leaving – not when he was so close to living the life of his dreams with his best mates.
Morgan Joshy, was African-American and very funny. He worked as a fitness coach at the local gym five days a week. His bubbly personality made him the life and soul of every party. He loved goofing around and never took anything seriously. He had high cheekbones, hazel eyes and a chiselled face, making him quite handsome. He was tall, fit and twenty-six years old.
Some years earlier, he’d almost burnt down his parents’ house with a firecracker while trying to play a prank on his friends. It was lucky that their neighbour was at home and saw the smoke; he quickly rushed in and put out the fire before it could spread.
Koi Pens, was Asian-American. He had fluid strands of black hair that constantly flopped across his forehead. They fell down faster than he could tuck them behind his ears. He wore glasses and was quieter than the others, but he was very intelligent and loved science. He had started volunteering at the local observatory after graduating top of his class at Ohio State University. He enjoyed working at the observatory and quickly became interested in anything to do with rocket launching and space travel. He was the one who’d sold the idea of going to live on Mars to his friends. At twenty-five and a half, Koi was the youngest of them all.
These three were friends with both Chris and Monica. Chris sometimes spent time with the other guys without his girlfriend but it didn’t happen often. It wasn’t as though Chris was under her thumb; the two simply loved spending time together.
All five of the friends were looking forward to this journey, especially having talked about it for months on end.
CHAPTER 8
CARROL’S EXPERIENCE ON THE TRAIN
Monica, who was sitting next to Chris, picked up a small sandwich from the plate in front of her. She’d barely eaten a mouthful before she spotted Carrol in a seat nearby looking absolutely terrified, clutching the armrest tightly, her eyes clamped shut.
Carrol dared to open her eyes and caught Monica staring. Nervous, and wondering whether Monica was judging her, she quickly looked straight ahead at nothing in particular, trying to suppress the tears that were brewing under the surface. Carrol wasn’t prepared to let anyone see her cry, especially since she’d decided to start her life anew. Humming a tuneless song had always helped her to distract herself in the past and she hoped it would help her now. She hummed, looking out at nothing.
Monica nudged Chris and turned to the group. ‘What’s wrong with her? Seriously, guys, what’s up with her?’ she whispered, her eyes wide.
‘Weird!’ whispered Martin.
Carrol kept staring forward. I can hear you, she thought. And besides, there’s nothing wrong with me.
They all glanced over at her and then looked away. There was a momentary silence before they chuckled quietly with their heads close together. Then they sat back in their seats as though nothing had happened.
Carrol saw them laugh, including Martin; much as she tried to stifle her tears, one escaped down her cheek. She quickly swept it away and adjusted her glasses. She started fidgeting, trying to adjust her seat and sweeping her hand across her shoulder-length hair while continuing to hum.
She wasn’t sure what to make of Martin, whether he hated her or not. Her main memory of him was of that day on the sports ground when she couldn’t complete the obstacles task; Martin had become very upset with her and started calling her stupid. The next thing she knew, he was saving her life in the forest. That thought reminded her that she’d never had the opportunity to say thank you to him. Now they were on the train and he was laughing at her again with his friends.
Carrol was in her early twenties. A perpetual introvert, she preferred her own company to anyone else’s and lacked the ability to interact easily with other people. She was travelling alone on this trip.
She hated making eye contact; years of bullying had convinced her that she was ugly. Her four siblings made sure she never forgot it – not to mention the kids at school, who had called her ‘Scraggy’, saying that her hair was thin. Her mother never cared. Carrol had never really got over any of that.
She peered timidly through her dark hair at the group of five, who were now high-fiving each other, yelling and singing a song they all knew the words to.
They continued to talk loudly, a bunch of trailblazers who couldn’t wait to dive into their new lives on Mars, Carrol concluded. Chris Legger was saying something and smiling, nodding his head, mouthing the music they were singing. Everyone in his party followed suit, swaying from side to side as if dancing to silent music.
Carrol looked over again. She couldn’t understand how anyone wouldn’t have doubts or feel remorse about leaving behind everything they’d ever experienced.
‘Guys, guess what my secret ambition is?’ Morgan said.
‘I don’t know, maybe to play the biggest prank ever on your friends?’ Koi said nonchalantly. There was an explosion of laughter.
Carrol noticed that the people sitting in their carriage were casting scornful eyes at them after each outburst of laughter. The group soon realised that, from the shocked expressions on their faces, Carrol thought that perhaps they were disappointed that the others weren’t sharing their excitement.
Her eyes brushed past Mr Stevens, who gazed steadily at the group; maybe he was wondering what to make of their insensitive behaviour. He caught Chris’s eye, who smiled weakly but said nothing and just carried on nodding. Mr Stevens leaned back in his seat. Carrol wondered why h
e would smile at them, considering their behaviour. She concluded that he appreciated their behaviour because he considered they were young and excitable.
‘No, my lifelong ambition is to discover and produce a formula that can make people look and feel fit without working out,’ said Morgan. They all nodded.
‘That’s achievable,’ Koi said.
‘Mine is to drive a spaceship,’ Martin said.
‘Martin, you don’t even know how to drive a car, let alone a spaceship,’ Chris said.
‘How hard can it be? I hear its cockpit is like an airplane’s. All you have to do is touch a few buttons and it flies itself.’
‘Stop being flippant. Anyway, it isn’t going to happen,’ Monica said.
‘Don’t be too sure. I might just find an opportunity. Who knows?’ Martin said dreamily. ‘The spaceship commander may take one look at me and ask me to be his assistant.’
The rest of the group laughed again, but quietened down quickly, aware of the disapproving eyes. Carrol stole a look at Martin when she heard his secret ambition and quickly looked away, though she still listened in.
‘Well, I hope I never have to be on that ship,’ Monica said.
Carrol was not feeling well. She was already uneasy and now, after being laughed at and feeling the motion of the moving train, she felt a surge of sickness in the pit of her stomach.
Her mind wandered to the sad circumstances that had made her want to leave home. She didn’t blame her father as much as she blamed her mother, her two brothers and her two sisters. Somehow Daddy always knew the right things to say when an argument broke out between Carrol and her siblings, but what good was that when he was hardly ever home? She always made excuses for him as he worked long hours in the factory, trying to make ends meet, but she wrote about her sadness in her diary. Most days, she started with: If Daddy spent more time at home, then everything would be all right and the world would be a better place to live. Oh well, poor Daddy, he’s constantly working to keep the house going, otherwise how would we survive with no money? Mother never worked a day in her life and she isn’t looking to start anytime soon.
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