by Karen Wyld
Cheeks flushed from helping Omer round up the goats, Maggie and Victoria ran over to join Bethel on the bench under the olive tree.
‘Is that the pottery jar you broke yesterday?’ asked Maggie.
Bethel nodded. ‘It made quite a noise, didn’t it?’
Victoria asked, ‘Why are you filling it with dirt? Shouldn’t you be fixing it with glue?’
Bethel pressed down on the dirt, packing it tighter. ‘Glue won’t fix it. Not this time. This jar has been broken and patched up too many times.’
Victoria said, ‘So what’s the dirt for?’
Bethel made a small indent in the dirt and picked up a seedling. ‘When patching doesn’t work, then a new way of looking at the problem is needed.’
She planted the seedling in the pottery jar. ‘The top part is broken beyond fixing, but the base is still solid. If I water this young seedling, one day it will reward me with flowers. I’ll still remember the jar that once kept flour safe from mice, but I won’t feel sad, as it’s been reborn as a home for flowers.’
SIXTEEN
A few days later, Tori walked with Maggie to the community centre. She was hoping to see Louis there, as she’d still not seen him since before moving out of the basement. When they got to the centre, Maggie excitedly showed her sister the art room. Paint tubs and large pieces of cardboard were scattered on long tables.
‘More people today than other times I’ve been here,’ remarked Maggie.
Tori looked around; it was mostly women in the room, busy painting on the cardboard. Looking out the large windows, Tori saw children playing on the grass.
Maggie went up to a middle-aged woman sitting at a table. ‘What are you doing, Aunty Gloria?’
‘Making signs for the march tomorrow.’
‘What’s a march?’ asked Maggie.
The woman stopped painting and stretched her back. ‘It’s a protest. Big mob of people coming together, to let the government know what we want.’
Maggie asked her, ‘What is everyone wanting?’
‘Our land back, mostly. Tomorrow’s march is in solidarity with desert mob. They want to protect the land around the inland sea, to stop more mining. That Country needs to be left alone, so it can heal.’
Maggie said, ‘The inland sea? That’s were my Aunty Isabelle lives. We stayed near there for a while, when we were younger.’
‘Then it’s your Country too, bub,’ commented Gloria. ‘Grab a piece of cardboard and start writing. You’ll need a sign when you come to the protest tomorrow. What about your sister? She’ll need one too.’
Tori raised an eyebrow. ‘How’d you know we were sisters?’
‘Twin girls are generally sisters.’
Others in the room chuckled, and remarked how alike they were. Maggie got some cardboard and found a place to sit. She was unsure what to write. Tori scowled, thinking they were all laughing at her.
‘Don’t be like that, bub,’ said Gloria. ‘Maggie told me she had a twin sister. Sit. Join in.’
Tori shook her head. ‘I’ve got to be at work soon.’
‘Okay, but come back soon. Don’t be shame. We’re all friendly here. Except for that old girl over there. You watch out for her.’
Everyone started to laugh, even the woman Gloria had pointed out. Tori smiled awkwardly. After saying goodbye to Maggie, she had a quick look around the rest of the centre, hoping to spot Louis. Not seeing him, she went to work.
The day went much too slowly. Marcie had called in sick, so it was just her and Andrés in the gallery. Luckily, he worked in the darkroom for most of the day, leaving Tori to sit behind the gallery counter in peace. Not many people had come in, so Tori flicked through a fashion magazine and tried not to watch the clock. Occasionally she’d catch herself scratching her arm, or unconsciously picking spots on her face. She’d noticed that it was usually during moments when her mind was filling with worry, or sadness. The hole her mother had left behind felt so big that Tori often imagined she was falling in, never to be seen again. Tori had also realised that she could stop the freefalling sensation by scratching. It felt oddly satisfying to free bits of skin. Like exhaling after holding one’s breath for too long. That feeling disappeared whenever she looked in the mirror. Then she felt shame and disgust for the self-disfigured person she saw reflected back. The redness on the side of Tori’s face also reminded her that she was motherless. The scarring was not as intense as Brigid’s had been, but there was an obvious similarity. She knew Maggie had noticed this shape she’d unconsciously made on her face. Tori didn’t want her sister’s pity, and she didn’t want to carry around this visual reminder of loss and grief on her face. The problem was – she didn’t know how to stop herself.
Tori looked up when she heard someone walk in. Seeing who it was, she draped her hair over one side of her face to cover the redness.
‘Hey, stranger,’ said Louis. ‘I hear you were looking for me earlier.’
‘Was just wondering where’d you been. Why don’t you visit any more? Scared of heights?’
Louis laughed. ‘No, I actually like trees. I’ve been to your place a few times. You’re just never there.’
‘That’s because I’m usually here.’
‘How’s it going?’
Tori stood up, and walked around the counter. ‘It’s just work.’
‘I’ve been working too. Got a job at a supermarket, filling shelves at night.’
‘Cool.’
‘I can ask if they have any more openings.’
‘What the hell are you doing?’
Both Louis and Tori turned around in surprise. Andrés stood at the other end of the gallery. He strode towards them, glaring at Louis. Tori fidgeted with her hair, while Louis stood up straighter.
Andrés said, ‘You’re not allowed to bother my girl while she works.’
‘I was just asking when she’s finished. We’ve got plans for the evening.’
Tori glanced at Louis, wondering why he was making things up.
‘Next time wait outside,’ ordered Andrés, before turning his attention to Tori. ‘You can lock up, I’ve got an appointment.’
Andrés walked out. They heard his cane tapping on the sidewalk, fading away.
‘Who does he think he is?’ asked Louis. ‘Stuck up bastard.’
‘Shhh. He might come back and hear you.’
‘I don’t care if he does. Come on, let’s get out of here.’
Tori closed the till before taking the money to Andrés’s office. She put it in the bottom drawer of his desk. When Andrés wasn’t around to open the safe, that’s where Marcie and Tori had been told to leave the daily takings. Tori had tried to look in the safe once, peering over Andrés’s shoulder. All she saw were large yellow envelopes and a small metal tin. Like a cigar box. She’d seen tins like that at von Wolff ’s. Standing in Andrés’s office, it was almost as if she could smell von Wolff ’s studio. That stench of burnt cigar ends on the mornings after his friends had been around for their weekly card nights. That sickly stale odour had made unpleasant moments in front of von Wolff ’s lenses even more disturbing. Leaving Andrés’s office, Tori shivered at the memory of von Wolff. And, not for the first time, chastised herself for taking a job in another photography studio, under the watchful eye of another disturbing man. Money didn’t make it less disagreeable.
Tori turned off the main switches by the office door, plunging the gallery in darkness. She could make out the shape of Louis standing near the front entrance.
They walked out, and she shut the tall double door, turning a key in the lock.
Louis asked, ‘He gives you a key?’
‘Not because he trusts me. Andrés is lazy. This way, he can sleep in while someone else opens up the gallery. Marcie and I take turns doing the morning shift.’
‘You work too hard. How about I take you out tonight? A friend of mine is in a band, and he’s got a gig in a pub. It’s not far from the park.’
‘I don’t know. I need t
o open the gallery tomorrow.’
‘It’s Sunday tomorrow and the gallery opens later. Come on, it’ll be fun.
Tori heard a sound and, glancing towards a bush, saw the little black-and-white bird again. Not frantically hopping around this time, just chirping. Louis and Tori walked towards the park.
She replied to Louis: ‘You’d have more fun without me. I’ll probably just get tired early and want to go home.’
‘Then I’d leave early too. I just want to hang out with you, Tori. We used to do things together.’
‘Okay. I’ll ask Maggie if she wants to come too.’
‘Sure. How about I come to your place in about an hour?’
Tori nodded, and they said goodbye. She continued through the park, towards the treehouse, while Louis turned to the left, towards the duck pond. Not for the first time, she wondered where he lived. Tori decided to ask him tonight.
Tori put on the lime-green dress. It was the first time she’d felt daring enough to wear it in public. When Louis arrived, Maggie threw down the rope for him, and talked to him while Tori put her shoes on.
She looked over at Maggie. ‘Are you sure you won’t come with us?’
‘I want to finish this sketch I’ve been working on. There’s an exhibition I’m thinking of entering.’
Louis commented, ‘That’s so cool, sis.’
Maggie grinned. ‘Hope I’m ready.’
‘Of course you are. Your work is deadly,’ said Louis.
‘Shame job,’ she said with a grin. ‘Now, you two get going and leave me in peace.’
Tori and Louis climbed down the ladder. As they descended, Tori reflected on how Maggie’s style of speaking was changing, and thought maybe it was because she was at the community centre most days. Tori tried to remember if Louis had ever called her sis. She didn’t think he had, and it hurt a bit to think he now preferred Maggie’s company. The bird was waiting at the bottom of the tree, again. Tori threw it some crusts she had in her pocket. She thought if the bird was going to hang around so much, she might as well be nicer to it.
The sun had set, so it was dark in that part of the park. Tori could see the soft glow of street lights in the distance, and the occasional car headlights. She liked this time of day. The park was usually empty. Except for soft sounds of night birds, a deep quiet would fall over the parklands and pond. Tori was never scared of walking in the dark. Not after all those years of sleeping under the stars, with her mother and sister by her side. Living in the park reminded her of those days.
Louis reached out and took her hand. Tori flinched, and he let go.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I should have asked first.’
‘You surprised me. Also, it’s not something I feel comfortable doing. Does that sound weird?’
‘No, I get it.’
‘What kind of music does your friend’s band play?’
‘Reggae. You heard any before?’
Tori shook her head. ‘I’ve never really been out. And we didn’t have much music growing up. Heard a bit of country and western at my Aunty Isabelle’s. A few people had guitars, and others would join in, singing around the campfire. And there was folky-type music when we stayed with an old couple. The man, Omer, would play a string instrument that looked like a tiny guitar-box. I think my mum loved jazz and blues. She’d sometimes put records on while working, to try and cheer up Iris, the woman she looked after.’
‘I reckon this is the first time you’ve ever told me anything about your family, or where you were before the city.’
‘Well, you’ve never told me anything about yours.’
‘I’ve got reasons.’
‘Same,’ said Tori, as they crossed the road.
The pub was already crowded when they arrived. People were spilling out into the street, smoking something that had an unusual smell. Tori recalled smelling it on Marcie a few times, when she came back from lunch breaks. Which had surprised Tori, as she didn’t even know Marcie smoked. Louis led Tori through the crowd, gently pushing to make a path for them. They went out a back door, to a fenced garden.
‘A garden in a pub?’ remarked Tori.
‘Yeah, they call it a beer garden. Great place to hang out in warmer weather.’
Over the tops of heads, Tori noticed the band’s instruments in a far corner.
‘They must be on a set break,’ suggested Louis, looking in the same direction. ‘Wait here, I’ll get us some beers.’
‘I’m still underage, remember.’
‘So are lots of people here. No one cares.’
While Louis was gone, Tori took in the crowd. In the sea of denim and cheesecloth, she noticed some women were wearing mini-dresses, which made her felt a bit less awkward about her short hem. She also noted that, unlike other settings she’d been in, there was not the usual abundance of white faces. A man with brown curly hair walked past, and he lifted his chin slightly. Tori smiled awkwardly. She’d seen people do that to her before, in the streets, but was unsure of the right response. Is it okay for me to give an upward-nod back? she wondered. Is it a type of acceptance? Tori made a mental note to ask Louis. He’d know. Maggie might even know. Tori hated asking her sister. She knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but it irked her that Maggie knew more than she did about these types of things.
Tori noticed Louis making his way cautiously towards her, trying not to spill their drinks too much whenever he got bumped in the crowd. He handed her a glass of beer. She sipped hesitantly. It tasted odd. Not at all like the champagne she’d had with Marcie.
‘I’m not supposed to be drinking for a few more weeks.’
‘We should do something fun. Maggie too.’
Tori shrugged. ‘I’m not into birthdays. Maggie is, though. So perhaps we should, for her sake.’
‘How about a day at the beach?’
‘You mean, like, the ocean?’
Louis laughed. ‘Yes. What else would I mean?’
‘I’ve never seen an ocean. Is it far from here?’
‘Never? Then you must. The nearest beach is only a short tram ride away.’
‘I’ve also never been on a tram.’
‘Well, that’s two firsts to celebrate your birthday with. Make sure you get the day off.’
‘I’ll speak with Marcie, see if she’ll do a double shift.’
A murmur rose from the crowd, and Tori noticed some men picking up instruments on the small stage.
‘The band is back,’ remarked Louis. ‘I didn’t introduce you to my friend. Next break I will.’
Tori smiled to acknowledge she’d heard, not wanting to shout over the increasing noise. She looked over at the band. People towards the front of the crowd had started to dance, and others were swaying.
‘Cool music, unna?’ said Louis.
She nodded. Tori didn’t mind it at all, despite the loudness.
She even felt an urge to move, but dancing in public was something she was too scared to try. Louis moved, and was facing her, blocking her view of the band. Over his shoulder, she saw a man with bleached blonde hair, worn in short dreadlocks, pushing through the crowd towards them. He stood behind Louis. Tori saw Louis grimace before he turned around. The white man in dreads gave him a nod.
‘Is this your missus?’ he then asked.
Tori blushed in annoyance, and looked away.
‘Barry, this is my friend Tori. Tori, Barry.’
Tori said, ‘Hi.’
‘Call me Bar Jah. All my friends do. If you’re not his woman, how about a dance with me?’
Tori shook her head. ‘I don’t dance.’
‘Come on, sugar,’ he cajoled, reaching for her hand.
She backed away, obviously uncomfortable. Barry took a step towards her.
Louis said, ‘She said no.’
‘Keep out of it, kid. She doesn’t really mean no. They never do. It’s just a game they play.’
Louis clenched his fists. ‘Barry, stop it.’
‘It’s Bar Jah, mate.’
> Louis laughed as Barry stared threateningly at him. Tori moved closer to Louis, leaning her shoulder into his.
Barry noticed the closeness of their bodies. ‘Thought she wasn’t yours.’
‘I’m not an object to be owned,’ Tori asserted. And I’m absolutely not interested in dancing or anything else with you, mate.’
Barry muttered ‘bitch’, and Tori felt Louis tense. A shout was heard from a far corner. A rowdy group of young men were beckoning Barry over. As he walked away, Tori exhaled.
‘I could have handled that myself,’ said Louis.
‘And I can look after myself. Thanks anyway.’
‘I was so close to losing my temper. Barry is such an arse. Why are white guys with dreads always like that?’
‘I’ve never met someone like him before,’ remarked Tori.
‘He annoys me so much. Such a pretender. I’m sorry he was so disrespectful to you, Tori.’
‘What are you apologising for? He’s the one in the wrong. Let’s forget about him and listen to the music.’
Standing by her side, he could feel warmth filling the short gap between them. He thought about the way she’d just stood so close to him, in defiance of Barry, and imagined what it would be like to hold her hand. He took a sip of his beer, remembering that she’d told him earlier she wasn’t comfortable holding hands. He suddenly felt ashamed, telling himself he was no better than Barry for even having such thoughts.
Tori turned and smiled at him. ‘I really like this music. Thanks for asking me out.’
Louis’s reply was interrupted by someone calling Tori’s name. She turned around and saw Marcie walking towards her.