Troy’s Possibilities

by Rodney Strong

  ‘What was that about?’ Cat asked me.

  I shrugged. ‘Let’s go find out.’ We followed Emily into the kitchen, where she was doing the dishes, a clear sign she was avoiding something.

  ‘It’s silly,’ she said before we could ask. ‘So can we drop it?’

  ‘We didn’t bring it up,’ I pointed out.

  ‘What’s going on, Emily?’ Cat asked.

  Emily stopped what she was doing and sighed. ‘It really is silly.’

  ‘Then tell us so we can laugh at you,’ I said.

  Cat punched me on the arm. Then she went around the bench and put an arm around Emily. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘You guys aren’t going to let this go, are you?’

  ‘We will if you want us to,’ Cat replied.

  ‘No, we won’t,’ I said. ‘If you don’t want to talk about it, it must be juicy, so spill.’

  ‘If she doesn’t want to talk about it she doesn’t have to,’ Cat told me.

  ‘She’s the one who brought it up in the first place,’ I replied.

  ‘So what? Now she’s changed her mind.’

  ‘But it’s still bothering her or she wouldn’t be washing dishes.’

  ‘She is standing right here,’ Emily interrupted.

  We fell silent while Emily struggled with herself for a moment, then sighed again. ‘Okay, fine, but mock me on this and I will kick you in the balls.’

  ‘Cat doesn’t have balls,’ I pointed out, then wilted under the combined venom from two ladies.

  ‘I just want you guys to be happy.’

  We waited, there had to be more to it than that.

  ‘I guess…it’s silly, but I thought if you two got together then something good would have come from this shitty thing that happened. Then I could have happy memories and not…the ones I have.’ She stared defiantly, waiting for the mocking to start.

  I was stunned.

  ‘Well?’ Emily said.

  Cat gave her a hug, then looked over at me. I walked around the bench, but Emily put her hands up to stop me. ‘If you hug me I’ll cry.’

  I held my own hands up. ‘I was going to slap you on the back of the head.’

  ‘I’ll just cry anyway, and punch you,’ Emily retorted.

  I put my hands behind my back. ‘Then let’s settle for this.’ I pushed through her hands, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’re not silly, Ems.’

  Cat leaned in and kissed the other cheek. ‘Not even a little.’

  Emily started crying. ‘You guys,’ she choked out.

  ‘But that’s a lot of pressure on our relationship,’ I pointed out.

  ‘True,’ Cat agreed. ‘I mean, it’s only our first date and suddenly the future happiness of our friend rests on there being a second one.’

  ‘Mmm. Well, technically the first one isn’t over yet. Although we did kiss, which is usually the end of the date.’

  ‘Not necessarily. I’ve had dates where the kiss is just the start,’ she mused.

  ‘Really? Do I want to know about them?’

  ‘Do you?’

  Emily had been turning her head back and forth like she was watching a tennis match. Now she stopped. ‘Wait a second – you guys have kissed already?’

  We ignored her.

  I protested to Cat, ‘And here I thought I was special.’

  ‘You don’t think it was special?’ she asked.

  ‘It felt special,’ I admitted.

  ‘For me too.’

  ‘Seriously wait – you guys have kissed already?’ Emily tried again.

  ‘Sure,’ Cat told her before turning back to me. ‘Then why are you getting so upset about stuff from the past?’

  ‘I’m not upset,’ I said defensively. ‘I simply don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about previous relationships while you’re on a date.’

  ‘When did this happen?’ Emily interrupted.

  ‘In a shop doorway,’ I informed her.

  ‘You seem upset, which is strange, because I assume you’ve kissed other girls and I’m not getting all up in arms about it.’

  ‘I wasn’t upset until I learned the future happiness of my best friend rests on the next kiss.’

  ‘There won’t be a next kiss if you keep this up.’

  ‘Oh, my God – stop, please. I never should have said anything.’

  ‘But it was a great kiss,’ I said.

  ‘Magical,’ she agreed.

  ‘Electric, even.’

  ‘Guys, please,’ Emily pleaded.

  ‘Should we let her off?’ Cat asked me.

  ‘I think she gets the point,’ I agreed.

  Emily looked at us in amazement. ‘You mean this was for my benefit?’

  ‘Not all of it,’ I admitted.

  ‘We actually did kiss,’ Cat confirmed.

  ‘And it was special,’ I added.

  ‘I hate you both,’ Emily declared and stormed out.

  ‘You know her better than I do. Was that too much?’

  I shook my head. ‘Nah, she’ll be fine.’

  ‘You don’t feel any extra pressure on this?’ She gestured between us.

  I thought about how much pressure I was already piling onto this relationship and shook my head, ‘Nah. You?’

  She thought about it for a moment, and I wondered what was going through her mind. Then she shook her head as well. ‘Nah,’ she grinned, ‘but I think we should call it a night. Frankly, anything after this would be anticlimactic.’

  I drove her home, where we kissed once more – another sweet, lingering contact of lips. Then she disappeared behind the solid wooden door of her house.

  Emily was in her room, the closed door a sign she hadn’t yet forgiven me. She’d be fine by the morning. In the bathroom I brushed my teeth – a difficult thing to do when you’re smiling. As I finished up and rinsed my mouth a curious thing happened. On my final glance into the mirror something had changed. I studied my reflection, not sure what it was. It looked the same, but there was definitely something different, something…better. Shrugging it off as post-date euphoria, I turned off the light and went into the hallway, hesitating outside Emily’s door. I felt bad for teasing her. It wasn’t something we’d planned – it’d been natural, organic, and thrilling. The connection and the way we’d naturally bantered was a great sign.

  I knocked on the door. ‘Ems?’

  There was no response. I placed my hand flat on her door, wanting to push it open, to rush in and say sorry to my best friend for being a dickhead. But I didn’t. This was an Emily I had seen before, although rarely, and it was better to wait until the morning. ‘I’m sorry, Ems.’

  The rest of the evening was spent watching the newest reality show to hit TV. Not out of interest, but so I could talk about it with Emily later, as a peace sign.

  The next morning was cold, both inside and outside. Emily finally came into the kitchen as I was cleaning up my breakfast dishes. For a second it was like a scene from a Disney movie – ice forming as she walked. I could see my breath, and actually shivered at the look on her face. It would have been easy to become a statute under that gaze; instead I held out a cup of coffee. She looked at it suspiciously, like it was a lump of poison, then begrudgingly took it.

  ‘I really am sorry, Ems.’

  ‘I heard you,’ she replied.

  ‘But I’m going to keep saying it until you forgive me.’

  She cupped her hands around the hot drink, raised it to her lips and blew gently. ‘You’re a wanker sometimes,’ she sighed before taking a sip. The room temperature rose considerably.

  ‘I’ve never denied that. Look, we didn’t mean to make fun of how you were feeling.’

  ‘But you did.’

  ‘And I’m sorry. But, Ems, I’m worried about you.’

  ‘Why? Because I’m pissed off at you? It’ll pass.’

  ‘I know it will, and that’s not the problem.’ She looked at me and I chose my next words carefully, wanting to find out the truth
but unwilling to reignite the cold war. ‘I want this thing with Cat to work, and I think it’s great you do too, but it seems important to you – too important – which makes me wonder what else is going on.’

  She took another sip of coffee. ‘Who said anything else is going on?’

  ‘Me. As you keep pointing out, we’ve known each other for a long time. I know when something is wrong, Ems.’

  She took one more sip, then put the cup down on the counter. ‘The only thing wrong is I’m going to be late for work. Thanks for the coffee, Troy.’ She grabbed her handbag off the back of a dining chair and walked out of the kitchen.

  ‘This isn’t over,’ I called after her.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she called back, the slam of the front door her final word.

  I brooded over the problem all the way to work, interrupted only by a five-minute period of euphoria as Cat and I texted, both expressing our enjoyment over the unqualified success of our first date. We promised to talk that night – in her words, to initiate negotiations for a follow-up date.

  Slipping the phone back into my jacket pocket, I looked out the bus window and turned my thoughts back to Emily. After the attack I’d been worried about her – whether she would bounce back, recover to become who she was, or be changed forever. She had seemed to be back to her normal self. Occasionally I would catch her staring at nothing, an expression of pure sadness on her face, but then she would shake it off and be Emily again.

  Now it seemed she wasn’t as good as I’d thought, which worried me.

  The one with Emily

  After lunch Emily texted, just two words: ‘I’m sorry.’ I took it at face value, and replied, ‘Me too, see you tonight.’ She didn’t respond but that wasn’t unusual.

  Work occupied my thoughts for the rest of the day. A major presentation was due at the end of the week, so it was seven o’clock by the time I got home. The lights were on, but when I called out there was no response. Checking the kitchen, I found her bag on the bench but there was no sign of Emily.

  ‘Ems?’ I called again.

  Her bedroom door was closed. I knocked on it; no response. Knocked harder; still no response. Turned the knob and pushed it open.

  Her room was dark. I flicked the light on, and saw it was empty. The clothes she’d worn to work that morning were laid carefully on her bed, shoes together beneath the outfit. There was nothing unusual about the scene but a chill swept through me.

  Re-entering the hallway, I noticed the bathroom door was also closed. Knocked on it. No response. Tried the door. Locked.

  ‘Ems!’ I called, banging loudly on the door.

  No response. My heart thumped in my chest and ears.

  ‘Emily, open the door.’

  No response.

  Taking a step back, I kicked the door. In the movies this would have resulted in the door exploding inwards, in reality it did nothing but hurt my foot. I kicked again, and again, and on the fourth try the door burst open. I stumbled forward and sprawled onto the ground, scrambled to my knees, and saw Emily in the bath. She was naked, and judging by the skin on her hands she’d been in there for a while. She was leaning back in the water, face barely above the surface, her eyes unseeing.

  Frantically I searched for signs of injury, then signs of life. There was no blood, no empty pill bottles. I ripped the plug out, then grabbed her shoulders and shook her with a gentleness contrary to the turmoil I felt inside.

  ‘Ems.’

  Nothing.

  ‘Ems!’

  Still nothing.

  ‘Emily Rose Tostra, look at me.’

  There was a small flicker in her eyes, then nothing.

  ‘Emily, please,’ I pleaded.

  The water gurgled down the plughole. I grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her as much as I could, hands slipping on her wet skin. She felt cold.

  ‘Emily!’ I slapped her lightly on the face. Nothing. ‘Come on, mate, don’t do this. Come on, Ems.’

  My phone rang. I ignored it, then realised I needed help, yanked it out of my pocket and pressed the answer button.

  ‘Hey, I thought we could discuss details for date number two,’ Cat said.

  ‘Call an ambulance Cat. For our place.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s Emily. Just call.’

  ‘Done,’ she replied without further questions.

  I dropped my phone, heard the clatter on the floor. Now that help was on the way, two things went through my mind – one, I needed to warm her up, and two, she would be mortified if the ambulance people found her naked. Leaving her was difficult, but lifting her wet, limp body out of the bath by myself wasn’t an option. I grabbed a pair of tracksuit pants and a T-shirt from her room. Absurdly I rejected the first T-shirt I pulled out because the colour clashed with the pants. That was Emily working through me. By the time I wrestled the clothes onto her there was a banging on the front door – the ambulance had arrived.

  The next few minutes were a blur of questions and calm, efficient people working on Emily. They threw jargon around, which stirred memories of my Possibility life as a paramedic, but I wasn’t paying close attention because at that point Cat arrived, a look of horror on her face as she saw Emily being wheeled into the ambulance. One of the paramedics, a solidly built man in his late thirties, asked if I wanted to go to the hospital with them. I nodded and Cat said she would follow in the car, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze before I climbed into the back of the ambulance. As we pulled out into traffic the paramedics continued to work on Emily, checking her vital signs, relaying information to the driver. I absorbed as much of it as I could, at one point hearing the words catalepsy and depression. I racked my brain for knowledge but my fear for Emily made it difficult to focus. I knew they weren’t good words though. I felt nauseous, silently pleading to Emily to come back, thinking I should have seen this, should have known something was wrong, should have been there for my best friend, should have…

  I blinked…

  The one with the flatmate

  And was sitting at my desk at work. I still felt nauseous, bolted into the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. My heart pounded, and fresh images of Emily lying in the ambulance, staring at nothing, brought more vomit. Once my stomach settled and I’d rinsed my mouth, I glanced at my watch.

  The ‘I’m sorry’ text from Emily had just arrived but she didn’t answer my call. I checked with her work and they said she’d gone home sick. My boss didn’t take much convincing that I wasn’t feeling well, my episode in the toilet having been overheard by several co-workers.

  Spurning the slowness of a bus, I grabbed the nearest taxi and offered an extra twenty dollars if he got me home as fast as he could. He made a lewd comment about the girlfriend waiting for me and I wanted to punch him in the head, but since we were going sixty kilometres an hour I gritted my teeth and said nothing. Traffic was slow and we seemed to hit every red light along the way, but eventually we pulled up outside the house. I paid the driver, less the extra tip which he grumbled about, but I told him not to be so rude next time, or words to that effect.

  The house was quiet when I burst through the front door. Passing Emily’s room I saw her work clothes laid neatly on the bed. The bathroom door was closed. I didn’t stop to test the lock, instead launched a kick and smashed the door open. Emily stood naked in front of the mirror, a pair of scissors in her hand.

  ‘Troy! What the fuck?’

  I turned away, face flushed. ‘Ems, shit, sorry.’

  ‘Get out!’ she ordered.

  I retreated to the kitchen, and a few minutes later she followed, dressing gown tightly wrapped around her, and demanded, ‘What the hell was that?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ems, I thought…that you might be in trouble.’

  ‘So you thought you’d give me a heart attack. Jesus, Troy.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ems,’ I repeated, feeling foolish.

  ‘Why did you think I was in trouble?’ she demanded.


  I picked up an apple and began cutting it into pieces to avoid looking at her. ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t get hold of you, and you haven’t been yourself lately, so I…panicked.’

  ‘You think?’ She poured herself a glass of water, her hands shaking slightly, and I suddenly wondered if I hadn’t been far off the mark after all.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

  ‘When my heart stops racing, sure.’

  We sat in uncomfortable silence.

  At last she said, ‘There has to be more to it than that. It’s not like we’re in constant contact. You wouldn’t have freaked out like that if there wasn’t something else.’

  This was going to be tricky. ‘I got a feeling,’ I said lamely.

  She stared at me incredulously. ‘A feeling? What sort of feeling?’

  ‘Just that something wasn’t right. That you were in trouble.’

  Far from looking at me like I was crazy, Emily seemed shocked, then troubled, then thoughtful. ‘Why would you think that?’

  ‘What were you doing with the scissors, Ems?’

  ‘Why would you think I was going to hurt myself?’

  ‘Why were you in the bathroom with a pair of scissors?’

  ‘You’re not answering my question.’

  ‘And you’re not answering mine.’

  We stared at each other, neither of us willing to give in and speak first. Finally she looked away, wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

  We were on dangerous ground. Through all our years of friendship there had been disagreements, the occasional fight, but mostly about silly stuff, not counting all the Possibilities. Something hung in the air, and one wrong word or gesture could have serious consequences. The silence drew out like a bow string looking for a target.

  The tension broke with the sound of the doorbell. I went and answered it.

  It was Cat. I stared, then asked, ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I had some spare time so I thought I’d check on Emily.’ She pushed past me, and I followed her down the hall and into the kitchen.

  Emily was equally surprised. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I was passing and thought I’d drop in and say hi.’