Mercy Point

by Anna Snoekstra

TESSIE

  Tessie lay on the motel bed. Her stomach cramped painfully. She didn’t want to leave the room until she had it under control, but she didn’t have long left. All day she’d felt sick knowing that hour by hour she was getting closer to the time she’d be meeting the others. Even the thought terrified her, but words kept echoing around and around in her mind: She had to do this, she had to do this, she had to do this.

  She took deep breaths and stared up at the familiar cracked ceiling of room twelve. Trying to forget about the meeting, just for a moment, she focused on the soft cushioning of the uncovered mattress under her hands and the faint plastic smell of the cheap carpet that never went away. To most people, the room would look dingy, but it was her place and being there somehow always made her feel better. Tessie was in one of the motel rooms that they never used. The shower head had rusted and so the water came out a brassy brown colour. It was on their maintenance list, but as far as fix-ups went there were always more pressing things to be dealt with. Tessie’s father had always said he’d fix the shower himself. But when he was home, there were so many other more fun things to do. Tessie’s dad was in a band. Even though it had been more than a decade since they’d had a number-one single, he was more often on tour than at home.

  Her mum hadn’t noticed how much time Tessie had begun to spend in room twelve, probably because she climbed in and out through the back window. Even though the room wasn’t used, she had a feeling her mum wouldn’t like her hanging out there. Tessie liked it here a lot more than she liked her bedroom in their bungalow out the back. She could be really alone here.

  That was part of the reason she didn’t want to meet the others. Talking on the board felt so safe, so comfortable. If she went to meet them, she’d be pulling down her walls. She would be opening herself up to being hurt, to them thinking she was weird. Tessie was terrified that they wouldn’t like her. Or, maybe worse, that she’d freak out in front of them. That she’d start vomiting or something and then she’d have to run away and then that would be it. The way they’d look at her. Then she really would be alone. Absolutely and completely.

  Her phone buzzed.

  PumpkinDreams: I’m almost there. So excited!

  Tessie ran to the bathroom. Her stomach cramped again, like two hands squashing it flat between them. She vomited into the toilet. It stung her nose and hurt her throat and made her eyes water. She vomited again, her body sweating, the sound of it disgusting. Again and again, her stomach clenched until she was just dry-retching into the water. She leaned back against the tiles. This was good, in some ways. If she vomited now, it meant that everything was out. She wouldn’t have to be afraid of vomiting later, in front of them all, if there was nothing inside her.

  She closed her eyes. This was so exhausting. When was the first time that this had happened? She wasn’t sure. It was less than a year ago, of that she was certain. But she couldn’t remember exactly, only that it had all happened suddenly. It was like she’d been pulled with violent force underwater, and every day she felt like she was only sinking down further and further. Now, she could only remember a glimmer of what she used to be. A girl who had once been able to handle situations like this, a girl who’d never been especially popular, but who did have friends. A girl who wasn’t afraid to wear colours, who hadn’t liked talking in class, but hadn’t been afraid of it either. She’d just disliked it in the way she’d disliked going to the dentist or spending too long with her mother. Something unpleasant but bearable. Definitely not something that would make her sick for days. That would make her unable to eat, that gave her nightmares.

  If she’d been that girl once, surely she should be able to be like that again.

  She had to get some kind of control back. If she didn’t go to this meeting, maybe she’d stay like this forever. Too afraid to do anything worth doing. No. No matter how much it scared her, no matter how sick it made her feel, she couldn’t let these people disappear from her life. She needed them. Getting up off the floor, she splashed some water on her face. She sipped some into her mouth then spat it out. Then she took a deep breath and hopped out the back window before she had a chance to hesitate. She was doing this.

  The cold air of outside felt nice against her hot skin as she crept around the back way. Her mum would no doubt hold her up, maybe even telling her not to go at all, that she needed her for some chore or just for company. If she went this way, hopefully she’d get out unspotted. Her mum was a mess when her dad was on tour, which meant she was a mess most of the time. She circled around the back and came out on the main road.

  ‘Tess!’

  Tessie whirled around. Her mother was in her car, her head sticking out of the window. She motioned for Tessie to come over. Tessie did so, reluctantly.

  ‘What were you doing going out that way?’ she asked.

  Tessie shrugged. ‘Shortcut.’

  Her mother looked over her shoulder at where she’d been walking and didn’t seem convinced, but she continued anyway. ‘I was looking everywhere for you, Sayangku. I just have to go and run some errands, but room seven needs cleaning. Do you mind doing it? They only stayed one night so it shouldn’t be too bad.’

  ‘Mum, I was just leaving too!’

  Her mother looked surprised. ‘Don’t get upset with me, Tess. We all have to pitch in, you know that. Believe me, I’d much rather be with your father exploring Amsterdam in summer than be here right now buying toilet paper in bulk and freezing my bum off.’

  ‘Okay, all good. Sorry,’ Tessie said and turned around. Maybe if she did the room really quickly, she’d still get there in time to meet them.

  ‘See you soon, Tessie. Oh and don’t forget Gumption for the shower! Spray just isn’t enough.’

  Tessie ignored her. She definitely wasn’t planning on doing any more than the bare minimum. She went into reception and grabbed the key, then walked over to room seven. As soon as she opened the door, her heart sank. The ashtray was full of cigarettes, there were towels on the floor with suspicious-looking brown stains on them and there were dirty takeaway containers on the bed. This was disgusting. It was going to take ages to clean, she’d never make it. Her phone buzzed.

  M.Dot: I’ve got to be honest, I’m a bit nervous.

  Fontaine: Me too. But it’s okay, we know each other. I don’t think we’d ever judge each other or be disappointed. This is just the natural next step, it’s only the beginning!

  Tessie looked from the screen of her phone, up to the stinking mess waiting for her. It smelled like old curry and rancid sweat. Tessie turned around again, closed the door and put the key back in her pocket. Her mum had said she’d be gone for an hour. She had been brave enough to peel herself off the bathroom floor and commit to doing this, she should be brave enough to risk disobeying her mother. If she only stayed for half an hour, she’d still have time to at least make a good start on the room.

  She sprinted out of the motel and down onto the main road, feeling reckless. A tingle of excitement ran through her. She was actually doing this.

  Every day, she felt a sort of serene joy when she saw Mercy Point. Even though it was one of the big tourist attractions of Mount Cobalt, it felt special to her, personal. It was just so beautiful: a huge crater that seemed to go on impossibly, the rocky peaks of the Three Mercies rising on the left. When she saw it, everything fell away just for a millisecond as her eyes took it all in. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live somewhere else, to not see this amazing mystical place every time she left home.

  It was foggy and Mercy Point was cloaked in a thin mist. Her stomach calmed a little as she walked down the hill towards it. She was so glad they had decided to meet there.

  If she could talk to them online, then she’d probably be able to talk to them in person. It would feel so good not to just type her feelings, but to say them out loud. Perhaps they’d ask her when she knew that her parents weren’t her real parents. She’d never told anyone, but perhaps she could tell them. It was las
t year, when her dad was back. Everything at home changed when he was there. Their family was whole again. Usually, she would wander home slowly from school. When her dad was back, she would sprint.

  It was on one of those rare Saturday mornings where they got to all wake up late and have breakfast together that she’d figured it out. She was eating Vegemite toast; her parents were in the kitchen laughing about something. Her mum’s eyes filled with that sparkle they only had when her dad was home. He was wearing one of his own band T-shirts like he usually did; he had one from every tour he’d ever done. Perhaps he wanted to remind everyone in town that he was famous. Like they’d ever be able to forget.

  She’d stared at the back of his shirt, not really seeing it. Then suddenly, she did. It was a three-month tour the year she was born. Without even choosing to, her brain did the maths. She deducted nine months from her birthday. He would have been in Europe.

  ‘Did you miss Mum on that tour?’ she’d asked, pointing to her dad’s shirt and focusing on keeping her voice clear and even.

  ‘I always do.’ He’d kissed her mother’s cheek softly. Her mother had giggled and swatted him away.

  ‘She didn’t come to visit you?’

  ‘I wish!’ her mother had said. The bitterness was buried, but Tessie could still hear it in her voice.

  No matter how frustrated her mum got, Tessie knew she would never cheat on her father. Her world began and ended with Tessie’s dad. If her dad wasn’t her real father, then her mother wasn’t her real mother either.

  Tessie pushed away the memory. She was almost there. As she approached the entrance to the Mercy Point Lookout, she forced herself to straighten her back. Her mother told her that stooping made her look like she was eighty years old. She glanced around, expecting to see a group of friendly-looking people waiting for her. There were a few tourists and some kids from school. One of them was Emma Arling. Tessie turned away. She didn’t want to talk to Emma. Not after what had happened in science. It was so embarrassing, now Emma probably thought she was absolutely crazy. But then again, she tried to remind herself, she didn’t like Emma. Even today, she had caused such a stupid scene about the Chinese Whispers game. Tessie couldn’t understand why she hadn’t just changed the message to something else, if she hadn’t wanted to repeat it. That wasn’t Emma’s style; it felt like she always had to be making a point about something. Tessie was the opposite: sometimes she felt like she didn’t care about anything.

  Although she had to admit it, she’d been a little pleased when Emma had stood up to Michael. She hated that guy. Every time she interacted with him, no matter how briefly, she always ended up feeling awful about herself. Luckily, it was rare. Her chameleon act had worked on him, and most of the time it seemed like he didn’t even see her.

  Carefully choosing a bench not too close to Emma’s, she waited. Looking at her watch, she checked that it had only gone one minute past four. They were probably still on their way. She tightly wrapped her jacket around herself, her knee jiggling. The sick feeling in her stomach was coming back.

  As though he knew Tessie was thinking of him, Michael walked up the hill, right behind Fabian. Michael was always picking on Fabian. He was probably planning some mean trick on him, Tessie thought. She looked away, not wanting to see what he was going to do, and checked her watch again. It was five past. A thought crept slowly into her mind. What if they weren’t coming? The idea made her feel sick, queasy and light-headed all at once. They weren’t going to turn up.

  She had been about to jump to her feet and get the hell out of here. Then she saw him: a guy in a dark red beanie that she had never seen round Cameron before. He was looking around as though he was expecting someone. Maybe he was one of them.

  Are you guys here yet? she typed into her phone.

  She heard a ding, and the boy looked down and pulled out his mobile phone. He was one of them! Then she heard another ding. Emma looked down at her phone. And another, from Fabian. And another: Michael.

  They looked at each other, the truth slowly dawning on each of them. No. It wasn’t possible. How could these be the people she had shared her heart and soul with?

  ‘Hi, guys,’ said the guy in the red beanie, his eyes warm and kind. ‘I’m Sam.’ His beam faltered as he looked around.

  ‘Not you,’ Emma said loudly to Michael.

  ‘Afraid so,’ Michael said, but he was looking at his shoes.

  Tessie was sure she was going to be sick. Or burst into tears. Or both. She couldn’t let them see it. So she turned and walked slowly away from them. No one called out for her to stay. She stared at her feet the whole way back to the motel. The sickness mutating into a dull, empty thud in her head. When she arrived at the motel, she slipped on some rubber gloves and unlocked the door to room seven.

  CHAPTER 5

  MICHAEL

  ‘What next?’ Tom yelled over the blaring Kendrick Lamar song. The car swerved dangerously close to a parked car as he turned to look at Michael.

  ‘The wheelie bin,’ Michael replied, ‘ten points.’

  The green wheelie bin was on the side of the road around ten metres ahead of them. It was standing on a precarious angle on the corner of the kerb and the driveway. Michael wondered if it was full.

  ‘Twenty if you knock it over,’ he added.

  Michael turned the music up a little louder. The steady bass was reverberating in his skull. It was pushing out the memory of what happened a few hours ago. Good, he didn’t want to think about that.

  Tom slowed slightly as they approached, although he was still going above the speed limit. Michael pulled two tennis balls out of Tom’s dad’s gym bag and handed one to Tom. He swiftly zipped it back up; the pong of Tom’s dad’s gym shorts was overwhelming. Winding down his window, he took aim and threw the ball at the bin. Both tennis balls smashed into the bin’s side, toppling it over. Trash went everywhere.

  ‘Baaam!’ he yelled. ‘Twenty points each!’

  He wound his window back up. They were lucky that Tom’s dad’s car had tinted windows. If anyone saw it was them driving it, they would be in huge trouble, not that Michael cared. Tom was a year older than him. He had repeated a year, but he still wasn’t old enough to have his P-plates, or even his L-plates for that matter.

  ‘When’s your dad home from work?’ Michael asked, noticing that the sky was starting to darken.

  ‘Pretty soon, I think,’ Tom said. He was worried, Michael could tell. But he didn’t want to admit it; he was waiting for Michael to say he could go home. For a moment, Michael considered telling him they should stay out a bit longer. He liked seeing the power he had over people and he wondered how long it would take until Tom would admit he really had to go home. Then again, if Tom was grounded, Michael wouldn’t have anyone to hang out with.

  ‘I’ve gotta go home now anyway,’ Michael said. ‘Pig Man’s on the warpath at the moment. Don’t want to give him an excuse.’

  ‘No worries,’ said Tom, relieved.

  They drove up on the hill to Michael’s house. Michael didn’t know why he even cared what those losers thought of him. It wasn’t like he wanted to be friends with them anyway. Having Tom as his best friend was the way it was meant to be. It had basically been pre-decided; both of their fathers had top jobs at Cameron Mining.

  ‘Couldn’t believe what Emma called me today,’ Michael said.

  ‘It was pretty funny.’

  ‘Yeah, but you should have seen her when we were waiting for the principal. Wasn’t so tough then. Looked like she was going to pee herself.’

  They both laughed. Michael wished he hadn’t apologised to Emma and the principal. He’d only done it so he wouldn’t miss meeting the others after school. Now he wished he’d got detention.

  As the car climbed the hill, he saw a cyclist up ahead. He could tell by the little twiggy arms and legs that it was his next-door neighbour, Fabian. He’d never liked Fabian much; he was such a quiet, boring sissy at school and his family looked so over-the
-top happy all the time.

  Now he hated Fabian.

  ‘A hundred points,’ he said, pointing to Fabian.

  Tom looked at him, but he knew not to question. As they got closer, he could see that Fabian had a shopping bag on each handlebar. Probably helping his mum with groceries for dinner. How sweet. He turned off the music, so Fabian wouldn’t hear their approach. The evening felt so quiet. He could hear the soft hum of the motor, the crunch of the tyres on the road and the clicking of Fabian’s wheels. His back looked so puny in front of them, his shoulders almost narrower than a girl’s. Michael imagined a target right in the middle of it.

  ‘Ready?’ Michael whispered.

  Tom nodded. The windows whirred as they went down, but Fabian didn’t turn.

  ‘Go!’ yelled Michael. He threw his tennis ball with all his force, with all the anger he felt, all the humiliation.

  It was as if it was all happening in slow motion. Tom’s ball whizzed over Fabian’s shoulder, as if he wasn’t even trying. Michael’s hit the bullseye. It smashed right between the shoulder blades. The bike tipped and then fell. Then everything went fast again and they were driving past Fabian, who was sprawled on the side of the road amongst his smashed-up groceries. They howled with laughter as they zoomed away.

  ‘One hundred points! Plus, I knocked him over, so that’s two hundred points!’ said Michael, but something gnawed at the pit of his stomach. It didn’t feel as good as he thought it would and Tom didn’t quite look him in the eye when he dropped him off home.

  Michael hated his father. He always had. His dad was fat and lazy, with a red face. He looked remarkably like a pig. He thought that, just because he made the money for the family, he should be treated like some kind of king. Michael wasn’t even surprised when he got home a few weeks back to find his mother gone. Who would voluntarily stick around Pig Man? Michael would leave himself the first chance he had.

  Quick as he could, he made two-minute noodles and went upstairs to his room to eat. He was glad he had a television in his bedroom. It meant that once he was in there he could stay there for the rest of the night. Some evenings he and his dad didn’t speak at all, which was great. He was extra glad today to have the TV. With a dumb sitcom on and the volume blaring, it meant he didn’t have to think. He lay back on his sheets, balancing the bowl on his stomach. His sheets were pretty dirty; they hadn’t been washed in a long time. The faint smell of his body clung to them. His room was getting bad too — there were clothes strewn everywhere and plates with crumbs on them. Pig Man had a cleaner that came twice a week, but he had made a point of telling her not to go into Michael’s room.