Between Before and After (20 page)

“It doesn’t matter where you start. Start anywhere, just start talking,” Finn said, walking around to sit down on the coffee table beside Gavin.

He nodded curtly. It felt like his head might fall off his shoulders. He tried to take a deep breath but he found himself almost choking instead. He could feel the sadness eating away at him. The hole inside of him was getting bigger and blacker with every passing day and he was falling in, he could feel it. He had to do something. 

Kate settled on the floor at his feet, wiping her eyes, waiting.

They were all waiting. 

Three years earlier

It had been a while since Max had taken a sick day. He usually forced himself to go to work no matter how hung over he was. Today, though, he didn’t even feel guilty about it. The place wouldn’t collapse without him, and it was clear that something was going on with Danny that was far and away beyond the realms of normal behaviour, even for him.

He phoned in sick, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt rather than his customary work clothes, and made his way over to Danny and Kate’s. Traffic was light, giving him further opportunity to try and phrase his questions so that Danny would give him the answers he needed. The closer he got to the house, the less sure he was about what he was doing there. Maybe he shouldn’t get involved? No. It had gone far beyond that. Kate was terrified, by all accounts. She was his friend, too.

When Finn had called him last night, telling him that Danny had flipped out and Kate was staying over at his place, he could barely believe it. That in itself was unusual, even given his weird behaviour recently. Then it got even weirder. When Finn told him that Danny had threatened to hit her, he got chills. As long as he had known him, Danny had never hit anyone – especially not a woman, especially not Kate. He was mouthy, he talked a good game, but an actual fight? No, no way. Max didn’t think he was capable of it.

His behaviour lately seemed to see-saw from sullen and moody, to withdrawn and depressed. Then last night, it had apparently taken an even more serious turn. He had no idea what was going on and he knew Finn was in the same boat. Even Kate appeared to be in the dark about it. Work was fine, everything was okay with his family, no one could really figure out what was going on, and he wasn’t enlightening them. Instead, he was burying his head in the sand and pushing them all away.

Well, fuck that. Enough was enough. Today, he was going to get some answers. While Finn was with Kate, he was going to go over there and have it out with Danny until he got the truth. This kind of thing had the potential to get really ugly.

He called the house before he left home, but the landline just went to the answerphone. It unnerved him when he called Danny’s cellphone, only to get a chirpy message from him on his voicemail that further reminded him of how different he was lately. It didn’t even sound like Danny anymore.

He pulled up outside the villa slowly, keeping a close eye on the kids riding their bikes in the neighbourhood. He had no idea why Danny and Kate loved this place so much. It had charm, but neither of them was a particularly keen gardener. The once-beautiful cottage-style garden was now overgrown, and the whole place could do with a lick of paint. With the landlord living overseas though, that kind of thing would probably be ignored for a while longer.

The front gate squealed as he opened it, and he cringed. Walking up the front steps and across the veranda, he tried to focus on what he could say that might get Danny to open up to him. Finn had said he was pretty distraught. He took that to be a good sign. He should be. Remorse was good. Answers were better, though.

He pressed the old button for the doorbell by the front door and heard it reverberating through the house. When Danny didn’t answer it a few moments later, he knocked instead. Still no answer.

“Mate, it’s Max!”

Nothing. He knocked again. Again, nothing. Out of patience now, he dug his car keys out of his pocket and searched through his key ring for the key to the door. Kate had given it to him one weekend when he had house-sat for them and he had just never given it back. It had come in handy on several occasions, including now. He found the key and opened the door, peering around it hesitantly.

“Danny? I’m coming in,” he called, mumbling as an afterthought, “You better not be sitting there in your birthday suit.”

No answer. He closed the door behind him and ventured into the hallway, heading for the living room.

“You here, mate?”

That’s when he saw him.

He was lying on his side on the living room floor, one arm beneath him, the other flung out wide. Wide eyes stared at him, sightless and empty, a pool of blood dark beneath his head.

Max’s heart stopped.

In a fraction of a second, his eyes absorbed everything but his brain refused to believe it.

Blood was everywhere. It dripped down the wall and seemed to cover everything, near and far. A distant part of his brain, able to function while the rest of him froze, knew he was dead. But another part – the part that tried to convince him that none of this was real – thought he might be alive. If he could just get him some help, he could save him.

He ran to him in slow motion, the keys slipping out of his hands and falling to the floor. The roaring in his ears blocked everything out. He sank down beside him, giving in to the panic as he carefully lifted Danny’s head into his lap.

“Jesus… fuck… hold on, Danny, just hold on!”

The small entry wound in the side of his head glared at him but he refused to acknowledge it for what it was. Blood slid down his fingers and settled in the sleeve of his shirt. He gagged, the smell of urine and decay overloading his senses.

“Help me!” he screamed. “Somebody please help me!”

Desperately trying to stem the blood, his fingers fell into the gaping hole in the other side of Danny’s head. Half his head was gone, disintegrated.

Realisation slammed into his chest, sucking the breath right out of his lungs.

He struggled to breathe as the contents of his stomach curdled. This can’t be happening. His hands shook violently as he cradled Danny’s head in his lap. Blood stuck to his skin, his fingernails, soaked through his shirt and his jeans. His trembling fingers hovered over Danny’s blood-soaked hair as he tried desperately to deny that what he was seeing was real.

Then he saw the gun, on the floor, just a few inches away from his hand. 

A low, anguished moan ripped at his throat as he bent double over him. The pieces of the puzzle that had been floating around in his head untethered, finally fell into place.

The picture it formed was brutally clear. He didn’t recognise the feral cries that filled the air around them. He didn’t even hear them. He saw nothing but Danny, frantically pulling him closer as he tried to gather the pieces of him up and put him back together.

Rocking backwards and forwards, he screamed again, Danny’s body heavy and lifeless in his arms.

“Help me! Somebody help me!”

Finn stared at him, numb.

“I thought that maybe…” Max whispered, his eyes wide, fixed on the floor. “But there was so much blood. And it was too late. He was already gone.”

Sitting on the floor in front of him, Kate sobbed into her hand. Finn automatically laid a trembling hand on her shoulder, incapable of much else. He blinked slowly, his head spinning. The only way he could keep it together was if he kept his mouth shut. If he opened it now, there was no telling what would come out. His teeth ached from the effort.

“I was too late.” Tears rolled down Max’s cheeks.

“You would never have…” Gavin cleared his throat and tried again. “They said he died instantly. You couldn’t have done anything.” Impulsively, he reached over and grabbed Max’s forearm. “You understand that, right?”

Max shrugged Gavin off. He wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt and cleared his throat.

“I need to get out of here. I can’t do this.” He got to his feet and stumbled over Kate as he made his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Kate stared up at him, bewildered.

He stopped short, as if he had forgotten what he was doing. Finn’s heart ached for him. It wasn’t fair. Max shouldn’t have to carry this around with him. It had been three years – that was long enough for anyone to endure. He deserved to have his life back.

Kate got to her feet unsteadily, wiping her eyes as she made her way over to him. She placed a trembling hand on his shoulder but he refused to turn around.

“I’m sorry,” he heard her whisper. “I’m sorry you had to find him and I’m sorry it hurts so much.”

Finn’s heart began to race. His whole body was sore, he was so tired. Listening to Max talk about that day was almost more than he could handle. He felt like everything was slipping away from him, like a handful of sand through his fingers. The tighter he held on, the faster it all disappeared. He couldn’t stop it. Like a familiar friend, anger rose up out of the depths of his soul. Only this time, it was accompanied by its twin – guilt. The voices in his head and in his heart came alive.

“This whole fucking mess is Danny’s, not yours. Stop punishing yourself – it wasn’t your fault.”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“I’m so sick of it!” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “This bullshit – the nightmares, the drinking, the fucking
guilt.
He’s the one who fucked up here Max, not you!”

He wanted to stop talking but he couldn’t, not now that he had started, not after all this time. Not after almost three years of burying all these feelings so deep down – carefully hidden so that he wouldn’t have to deal with them, ever. Except that they had burrowed their way out like worms, eating away at his insides, forcing their way to the top. They were at the surface now and they had to be dealt with, whether he was ready or not.

He whirled around and grabbed the thing nearest him – a wooden floor lamp. Ripping the plug out of the wall, he marched through the house and out of the back door. He raced through the carport, ignoring the voices that chased him.

Rounding the corner of the house, he spied the Monaro glinting in the moonlight. He broke into a sprint, turning the lamp upside down and raising it over his shoulder. Coming up alongside the car, he let loose, smashing the side window into a million satisfying pieces.

“Finn!”

Ignoring Gavin, he aimed a punishing blow at the window right next to it, watching as it too shattered, another piece of his heart shattering with it. He hit out at the car again as sweat poured off his brow, mingling with the frustrated tears streaming down his face. His head whirled with insult after insult, all aimed at Danny. He felt sick to his stomach, the anger, fear and frustration of the last three years pouring out of him.

Swinging the lamp, all he wanted was to hurt Danny. He needed to punish him for what he had done, to all of them. As much as he wanted the pain to stop, the frustration that burned inside of him refused to abate, no matter how hard he hit or what he smashed. Angry tears blinded him. He couldn’t even see what he was hitting anymore.

As he raised the lamp yet again, he was tackled from behind. He hit the ground hard and had the wind knocked out of him temporarily.

“Enough!” Gavin cried desperately, sitting on top of him. “No more!”

Recovering his presence of mind, he frantically struggled to free himself but found that Gavin had him pinned down, angering him even more.

“Get the fuck off me!” he growled, in a voice that he didn’t even recognise as his own.

He tried to wriggle out of his grip, but Gavin bounced his head off the hard ground. “That’s enough!”

Pain shot down his head and neck and he choked down a moan, finally giving up the fight. His body went limp, the effort to breathe engulfing all his remaining energy. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force down the sob that welled up inside him.

Gavin climbed off him and breathing suddenly became easier. A moment later, he was hauled upright. Exhausted, he hunched forward, his head bowed low. Helplessly, he could feel the anguish building up inside of him, searching desperately for release. He struggled to keep it down, but it burst out anyway.

“I should’ve known,” His heart sank as the truth came tumbling out. “I could’ve stopped all this – I could’ve stopped him.”

No one made a sound. Finn’s heart beat double-time in his chest and he thought he was going to be sick. Suddenly, Kate was kneeling in front of him, her eyes full of forgiveness and acceptance. If only she knew.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said gently.

“Finn, don’t waste –“

“You weren’t there!” he said, glaring up at Gavin. “He nearly hit Kate, for Christ’s sake! It was tearing him apart, and I just left him there! What the hell was I thinking?”

“You weren’t thinking he was going to kill himself – none of us were, we’ve been through this before, a hundred times!” Gavin shook his head. “You couldn’t have stopped him because he didn’t want to be stopped!”

“I saw him!” he blurted out, the words accompanied by a rush of fear and adrenaline. “I saw him do it!”

Silence surrounded them like a living entity, squeezing the air out of his lungs, drowning him in guilt and fear.

“I saw him put the gun to his head, pull the trigger,” he breathed. “I
saw
him.”