Fury (14 page)

I looked out the open front door. The crowd that had gathered around so eagerly before had all dispersed to the back of the house to stare aimlessly at the TV and drink and smoke and hook up. There was only one person left. Neil.

I watched the smile spread across Marianne’s face as she bent down and collected the other rock into her palm. I felt something burn inside me. I looked at Marianne, with her thin waist and her generous cleavage spilling over her dress and it burnt even more. It was possible I was jealous.

“Seeya,” I found myself saying and I marched out the door. Even though I told myself that I never wanted to see him again. I just didn’t want it to be Marianne instead.

“What?” I said to Neil when I got close enough. He was standing in the middle of the lawn, both hands shoved in his pockets. “You better have a bloody good reason to come back.”

“Rat B died.”

“Oh,” I said. “I thought he was getting better.”

“So did I.”

“I … I’m sorry.”

I truly was. I thought about Professor Adler then. I thought
about him pressing that trigger in class, again and again. Then I thought of Neil and his fist coming down on Aardant, again and again.

Neil reached into his pocket. Rat B’s eyes were wide open and beady. Looking at him, I was glad he had left his painful shell of a body.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“I reckon I’ll bury him by the Linden tree. Next to the shrine for Tacky.”

“Is that still there?” I asked, surprised.

“Why shouldn’t it be? It’s always been there,” replied Neil and he looked at my face.

I have known Neil for so long he has almost become a second skin. I thought I would always be comforted knowing he was there. Like my favourite pair of old bed-socks.

Under the night, beneath the strings of white paper lanterns, Neil looked … different. I always knew we could be a lot of things to each other. I just never thought it would be … weird.

“Why did you have to do that to Aardant?”

Neil shrugged and looked down at Rat B.

“Maybe I’m just a psycho monster. You tell me,” he said.

Maybe you’re a dick for trying to be Marianne’s knight in shining armour,
I wanted to say, but instead I thought that earlier that evening, Ella had called
me
the monster.

“Why are you so angry all the time, Neil?” I said, irritated.

“If I’m the kettle then hold on a second there, pot,” replied Neil and he put his hand out to touch me. I smacked it away.

“It was because of Marianne, wasn’t it?” I wasn’t prepared to let it go. I know I should have.

“I thought we are all friends.”

“I wish we weren’t.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do!” I was so annoyed. I took off my heels and threw them one by one toward the street. Then I paced up and down on the lawn in my bare feet.

“What is this about Marianne, anyway?”

“You tell me,” I shot back using his words. “You spend four hours a week alone together. Aren’t you, like,
soulmates?”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but Marianne spends most of that time writing notes, asking questions and ignoring me. When we talk about Chemistry, there’s more sparks flying between Mari and her textbook. Not Mari and me.”

I picked at the flaking skin around my fingernail.

“What do you honestly think of her?”

“She’s brilliant, of course.”

“See?” I pointed out.

“Have you ever considered that it’s not all about Marianne? Maybe sometimes it’s about you.”

I folded my arms and walked back up to him. We both stared down at Rat B in his palm. He looked so warm and furry, still.

“Anyway, I doubt I’m a bad enough boy for her. What do you think?”

I was thinking
Neil is a good guy. Neil’s promises are good.
I searched accusingly for traces of regret in his voice. I came back empty.

“I remember when you used to come over,” he said.

“It was my dad who used to bring me over.”

Ouch.
I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I didn’t mean to say that I didn’t like him … for the hundredth time, I should have apologised. Instead I shrugged. I didn’t particularly want to talk about what had been and what could have been.

“My dad is long gone.”

“Elle, have you ever wondered why your father used to bring you over all the time? When
my
father wasn’t around?”

“They were friends,” I said firmly. “They went to uni together. Just like Marianne and Lexi’s parents are friends with your parents. Maybe they thought the idea of us playing together was cute, I don’t know.”

I ignored that he called me
Elle.
No one calls me that except him.

Neil smiled. It looked painful.

From somewhere inside the house drifted a tuneless
Happy Birthday.
Jane Ayres must be cutting her cake. Her three-storey cake, made to look like a white castle, with marzipan turrets and sugar flags. To house the precious princess inside of her.

“How long has it been? Ten years now? More than that? Look, I’m sorry that your superhero dad flew away. I wished he’d stayed if that meant I’d get to see you. I still miss that you never come around anymore, Elle. Even after all this time.”

I forced myself to stare into his eyes. Brown. Belligerent. Bambi.

“Neil—”

“Elle,” said Neil. “If you weren’t grounded from going to the ball, I’d ask you.”

Out of the blue, the sprinklers came on.

We stood for while, slowly soaking.

“I’d better get going,” he said finally.

“I guess,” I replied.

We had said too much. It wasn’t good. But neither of us moved.

I watched the water drip off the end of his nose and onto his lips. He brushed his wet hair back. Neil looked so solemn. So pale. Quiet and handsome.

“Say hello to Tacky for me, won’t you?”

Neil nodded and put Rat B back inside his waistcoat pocket. I watched him as he walked off down the driveway. Hunched over against the world in his black knee-length coat, he looked like a semi-colon.

Back inside the house, someone pushed a plastic plate with a sliver of chocolate mud cake into my hands. I shovelled at it absentmindedly with my spork until it turned into mush.

I don’t know why it took me so long to go and find Lexi. I guess things got in the way.

“Lexi? Are you in there Lexi?”

The plaque on the door, edged in fluffy pink marabou, read
Jane
in glitter lettering. This was definitely the right room.

“Lexi, please open up if you can hear me. I’m worried about you.”

I knocked gently on the door.

“Lexi, can you hear me?”

“Go away!” came the muffled reply.

“Lex, this is Eliza. I’m not a Jane Blonde, if that’s what you’re worried about. Speaking of the Blondes, have I got a juicy bombshell for you. You’re so totally going to love this. Turns out the rumours are true! It’s all over!”

There was another muffled reply, but I couldn’t make out the words. It was followed by a crash.

“Lexi, I’m going to come in, okay?” I put my hand on the door handle. “This is Eliza. Not a Jane Blonde. Not a stranger.”

I pushed the door in gently. The room was black. The colour of Lexi’s earrings, brushing against her neck like little black holes. I couldn’t make out anything at first. I stood there and stared, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

The bed was empty. A little shockwave rippled through
me and I stopped breathing. Lexi was balled up in the corner, hiding behind a pillow. Next to her was a broken lamp.

“Lexi?” I said and I walked slowly toward her. I knelt down. “Babe, what are you doing on the floor? Come sit up on the bed with me.”

Lexi shook her head. I leaned over and looked into her face. Lexi’s eyes were wide. I couldn’t see any visible tear tracks on her face. She looked a little pale, but that might have just been from the moonlight.

“Do you want to go home now? Tell you what, I’m kinda getting sick of this party myself. It really does suck big time. Worst. Party. Eva.” I said and I laughed.

Lexi didn’t laugh back. She didn’t say anything. She just stared straight ahead, hugging the pillow in front of her.

“What’s happening in here? Why are you both in the dark? Can I turn the light on?”

I heard the shuffling of Marianne’s ridiculous dress and then felt the smoothness of her leg as it came to a stop against my arm.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know. I bet it’s got something to do with whatever drink your Art friends gave her,” I said. “Ditzy scrags.”

Marianne crouched down next to me.

“Lexi? Can you hear me?”

Lexi didn’t respond. Marianne turned to me.

“Something is definitely wrong with her. Maybe she’s drugged?”

“Well if she is, I can bet it’s got something to do with your hippie friends—”

“Shut up,” said Marianne. “That’s not helping. Let’s see if we can get her up. Here, you take one side and I’ll take the other.”

I took Lexi by the arm. As soon as we started to pull her upwards, she started to struggle. And boy, could she put up a fight.

“This is not helping either,” I shot back at Marianne.

“Well, what do you propose we do? Come on. Just hold her tighter.”

“Marianne! We can’t do this. I have never seen Lexi like this before—something is wrong, Mari—stop! Just stop!”

I shouted so loudly I scared myself. Marianne jumped and dropped Lexi’s arm.

“Okay, okay, just quit shouting at me!”

“Listen Marianne,” I said slowly and firmly, “when I ask you to do something I want you to respect me. End of story. I am the boss, not you. If you want to throw a tantrum and walk now, go ahead. Go to Jane Ayres. I am sure she will ditch Ella and sign you up in a heartbeat ’cos we all know who her first preference has always been!”

Marianne looked hurt, but I didn’t have time to care about her feelings. I put my hand on Lexi’s face. She was trembling. Like a little animal.

“Lexi, do you hear me? You have to tell me what happened.”

Lexi looked up at me and blinked.

“He came in here. I gave him a hug.”

“Who? Who came in here?”

Lexi couldn’t say the words. She opened her mouth, then she closed it again.

“I gave him a hug. All I did was give him a hug!”

It was then that I realised I was wrong in thinking that I knew who the monsters were. Maybe each of us, in turn, is a monster to someone else.

“You have a blood nose,” says Dr Fadden. He pulls a hanky from his pocket.

I touch my nostril. I recoil at the sight and close my hand over my nose. Great, I’ve moved beyond tears and now it’s blood. I wonder if something is haemorrhaging inside my head.

Neil said that there’s a time to keep it in and a time to let it out: if you let it sit too long inside, it’ll turn into poison.

“
That
is my story,” I spit out. My throat feels so dry. “Now you keep your side of the bargain. I want to see Lexi.”

I blamed Marianne’s Art class friends for giving Lexi the drink, but the ugly truth was, it was me who had made the punch in the first place. One half Marianne’s tin of fruit salad and one half Jane Mutton’s bottle of vodka. We were all one part guilty, but none more so than me.

Lexi was prepared to talk only to me.
Alone.
I don’t think Marianne will ever get over that.

She said that she started to feel funny as soon as she went off with Ronnie Wood. You know, during that grand moment
when I sold her out. She held it inside because she wanted to be social and she was so scared that she would vomit on Ronnie.

After she went upstairs she fell asleep. She didn’t know how long she’d been out until she heard water running on the other side of the wall. The water stopped and she heard someone come into the room.

Aardant had a ball of toilet paper pressed against his nose. Lexi sat up on the bed and Aardant asked if he could sit next to her. Lexi said he could. She heard the bedsprings creak under him because he was tall and muscular. And sexy, almost.

They talked for a little while. Lexi asked what happened to his nose and he asked her what was wrong with her. She said she thought she had the flu or something. She crossed her legs and tried to look pretty. Because you just never knew, maybe tonight some white-knight was going to dump his snotty girlfriend and throw you over his shoulder.

Lexi swore she didn’t do anything after that. All she did was give him a hug.

Aardant stood up and undid his belt. Lexi tried to fight him off, but Aardant is a jock. Lexi does yoga, but she doesn’t have the experience of knocking the crap out of a dozen other beefcakes on an oval. Afterwards he pulled his pants back up and left. Just like that.

They’ve taken her to St Christina’s Hospital. I’m glad. John Thompson was in a car accident once and he went to the public hospital in Middlemoore. He had to share a ward with a crazy old man who kept trying to get out of his own bed and into John’s. They didn’t believe him until the old man pulled his catheter out. There was a lot of blood on the linoleum floor. They believed him then.

Lexi has a room all to herself. It looks like a hotel room. There are so many flowers. That surprised me. I thought everyone had already dissed us; that they were just waiting for the news to tell them we’d been locked up for life. Then I remember it is not
us.
It’s Lexi the flowers are for. They care about her. They never said anything about me.

“Go on,” says Dr Fadden and he ushers me into the room. I see him nod to the nurse at the door. Then he steps back outside. The nurse looks at me full of suspicion. Maybe she’s seen me on the news and is wondering where she recognises my face. Is it legal to put the faces of sixteen-year-olds on the TV and in the papers? I mean, aren’t I a child that needs to be protected from predators?

I walk up to Lexi’s hospital bed. She’s hooked up to some sort of breathing machine that sounds like it’s trying to suffocate her instead. There is a tube coming out of her arm that travels up to a bag of clear fluid. Her wrists are bandaged in white. She looks so terrible I have to look away.

What did I do to you?
I want to scream. But I keep it on the inside.

Above Lexi’s head hangs an icon of a saint. It must be Christina the Astonishing, the patron of this hospital. “Astonishing” because she died and then at her funeral, she woke and rose up to the rafters of the Church. Christina’s mouth is grimacing, her eyes rolled upward. Her hands are tied together with rope, but she looks like she is praying. I look away. My hands are still bound with the metal cuffs. I feel broken and ashamed at the same time.

“It’s my fault Lexi. Just look at you.” I brush away a strand of hair on her forehead.

I wonder where Lexi is right now. Is she in a happier place? Maybe somewhere inside her head it is Saturday and she’s shopping at that new bead shop on the Strip. Picking out crystals so she can make earrings to match her pink ball dress. Maybe she’s floating somewhere on the ceiling right now. Looking down at her lifeless body and wondering whether to leave. I hope she sees me and knows I say
hold on.

“Can I ask Marianne to come in now?” I asked Lexi.

She was still huddled in the corner of Jane Mutton’s bedroom. She had been there all night. I had slept, or tried to sleep, beside her. Marianne, on the other hand, had spent the night pacing up and down the corridor until Jane told her to cut it out because she was wearing down their expensive carpet. When I went outside in the morning, Marianne squeezed the truth out of me.

Lexi nodded.

“Okay,” she said.

Fury wrote itself like a scarlet humiliation on Marianne’s face, among the smudged lipstick and mascara. She didn’t want to look at me. She bowed her head and knelt down beside Lexi.

“We are going to do everything we can to help you, you hear that?” Marianne was speaking really slowly and loudly, as if Lexi’s “accident” involved brain damage.

Lexi shook her head.

“What is there to help?” she replied. “It’s already happened.”

“Aardant’s going to get his ass caned and then some. I’m going to make sure that he doesn’t get away with this.”

“How exactly are you going to do that?” asked Lexi. She bit the edge of her thumbnail. A piece of black polish peeled off.

Marianne was not prepared for the question. I wanted to blame Marianne for stuffing it all up at that moment. That would have made it easier.

Lexi watched her stumble on her words and I saw her trust in Marianne bellyflop too.

“We’ll go to the police,” blurted Marianne.

“No,” said Lexi. “I want to go home.”

Marianne lifted her eyes and met mine. This was the first that Lexi had said about wanting to move from her corner.

“We’ll help lift you up,” I said to Lexi.

“No,” she replied. “I’m not an invalid, Eliza.”

Marianne and I stepped aside. Slowly, Lexi pulled herself off the ground. She was as fragile as a newly hatched bird.

“Take me home,” she ordered.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom and freshen up first?” asked Marianne. “Brush your hair, wash your face?”

“No, I don’t want to
freshen up.
I just want to go home,” replied Lexi angrily.

Marianne’s face puffed up and she pulled me roughly to the side.

“We need to get her to the hospital or something,” she whispered viciously into my ear. “So they can … do those tests and swabs and things. For proof. Like on
Forensic Crime Scenes
on TV…”

I looked over my shoulder at Lexi. She was standing with her arms wrapped around her body. In her jeans and her thin spaghetti-strap top. And here was Marianne talking about tests and swabs. I thought about how we couldn’t move Lexi last night. How were we supposed to drag her to the hospital?

I imagined Lexi lying on a cold examining table being prodded and poked by some faceless doctor in a surgical mask. I looked at Lexi again. She suddenly appeared so small, so weak, and I knew I couldn’t do it to her.

“Let her go,” I said. “She just needs to have a shower, eat a decent meal and then maybe she’ll be well enough to deal with this.”

“No!” snapped Marianne. “She can’t take a shower. That’s going to wash away all the evidence, don’t you watch
Forensic Crime Scenes
—”

“Marianne!” I butted in. “Do you remember what I said to you yesterday about where your place is? We’re taking Lexi home. End of story.”

Marianne looked at me like she had just swallowed a pill of contempt the size of a watermelon. Then without a word she turned and marched back to Lexi.

“Honey, we’re going. Do you want me to organise someone to come and pick you up?”

“No,” said Lexi. “I’m fine. I can walk. I
have
two legs.”

I heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Then of doors banging, a woman’s voice shouting and a man’s voice answering just as angrily back. Jane Mutton’s parents were home from the counselling retreat. Must have gone real well by the sound of it.

“I need the lot of you to clear out right now.” Jane stood in the doorway with an apron and rubber gloves on. “You’re the last of the trash I need to take out.”

“Thanks for letting us stay last night,” I said and pursed my lips just in case I accidentally used the word “grateful”.

“Make sure you use the back door and don’t you dare let anyone see you,” replied Jane coldly. She snapped a glove off and disappeared. But not before I caught what looked like concern tip the edges of her mouth.

Maybe we should have done what Marianne said. We could have convinced Lexi to go to the hospital and in some miraculous turn of events, she would have agreed it was for the best. Some really understanding Mary Sue doctor would do the rape kit, which would be analysed by some nerdy, heart-of-gold lab technician who’d match the DNA to Aardant. Then the cops, led by some really hunky detective, would go and kick down a door and nab Aardant just as he’s about to commit the same act with another innocent victim.

Yeah, that might have been the story. Just like an episode of Marianne’s favourite Thursday night cop show. If I hadn’t made the decision to let Lexi go home and wash away the evidence, it could have been perfect.

Outside, Dr Fadden is leaning against the white corridor wall, talking to a young, attractive nurse. The nurse doodles something absentmindedly on her clipboard. Dr Fadden excuses himself when he sees me.

“Stop chatting up the nurses—you’re not a real doctor you know.”

I swear that for a second he looks hurt.

“Tired?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Peckish?”

I shake my head again. But I realise I am. I didn’t finish my double cheeseburger. It is a sick type of hunger.

Dr Fadden reaches into his coat and pulls out a plastic packet.

“I got this from the vending machine,” he says and tears the top off. “While you were in there with Alexandria. How is she, by the way?”

“Asleep,” I reply sarcastically.

“In case it interests you,” he says, undaunted, “I served a stint in here years ago. All the patients used to walk the hallways in their pyjamas just like
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
Considering the quality of the hospital food, I think the vending machine kept me alive. Here, hold out your hand.”

I hold out both my hands. Not that I could choose. They
are
bloody chained together.

“Some for each hand. So that they don’t fight. Like my mother used to say. Now let’s go.”

I have never heard anyone say that before. Maybe it’s just Dr Fadden’s mother. The fact that he even has a mother seems strange to me. He is so stiff and formal, I’d just assumed he’d exploded out of a rock one day as a fully-fledged bachelor.

I find myself standing there with both hands full of Skittles, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to eat them. It makes me smile. Oh well. We are in the mental ward after all. They have put Lexi, the most normal out of all of us, here. I wonder where that leaves me.

We went to see Lexi after school on Monday.

“So how did it feel?” I asked her and I blushed because I knew I was asking the question wrong.
Again.
It felt like we were having a casual conversation about losing virginities. Oh God, maybe we were, but I never thought it would be like this.

“How did you feel?” I corrected myself. It didn’t feel any less awkward.

Lexi didn’t flinch. “I don’t really remember,” she replied. “You know, it’s funny. After I knew what was going to happen, something inside of me just accepted it. I didn’t even have to figure it out. It figured it out for me.”

I nodded, but I didn’t understand.

“You know what I thought about? I thought about how thankful I was to already have a dress for the ball. My beautiful pink half-dress made exclusively for me by Mrs Dashwood. Can you believe it? During a time like that. I thought about how I hadn’t yet chosen my shoes and handbag, and that I should do that if I got out of this.”

“Lexi,” I said and I swallowed. “We’re going to sort this whole thing out. We’re going to take care of you. You will go to the ball and you will look beautiful. I promise.”

“Will I?” replied Lexi. She looked down at her palms and then right through me. “Maybe the old me. Not this me. I don’t think so. Listen to this, Lizzie—after I went home yesterday, I went to the fridge and I gorged myself on Black Forest cake. I felt so disgusted I threw the rest of the cake,
box and all, into the bin. I tried to leave the kitchen, but I couldn’t. I was still starving. So I ended up on the floor eating cake from the bin. Isn’t that the most disgusting thing you’ve ever heard? My diet is ruined now. I won’t look good in that dress, ever.”

“Oh babe,” I whispered and I wrapped my arms around her. She did not hold me back. It felt like she was made from the bones of a little bird.

“What are we going to do?” I whispered to Marianne as we both stood cross-armed outside Lexi’s bedroom door.

I could tell by the look on her face that Marianne was going to bring up that thing about the police and hospital again.

“We’re not taking her to the police,” I said before she had a chance to speak. “She’s not well. She’s telling me weird stuff—she said she ate cake out of a bin, for godsake.”

I pressed my fist hard onto my heart as I spoke. Maybe I wish I could rip it out, so it would stop reminding me I was still alive. I could still feel his postcard there, and I ached.

“Then I don’t know what to say,” replied Marianne. “She doesn’t even want to talk to me.”

I could see the blue eyeliner from Saturday night still stuck in the corners of Marianne’s eyes. Her white school blouse was creased and there was something that looked like a food stain on the front.

“No police. Right now she won’t properly open up to me,
and like you said, she doesn’t even want to talk to you! How is she going to say anything in front of a complete stranger?”

“I don’t know,” repeated Marianne.

“Mari—help me here!”

“No!” Marianne stopped and composed herself. “Well you didn’t want my help Saturday, did you?”