Here Lies Love

by Dan Thompson

  “Bless you.”

  Abbey strained her neck to see Tristan ambling back. She smiled at his melodramatic and theatrical walk back towards her. “I’m struggling to get going today,” he sighed. “What you got there?”

  Abbey looked down, flipping the book over and judged the cover. The picture on the front was confusing, with strange coloured shapes inside a mass of blue; vast and overwhelming. She didn’t even attempt to read the title out. The only letter she recognised for certain was the ‘A’. She shrugged and passed it over to him.

  “Can I ask you something?” Abbey asked nervously.

  “Sure,” Tristan replied.

  Abbey noticed his eyes sparkle as he waited to hear her question. It was a hypnotic gaze; a light from the heaven, much more romantic and real than the blue haze. She coughed, contemplating her words carefully. She didn’t want him thinking that she was stupid.

  “Where did you learn to read so fluently? I – I have to admit, I’m only a novice.”

  “Hey, that’s OK. No shame in admitting the truth.”

  Abbey looked down at the floor, staring through the wooden beams with insecurity and self-doubt hammering inside her head. It was easy for him to say, he could read. It was hard not to be ashamed, especially as she desperately wanted to show him that she was capable of doing something other than running away and getting herself into trouble. Tristan leaned across and tilted her chin back up to his level, into the pathway of his powerful magnetic regard. It was a gaze that didn’t scrutinise.

  “Don’t do that. I mean it. Just because I can read better than you doesn’t mean I’m a better person. I bet there are a ton of things you can do so superior to me. I taught myself to read. Me and Ryan have been here for a long time and the thing with schools are, they are full of books.”

  “It makes me feel thick that I can’t read,” Abbey said abruptly, shaking her head from side to side and nudging his hand away from her chin.

  “I bet I’m part of the minority. Imagine the number of people who can’t read against the number who can. I’m the odd one out here, not you.”

  “That still doesn’t change the fact that it makes me feel dim.”

  “Abbey, how can you be stupid? You saved Ryan’s life! You know how to get things done. So, you can’t read words. Big deal! It’s not like you need to read to get by in this bloody depressing world, is it?” Tristan held out his arms, staring sternly at her. Why was he so angry at her?

  “Have I offended you?”

  “No,” Tristan tutted. He lunged over the blankets and put his arm around Abbey’s shoulders. “It’s just that I obviously see a different woman in front of me to the one you see in the mirror. Why do you put yourself down? You’re worth something, Abbey. Believe me, I’m good at reading people. I have to be able to peruse the marketplace every time I’m there. I know a bad pup when I see one, and you aren’t a bad pup.”

  “You don’t know some of the things I’ve done,” Abbey keened, “things I’ve been forced to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. What have I turned into? One minute I was a girl living with my dad, and then the next I’m suddenly forced to become a woman. I’m not ready. I don’t know what to do. Not only am I lost here, I’m lost on the inside too. What am I supposed to do?”

  Tristan rested his head on top of Abbey’s and sighed. “You’re at a crossroads, Abbey. We all wind up there at some part in our lives. Others sooner. I’ve been there myself and it’s a scary prospect. It’s called growing up, becoming a survivor in a harsh environment. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve had to do to get by, but that’s life. We must do what we must.”

  “But I nearly stole an apple from an old man. I was so famished, my stomach was in cramps. His face of disgust when he caught me horrified me. I was becoming a thief.” Tears began to fall onto her cheeks and her nose grumbled as she inhaled.

  “You soppy thing,” Tristan giggled, wiping away her tears. “Life is unforgiving and callous at the best of times, you need to learn how to forgive yourself of any misdemeanours. No one else is going to do it for you. Hold your head up high, Abbey, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

  For the first time for as long as Abbey could remember, she smiled genuinely. She wanted to cover it up with her hand, but Tristan clasped his hand over hers, tapping it gently. “Hey, come here. We’ll look at the atlas together.”

  Tristan’s sweet smell made Abbey’s nostrils flair, a tangy syrupiness that reminded her of a peach she once had the pleasure of tasting. His arm and presence wasn’t suffocating at all, but reassuring. She didn’t want to tell him she liked it. The mustiness from the atlas as Tristan flicked through the pages was ever present, but the boy’s delicate fragrance was addictive and intoxicating; pleasantly so.

  “See, here’s an overview of the world. We live on an island here,” Tristan said slowly, pointing to small rocky island mass. “The Earth is a pretty big place, huh?”

  “Do other people live on all these other islands?”

  “Well, technically these aren’t islands, but yes I’m sure they do. People will live wherever land is. I’ve even heard rumours from the markets that some people live underground! Whole subterranean communities surviving without fear of the wind.”

  “Is this blue stuff the sea?”

  “Yep, it sure is.”

  “I live by the sea. In a lighthouse. My dad was the keeper, but no boats come by anymore. Apparently when I was younger they did. I guess people on those boats would have come from all these other islands.”

  “That must’ve been cool.”

  “I don’t remember. If people do live all over Earth, do you reckon it’s the same as over here?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, have the blue haze, market trips, the wind?”

  “Probably. Who knows? Although I doubt that things would be much better. The Sun is still absent wherever on earth you travel. Whether it be … here …. or here … or here,” Tristan pointed playfully from land mass to land mass. Abbey giggled at his silliness.

  “You idiot,” she uttered jovially, tapping him on his cheek. His stubble was bristly, but abbey was surprised that it wasn’t in a painful way. Her dad’s was like sandpaper, especially after he’d had a shave and his facial hair was starting to grow back.

  “Me the idiot?” Tristan joshed.

  “Yeah, you,” Abbey sniggered, snorting slightly in merriment.

  “I’ll give you idiot,” Tristan mocked, tipping Abbey over and tickling the sides of her ribs. Abbey writhed and wriggled, squealing with laughter. It didn’t matter how much she forced however, Tristan had her pinned down. Her legs kicked out, tears were rolling down her face and she was guffawing so hard that she suddenly felt a stitch at her side.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” Abbey retorted, “I give in. I give in!”

  Tristan chuckled along with her, darting his hands from her ribs to her legs and underneath her arms, where the tickling became so intense that Abbey was still laughing, yet no sound came from her mouth. Her mouth and cheeks ached, as if she had been smiling all day and her jaw had become locked.

  “Do I win?” Tristan teased.

  “Yes! I said – I said I give up.”

  “I can’t hear you.”

  Tristan’s flirting was becoming too much. How did they reach this point? One’s personal space was precious, yet both of them in the last few hours had crossed the boundaries and into uncharted territory. Abbey’s head was starting to hurt and she was getting too hot. As Tristan kneeled over her, still giggling away to himself, he’d caught her long hair a few times and it pulled at her scalp painfully.

  Squeezing every muscle she knew, Abbey tilted her body so it pressed Tristan upwards. Her jaw shook as she bit down and used every last bit of energy to tip him over. Thankfully, she did it without hurting herself further, but her arm and shoulder still ached with the slightest bit of pressure. Tristan toppled back onto his blankets theatrically as if he was staring in some slapstick p
roduction. He giggled to himself like a child. Now Abbey was free to move again, her head felt lighter and as she watched Tristan, she too found herself chuckling along. Perhaps she had been too rash in getting annoyed? He was only playing after all. She was being too serious, she knew that, but instinctually, her body repelled any force that tried to hold it down, as if it had a memory all of its own. Stefan had done the same and ultimately left a scar on her soul. But that wasn’t harmless flirting.

  For the rest of the day, Abbey looked through more of the books Tristan had stored on the shelves from his own scavenger hunts around the abandoned school. There were plenty that didn’t contain any pictures at all. For the first few, she made an attempt at trying to read the first page, but her brain couldn’t comprehend any of the information within; she just didn’t possess the skill. Plus, it made her head hurt. For the ones that did have pictures, Abbey managed to further her knowledge somewhat of animals. There were many that looked angry or aggressive, as well as some that appeared strange, alien even, as if they were from another planet, a world up in skies beyond the reaches of the blue haze.

  Abbey thought it was fair to say that the animals were from a different planet. Earth was no longer the green, lush, fertilised world it had once been, Tristan had taught her that. These animals were from a different time; a lost world that Abbey would never get the chance of discovering.

  She had explored some of the lower rooms in the school too, but didn’t come across anything noteworthy. Legless tables, rotten wood, rubble – all artefacts from a place that had been lost to the vaults of history long ago. For some strange reason, she always found herself back staring up at the statue in the hallway entrance of the school; the bearded man, she’d come to know him as. She had no idea who it was supposed to be, another relic to add to the time capsule she was beginning to unearth. Everything was so grey and dull and faded. It was beginning to give her a headache. Cobwebs had covered the dangling light appliances, but it wasn’t as if they could work again.

  Her gran had once talked to her about electricity; a blue current that was highly dangerous to humans, but could be used to power machines, as well as give lighting inside buildings. Her father’s lighthouse had once used this hidden power to shine into the darkness and guide boats ashore, but Abbey assumed at some point, way before she was born, electricity must have turned its back on mankind too. Maybe her ancestors took its sacredness for granted and it wriggled off in search of a better home?

  Tristan had wanted to accompany her on her exploration, but the tension of sharing a room with the two boys had become somewhat claustrophobic. She needed to be free to wander the derelict halls and investigate things for herself. There was only so much she could learn from books. Reconnoitring and investigating was an undertaking her brain could cope with. It was annoying how her mood flipped; one minute not wanting to be alone, scared of the unknown, and the next trying to avoid any company. Abbey didn’t know who she was anymore. The evolution from dependant to sole living should have been more fluent, but Abbey had had it forced onto her by her father. Now here she was, lost somewhere between childhood and maturity and not knowing which path to take.

  Since she had rejected Tristan’s company, he had warned her to be on the lookout for strays; people that had forced their way into the school for shelter. In both Tristan and Ryan’s experience, some strays could be violent and unpredictable. Abbey shrugged the warning off. She was becoming more adjusted to this dog-eat-dog world.

  Had she been a ‘stray’ then, she thought. I guess I must have. She didn’t like the label, the nomenclature almost derogatory, but smiling to herself, Abbey knew Tristan’s charm would serve him right and get them out of any difficult situation. She imagined that in the bustle and hustle of the market scene, he could talk his way to any deal he may need. His suave allure and debonair conviction were attributes she was envious of. They’d laugh her out of there if she turned up trying to imitate him.

  The more and more Abbey allowed her mind to roam, she realised every shadow in the blue haze made her wary. The dripping of any water also sent shivers down her back in a way that was plain to see. She was becoming jumpy and twitchy. She hadn’t learned anything new by venturing this far away from their living space, maybe it was time to turn back? A clattering echo in the distance clarified the indecisiveness and so Abbey turned and fled, sprinting as fast as she could through the dusty corridors, by the old statue until she was finally back in the dark veranda. She made herself flinch as she walked forward, but looking behind her until she almost tumbled into the hole in the ground that served as the boundary into their ‘home’.

  “Damn,” she cursed.

  “Abbey?”

  “Tristan, is that you?” Abbey laboured to see through the fog of darkness, only just managing to make his outline. “What are you doing?”

  “I was getting worried. You’ve been gone for some time,” he admitted reluctantly.

  The board was already placed over the gaping hole, which gave Abbey some relief. She was feeling to a certain degree, exhausted after her exploring, she wasn’t in the mood for lugging the heavy plank into place. Initially she groaned at Tristan’s stalker-like behaviour, but the more she thought about it, the more sweet the gesture seemed. Only a few days earlier had she crossed the threshold into Tristan and Ryan’s domain, which itself resulted in an accidental embrace. How things had progressed.

  “Are you OK?” Tristan asked, stepping closer to the hole.

  “I’m fine, stop worrying,” Abbey said casually, crossing the plank with relative ease, “but you can pull the wood back.” She tapped his arm as she passed him.

  “Hold up,” he shouted after her, “I’ve got something to show you.”

  Abbey turned around and saw the wide cheesy grin plastered on his face. “What are you planning?”

  “I’ll show you,” he teased, running off down the corridor with extreme alacrity. Abbey shook her head playfully before giving chase.

  Tristan bounded off, skipping around the cooking pot, stroking the plants as headed past straight for the yard. His hair glistened in the blue haze and he had a spring in his step. He was definitely excited about something. As Abbey sprinted to keep up, she noticed that Ryan was awake and up. She slowed down and raised her hand into a wave, mouthing “are you OK?” He raised his own hand in response, nodding his head, but his eyes looked sore, puffy and his colour wasn’t healthy. It was as if someone had tried rubbing him out.

  “Come on, slow coach,” Tristan called, sticking his head around the yard door. Abbey rolled her eyes in Ryan’s direction, which at least made him smile.

  The night gave the yard a sinister, frosty character; the whiteness of their breath a ghost rising up into the sky searching for any warmth it could muster. It was astonishing how the temperature could change so rapidly within such a short space of time. Abbey hoped the walls surrounding the yard would offer enough shelter from any abrupt gust of wind threatening to create a ruse – she’d had more run-ins with the incarnate force to last her a lifetime, she didn’t want any more.

  “What’s going on?” Abbey asked, wrapping her arms around her. The white jumper was soft, and as she paced over to Tristan, she took a moment to remember the girl who the jumper belonged to. She was resting now, at least her torment was over. Abbey hoped she wouldn’t mind her wearing the jumper. In a corny and trite way, Abbey thought that a little of whoever the young lass was, would live on if she kept on wearing it.

  “Come and look at this,” Tristan beckoned, that same grin still glowing out of him.

  Abbey marched nonchalantly over to where Tristan was gleaming. The look on her face probably gave her disappointment away, but she couldn’t help it. A largish black bin sat in the corner running directly perpendicular to the doors. Its lid looked firm, but overall underwhelming. Abbey didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking at, but she had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from saying something sarcastic. Despite it looking nothing ou
t of the ordinary, Abbey eyed Tristan’s giddiness with caution.

  “It’s a bin.”

  Tristan tutted. “Yeah, but it’s so much more than that. Look.” He tugged at the lid, easing it up with care. “Take a gander at that.”

  Abbey peered inside. The blue haze gave little favour to actually see its contents with ease, but if she were to guess, it looked like there were potatoes floating in water. Is this it? It did have a strange smell though. As she bent over the bin, Abbey had to tuck her hair behind her so as to not let it dip into the liquid. It was a peculiar smell, mouldy, yet bitter. It was strong and the more she sniffed, the more it warmed the back of her throat.

  “Isn’t it great? Ryan will love this,” Tristan said, clapping his hands in excitement.

  “Erm, what is it?”

  “What is it,” he derided, “it’s a special brew, can’t you tell?”

  Abbey observed him with curiosity. Was he having her on? “What do you mean ‘special brew’?”

  “You’ll see. It’ll cheer everyone up, trust me.”

  Tristan returned the lid and made to go back towards the doors. “Shhh,” he joked, “don’t tell Ryan. It’s a surprise.”

  Abbey shrugged. She wasn’t convinced. Special brew. What the hell’s he going on about? She’d keep his secret, not that it was much of a secret at all, she thought. Maybe it was a private thing between the two lads.

  “Ryan will probably want to talk to you,” Tristan whispered in her ear as they shut the yard doors behind them. Abbey looked over at Ryan and true enough, he ushered her over. She took a deep breath and headed over to him, staring at her feet, desperately trying to think of how to change the subject of what conversation she knew was coming. As she neared his bed, he really did look ashen. She’d have to watch over him for a bit, check to make sure he was improving somewhat each day. She wasn’t sure what Tristan’s surprise was exactly, but maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea for Ryan to receive the ‘special brew’ tonight.