by Ivana Hruba
Ah, that fucker’s next. And it’s time she knew that.
I open the kitchen drawer. It squeaks and she leaves off snivelling, instantly. She lifts her head off the sofa. She’s watching me pulling the knife out of the drawer. It’s a big knife, the biggest one we have.
‘What are you doing, Sarah?’
She’s scared, stiff. So I was right. This is what it’s going to take.
‘I’m warning you, Lilian. You bring him here and you’re gonna regret it.’
I’m turning the knife from side to side in front of her. In a silly fashion, I must say. It’s kinda funny; her huddling on the sofa with a fist in her mouth and me parading a knife right there, in her tearstained dial. As if— But she doesn’t know that. It’s for the best that she imagines I would. And Chris will understand. Eventually, when he gets over his anger of me scaring her. He’ll know that she deserved it. Asked for it, didn’t she?
Course, she did.
She imagined she had a choice to make. But there’s no moving on from the consequences of your actions. You do something wrong and you will pay for it. Karma will always catch up with you. So we’re all stuck in this. For however long it takes. There will be no respite. No Bruce, no new life. No walking away from this, for you, Lilian, however much you’re sorry now. Get it?
Looking at her, I don’t think she does. She’s a babe in the woods, after all. It’s not fair to blame only her. All she ever wanted is to be happy. She just went about it the wrong way. And Karma caught up with her.
Chris got it, I believe. That is why he left. He understood that there’s always a price to pay. For the mistakes you’ve made, for the decisions the consequences of you’ve learned to live with. He understood that and I’m quite sure he’s figured out that I understand it too. So that just leaves Lilian. But I’m too tired now to go on instructing her.
I throw the knife in the sink. It makes a jarring, clanking noise and Lilian jumps, like, two feet in the air.
‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.’
I throw myself at her. She throws her arms around me. We cry. And that’s how fucked up our world has become.
61
We walk in the forest on Christmas day. The weather threatens to turn horrible but we’re out. We’re doing it for ourselves, and Starling. We don’t want her to feel alone, at a time like this. She loved Christmas. She always helped me decorate the tree, even when she was a baby. Last year was especially fun. She ran about with the baubles and she put a whole bunch on the lowest branches and then she had me lift her up and she put the star on top all by herself. And then we sang songs and danced about when the tree was finished.
‘I’m a little snowman, short and stout. My nose is a carrot, my coat is white… Starling-sweetie, are you following Sarah?’
Oh! So it wasn’t Fairy! It wasn’t Emily! It was me. Me and Starling sang this, acted it out, last year when we put up the tree.
Okay. I’m confused. And so disappointed. I really thought Fairy was back. But it was just me, dreaming, wishing. Conjuring what is not there. Ah, well, at least Starling’s here now.
‘I’m a little snowman, short and stout. My nose is a carrot, my coat is white…’
‘What are you singing, Sarah? It is one of Starling’s?’
Lilian stops, turns to look at me. She looks happy.
‘Go on, don’t stop. I remember this. Starling loved doing the actions, didn’t she?’
So we sing the song, do the actions. It’s a good thing. We’re spending time with Starling on Christmas day.
‘Let’s go make snow angels on the beach, Mum.’
Lilian’s looking at me. She’s thinking about it. She knows Starling loved making them. In the garden. On the beach.
But Lilian hasn’t been to the beach since, you know. I’m noticing how cold she is. Her nose is red. Her eyes are glassy. It’s the wind suddenly picking up. Somehow he’s found us though we’re hiding amongst the trees. Obviously, he feels the need to drive the freezing snow into our faces. But Lilian’s holding up alright. She’ll do this if it’s the last thing. So we go make snow angels.
We climb down to the beach, sliding down the dune, just like Starling would have done. We arrive down below, literally wrapped in snow. It’s fun. We’re plonking ourselves down, with our arms and legs spread. We’re doing it properly, dead weight into a fluffy snow pillow. Course, I’m gonna have bruises tomorrow. But what does it matter when I feel so close to her here? —Exactly.
My angel looks fantastic, for a little while. But even down here the wind has picked up, coming in full force now, from the ocean. Soon my angel will be obliterated.
We climb back up. It’s hard work, going the other way. Lilian’s struggling. Every so often, I have to prop her up from behind.
Eventually we reach the top. We pause there for a bit, catching our breaths, safe from the wind in a cluster of bushes where old Drakey used to hide.
‘D-do you — think — Dad’s — ever — coming back?’ Lilian blurts out, when I least expect her to say anything, let alone this.
Course, I’ve thought about it; I’m still thinking about what I think on that score.
‘I don’t know, Mum. I hope so.’
‘Why?’
Now she’s floored me. It seems so unlike her to do this. She’s always skirting the real issues, fence-sitting or just plainly trying to forget what ails her, and me.
‘Because he should be here, with us.’
‘Sarah-honey, I don’t think he wants to be with us anymore.’
She’s looking at me like I should know.
‘You mean you don’t want to be with him anymore.’
She sighs.
‘I feel betrayed. Can you understand that, Sarah-honey? He’s left me. He’s left you. It’s not going to be easy for us when he comes back, you know. But I don’t believe he will.’
She turns away from me, starts up the track. I follow in her footsteps. It’s been a Christmas day to remember.
62
She was telling the truth. It’s not going to be easy for us cause she’s given up. She’s been talking to Bruce. A lot. I’ve looked up her call log and the back and forth between them swings like a pendulum. Evenly, regularly, predictably. Every day. So what am I supposed to do about this? Supposing I want to do something about it. And maybe I will. When the time is right. Today I’m busy. It’s my turn for Phys Ed oral presentation and I’ve come prepared. I’ve got everything; pictures, drawings, googled info printed, all set up on a large poster, which I’ve tacked up on the whiteboard and covered by a blank sheet of paper. And now I’m making a dramatic entrance.
‘Good morning, class.’
Some people smirk. Some smile. But most continue on with their busy lives, discussing them in a collective hum. It’s a beehive in here even as Amy looks up from her paperwork to nod encouragingly in my direction. Yeah, okay; I get it. It’s a lame start and we’re not in little people’s school anymore.
I take the top sheet off my poster. How to Survive in the Woods. The big reveal is followed by silence. You could literally hear a pin drop if a pin were dropped. A few elephants go by then somebody exhales. Maybe they all did, collectively pushed out their spent air in one big whoosh cause a cold wind sweeps through me towards Amy. She shudders. Stares. They all do. And now I’ve got them.
‘Good morning, class. Today you will learn the basics about surviving in the woods if you get lost. The most important thing is not to panic. You will need to pay attention to your surroundings because that’s all you’ve got to help you stay alive. First you have to find food and shelter. Depending on the season, this can be quite easy or very difficult. In summer, you could look for berries in the undergrowth, or birds’ eggs in the trees. You look for nuts, seeds, mushrooms, all that. If a squirrel can eat it, so can you so look for small animals to see where they’re feeding. You can be sure you will find something to eat there. In winter, you would look for a squirrel’s nest wh
ere you would find their stores of nuts and grains. In case you don’t find anything to eat, you will have to conserve energy by finding a warm place to curl up in while you wait for rescue. Somewhere under a tree where it’s dry—’
‘What if there are no trees?’ somebody pipes up, unhelpfully. It’s Fat Boy grinning cleverly, so he thinks.
‘There would be cause you’re surviving in the woods, F.B. Clue’s in the title,’ somebody else pipes up, helpfully. It’s Noodle, from the back row. He’s somebody I don’t ever speak to, but I’m liking the dude’s attitude right now. He’s been paying attention. Or maybe he just wants to have a bit of fun with Fat Boy. I think they’re friends. Whatever; it’s probably best if I answer Fat Boy’s question. Amy’s expecting it; she has stopped doing paperwork. She’s leaning expectantly towards me, anchored solid, with her elbows on the marking sheet.
‘If there are no trees, Mitchell, you can always dig yourself a little hole to curl up in.’
‘Or a big one,’ Noodle jumps in. The class smirks. Fat Boy continues to grin at Noodle who grins back. I’m getting the feeling my show’s getting hijacked.
‘That would take too long. The sun will go down and then what?’ returns Fat Boy.
‘Then that’s your bed, F.B. And you will lie in it.’ Noodle grins, looks around the classroom to gauge how he’s faring with this. Some people bite. They’re looking.
‘But I’ll be cold, N-man. Freeze my ass off.’
‘Let’s be honest, F.B. You’ve got plenty of cover.’ Noodle puffs out his cheeks. He’s got everyone’s attention now and they’re smiling. I’m feeling a little left out, a little like the old days.
‘You cover yourself with grass and leaves, Mitchell.’ There’s no point in fighting this; I might as well work it into my presentation. Who knows, it might even get me a better mark for audience participation and class engagement. They’re all in now, by the look of it, hook line and sinker.
‘What if there are no leaves or grass?’ Fat Boy is blinking at me innocently. He’s really looking for guidance here.
‘Then you use what you’ve got handy.’
‘But I’ve got nothing. I’m in my underpants,’ says Fatty, keeping up the straight face. So what am I supposed to do?
I look at Amy but she’s not reading me. She’s giving me the opportunity to respond.
‘Then you pile the dirt you’ve dug up on top of yourself. It will help keep you warm.’
‘It sounds nasty,’ Fat Boy makes a face intended to shore up some sympathy.
But it looks like the moment has passed. Folks are going back to their lives it looks like. The beehive is beginning to buzz, ever so quietly, but the hum is noticeable. People’s heads are being lowered, conspiratorially, together. Only Noodle is keeping up.
‘Yeah, dude, it does. Sounds like you could bury yourself alive.’
The fool grins at me. Like he’s said something clever.
‘You wouldn’t cover your face, obviously.’ I look at Amy who’s frowning at those clowns, arms crossed under her boobs. I’m assuming she’s crossed them cause you can’t see any of it under there. She’s wearing a bulky sweater over her bulky body. So it’s all a big bulk of a woolly mammoth filling up the space above her desk.
‘Boys, I want you to listen now. Quiet!’ she yells and the class stops humming. They’ve all slumped into a listening position, expecting to be bored. Oh, dear, the fools I have to deal with.
Of course, the rest of my presentation comes up to everyone’s expectation but I get through it all right. I get a round of applause at the end and then school’s over. I get a pass.
63
We’re having dinner, home-made pizza made by me, and we’re watching a movie when Amy calls. I know it’s her even though Lilian doesn’t say. She smiles at me, apologetically, and disappears with the phone to her bedroom, behind her bit of partition. Course, I hear everything.
‘Seems fine, why?’
—
‘She’s not mentioned it, no.’
—
‘I see. Aha.’
—
‘Okay. I will speak to her. Thanks for letting me know.’
—
Lilian hangs up. Five elephants later she comes into the kitchen. Sits down, lights up. She pushes the window open just a touch and sticks her cigarette out. We watch the rest of the movie.
64
Dad! It’s the first day of spring and we still have snow, would you believe? — Yes, there’s snow around the trailer and in the forest, and a little left on the beach. I think. But we haven’t been down there for a while. You know. — I’m okay. — Nothing much. I’m tired most of the time. — She’s busy. She’s working full-time now. — I don’t know. She says she likes it. I wish she were home a bit more. — Well, she has to, doesn’t she? We’ve no money left. — I know. I’m sorry. —
‘Sarah? Sarah, can you hear me?’
I’ve got to go now, Dad. Bye.
‘I can hear you, Miss.’
‘So, what is it?’
How should I know? I’ve not heard a word that stupid woman said. But I see that she’s scribbled something on the blackboard. Oh, I know. We’re doing nutrition and the health of young people this term. It’s probably about that.
‘What was the question again, Miss?’
‘For the third time, Sarah,’ Amy heaves a sigh, looks at the class over the rim of her spectacles. She’s having no impact. The class slumbers, deep in thought, collectively and individually absent from this moment. Amy taps her ruler sharply on the blackboard. Some people look up. It’s enough for us to go on.
‘Why is eating a healthy breakfast important?’
I don’t know. Why is eating a healthy breakfast important? I look at my desk for inspiration. As luck would have it, I find it. The answer is right there in the leaflet left open in front of me.
‘Eating a healthy breakfast is associated with improved cognitive function, memory, reduced absenteeism and improved mood, Miss.’
Amy looks pleased, pleasantly surprised.
‘That’s correct, Sarah. Thank you.’
I really should feel offended. She’s pleased I read a sentence out loud. —Seriously? I have a suspicion that I’m not getting the respect I deserve. Will there ever come a day when? Well, I’ll just have to make sure.
At least she’s gone back to her life. And now I can go back to mine.
I do miss you, Dad. — I’m not sure about Mum. She’s busy, working. All the time. — She doesn’t seem to mind, you know. She’s happy cause she gets to see Bruce. — Yes. Bruce. — He’s a guy. Just a guy who’s around. — I don’t like him. — I don’t want her to see him. But — What do you expect me to do? — Okay, go. I know you’re not really there.
He goes. And I’m done for the day. You can only do some much of this before you’re drained. And I shouldn’t really be doing it. It won’t bring him back. But I’m so alone. He never calls. Nobody does. About him, or Starling. Everything’s just gone on for too long. No leads, no interest. From anyone. Not even the press. It’s depressing. Is this how it’s supposed to be? —Exactly. I’d never have guessed it was gonna be like this when Starling went away. I miss the first days, you know, after. Cause we were busy when we had hope. But now all I do is sit around counting elephants, talking to Chris. I imagine talking to him. It doesn’t help. He doesn’t come. Fairy doesn’t come. Emily’s gone and Starling too. My life really sucks.
65
Something’s up. Lilian is acting funny. Has been all day, looking at me when she thinks I can’t see her. So we might as well have it out.
‘What’s on your mind, Mum?’
We’re washing dishes after dinner. Lilian’s washing and I’m drying. The question startles her. She rests her hands on top of the sink, looks down at the suds sliding off them. Her hands look about a hundred years old.
‘I think we should have a memorial for Starling.’
She looks up at me. ‘It will be good fo
r us.’
‘Why?’
‘I keep thinking she’s coming back, you know.’
‘I keep thinking that too.’
‘It’s not healthy.’
‘I don’t mind. I like thinking about Starling coming home. And Dad.’
‘Sarah-honey. I wish you wouldn’t. They’re not coming home.’
‘Dad might be.’
‘We don’t know that.’
She keeps on looking at me, pleading silently. It’s like she’s a question mark hanging in thin air. Pleeeeeeease?
I can’t help her. I don’t think this is a good idea. But she’s not reading me.
‘Sarah-honey. I need to say goodbye.’
She wants closure, the silly girl. Like that’s gonna happen. But I guess she needs to find out for herself.
‘Okay, Mum.’
She hugs me. In the darkened window behind her I see the two of us, reflecting the moment we’re in. We look funny, stuck together, with her arms around me and her hands fanned out behind my back so that the suds don’t drip on me. Seriously, if Starling were here… Ah well, it is what it is. I wish Lilian could see it. But she won’t. She’s weak and stubborn at the same time. But she’s not fooling anybody. There’s a reason she wants to say goodbye. She wants to start over.
66
So many elephants later and we’re here, at the Heavenly Gates. Is there really such a thing? Apparently so cause the whole town’s here. They’re filing through them, with their flowers and teddy bears, and their serious anxious faces.
One good thing in all this. There isn’t going to be a priest. Lilian absolutely insisted on it. For those who wish to pray there was a service earlier. I don’t know if any of these people assembled here went; we didn’t. I’ve never believed and Lilian lost all faith a while back cause she prayed really hard when Starling went away and… well, obviously. Here we are, about to eulogize her brief, glorious existence on Earth. Of course, that’s how Lilian sees it. Amy too cause it was her idea, this memorial. She suggested it. A couple of days after I had my talk at school. How to Survive in the Woods must have really freaked her out. But it took Lilian a while to come around. Still, she did and here we are.