Mercy Point

by Anna Snoekstra

  ‘Your dad?’

  ‘Well, yeah. But not really.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘You know, I used to daydream about him all the time. Think about how much he must have loved me, imagine that I missed him. Now, I think it’s possible he never even knew that I existed.’

  Sam didn’t say anything, just stared up at the name. She put her hands back into the warmth of her pockets.

  ‘I’m doing this assignment about Russian sleeper agents, and at first I thought it was so crazy, you know? How was it even possible that someone could lie their whole lives? Like, how could they fall in love and have kids and lie to them every day? But the more I think about it, the more it seems entirely possible.’

  Sam nodded. She looked at him. ‘Do you want to know how I figured it out? I didn’t know all along, trust me.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Emma took a breath. She’d never told anyone about this, not even on the message board. But there was something about Sam that made her want to share this part of herself with him.

  ‘I was researching the cave-in at the library. I wanted to do an assignment on it. My teacher told me not to, said it was a bit raw for a lot of the students, but I felt like she just thought I’d make people feel uncomfortable. Looking back, maybe she was right. It wasn’t just me that lost a family member down there. Anyway, at the time I was really annoyed and decided, to hell with what she thought, I’d do it anyway. I was looking at old newspaper stories about the cave-in, and weirdly there wasn’t much about it. I thought there’d be more. The one thing I did find was a whole lot of photos from the memorial service. I was looking through them, not really expecting to see anything, when I came across a picture of my mum. She was holding some flowers, just standing in the crowd watching someone speak, looking like she was trying to cry. The thing was, the memorial service was August seventh. I double-checked the date, that’s definitely when it was.’

  She took another breath: this next bit was hard to say.

  ‘Why was the date important?’ Sam’s voice was quiet. He must be feeling how hard this was for her.

  ‘Because my birthday is August fourteenth, and my mum wasn’t pregnant in the picture.’

  Sam let a deep breath out through his teeth. ‘Wow.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He put an arm around her. She hadn’t thought she wanted him to, but now that he had, it was like it was what she’d been yearning for all along. It felt so good to be nestled into the warmth of his chest, her cheek pushing against the rough wool of his coat.

  The clouds went over the sun, and any warmth of the day disappeared with it.

  ‘It’s so cold,’ she said. ‘Do you want to go get a hot chocolate or something?’

  She felt him shrug. ‘I don’t really have any money.’

  Pulling away, she looked up at him. If he didn’t have money, what was he eating every day? He always seemed in high spirits when she saw him, but maybe things weren’t as good as he was leading her to believe.

  ‘On me,’ she said. ‘Come on.’

  She led the way towards her favourite cafe on the main street, a little bakery. They always had the heating on high there, and mixed with the smell of baking bread, it made the place feel really comfortable and toasty.

  She ordered the hot chocolates at the counter, and then went back to sit down with Sam. He grinned at her, all the seriousness she’d seen before gone from his face.

  ‘Thanks for sharing that story with me, Em,’ he said. ‘I know you never told us on the message board, so it must have been hard.’

  ‘Oh God.’ She grimaced, then laughed. ‘Let’s not talk about the message board. I’m glad it meant I met you. But the others, ugh. I don’t even want to think of all the private stuff I shared with them.’

  ‘I guess.’ His lip curled slightly.

  For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed irritated.

  ‘What?’

  Stretching back, he ran a hand over his face. ‘I’m just surprised, I guess. You seem like such an open person. Kind too.’

  Emma had the horrible feeling of conflicting emotions: on one hand flattered that he’d thought that, on the other horrified that he seemed to have so suddenly changed his mind.

  ‘I am open, it’s just different with these guys. You don’t get it because you don’t know them.’

  ‘Yeah, I do. I understand all of you guys really well. I spent almost a year with you in my back pocket.’

  Emma smiled, but still felt that familiar charge of wanting to debate, wanting to prove that she was right, that they were deluded.

  ‘But that’s different. It’s not the same as actually knowing people in real life.’

  ‘I don’t know. I think in some ways I was more honest with you guys on the message board than I was with people in my real life.’

  The waiter came over to the table with their hot chocolates, which luckily gave Emma a minute to think. He clunked them lightly onto the table.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, picking up her spoon straight away and stirring it. Sam picked his up too, and scooped some of the foam into his mouth.

  ‘Oh wow,’ he said with a grin, ‘this is really good.’

  She was happy to see his smile again and to feel some of the tension that was rapidly growing between them dissipate.

  ‘I can see what you mean,’ she spoke slowly, carefully choosing her words. ‘I felt like that too. I did. If it was other people, it would be different. But with these guys, I don’t know. Fabian’s not so bad, I guess. But he doesn’t even look at you properly when you talk to him, and he’s always letting Michael pick on him. I mean, I’ve never understood why he never stands up for himself.’

  ‘I guess he’s a pacifist. Isn’t that a good thing?’

  ‘I suppose.’ Emma shrugged. Really, she thought Fabian was a bit lame for letting Michael walk all over him.

  ‘And with the other thing. I don’t know, it makes me think of that thing he said. Do you remember? A few months back, how he said he feels like he lives more in the movies than in real life. Remember that?’

  She did. She hadn’t put it together until then, probably because she still hadn’t wholly accepted that her friends on the message board really were Fabian, Tessie and, most awful of all, Michael. They still seemed separate.

  Sam was sipping at his hot chocolate now, drinking it slowly like it was the most amazing thing he’d ever tasted. She took a gulp of her own. Let the sweet milkiness trickle down her throat. She didn’t even know why they were talking about the others, it was probably the last thing she wanted to discuss. She was just about to change the subject, when he continued.

  ‘And what about Tessie? I think she’s really cool.’

  ‘Do you? I think she seems incredibly boring and sort of rude.’

  ‘You think she’s boring?’ He looked genuinely shocked. ‘She’s so interesting! The way she spoke about everything was so intense, so passionate.’

  Emma was about to argue, but then things Tessie had said started popping into her head, like just the other day: If no one hears you, how do you know if you even spoke?

  She shook her head. ‘Okay, fine. But what about Michael? What on earth could be redeeming about him? He’s so horrible, so mean. Honestly, he’s probably a psychopath.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Yeah, sure, I get that he probably has a few apologies to make. Can’t help but feel bad for the guy a bit though, right?’

  ‘Feel bad? For Michael Brighton? You must be kidding. You know his dad owns Cameron Mines, right? He literally has everything money can buy, the sneakers, a new iPhone the minute they go on the market. Yet he still makes people feel terrible just for existing.’

  ‘Since when did material possessions count for everything?’

  Emma shook her head. She was starting to feel the heat of an argument boiling in her. Sam was wrong about this. Dead wrong. He had no idea what he was even talking about.

  ‘That’s not the point. I’m saying h
e’s a bully. You know, just last week he locked Fabian in the janitor’s closet? Fabian was so upset, he said he was claustrophobic. I mean, how messed up is that? For one, it’s so immature, like something you would do in primary school. But also, it’s just nasty. That’s what Michael is. Nasty.’

  For the first time since the hot chocolates had arrived, Sam put his down. He focused on Emma now.

  ‘You really don’t like him, do you?’

  ‘No, I hate him. And I think that is completely reasonable.’

  ‘Okay, fair enough. But do you remember that time he wrote to us about how he figured out he was adopted?’

  ‘How do you remember all this? Did you like study this thing?’

  He shrugged. ‘It meant a lot to me. Still does.’

  ‘Okay, sorry, go on.’

  The truth was, what Sam had begun to say was already pulling at the thread of a memory.

  ‘He said his dad came home late. That he’d been drinking, remember? This was ages ago, when Michael was probably only ten or eleven. He said his dad was angry with his mum, so angry. And when he saw Michael, he went nuts. I remember he said his face went bright red. Michael said it was the first time he was really truly afraid of him. Apparently, he yelled at Michael —’

  ‘I wish we’d never taken you in, it was the worst mistake of my life,’ Emma finished for him. She remembered when he’d told them that story. She’d almost started crying, imagining how much those words would have hurt. How they would have left a scar, something that couldn’t be healed, something that would last forever.

  ‘I just think we should give it another shot,’ Sam was saying. ‘We all know that this doesn’t add up. That we’re being lied to. I think the best chance we have at finding the truth is by doing it together. Don’t you think?’

  Emma didn’t even know what to think. Everything Sam had said had been stuff that she already knew, but she just hadn’t put it together. Or hadn’t wanted to. Now, she felt conflicted. She took a deep breath.

  ‘I guess, maybe.’

  ‘So you’ll think about it? I think we all need this.’

  Had that been what this was about: trying to convince her? Surely, that hadn’t been his motive for hanging out with her in the first place. But no, they’d just bumped into each other. And what they’d shared back at the memorial had felt real, charged, a genuine connection.

  ‘Okay,’ she said.

  He grinned that warm, sincere grin, and all her dumb suspicions fell away.

  ‘Cheers to that.’

  She laughed as they dinged their mugs together, then Sam tipped his head back and gulped down the last mouthfuls of his hot chocolate. He put it back on the saucer and she started laughing when she saw his face. The rim of the mug had left chocolate around the corners of his lips, creating an extended brown smile like the grin of a Cheshire cat.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  She snorted with laughter again.

  ‘What?’ He was laughing now too. ‘Is there something on my face?’

  She shook her head, leaned over and wiped off one side of it. ‘You’re so ridiculous,’ she said.

  His skin felt rough under her fingers. He was looking intensely at her, and then his eyes flicked over to the window. He pulled back, and his hand lifted up like he was waving at someone. Emma turned too and saw that standing outside the window was Michael. He turned away and kept walking, but in the second before he did, Emma saw the expression on his face. He’d looked utterly broken.

  CHAPTER 10

  TESSIE

  School hadn’t felt quite so bad that day. Tessie knew why. It was because of last night. She’d been at the video store for over an hour, just hanging out, and she hadn’t freaked out. She hadn’t spent the whole time thinking of excuses to leave or worrying about vomiting. It was a small thing, she knew that. But it represented so much. It felt like a triumph. It meant she wasn’t a total write-off. Maybe there was hope that, one day, she really could be a regular person.

  ‘Tess? Wait up.’

  She turned. It was Fabian, rushing up behind her, his bag smacking against his back as he ran.

  ‘You walk so quickly.’

  ‘Yeah, having legs four feet long helps with that.’

  Fabian smiled. ‘Rather four feet long than two feet long like me.’

  They kept walking, but together now. Tessie couldn’t think of anything to say.

  ‘Going home?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah. I’m not in a rush though. My mum always gives me a million things to do the minute I walk in the door.’

  ‘You should give her some of your fierce Tessie charm.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘You know,’ he smiled, then raised his hand above his head and brought it down swiftly, ‘whoopish. Like a whip.’

  She shook her head and laughed. Was that really the way people saw her?

  ‘Don’t you ride a bike?’ she asked. She’d seen him on it a bunch of times over the years.

  His face changed for a moment. ‘It’s getting repaired.’

  She was about to ask him what happened, but he stopped walking.

  ‘This is my turn-off,’ he said. ‘See you later, maybe?’

  She shrugged, and he shrugged back, turned the corner and walked up the hill.

  She walked slowly the rest of the way, thinking of what he’d said to her when she’d left yesterday. He’d said he was working again tomorrow, which was now tonight, and she should come by again if she was bored. He’d said it like it was no big deal, and she’d felt giant and silly standing and staring at him in just her running clothes, as though his invitation meant the world to her. But he never looked at her like she was giant and stupid. He looked at her as if she was totally normal. Like it was actually possible that they might be friends. It was a nice offer, though she knew she wouldn’t take him up on it. Last night had been a one-off thing.

  Still, she was in no hurry to go home and have to talk to her mum. She stopped off in the bookstore, leafing through paperbacks and wasting time. Eventually, the shop attendant started looking at her. Not wanting him to think she was stealing, she left. Still, the good feeling she’d had all day was still there.

  Walking up towards their bungalow, she saw her reflection in the windows. She wasn’t hunching.

  ‘Honey! Is that you?’ her mum called as Tessie opened the door. She rolled her eyes. Who else would it be?

  ‘Yep,’ she said.

  ‘Oh good, I was worried about you, you’re a bit later than normal.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry. I was just hanging out with a friend,’ she said, expecting an onslaught of questions. She’d never mentioned a friend before.

  ‘That’s nice, sweetheart,’ her mum replied, appearing out of Tessie’s room. ‘I’m going out for a few hours, so keep an eye on reception until six, okay?’

  Her mother was wearing Tessie’s silver necklace, the one her dad brought back for her on her last birthday. She remembered the way it had felt when she’d slipped it out of the little purple velvet bag into her hand. It was so light and fragile, the tiny pendant cold on her skin.

  ‘It’s from Denmark,’ he’d said. ‘Seeing that you’re nearly a woman now, you need a piece of proper jewellery.’

  She’d only ever worn it at home, terrified she’d lose it. Staring at herself in the mirror, she’d imagine what kind of adult she might one day be and where she would go the first time she wore it out of the house.

  Her mother leaned over to slip on her shoes; the necklace hovered in the air.

  ‘That’s mine,’ Tessie said.

  ‘Sorry?’ her mum said, looking at herself in the mirror now. Smearing on lipstick and smacking her lips together.

  ‘That’s my necklace. Dad gave it to me.’

  ‘Yes, I know that, Sayangku. I didn’t think you’d mind.’ She was still gazing at herself in the hall mirror.

  The anger boiled inside Tessie. She tried to push it down, to just breathe. She couldn’t. The necklace shone in
the light.

  ‘I don’t want you to wear it, it’s special to me,’ she said, trying to relax, trying to keep her voice even.

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly, it looks perfect with this top.’

  ‘Take it off!’ Her voice came out loud and crackly, a barely suppressed yell. Finally her mother looked at her.

  ‘Honey, I’m really not in the mood. Today has been the worst day, I’ve had the most horrible guests. Sometimes running this place by myself just gets a little too much, sometimes I just need to go out with my girlfriends and have a little adult time. Is that really so much to ask? Don’t I deserve a little fun? Your father has the time of his life every single day, don’t I deserve just one night?’

  She pulled her jacket from the hook. Usually, that would settle things. Her mother would waltz out, Tessie would sit at home stewing in her anger, then go for a run until she couldn’t feel anything anymore. When her mother got home, Tessie would apologise; it was just easier that way.

  Her mother pulled open the door and for some reason, the image of Fabian miming cracking a whip came into Tessie’s mind.

  ‘Can I go now? Is that okay with you, Tessie?’

  ‘No,’ Tessie said very softly, ‘I want you to give back my necklace. I don’t want you to wear it.’

  ‘Oh for goodness sakes!’

  ‘Give it back!’ she yelled. ‘I do everything I can for you, Mum, but I just can’t do this one thing, okay? Please!’

  Her mother looked at her, shocked. ‘Fine,’ she said, unclipping the necklace and throwing it at Tessie, then walking out the door in a huff.

  Tessie bent down and picked up the necklace from where it had fallen on the carpet. She knew she should be feeling guilty, but somehow, she didn’t. Instead, she took the cold silver necklace into her room and put it back in its little purple bag.

  After a few hours at home, she started to feel bored. It was a strange feeling for Tessie. Ordinarily, she could happily wile away hours upon hours when she was by herself and never feel anything close to boredom. Also, she was a little worried about what kind of mood her mother would be in when she got home. After a few drinks, she often came home sobbing and it was Tessie’s job to console her.