Running from the Tiger

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Running from the Tiger Page 5

by Aleesah Darlison


  ‘It’s beautiful.’ Longingly, I traced a finger over its curves. Tears pricked my eyes and I yanked my hand away. ‘But I can’t take it.’

  ‘Ebony, I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong.’ I turned away, not wanting Teena to see me cry.

  Teena stopped me and pressed the bundle into my hand. ‘I want you to have it. And when you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen. You can tell me anything. I mean it.’

  Then she hopped on her bike and rode away. Blubbering like an idiot, I watched her leave, not caring who saw me cry anymore.

  How could I tell anyone about what was happening to me at home? I was so ashamed. It was my horrible secret. Mine alone. It was my punishment for being bad. No one would ever understand, no one could ever feel the same as me. No one else at school was being hit. I was the only one.

  No, there would be no sharing from me.

  That night I slept holding Teena’s dragon. I didn’t show it to anyone at home. I was afraid if I did, Mum might make me give it back or the girls might play with it and accidentally break it. To me, that dragon was the most precious thing I owned.

  In the morning, I hid the dragon under my mattress, hoping no one would find it. I would have preferred to take it to school with me, but I didn’t want to break it either. Or lose it, which would be even worse.

  When I arrived at school, Teena was waiting for me. ‘I thought I’d head you off before you locked yourself in the loos again.’

  I couldn’t help smiling. It was harder being mean to Teena than I’d expected.

  ‘Feel like coming over to my place this afternoon?’ she said.

  ‘You don’t give up, do you?’ I wasn’t angry, just worn down.

  Teena smiled. ‘Look, I know you’ve got your reasons for not showing up on Sunday, so don’t worry about it. We can still be friends.’

  ‘I know,’ I sighed, parking my bike. I could feel the walls around me crumbling. ‘And you did give me the dragon.’

  ‘You mean you like it?’

  ‘I love it.’

  ‘So, you’ll come over?’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, remembering Dad was working this afternoon. ‘I’ll have to drop by home and ask Mum first, but it should be fine.’

  ‘Great. Now, do you want to hear some goss about our two favourite people?’

  ‘Spill.’

  Teena looped her arm through mine as we strode off to class.

  ‘Dad told me why the twins were away yesterday. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t want it getting back to Mr Gordon, but of course, I have to tell you. Are you ready for it?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘The twins have nits. Mrs Gordon’s keeping them home until they’re in the clear so no one will know.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Yes way. They’re so infested they’ll probably have to shave their heads.’

  ‘Who’s shaving their head?’ asked Kyle, strolling past.

  ‘No one,’ Teena and I said together.

  That afternoon when we got to Teena’s, I was surprised to see how little furniture they had. They looked worse off than us, which was saying something.

  Their lounge was one of those cheap fold-out sofas that doubles as a bed. Their TV stand was a plastic milk crate. A long, low bench with an empty vase on it sat under one window while a dining table and three cheap, plastic chairs occupied the kitchen. That was about it.

  Teena caught me staring. ‘Sorry the place looks empty. Most of our stuff is still in storage.’

  ‘Oh, right, so where are your parents?’ I accepted her explanation. It kind of made sense.

  Teena’s little brother, Luke, gave her a funny look. She shoved a cookie in his mouth, propelled him into the lounge room then sat me down at the kitchen table. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you,’ she said. ‘Dad’s still at work.’

  ‘I figured that. Does he leave you alone much?’

  She nodded. ‘Put it this way: he doesn’t pay for babysitters.’

  ‘What about your mum?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve got to tell you. You see, my mum isn’t an astronaut.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘No kidding. So, what does she do?’

  Teena licked her lips. ‘Mum, well, Mum doesn’t do anything.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘My mum died three years ago.’

  ‘Is this one of your jokes, because if it is – ’

  ‘No, Mum really did die. She had cancer.’

  My mouth formed a huge O. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Teena sighed as she scratched at the worn tabletop. ‘People treat me differently when I tell them, like I have something wrong with me.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t want people feeling sorry for me so I don’t tell anyone anymore.’

  ‘They’re probably trying to be nice.’

  ‘I know, but it still makes me feel funny.’

  ‘So, why did you tell me?’

  ‘Because the truth won’t change you. You’re not fake.’

  ‘Or nice, right?’

  Teena laughed and shook her head. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  ‘Do the twins know?’

  ‘Not yet. I bet Mr Gordon will blab eventually, though. Now, let’s change the subject.’ She took my hands in hers and grinned. ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘Um, can I see your dragons?’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

  Teena jumped up and skipped down the hallway, leading me along. ‘That’s Luke’s stinky hovel.’ We passed a scantily furnished bedroom with piles of toys and discarded clothing carpeting the floor. ‘And this is my room.’ She threw her arms wide with a flourish.

  I took in the narrow bed, the shabby wardrobe and the blood red cabinet near the window before turning my attention to the walls. They were covered in drawings of rainbows, dragons, dancing fairies and other mystical creatures. Some of the drawings had been painted in bright, glittering colours, bringing the scenes to life. The walls already looked amazing. When they were finished, they’d be spectacular.

  ‘Did you do this?’ I swivelled around, gaping at the walls.

  ‘Dad did most of it. I helped.’

  ‘Did he teach you to draw?’

  Teena nodded. ‘Mum, too. She was better than Dad and had a few exhibitions, but she never made it to the big time.’

  There was no note of sadness in Teena’s voice when she talked about her mum. Only pride and love. It gave me a lump in my throat.

  Teena steered me over to the glass-fronted cabinet. ‘These are my dragons.’

  I gazed inside. A glass dragon stood on its hind feet, its neck arched and orange flames spurting from its mouth. A pewter dragon lay sleeping, curled around a crystal ball. A purple dragon sat inside a cave, looking longingly out. I’d never seen so many dragons before. Each one was different.

  ‘They’re awesome,’ I said. ‘Where did you get them?’

  ‘Mostly from saving my pocket money. Others are presents. My favourite is the one Mum gave me.’ Teena opened the cabinet and took out a green dragon with rainbow coloured wings. ‘It’s the first one I ever got.’ She pressed the dragon in my hand. Electricity zapped through me. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I glanced at Teena, puzzled.

  ‘You felt it, too,’ she said.

  ‘Felt what?’

  She shrugged. ‘The magic.’

  ‘Magic?’

  ‘Dragons are magical creatures,’ Teena explained. ‘This one especially because Mum gave it to me. It’s filled with all her love and energy so even though she’s gone she’s still watching over me.’

  Teena plucked the dragon from my hand. She held it to her chest and closed her eyes. ‘All I have to do is hold her dragon and I feel stronger.’ She opened her eyes and fixed me with her sky-blue stare. ‘You probably don’t believe me, but it’s true.’

  ‘I believe you,’ I said, although I wasn’t sure if I did.

 
; Teena returned the dragon to its shelf and smiled. ‘Dragons really are special, you know. The one I gave you is the same as Mum’s except for the colouring. Your dragon might be magical, too, Ebony. You just have to believe.’

  I giggled nervously, not sure if she was joking.

  Teena shut the cabinet and turned to face me. ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Starved.’

  ‘Me, too. Let’s see what’s in the kitchen.’

  Teena riffled through the few boxes and packets that were in the pantry. ‘Ah-ha!’ She held up a rectangular packet. ‘I don’t know how this survived so long. Do you like jelly?’

  ‘That’ll take hours to set.’

  ‘We’re not going to make it, silly. Just eat the crystals.’

  ‘Won’t you get in trouble? I mean, all that sugar is bad for your teeth.’

  ‘Who’s gonna stop us?’ She looked left and right over each shoulder with a cheeky grin.

  I grinned back at her. ‘Fair enough. I’ve never eaten jelly crystals before.’

  ‘You haven’t lived!’

  We sat at the table savouring the sweet, crunchy jelly crystals and looking through Teena’s family photo albums. There were loads of shots of Teena’s mum and dad together.

  ‘They look so happy,’ I said.

  ‘They were,’ Teena said. ‘Dad misses her heaps. He still talks about her all the time. Sometimes, so we don’t forget her, other times because he wants to remember her.’

  ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me before. I feel awful.’

  Teena patted my arm and gave a half-hearted smile. ‘Don’t. It was all so long ago. Luke was too young to remember and Dad’s been better this past year.’ She glanced at me and I saw in her eyes something that should have belonged to a much older person. I guess losing her mum had made her grow up in ways I could only imagine. I shivered at the thought.

  I knew there was more to it than she was letting on, but I didn’t want to pry. ‘You sound like you really love your Dad,’ I said to change the subject.

  ‘Of course I do.’ Teena laughed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. ‘What about your parents? What are they like?’

  ‘Nothing special.’ I slammed the album shut and shoved it away from me. ‘Speaking of parents, I’d better go.’

  ‘Not yet. I’ve got one more thing to show you.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘My dress up clothes.’

  I glanced at the clock. ‘Okay. Another half hour. Then I really, really have to go.’

  ‘Are the dress up clothes in here?’ I ran into Teena’s bedroom and opened her wardrobe, peering inside. Except for two dresses, one pair of neatly folded jeans, a few shirts and the uniform she’d worn on her first day of school, the cupboard was bare.

  Teena leapt in front of me and slammed the door. ‘Not in there.’ Blushing, she skipped into her dad’s room. ‘In here.’

  I hung back. ‘I can’t go in there.’

  ‘Why not?’ Teena danced around the room as if she owned it.

  ‘Won’t your dad mind?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s his room.’

  ‘I come in here all the time. Dad doesn’t care.’

  Teena pulled me towards an old exercise bike near the window. ‘Hop on.’ She pointed to the speedo. ‘Watch this dial. See if you can break my record of a hundred k’s an hour.’

  While I pedalled, Teena dived under the bed and hauled out a battered red leather suitcase. She unclipped the locks and threw the lid back to reveal piles of neatly folded clothes. On top sat a wooden jewellery box with flowers carved into the lid.

  ‘These were Mum’s. Dad kept them for me and Luke. Come have a look.’

  I hopped off the bike and knelt beside Teena. She held a pearl necklace up for me to take. Feeling like an intruder, I hesitated. ‘Are you sure your dad won’t mind?’

  ‘No way. These are mine. I can look at them whenever I like.’

  ‘Will he mind me touching them?’

  ‘Of course not, silly. He’d be happy I was showing them to someone special.’

  Teena sat the jewellery box to one side and unfurled a mulberry coloured dress. The bodice was covered in beads, the straight skirt split up one side. I’d never seen anything so beautiful before. It reminded me of one of the glamorous dresses the Hollywood stars wear in movies or in magazines.

  ‘Try it on. It’s a bit long, but the colour will suit you.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Stop worrying. I dress up in Mum’s clothes all the time.’

  I held the dress against me as I studied my reflection in the mirror.

  Teena read my thoughts. ‘It’s because she’s dead, right?’

  I winced. ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Don’t think of it like that. We’re just having a bit of fun. Really, Mum wouldn’t mind. Neither would Dad.’

  ‘Are you going to try something on?’

  Teena held up a blue dress. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘It matches your eyes.’

  ‘It matched Mum’s, too. Hers were the same colour as mine. Now, come on, you face that way and I’ll face this way and we’ll try the dresses on.’

  I took my uniform off and slipped into the mulberry dress. The silk against my skin was cool and deliciously soft. I reached behind me for the zip. It was stuck. ‘Can you do me up?’

  It wasn’t until I heard Teena gasp that I realised I’d forgotten the marks on my back.

  ‘Ebony, what happened?’ Her voice trembled with shock.

  I spun around and backed away. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘It doesn’t look like nothing.’

  Teena forced me to turn around so she could take another look. Her fingers traced along the lines on my back.

  ‘Who did this?’ she asked.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve got to – ’

  ‘Was it your mum?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Your dad?’

  ‘Yes. All right?’ I turned away from her. ‘Happy now? Want to tell the world about it? Have a laugh with Chloe and Miranda, maybe? My dad isn’t perfect like everyone else’s, okay?’

  ‘My dad isn’t perfect, either,’ Teena said. ‘And you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. I’d never ever do that.’

  We looked at each other for a while without speaking.

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ I said eventually, realising it was the truth.

  ‘Is this why you didn’t come over on Sunday?’ Teena said.

  I nodded.

  Teena’s face paled. ‘Did he hit you because of me?’

  ‘No! No. Dad doesn’t need a reason to hit me. You won’t say anything will you? Not to your dad or the teachers or anyone. I couldn’t bear it if anyone else knew, I just couldn’t.’

  Teena gently swung her arm around my shoulders and made me sit on the bed. ‘This is awful. You should have told me.’

  ‘I didn’t want anyone to know. I still don’t.’

  ‘You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, though your dad sure has.’ Her sky eyes flashed with anger. Her voice clinked like knives on steel. ‘Hitting kids is wrong. You can’t let him to do this to you, Ebony.’

  ‘I don’t let him. Besides, sometimes I do bad things. I deserve to be punished.’ I sighed. ‘It’s his way of disciplining me.’

  Teena stared at me like I’d grown a second head. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘No.’

  My cheeks suddenly grew hot. I hated, hated, hated talking about this stuff. I stared at my hands, too ashamed to look Teena in the eye.

  ‘What could you possibly do to deserve this?’

  ‘I don’t know. Stuff.’

  ‘There are people you can talk to about this. People who’ll help you.’

  ‘Take me away you mean.’ I shook my head. ‘I wouldn’t want that. I’d have to leave Mum and May and Rose. I’d have to leave school. No. I don’t want to tell anyone.’

  Just then, Luke poked his shagg
y head around the door. ‘I’m hungry, sis. When’s dinner?’

  ‘Soon, Lukey. Hop in the shower and I’ll get it started.’

  Luke trotted off like an obedient puppy.

  ‘Dad gets home at six,’ Teena explained. ‘You want to stay for dinner so you can meet him?’

  ‘I can’t. I’ve stayed too long already.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re missing. I’m a master at heating frozen pizza.’

  I smiled. ‘Maybe next time.’

  ‘So there will be a next time?’

  ‘Whenever I can.’

  ‘Awesome.’

  I changed out of the mulberry-coloured dress and said goodbye. It was almost dark outside. As I cycled past the pale headstones in the cemetery a chill prickled the back of my neck and marched up my scalp. I pedalled faster, eager to escape the cemetery and any lurking spooks.

  Then I thought about Teena’s mum and instantly felt guilty. I slowed down and forced myself to breathe normally. I remembered what Teena said the first day I met her. That dead people couldn’t hurt you and it was the living you had to watch. More than ever, I was beginning to think she was right.

  Friday afternoon. Mr Gordon was putting us through our paces. Dressed from top to toe in black lycra and carrying a whistle and a clipboard, neither of which he was afraid to use, Mr Gordon studied us, his eyebrows furrowed so close together they looked like caterpillars kissing.

  Peep! Peep! his whistle blew. ‘Okay, people, listen carefully. I want a proper warm up from everyone, the way I showed you last week. Then do six laps of the oval and report back to me.’

  Teena crossed her eyes and poked her tongue out. I broke up laughing.

  ‘Anything worth sharing, Ebony?’ Mr Gordon did his best drill sergeant impersonation.

  ‘No, thanks.’ I gnawed my lip.

  ‘Right, then get to it.’

  ‘Does he have to take himself so seriously?’ Teena whispered while we did our stretches. ‘He’ll give himself a heart attack.’

  ‘Shush.’ I glanced around. ‘You’ve seen the size of his ears. He’ll hear you.’

  ‘I’m surprised he can hear anything with all that hair in them. Has he got hamsters shoved in there or what?’

 

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