Graffiti Heaven

by Marita A. Hansen

  “Nah, Ash’s grandfather’s always blaming the government for everything. I used to purposely rile him up about it. It amused me greatly considering I know nuthin’ ‘bout politics.” Jenna smiled. “All I needed to say was, ‘Isn’t the government doin’ wonderful things for the country?’ and he’d go off his head, trying to convert me to the National Party. It made no difference that I couldn’t vote. He could never tell when I was lying. I like Mr. Talich.”

  Tiana wondered why Jenna knew Mr. Talich so well. Although Ash often talked about his grandfather, she hadn’t met the man prior to Sunday.

  The bell rang. Tiana picked up her books, stuffed them into her bag, then followed Jenna into their homeroom. In the far corner, Lavinia was talking with Joel. Surprised, Tiana stood for a moment, then frowned as Jenna slipped into Lavinia’s seat. “That’s not your desk.”

  Jenna dumped her bag on the floor. “What’s the issue? I thought things were cool between us now.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that.”

  Grumbling under her breath, Tiana plonked herself down.

  “That’s better,” Jenna said. “And anyway, we have something in common: we both love Ash. Well, I think you do, though, it’s kinda weird that you don’t sit with him much.”

  “Ash likes sitting with his friends.”

  Jenna smirked. “That sucks, he always sat with me. Guess he’s not that into you.”

  “Yes, he is! We’re in love.”

  “We’re in love,” Jenna mimicked. “I betcha think he’s your Romeo?”

  Tiana felt her cheeks flush.

  Jenna sniggered. “You’re so easy to read, unlike those shitty plays you like.”

  “Shakespeare’s real literature unlike the rubbish you pro’bly read.”

  “If ya lower your nose then ya might be able to smell the shit.”

  Tiana went to retort, then moved her head away as Jenna leaned forward.

  “Be careful what ya say this time,” Jenna said, “Cos I don’t take insults well.”

  “You insulted me first,” Tiana said nervously.

  “No, I insulted Shakespeare, not you, so don’t get so bloody worked up. Not my fault you’re overly sensitive.”

  Tiana felt like snapping back, but instead she pulled off her jumper. She knew a smile and a punch were a whisper away when it came to Jenna.

  Jenna resumed talking like nothing had happened. “You wanna visit Ash’s grandma after school? I’m hoping she’ll give us some new info.”

  Tiana stuffed her jumper into her bag. “No, I’d rather go alone.”

  “Doubt you’ll have any luck after you pissed off her hubby.”

  “I didn’t mean to, I couldn’t understand a word he said.”

  “Yeah, his accent’s thicker than Joel, which is pretty thick.”

  Despite herself, Tiana laughed.

  “So,” Jenna said. “You wanna go with me after school?”

  “Sorry, can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “My mum’s picking me up.” Plus, Hunter lives near me, so you won’t know if I visit.

  The classroom door opened. Tiana looked up as Cassidy walked towards them, her jumper barely covering her large stomach.

  Cassidy stopped in front of Jenna. “What the hell happened to your face?”

  Jenna smiled. “What? Don’t cha like my new look?”

  “Who bashed you? I’ll go smack them over.”

  “Nah, it’s cool, I purposely taunted Fafafini Helu.”

  “Are ya crazy? No one purposely provokes She-male. And why ya sitting with her for?” Cassidy jerked her head towards Tiana.

  Jenna placed an arm around Tiana’s shoulders. “T’s a mate now.”

  Tiana shoved Jenna’s arm away.

  “You’re having me on,” Cassidy said.

  Jenna shook her head.

  Cassidy squished up her chubby face. “I’m your mate, not her! Are ya ditching me cos of yesterday?”

  “Nah, just taking a break, I’ll sit with you tomorrow, so chill.”

  “No, sit with me now.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “You’re my mate!”

  “Go sit with her,” Tiana said, praying Jenna would leave.

  Jenna leaned back in her chair. “Nope, I’m staying right here.”

  Cassidy chucked what looked like jewellery at Jenna’s face. “I bought you this, thought I’d apologise for upsetting you, but nuthin’ I do is good enough, is it?”

  Jenna glared back. “Stop acting like a jealous twat, I’m sick of it.”

  “Bitch. I hate you.”

  Tiana watched Cassidy storm past Jenna and sit down near the back. A few seats away, Ant started laughing. “Look, Rug-Muncher’s crying cos Jenna dumped her fat arse.”

  Cassidy jumped up and threw her bag at him. “Shut up, you bastard! You have no right to call me that, no right!”

  Jenna rose with a furious expression, then quickly sat back down as the counsellor entered the classroom wearing a lilac skirt and matching jacket. “Cassidy, take your bag and head to the principal’s office,” Mrs. Yates said.

  “But, Ant called me a rug-muncher.”

  “I have no idea what that means, but can only assume it’s an insult. Still, there’s no excuse for reacting violently, so off you go, and you too, Anthony. This is the second time in two days that I’ve caught you insulting people. You can go explain to the principal what rug-muncher means.”

  Several students sniggered. Ant stood up and threw Cassidy’s bag back, then stormed out of the room. Cassidy followed with a look that promised hell.

  Tiana whispered to Jenna, “Why were ya nasty to her? She’s s’posed to be your friend.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. All I did was sit next to you and she spaces out.” Jenna picked up the piece of jewellery off the floor. “Anyway, she was a right cow to me yesterday, so she’s lucky I didn’t punch her.”

  “What’s a rug-muncher?”

  “A lesbo. And she’s not.”

  Tiana frowned, not understanding how it could mean that.

  Looking puzzled, Jenna stared at the bracelet that Cassidy had thrown at her. “Hearts? Why would she gimme something with hearts on?”

  “That looks expensive.”

  “Yeah, it does. But hearts?”

  “Maybe it’s a friendship bracelet.”

  Jenna turned it over. “Yeah, you’re right. She engraved it with ‘Coolest Friend Ever.’ Man … now I feel like crap. I guess I better make it up to her.”

  The counsellor sat behind the teacher’s desk. “Jenna, please stop talking.”

  Jenna ignored the woman and clipped the bracelet around her wrist, mumbling that it wasn’t half bad even with hearts.

  Tiana looked down at her desk as the counsellor started calling the role. She felt like crying when the woman left out Ash’s name. She knew it was only a few days since she’d last seen him, but it didn’t make her miss him any less. Plus, with each new day she grew more concerned.

  Was he really unharmed? Or was his family lying? And why were they being so secretive?

  30

  Ash

  Friday, September 1.

  For four days Ash had laid in the hospital bed exhausted, unable to do much more than sleep. Like Hunter, the doctor had said the drug had caused it, along with the hot flushes that added to the fever-like symptoms. But even though he’d been really sick the police still visited, and every time he told them the same thing.

  Chaz did nuthin’.

  I drank too much.

  I can’t remember.

  Then he would stare at the door, ignoring their other questions as he willed his mother to appear. He’d imagined her walking in and telling them it had all been a big misunderstanding, and to…

  FUCK OFF!

  By Thursday the police had stopped coming around and by Friday his exhaustion finally lifted enough for him to go home. On the car ride bac
k, he’d remained silent until Hunter had mentioned that he was going to be his guardian.

  Ash glared at Hunter as the car headed down Tiri Road. “I don’t need a guardian.”

  “You need a place to stay and someone to look after you.”

  “I already have a home and my mum will look after me.”

  Hunter exhaled. “Ash, you hafta accept she’s gone.”

  Ash looked out his window as they drove past Claydon High. He didn’t want to accept any of what he’d been told. Instead, he clung onto the hope that his mother would show up, telling him that the past week was a punishment for going to the pub. And that he hadn’t been drugged, but had gotten alcohol poisoning like Kelley O’Brian did a few months back.

  Hunter turned into Pleasant Parade. “Denying things won’t make her come back.”

  “I’m denying nuthin’,” Ash mumbled.

  Hunter pulled into his driveway, parked the car and got out. Ash remained in the front passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the garage with its jammed up windows. Normally, he loved visiting Hunter’s, but today he wanted to go home. Needed to. He wanted to hear the twins fight, smell his stepdad’s cooking, and get told off by his mother for arguing with Dante … Dante was in one of his dreams. Ash screwed up his eyes, trying to block out the memory of his brother’s terrified face. His grandparents had taken Dante and the twins back to Dargaville so they could arrange the “funeral.”

  A knock on his window made him jump.

  “Ash, out.”

  Ash quickly wiped his eyes, then got out, slamming the door shut on purpose. The Chevy was Hunter’s pride and joy, costing a bucket-load to import and modify.

  “Ash!”

  Ignoring his cousin, Ash walked across the lawn and stopped by the front door. Hunter followed, grumbling as he unlocked the house. As soon as the door swung open, Ash pushed past Hunter, heading through the lounge and into the dining-room. He grabbed the phone off the Formica table and dialled home.

  “Who ya calling?” Hunter asked.

  Ash continued to ignore him as the phone clicked over to the message system. His mother’s recorded voice answered, “The Ratas and Greenwoods are out at the moment, so please leave a message after the beep.”

  Ash smiled at the laugh at the end, remembering how he’d pulled faces at her during the recording. “I miss you, Mum. I’m at Hunter’s. Please pick me up, I wanna come home.”

  Hunter touched Ash’s hand.

  Ash jerked away. “Please, Mum, it’s my birthday tomorrow, I wanna see you.”

  “She’s dead, Ash.”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “Not until you accept it.”

  Ash covered his ears.

  “Listen to me.” Hunter grabbed Ash’s wrists. “You’re making things worse.”

  “Don’t touch me!” Ash shouted, trying to yank free.

  Hunter let go. “Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

  “Then take me home.”

  “This is your home now.”

  “No, it’s not!”

  “Ash, please at least try. I’ve even brought your stuff over. Everything’s in the end bedroom.”

  Ash took off down the passage, heading into the room. He stopped in the middle, upset to see his drawings on the walls. His gaze settled on the image of Dante doing the haka. He’d seen the picture in his dreams. He pulled it off the wall and ripped it, then started pulling down the rest.

  Hunter entered the room. “Ash, no!”

  “They don’t belong here.” Ash tore the last one off, then flopped onto the bed, forcing himself not to cry.

  Hunter picked up the pictures and laid them on the wooden cabinet. “Except for Dante’s picture, I can save the rest.”

  “I don’t care.” Ash started mentally counting the fly spots on the ceiling, trying to block out the image of Dante’s face. In his dream his brother had been behind their mother as she attacked Chaz.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  Stop thinking that!

  Hunter sat next to him. “I know you don’t want to, but you should go to the funeral.”

  Then she would be dead.

  Ash fisted the phone, and started counting out loud, “11, 12, 13…”

  “Ash, listen to me.”

  “14, 15—”

  “Stop counting!”

  Ash focused on Hunter. The dark rings under his cousin’s eyes, and the new beard, made Hunter appear older than twenty-five.

  Hunter breathed out. “You needa accept what’s happened so you can start healing.”

  “You sound like that counsellor at the hospital, and I told her the same thing: I’m better now, nuthin’ happened to me and my mum’s gonna walk through the door at any moment, then you guys are all gonna laugh at me like it wuz a big joke.” Ash threw the phone at the wall. “Now, fuck off!”

  Hunter remained still. “I understand what you’re goin’ through. After my parents’ accident I also refused to accept their deaths, but I had to in the end, so that I could move on with my life. It still hurts, but it does get better. I know you’re also dealing with what Chaz…” Hunter breathed out. “I’m sorry; I just wanna help you.”

  Ash squeezed his eyes shut. Hunter touched his head. Ash didn’t understand why the gesture comforted him now when it didn’t with Chaz.

  Because Chaz made you feel uncomfortable … and now you know why.

  Ash covered his face with an arm. “Nuthin’ happened, they were just dreams.”

  Hunter removed his hand. “I think today’s been a bit much for you. You’re still not fully recovered from that roofie and coming here... I’m sorry for pushing you. Catch some sleep, we’ll talk later.”

  After Hunter had left the room, Ash opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, trying his best to stay awake. Although he wanted to sleep, he didn’t want what came with it—his dreams nightmares.

  ***

  Ash felt his shirt get tugged over his head, suffocating him briefly. His arms flopped onto the mattress like dead weights.

  ‘I’m sorry, I tried; I really did.’ Chaz undid Ash’s belt. ‘But I promise you won’t remember a thing, I’ve made sure of that.’

  Blackness took Ash, then movement brought him back. He was lying naked on his stomach. His legs were pushed apart. The realisation of what was going to happen hit him hard. He cried out, desperately trying to get away, but his body remained motionless. Pain entered him, ripping out a scream. Chaz swore, then pushed Ash’s face into the pillow. Fighting to breathe, Ash threw the pillow onto the floor and bolted upright, almost falling off the bed. Panicked, his gaze swept the room, both confused and relieved when he realised he was alone. He patted his body, the feel of his shirt and jeans a welcome surprise.

  “A dream.”

  Shakily, he pushed out of bed, his body a touch sore. Still, it was a huge improvement from earlier in the week when he’d hurt all over: his stomach, head, and… But that didn’t mean Chaz had done what Hunter had said, the diarrhoea could have caused the pain.

  You know he did.

  Ash held his head, trying to stop the sick thoughts. Chaz wouldn’t do that to him; his stepdad wasn’t gay, he was married. Plus, he hadn’t seen Chaz do anything to him.

  But, you heard and felt him.

  Ash dug his fingers into his scalp. “Shut up, shut up! Nuthin’ happened.”

  You’re lying.

  “Shut up!”

  Admit it.

  “No!” His hand whipped out, knocking his trophy off the bookshelf. It hit the floor, the little plastic rugby player separating from the base. “Shit!” He picked up the pieces, mad at himself for breaking it. It had been the only trophy he’d ever received for rugby, something his mother was proud of.

  The sound of a phone ringing caught his attention. He put his broken trophy back on the bookshelf and opened the bedroom door, hoping that Hunter wasn’t around. As he crept down the passage, the ringing stopped. He poked his head into the dining
-room, freezing as a sudden burst of swearing came from outside, Hunter’s voice loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

  “I don’t give a shit if you’re his father, you never acted like one.”

  His father was here!

  “Like hell!” Hunter continued. “You aren’t allowed anywhere near him. That boy has suffered enough.”

  Ash slowly crept towards the backdoor and peaked through the curtain. Relief quickly replaced fear. Hunter was talking on the phone with his back to Ash.

  “Love? I hate to see what ya do to the people you hate, and if you’d cared ‘bout your family you would’ve stopped snorting meth, then maybe Natasha wouldn’t have divorced you and married that sick bastard.”

  Ash squeezed his eyes shut. Father, stepfather, they both hurt him. No, Chaz didn’t.

  You’re lying again.

  Nuthin’ happened!

  Hunter continued to shout into the phone. “I ain’t telling ya that, you’re not welcome at the funeral.”

  Funeral. The word made Ash sick every time he heard it. He couldn’t imagine his mother dead—no matter what he saw in his dreams. He rubbed his chest to stop himself from getting worked up, because this time the word hadn’t been said to him—making it real. But, Hunter hadn’t said whose funeral it was. It could’ve been someone else’s—

  You know that’s bullshit.

  But it doesn’t feel right, she’s my mum.

  She’s dead.

  No, she’s not!

  Then prove it. Go home and find her.

  Ash tiptoed over to his trainers, pulled them on, then quietly slipped out the front door. He ran down the pathway and turned right at the gate. He headed up Pleasant Parade, the road’s name a joke: Rundown houses, graffitied fences, a stray dog with its nose in an overturned bin and booming rap music made up most of the urban landscape.

  He stopped where the road met Banks Street. Feeling sick, he placed his hands on his knees for a breather. Barking made him jump. He glanced at a fence covered in black graffiti. Claws scraped against the other side, the dog hidden behind its wooden prison. Chaz had promised him a dog for his birthday.

  Ash started walking again, his eyes going everywhere, trying to latch onto anything to get Chaz out of his head. Children’s voices came from the school across the road, distracting him for a moment. A few spits of rain touched his face, soft not rough like the hands that had tugged at his shirt. He dug his nails into his palms, upset that he’d thought about the dream again.