by JM HART
“Yeah, but that’s because I have a sister and she never likes to rumble with me.”
“Who does she like to rumble with?” Alex asked.
“She likes to rumble with her —”
Kevin kicked Tim in the leg before he could finish. “Good to go?” Kevin asked.
“Guys, downstairs, I’m going to be late for work,” Daniel yelled from the foot of the stairs.
Alex held onto Tim’s leg and slid across the polished floor as Tim walked down the hall to the stairs.
“Alex — get up!” Callie snapped as she walked across the hall into Molly’s bedroom.
Alex jumped to his feet and slipped on his socks, he lost his balance, falling, tilting forward over the edge of the stairs when Kevin reached out and grabbed him from behind. “Alex! Be careful.”
“Thanks, K. I’m glad you’re my big brother.”
“I wouldn’t swap you for Tim’s sister.”
“Guys, come on!” Daniel yelled again.
Kevin yelled downstairs to his dad. “If it’s too much trouble, Dad, we don’t have to go. We can wait till he comes out of hospital?”
“Come on, guys, I don’t think he is going to get many visitors, do you?”
“Um — no, I suppose not.” Kevin looked at Tim and shrugged.
They walked down the stairs as if going to a funeral and slowly climbed into the Dodge. Daniel took off as soon as they were buckled up.
“Where is everyone?” Tim said. “Was there an evacuation nobody told us about last night or what.”
Brown smog nuzzled against the grey sky making it seem as if it was late in the afternoon. The morning traffic was practically non-existent. The peak hour traffic had reduced by ninety per cent and all the cars seemed to have congregated in the hospital parking lot.
“Why are all these people sleeping in their cars, Dad?”
“I don’t know, Kevin. Let me find a place to park around the back at the service entrance and we can find another way in.”
Kevin was feeling agitated and itchy. They walked along the service road past a stinking garbage truck. “Do you think it’s going to rain?”
Daniel looked up into the sky. “I don’t know. It’s dark but that doesn’t look like a rain cloud. It looks more like a metallic dust storm; it reminds me of iron shavings.”
“You mean the ones that we used in science to show the magnetic pulling and repelling forces?” Kevin said.
“Yeah, yeah, I do, I did that when I was at school too. It’s good to know some things don’t change.”
“So that’s where Kevin gets his nerdiness from,” Tim said. “Like father, like son. I thought it was his mom. Not that you’re not smart, Mr. D — it’s just that she developed medicine, experimented on blood and stuff. Um, I think I should stop talking now.”
“Good idea. She’s a geneticist, Tim,” Daniel said.
The hospital lawns generally would be littered with med students enjoying a coffee and fresh air before heading back in to finish, or start, a twelve-hour shift. Makeshift tents to treat the infected were lined up across the lawn with military precision. The trio entered the hospital from a side entrance and took the fire stairs up to the ward. “Why does Shaun get a bed when there are so many sick people outside, Mr D? It doesn’t seem right.”
“They’re all infected, quarantined.”
“Kevin, you’re being quiet.”
“I’m okay, Dad.”
*
Shaun lay with his back to the door, staring out the hospital double-glazed window. He heard the door open and didn’t move, didn’t care who it was or why; probably a social worker. He just wanted everyone to get off his case. The last time he was in the hospital was to say goodbye to his mom, but he hadn’t been able to do it. She had looked so scary, he was frightened. He didn’t want to say goodbye, he wanted her to come home. Now he lay in the same hospital. The nurses had probably called his dad and his dad probably ignored the call; no surprise there. The nurse said he could go home once an adult signed for his discharge otherwise he would have to go with child services. Shaun could see the intruder’s reflection in the window. She was a stout woman with a no-nonsense attitude, sitting with a clipboard on her knee and asking him questions. He refused to turn or answer.
“The police have been past your home and your father seems to be out. You’re under eighteen and we can’t let you go home alone.”
“Get out, leave me alone!” Shaun picked up the plastic cup of water and threw it at the woman. She ducked as if she had done this a million times.
“Being rude and yelling will get you nowhere. If you haven’t noticed, there are a lot of sick people and no one is going to pay any particular attention to you. So let’s stop wasting each other’s time and get this over with.”
*
Kevin watched his dad poke his head around the door on the first floor and then quickly close it. Kevin caught a glimpse and it looked like Central Station. His dad did the same thing on every floor until they reached the fifth. Daniel opened the door, poked his head around then yanked it open wide. The floor was empty. They walked towards a nurses’ station.
“What’s your friend’s last name,” Daniel asked, scanning the patient board. “Is it Grady?”
“You know more than me. We hardly know the guy.”
“Why would you lend your bike to someone you hardly know? There’s his name.” Daniel pointed at the nurses’ whiteboard and read Shaun’s room and bed number.
“Let’s just get this visit over with. This place gives me the creeps,” Tim said. “Are we in the psych ward? What’s with all the yelling? Maybe I should go wait in the car?”
Daniel put one hand on Tim’s shoulder and one hand on Kevin’s and ushered them down the hall. Kevin realized they were heading in the right direction as soon as he recognized it was Shaun yelling obscenities.
“What the hell!” Daniel said, letting go of the boys’ shoulders. He extended his stride, moving faster towards the commotion. He pushed open the door to Shaun’s room. “What’s going on in here?”
“You know this boy?”
“Well, no, but my boy does.” The three boys stared at each other. Tim couldn’t help feeling a sense of satisfaction seeing Shaun all banged up.
Shaun saw them as his ticket out of the place. “Hi, guys. Glad you could make it. I was hoping you would swing by.”
Kevin glanced at Tim, wondering what Shaun was up to.
“Sorry, I missed your name,” Daniel said to the social worker.
“I didn’t say. This boy needs an adult to sign for his release and we can’t get hold of his parents. Not that I’m surprised. There is a multitude of homeless children right across the city. I don’t know why I get up and go to work each day. Nobody else seems to bother.”
Daniel was taken back by this woman’s lack of compassion. He moved closer and spoke with a soft tone. “His mother died, and I think his father is having a rough time with it,” he said.
Kevin didn’t know much about Shaun and he was surprised that his dad did.
“A lot of people are dying if you haven’t noticed,” the woman said in a matter-of-fact way.
Daniel stepped closer to Shaun and examined the stitches in his cheek as he spoke to the social worker. “I saw his dad only yesterday. We had a bit of a catch-up on his porch.”
Why would he be talking to Shaun’s dad? Kevin thought.
“Well, sir, maybe you can help out on this one. I have an extensive list of displaced kids. It seems that a side effect of the virus is to abandon your children. I thank God I don’t have any.”
“I don’t need nobody’s help,” Shaun said. “I’ll take the train.”
“Don’t be stupid, boy. You have a broken cheekbone, eight stitches in your face and you can barely see out of that swollen eye. Ludicrous!”
“My dad must have worked last night. He’s probably asleep. He sometimes turns off his phone. No need to get twisted about it.” Shaun swung his feet over t
he edge of the bed.
Daniel realized Shaun was trying to make excuses for his dad, who was no doubt home passed out drunk. “That’s fine, give me your pen.”
“What? What’s fine, Dad?” It registered to Kevin what his dad was doing. “No. He can call his own dad. His dad will come sooner or later.”
“No, Kevin, it’s okay. We’ll drop him off,” Daniel said and took the social worker’s plastic clipboard and signed the documents.
She put the documents and clipboard into a folder, snapped it closed and marched out of the room.
Shaun was out of bed. Groggy, he grabbed his bloody shirt and jeans out of the pink hospital bag. He dropped the gown to the floor and pulled on his smelly clothes. He hadn’t even finished buttoning up his jeans as he went for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Daniel said.
“Home.”
“I said I’ll take you and I will. Kevin, help your friend get his stuff together. I’ll call work and let them know I’ll be late.”
“Okay.” Kevin looked around the room to see what could be Shaun’s stuff. He watched him shove a wallet and phone in his back pocket; a leather pouch went into his front pocket along with a set of keys. He had no shoes, and there wasn’t anything else in the room.
*
The three boys and Daniel walked back to the car, avoiding the chaos at the front entrance.
“How did it happen?” Daniel asked Shaun.
Shaun stared straight ahead out the windshield. “I dunno, I don’t remember.”
“Kevin and Tim said you were on the roof. Were you?”
“Dunno.”
“They said you were struck by a piece of metal.”
“They talk too much. What are you, a cop? No, that’s right, you’re a firey.”
“Were you watching me the other day from the roof? How do you know what I do for a crust?”
Shaun didn’t answer. He sat in the front of the Dodge next to Daniel, pretending to be asleep. “This is your place, right,” Daniel said, turning off the engine.
“Yeah. I'm all right, I don’t need an escort.” He jumped out of the car and ran to the front door before Daniel could take off his seat belt. He fished his key out of his pocket and let himself in. He leant inside the door, suggesting he was talking to someone — popped back out and gave an all-okay wave. He flipped the bird and quickly shut the door.
Shaun walked around the house, seeing if the coast was clear. He was alone. He went to his bedroom and emptied his pockets onto his bed, then went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
He tried to avoid looking in the mirror. He was feeling frustrated and wanted to punch himself in the face for being so weak, and instantly struck out at his reflection, smashing the glass. He looked at his father’s razor, transfixed. Shaun turned on the shower, stepped in fully clothed and sat on the floor. He buried his head in his knees and cried. The salt of his tears stung. The bite of the cold water pelting hard against his head and cheeks hurt. He imagined he was in a nuclear decontamination shower. He peeled off his jeans, stamped out of his underwear and yanked his wet shirt over his head. His skin quickly turned red from the battering of the cold water. He lost track of time as he continued to inflict pain upon himself. Eventually, his body went numb. He reached up to the soap holder, and pulled himself up. The cracked vanity mirror distorted his image and he refused to look at himself as he left the bathroom sopping wet, grabbing a clean towel from the hall cupboard. Shaun wrapped the towel around his hips and shook his head like a dog, splashing water onto the walls. Emotionally exhausted, he went into his room and locked the door before collapsing on his bed.
*
Daniel leant out the car window. “I’ll see you boys tonight. Stay out of trouble. I’d prefer it if you steered clear of the Grady’s for a bit.”
“Gladly,” Kevin and Tim said in unison and waved Daniel goodbye. As usual, old man Pat was pretending to concentrate on watering his wife’s flowers, but Kevin saw that his eyes kept drifting down the road, staring at the same parked black car. He waved to the old guy, who didn’t wave back. Kevin’s Apollo was still propped up against the garage. “Hop on. We can get your stuff later,” Kevin said climbing on his bike.
“Why don’t we take your dad’s dirt motorbike?”
“Old man Pat’s watching and it’s not a dirt bike. It’s a BMW GS.”
“That means squat to me.”
“It’s an on-road off-road motorbike. You have to have a license to ride it. Dirt bikes you don’t. I don’t think I could ride it anyway. I would need to use the gutter or a rock to get on and off. Knowing my luck, I’d drop it and not be able to lift it back up.”
“You’re the luckiest dude I know. You thinketh and so be it. Like your pushbike … and what about the ice-cream van last summer? Whenever you were craving an ice- cream, it pulled into whatever street we were on, turning on its scary clown music.”
“That was summer. The guy was driving down all the streets.”
“Well, what about when you wanted to fly your grandpa’s plane? Your mom had that research assistant summer-thingy in the US, and you were shipped off to the farm. He let you help with the crop dusting. You got to fly the plane, K.”
Tim climbed on the seat and Kevin pedaled standing up, ignoring Tim’s constant chatter. The bike wobbled with the extra weight as they entered the street. Kevin steadied the bike, just missing the side mirror of a parked car.
“Go to mine,” Tim shouted. “I’ll take Kath’s old bike. She won’t miss it. I’m starved and have to pee anyway.”
For the whole time, riding to Tim’s place, old man Pat was the only person Kevin saw. He steered the Apollo into Tim’s driveway. Tim and Kevin jumped off the bike and raced into the house, using the bathroom and getting a quick feed.
Heading down to the river, the hot sun bored through the dense cluster of clouds. The anthill remained flattened; the stench of rotting kangaroos and wombats harbored a frenzy of flies. Kevin slowly cycled along the dirt road as if it was a cemetery. There was an eerie absence of sound: no crickets, no birds, and even the usual few lizards and slithering brown snakes were gone. Kevin coasted on one pedal, ready to dismount and drop his bike on the sandy embankment. The tide was out and Kevin felt a sense of foreboding. He stopped and took off his shoes, tying the laces together and flinging them over his shoulder. He pushed his bike downstream along the edge of the river.
“Where are you going?” asked Tim following Kevin.
“I’m looking for a good place to cross.” The river narrowed and turned a corner. “Remember that time we walked down here and found those guys growing weed; we kept walking, pretending we didn’t see them?”
“We were lucky they didn’t shoot us. Shit, it’s humid. It’s not even summer yet.”
Kevin stopped where the river offered a sandbank. He bent down to pick up his bike and hoisted it onto his shoulder.
“What are you doing now?” asked Tim.
“I’m taking the Apollo with me. I’m not leaving it behind this time.”
Tim looked at his sister’s bike, contemplating if it was worth the effort. He came to the conclusion that it was better to carry it than have her pissed at him. He followed Kevin and waded through the shallow water. They helped each other lift the bikes up the embankment and climbed up themselves. They sat amongst the ashes and pulled on their runners. They silently walked back up the river.
“There, the remains of the burnt-out car.” Tim dropped Kath’s bike on its side.
Kevin kicked down the Apollo’s stand, and slowly moved around towards where the veil between the two worlds had been. He scanned for the shimmer of the wall. The passageway, or membrane — whatever it was —wasn’t there.
“Where do you think it went, K?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t imagine it. Your leg is a reminder that it was real. Did you see how Grady looked at you? He thought he was hallucinating.”
Tim rubbed his leg, remem
bering the pain, afraid it might come back.
“I was lying here,” Kevin said. “I could hear the animals and feel the trees. I was scared, man. I could hear the roar of the fire, like rolling thunder. I opened my eyes and first saw you. Beyond you, there it was: rich, lush ferns, green and vibrant. Tree trunks hung with moss, some so tall I couldn’t see where they ended. Then I felt the heat of the fire, looked back at you and started shitting myself big-time.”
Tim stretched out on the ground on his stomach.
“What are you doing?” Kevin said.
“I want to lie down and recreate what happened,” Tim said.
“Don’t be weird. Get up and let’s go, there’s nothing here.” Kevin started to walk to his bike. It happened right here! It really was here.
Tim got up and dusted the ashes off his cargo pants. “Seriously, I think you’re the one who created it.”
“You’ve seen too many sci-fi flicks,” Kevin scoffed.
Tim pulled Kevin’s arm. “Shh. Get down.”
They both crouched, listening. They heard voices moving towards them. There wasn’t much left of anything to hide behind, so they kept still.
Kevin whispered. “Let’s get up. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You’re crazy. What if it’s Grady and his thugs?”
“It sounds like a couple of men,” Kevin whispered. “Come on, they’re going to want to know why we’re hiding.” Kevin stood up, wrestling Tim to his feet. Kevin could see the badge of a fire investigation team on the side of each of their blue shirts. Regardless of the uniform, Kevin knew he had made a mistake. These guys were up to something; they didn’t fit with the uniform.
“It’s the investigation team,” Tim said.
“Tim, something’s not right. I’ve met all the guys at Dad’s station. I don’t know these guys.” Kevin couldn’t quite put his finger on it. They didn’t have any equipment with them for a start. He saw the two men climb up the embankment and wave at the two boys. They looked European, perhaps Italian, Greek, or maybe Russian, he thought. One was older with short, cropped hair and was taller than the other, who was younger. They were both buffed to the max. Kevin’s mind reeled with images from the old mafia movies his grandpa used to watch.