Rage of Winter

by Sam Herrera

  “You live here?” I asked.

  “The penthouse in your building.”

  “So, we’re neighbors? People think we’re seeing each other.”

  “Really? Well, we are, aren’t we?” she grinned.

  “No,” I frowned.

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Very. Funny,” I scoffed, as she started chuckling.

  She stopped, heaved a sigh, then… “They’ve made a sex tape of us.”

  “Wwwwhat?” I blinked.

  “Well, not us, obviously.” I spun on my heel, walked into my apartment and turned on my laptop, trawling through most of the gossip to find it.

  “God almighty,” I whispered, seeing it. I guessed somehow her sexuality had leaked and now… this. Fucking perverts. It was explicit, and disgusting, and, even worse, it was entitled with our names even if it didn’t have our faces.

  “Does that disgust you?” she asked, walking in.

  “Yes,” I snapped.

  “It’s not us, like I said. So who cares?”

  “I’m just… not used to this.”

  “It will blow over. The truth will come out.”

  “Do you know other people might be disgusted?”

  “That’s their problem, not mine.”

  “What about your family?”Shit. Nice one, bigmouth. She swallowed hard; her only answer. “Sorry.”

  “I have a girlfriend already and she trusts me.”

  I envied her: she was proud and comfortable in her own sexuality and the paparazzi were nothing to her.

  “See ya,” she smiled. She rapped on the door across the hall and I saw she had company at home: a tall blonde with long legs. I could see every inch of them courtesy of the button-up shirt she wore and the pants she didn’t. I looked away, blushing slightly as they leaned into each other for a deep kiss.

  “Hey, don’t mind me,” I muttered, my eyes wide.

  “Hey,” I heard the blonde say suddenly as she was about to shut the door, “Father’s Day party going on. Are you coming?”Ah, Jesus. Chuckling at the bitter irony, I closed my door.

  MARA

  I brought my feelings for Caleb with me, in my head and on sheets of paper, as I walked up to the bank of Windermere. It was a bright early morning when I took a rowboat from the dock, putting my guitar at the bottom, untying it and rowing away. We’d arranged to meet on the opposite bank. As I rowed I tried to recall where Fred had pointed to me. I shrugged. I would find it soon. How I was going to find the strength to strum after this was more of a mystery. Do they expect me to do this every time we rehearse? Still the scenery was great. I looked at all the water around me. If it hadn’t been cloudy, I expect I would have been dazzled by the shimmering. As it was the water was a toned-down, murky green. All around the lake were the rolling downs behind the forest just behind the shore. I waved up at a cruise ship crossing the lake a few miles away and some kids, leaning over the guardrail, waved back. I finally reached the shore, my arms aching, and, throwing my guitar over my shoulder, walked forward, hearing the sounds of strumming. My newfound friend, Fred, and his brother, were already set up and making some alright sounds. I smiled sarcastically at Fred’s black-and-flame guitar. The brother, whom I didn’t recognize, did a double take at the sight of me. I supposed either he didn’t go to our school or no one had told him. Either way, I sighed and walked forward.

  “Hi,” I smiled. “Mara Hale.”

  “Dom…Freeman,” he nodded, still looking freaked.

  “Dom, quit staring,” Fred frowned. Yeah, Dom, quit it. Shrugging it off, I put down my guitar and unzipped the case.

  “So, show me what ya got.”

  “Why don’t you show us?” Dom challenged. “You gonna do some AC/DC or somethin’?”

  “No, actually I’ve brought my own lyrics.” The brothers glanced at each other and shrugged.

  “Okay, show us what ya got.”

  Nodding, I took a bunch of tacks from my pocket and nailed the lyrics to a nearby tree. I dug out my pick and began to strum a swift, steady beat as I sang:

  I’ve wandered through it all: fire, ice and alienation.

  All my life I have been viewed with fascination.

  An outcast, a slip-up of God’s hand.

  A stranger in a strange land.

  But you take all that away. Let us be real, I pray.

  I feel you everywhere, in the stars and sky,

  But especially in the smile on my face and the gleam in my eye.

  I was always a searcher, now I am sure

  I’ve found, for it, the cure.

  I’ve wandered through it all: fire, ice and alienation.

  All my life I have been viewed with fascination.

  An outcast, a slip-up of God’s hand.

  A stranger in a strange land.

  I owe ya for the Band-Aid on my heart.

  Even if you always act so smart,

  I can see the real man beneath all that rot

  And God, does he make me hot.

  I’ve wandered through it all: fire, ice and alienation.

  All my life I have been viewed with fascination.

  An outcast, a slip-up of God’s hand.

  A stranger in a strange land.

  I’ve looked all my life for what you make me feel.

  It scares me, makes me naked, a fruit without peel.

  But I can’t help but smile at this feeling.

  It’s my misery you’re stealing.

  I’ve wandered through it all: fire, ice and alienation.

  All my life I have been viewed with fascination.

  An outcast, a slip-up of God’s hand.

  A stranger in a strange land.

  I’m glad I crossed the ocean. I’m glad, you I got to see.

  I’m glad of the strange bond between you and me.

  I’m in such serious trouble here.

  But I don’t care, my dear.

  I’ve wandered through it all: fire, ice and alienation.

  All my life I have been viewed with fascination.

  An outcast, a slip-up of God’s hand.

  A stranger in a strange land.

  I can smile, for the first time, naturally.

  I feel I can now truly be.

  I would not trade anything for this sweet pain.

  All I want is to see you. Again. And. Again.

  I’ve wandered through it all: fire, ice and alienation.

  But you see me as God’s creation.

  You and I are a family band.

  I’m no stranger in a strange land.”

  When I came out of my trance, I looked up at my small audience. Slowly they stopped strumming along and began to applaud. The clapping just continued until their hands must have been about to fall off. I grinned and took a few bows, feeling as though I were walking on air.

  SARAH

  I looked down at my growing stomach, sighing and shaking my head. I felt beaten. We were getting nowhere. The PI she’d hired had vanished and I harbored horrible doubts we’d ever hear from him again. The cops weren’t any fucking help either. I’d showed them what Mara had discovered and they had just ignored it. So now Kyle faced trial a week from now and it looked as though he didn’t have a prayer. Sighing, I opened the door. If it’s press, I swear to God.

  “Hi,” she smiled.

  “Hello,” I snapped. Letting her in, with a frustrated sigh, I waddled towards the kitchen to make her a drink.

  “Sarah, I have to tell you something.”

  “Okay,” I said, coming back with it. What? I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. It looked like someone was outside the window…on the thirtieth floor.

  “Hold up. What the hell?” I wondered, frowning. I opened the window and got the shock of my life.

&nbs
p; “Fuck!” I yelled as a news helicopter just jumped out at me from nowhere. Leaping back, I slammed the window and yanked the curtains. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” I gasped, leaning against the far wall, my hand over my racing heart. “Your fans are here,” I told her.

  “Awwww, shit,” she scowled, pulling the curtain back slightly. She quickly let it fallbefore they saw her. I didn’t know whether to laugh or…what? I should have seen this coming, I guess. Our sex tape had sold like hot cakes. So hadCouchdrool and Puddle Star.

  “Can I use your phone?” I nodded.

  “Those gossipy assholes,” she growled, shaking her head as she put it down. “I like these,” she remarked.

  “What?” I followed her gaze to the framed pictures on the far wall and blushed slightly. When we had first moved in together Kyle had insisted, to my intense embarrassment, on putting up all the old paintings I had done as a kid. He’d insisted they were good. Huh!

  “What’s this one supposed to be?” she asked, pointing to my own version of a shooting star.

  “Shooting star,” I told her.

  “It looks more like a missile, or a firework, or something. When I first saw it, it looked like the sun.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Chill, I never said it was bad. Congrats, by the way,” she added, indicating my swollen stomach.

  “Thanks.”

  “Have you stopped hurling yet?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Mom was the same when I was on the way: hurling and eating all the time. Once she threw up all over Dad. Don’t let me detain you, by the way.” I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as I waddled to the kitchen for breakfast, liking more than I should the image of her father covered in puke.

  “Fuck’s sake,” I growled, seeing camera flashes behind the curtain.

  “Go ahead,” I yelled opening the window,“keep scaring the shit out of myneighbors. Do. Whatever. The. Fuck. You. Like!” I came back in, slamming it, with a face like thunder. “God!Dicks.”

  “I’m sorry about all this,” she said, looking a little shame-faced.

  “Not your fault. Like you said, they’re assholes.”

  She nodded. “Listen, there’s something I have to tell you.” We both looked at the phone as it started ringing.

  MARA

  I gripped the wheel tightly, feeling just as nervous as I had singing in front of people for the first time. I’d passed my test, yes. But that had been in a controlled environment was an instructor by my side. Chill, chill, you’ll be fine. You. Have. Passed. Still I hadn’t been behind the wheel since and I felt the old lurch in my stomach as I turned the key in the ignition and set off. I hit the open road, trying not to notice, too much, the other cars whizzing by. I drove carefully but not slow enough to cause congestion, putting all the things I had been taught to the forefront of my mind: clutch, gas or petrol or whatever they called it, gears, rearview, safe distance and feeding the hands. My phone began vibrating on its stand.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I smiled as I kept well back from the big truck in front of me.

  “How are you?” Caleb said.

  “I’m good,” I shrugged.

  “Cool. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  I love the sound of your voice too. I winced as a gang of Asian kids, with their car engines and stereos going full blast, roared past me. Welcome to the joys of the English dual carriageway.

  “Are you driving?”

  “Learning to. Why?”

  “Okay, I’ll speak to you soon. See ya.”

  “See ya,” I whispered, a little nonplussed. Give me a chance to answer you. I completed my driving test and did okay, I supposed, but was left wondering if I had said or done something to offend him.

  *

  As I was watching T.V, just flicking through the channels,, the one particular ad on road safety caught my attention. “The moment you know they’re driving, kill the conversation,” the TV warned, displaying a photo of a car wreck. I blinked quite a few times, leaning back in my chair. So that was it: the moment he’d known I was driving, he had killed the conversation. I was truly touched and warmed by his unspoken regard for my wellbeing.

  *

  We wandered along the path that skirted Windermere and led up to the Grey family stables. This silence was still so alien to me, so new. All I could hear was birdsong and the distant mooing of the cattle in the farmhouses. I couldn’t help admiring my companion as well as my surroundings. We had both taken off a layer as it was sunny and hot. Caleb had slung his leather jacket over his shoulder, hanging it by one finger as he always did. I swallowed hard as I admired, out of the corner of my eye as I always did, the way his blue T-shirt clung to his lanky muscular frame and matched perfectly the color of his brilliant eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he said gruffly. I waved to a russet-red horse leaning her neck over the wooden door of her stable to get a look at us. “She’s beautiful.”

  “He,” he corrected. “This is Dasher, Summer’s favourite. She’s always riding him. Sorry if I was rude yesterday.”

  “Not at all. Thanks,” I smiled as I stroked Dasher’s silky neck and black, bristly mane.

  “For?”

  “What you did.” He looked blank. “Ending the call. Road safety and all that.”

  “I care about you.”I care about you too.

  *

  I went to the school gym, the next day, joining the rest of the junior class as we did weights, running, and the punch bag. Buzzing with energy, I whaled on the bag, hardly letting anyone else have a go. I was pouring sweat; breathing like a steam train and my hair was whipping behind me like comet’s tail as I swung one foot, full force, against the bag for the umpteenth time.

  “Bravo, Mara, but I think it’s time someone else had a go, don’t you?” Smiling ruefully, I nodded and stepped aside, I caught a glimpse of myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors on the far wall and smiled proudly: broad shoulders, forearms roped with wiry, well-defined muscle and no hint of a stomach. Not bad at all.

  NYS FACES TRIAL.

  I shook my head in dismay. I’d been having a nice time at school. But then, when I got home, I just hadn’t been able to resist torturing myself with this.

  “Hello, Mara.”

  I looked up from trawling the grim news on my laptop in dismay and blinked quite a few times. Eve stood in the doorway.

  “Um, hi.” A few moments of pregnant silence fell.

  “Watching the news I see.”

  “I will disembowel you,” I glared, closing the laptop with a snap. “I mean it.” She sighed and nodded.

  “May I come in?”What do you want, I wondered as she came in without waiting for an answer. She sat beside me, on the bed, and sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Mara. I’ve not spent much time with you, have I?”No. We’d hardly spoken at all since I’d made my opinion on the subject of Kyle’s guilt crystal clear.

  “I hear you’ve joined the junior gym.”

  “Yeah,” I smiled, remembering the sandwich on the bed beside me and taking a bite. “It was good. Phillips, my teacher, is a great coach. Encouraging.”

  “Have you heard how your pal is doing?”

  “I’ve spoken to him on the phone. He’s okay. Well, he’s obviously not, but…” She nodded again and swallowed hard.

  “You still think he’s innocent?”

  “Yes.”

  She shrugged, after a few moments of awkward silence wished me goodnight and left. I called Sarah, wondering if she was alright, but it wasn’t her who picked up.

  “Hello?” a strange female voice answered. Is this who I think it is? It is. I would know that voice anywhere.

  “Um, hi, is Sarah there?”

  “Hold on, I’ll go get her.”

  “Wait.” I as
ked her if she was who I knew she was.

  “Yeah. Who are you?”

  “Mara Hale.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard your name mentioned.”

  “I’ve heard your name mentioned a lot too. Did Sarah mention her boyfriend, my friend, to you and that they have a baby on the way?” I asked, an accusing note creeping into my voice.

  “Yes,” she sighed, “I can see that. So what?”

  “So what?” I blinked. “Well, aren’t you just a little bit ashamed?”

  “No, because I have nothing to be ashamed of. Do you want me to get her or not?”

  “First I want to know what’s going on with you two.”

  “Look, I don’t care what you want. Sarah,” she yelled into the phone, making my ears ring, “it’s your bitchy niece.”I’m the bitch, huh?

  SARAH

  I took the phone and she flopped back on the couch, scowling at the pounding door that we were both ignoring.

  “Hey, Mara.”

  “Hi, nice friend you’ve got.”

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “What is with you and her?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I told her.

  “Of course I’m gonna worry about it.”

  “It’s none of your business, alright.” I hung up, not in the mood.

  “How are you?” I asked, seeing her come back in and offering her a coffee from the table.

  She sighed in defeat. “Miserable. I hate him. I hate him for what he’s doing to me, to those people. For what he’s still doing. Some of them were children. What’s wrong with him? He raised me and he does that to them.”

  Her wounded eyes lowered. She sat heavily, her face going the wrong sort of shape as it did when one was holding back tears. It was true. He was a monster. I sat next to her, offering her a tissue from the box, which she declined. She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. We sat, for a long while, in awkward silence. We could do little else; the press were trapping us there. Suddenly,I remembered a time when I had been really hormonal and miserable. Kyle had jumped me. If I was right some leftovers from our little battle were still here. My guest watched me curiously as I got up and walked into the kitchen.