Four
My mum and dad would stay in Louca for one more night. They couldn't stay for long because they had to go to London later for a conference. I was happy that they were leaving so they would leave our Christmas alone.
I chose a red dress for the farewell dinner. Harry was sitting on my bed reading a cook book. It was Anne and Max's turn to pick up my mum and dad from the hotel they were staying. We threw the coin, I chose tail and Max chose head. I cheated and he lost.
The past days were so strange. I didn't know how it was possible since there was enough oxygen in the flat, but everyone was suffocating, one way or another. Max had paid too much, and he didn't have to buy those really expensive wines the other night. Then Anne told me that Harry helped paying too. I'd always thought Anne and Harry wouldn't get along, they didn't speak much to each other.
Harry was reading and I didn't know what to say to him. So I lay on the floor and gazed at my sky. He looked different these days. He didn't wear his usual plain clothes. He wore shirts when he came over, and his hair stood like skyscrapers.
"Minnie? What are you doing?" I saw Harry's face on the edge of the bed. "You're, like, your dress. It matches your hair though it is messy - wait you just haven't combed it yet. I mean, the hair is fine, and the dress too."
"Thank you Harry," I said. I closed my eyes and I dreamt of a blue Christmas with huge pirate ships. Harry said something about the book he was reading. It was about some pumpkin pies American made during November. I nodded and said and agreed something.
Harry was sitting on the floor near me now. His hand was stroking my forehead.
"The floor is freezing," Harry said. "Don't you think it's cold? I can sit on the floor if you want, just get back to your bed."
"No," I said. "Turn on the radiator if you want. I like cold."
"I can't leave you here lying," Harry said. I felt warmth next to me. It was annoying so I opened my eyes. Harry lay on the floor next to me, and he grinned at me from the side.
"It's better now," I lied. I kissed his cheek. I closed my eyes again. I didn't want to look at the ceiling with Harry together. "I know you don't want to be here. I am sorry that you have to come and suffer with me."
"I want to come," Harry said. "I know I want to be part of your life. If you want to be part of someone's life, you've got to put effort on it, or they'll have every right to ignore you."
"No one should ignore anyone, putting effort or not." I told him.
"It doesn't work like this. But you're a girl, maybe it works this way for you," I heard Harry, and felt his fingers dancing on my hand.
"People have ignored you before?" I asked.
"They didn't like me. It's alright, no one in their right mind would like Twatty Harry," Harry said. "But secondary school was better because I got into a fight and I won. People didn't say horrible things to me then. And I am free now. And there were some nice people in the reading club, people who can't speak well, like me."
"You speak amazingly," I said. "With my parents."
"They're nice people," Harry said.
"Thank you for lying to make me feel better," I kissed Harry again. I felt him burying his head in the arc of my neck. His breathing was melodic, but I didn't want him near me.
"Don't worry, it's their last night staying," Harry mumbled softly. "Nothing can go wrong tonight, it's like the weather report, everything is planned and prepared. Like, you have a pretty dress, and Max ironed his shirt - I ironed it actually, and I made the food. Brilliant food. And we were great for the past few days, and they're your parents. They don't judge, I don't think they would judge you or anything."
"I don't worry," I said, "probably except for Max. Usually just people worry stuff, hovering around me. I just feel bad about things."
"Oh," Harry said. "We should go somewhere. Later. Away. You like the Emma Lake. Don said every girl likes a lake with trees around, and my mum said that would be romantic. You like romantic things, right?"
"You've never said what you want to do with me," I said.
"We go to somewhere, visit places, and we get back to town before night. Forest is nasty at night," Harry said. "We go during Christmas."
"Okay."
"What is the scarred thing about?" Harry asked. "Do you remember, you know, when your mother said -"
"I do remember," I said, I turned to look at Harry, staring right into his eyes. I had to ask him something important. "Do you think I am like an angel? Max and somebody else do."
Harry replied quicker than I thought he would.
"I love you," he said. And I realised Harry was just an easy person, and I realised he didn't know me. Harry only knew the stage Minnie who everybody, Max, my parents and Jennifer and school, desperately needed, while the people who saw through me were miles away. Miles, worlds away. I became very sad.
I nodded and I kissed him. His hands were on my face, and on my body, and I saw him closing his eyes. He kissed my lips, my jaw and my neck. I didn't stop him. I only hoped he didn't mean anything he said, I never did.
People usually hate female characters from fictions like me, don't they? Selfish. Lame. Shallow. Thinking she could get anything. The world - ruled it like it is hers. Manipulate and lie because she can. Steal and break things. A destroyer. I hated myself then.
The door bell rang and Harry shot up from the floor quickly. He closed his eyes and breathed before walking out of the room. I sat up, straightened my clothes. I smiled before Harry opened the door. It was important for him.
My mother was wearing something disgustingly in red. Dad nodded at us as he came into the house. Harry hanged the coats. I returned to my room and changed into pink pyjama. Anne frowned at my clothes, but I started putting out the food from the kitchen so nobody said anything else.
"Anne is going to perform in an open square after the new year," Max tried to get everyone to speak after we settled around the table, and Max smiled as the Max I remembered when I bought him his first pack of cigarette. "It's something called Waiting for Godot."
"Yes, we have been rehearsing almost every day," Anne said with a light smile.
Mum slowly put a piece of meat into her mouth, "well, just let me know if you're ready for the papers to know you. I know the ways and just dial my office number. It won't be nice of our family to not pave your way in the industry while we can. We know people and we know exactly what you need. I know you need nicer hair firstly. And oh dear, you need to lose some weight. I am honest. Girls with your height -"
"She's great," Max said, Max's face went dark, "mum. She's just great. And she's more interested in stuff like traditional English drama, acting on stage with script and all that. She's not like the people you work with."
"Our girls are not prostitutes or whores if this is what you're suggesting," dad said, putting the roast potato into his greasy mouth. "Unlike some, they are women with good ambition."
"Not some Shakespearean girl with fantasy drama dreams," mum added steadily like it was a business conference.
Max put down his glass of water harder than he needed to. The table shook slightly and Harry glared at him. I kicked Max's leg under the table to warn him. It was a losing war.
"I thought we are old enough to stop kicking each other under the table," mum put down her spoon and looked at me. "That is my leg, Minnie."
I didn't speak, and when we ate, I thought of eating Japanese food in Japan, where everybody looked very polite. Harry introduced the dessert. It was Strawberry Soufflés. They were in baby pink.
"This smells so good," Anne said. Anne didn't care what my parents said. That was one of those amazing things about her, apart from her hair. It was wavy today. On the first day, she was concerned about my parents' opinion on her. The next day, she told me that no one could live up to everybody's standard. She said her name was Anne not Robot Girlfriend Number 1. I laughed.
"I've been practising it for days, in my spare time," Harry said. "I hope you'll like it." He talked about how to make them so smoothly that there wasn't any "likes" and "maybes" and "ohs".
No one denied the fact that they liked the dessert. Harry said thank you for three times with his ears going red. That made his night.
Someone was yelling. A King Kong seemed to be urging to break down the door outside. I hoped it was a less hairy rescuer and he would ask me to go abroad with him. I would want to but I wouldn't say yes. I loved Max enough to not let him stay alone with my parents. I liked Harry enough to not to ruin his night.
"It's probably the neighbour," Max said quickly. He opened the door. I heard the man's voice before seeing his face.
"Good morning, having a nice one? Well hell yeah I am. A fabulous one in fact," Don said in a hyper voice, "how are you? I am very fine thank you. I am looking for - ah there you are. Miss Minnie Daze."
Don was standing at the door. He was taller than Max, waving at me like a high hippo. He had been drinking and I liked that reddish face, and the jean jacket too. There was snow on his shoulders. Everything fitted him perfectly. It was a comforting reunion. Only nobody was pleased about it.
Don smiled like a Cheshire Cat. I was ready to laugh and smile in return when I saw the faces of everybody else. Christmas hadn't arrived yet, but the house was already lit by different colours - red and purple and pale faces.
"How is every person?" Don asked. I didn't smile then. They weren't happy, so I had to learn to hate Don.
And I remembered how Tommy met my parents. I should have introduced him as my boyfriend properly. We had been drinking in my house that day, a cool summer day. Max had passed out with the drinks, and Tommy and I were done tickling his face with the television remote. We lay with our drinks on mum's carpet, she bought it from India and so it was exceptionally comfortable. We heard the turning of locks, but still talking about how trees aged. Mum screamed then, and dad wanted a gun. That was the first time I left Max alone. Tommy and I ran out, ran to the graveyard. We had laughed so hard that day.
I heard my mum gasped, and I smelled things. Don was puking right outside the door. The Strawberry Soufflés didn't cover the stink.
Don puked some more and Harry pushed the table so hard that the Strawberry Soufflés fell on the floor. I saw the dessert cup breaking, it scattered into pinkish pieces.
"Wait Harry what - no - no!" I heard Max yelled and I saw Harry had his fist in the air. He punched Don in the stomach. Max grabbed Harry's shoulders and mum screamed. I had to get out or I would scream to. I would scream to be exploded.
I grabbed my coat and I tugged Don out of the house, for he deserved all the hatred in the world unfortunately including mine. That was Harry's night!
I closed the door and I heard Harry was still pounding it. Don was singing. The neighbours popped their thick heads out. Don was singing louder. It sounded like the cracking of cars. I dumped him onto the lightly snowed bench next to the entrance gate.
Don smiled and clapped his hands together. He picked out the dying little flower from the brushes. There was a sign that said "DO NOT PICK FLOWERS" right next to him. He stroked the flower. I hoped it died.
I loathed him though I wanted to sit next to him and wait until the chaos ended before going back. I breathed harder. We were so close to getting rid of my parents, and this creature sitting here happened.
I was raged, and I had to get myself distracted. I looked. It was beautiful how the night was presented with yellowish light from the streetlamps. What a white and cold planet. I put my hands in my pockets and tried to behave.
I sat down next to him. A van went past before me. I swore loudly.
"Minnie's hair looks nice in pony," Don sang, "Yes, Minnie Pony. Pony Minnie."
"What the fuck are you doing here" I asked, patting his face so he would look at me.
"Here I am, yes indeed, here I am" Don smiled dreamily, his breath stank, "don't swear. You're not attractive when you swear. You are, however, the most attractive person when you're talking about your random stuff. Sounding like you are from somewhere else."
"I am from here, this Planet Earth, and I will kill you," I whispered hotly. "You ruined everything. All those times Max and I put up with it. You came in and you broke Harry's heart! You broke his fucking heart! You should go!"
Don looked at me blankly. My shaky hands were reaching for knifes in my pocket, or even fire lighter so his face would burn. I wished I had will power that could electrify things, and Don would be like a murderer on a electric chair.
He looked so Tommy. That broke my fucking heart too.
I found things in my pocket, and I threw them at him. Eyeliner. Thud. Dirty tissue papers that I hoped would kill. Thud. My cell phone, which I hoped would break his head into half. Thum. And my pockets were empty. Me too.
No more traffic noise, because things knew they should shut up when I was shouting. I was hating him, and I was good at it. For the first time I had arrived Louca, I was good at something.
His lips were red, and there was purple bruise on his right cheek. I wanted to touch it, but I slapped him. That hurt me because I knew I didn't have to. But how could I let the false Tommy look at me like this? This was - how should I put it - was unholy!
When I heard the traffics again, I knew I had stopped the shouting. I looked horrible, like a witch from some mountain, I knew. Don raised his hand, he was going to hit me, and I would let him for I had hit him first.
I looked at his hand and waited for the pain. It was soft. A gentle touch traced across my eyes. It was cold in the street, Don's hand stayed on my cheek. It was a tender and dangerous kind of pain. It was the most angst kind of pain given by a ghost.
"Your makeup is smudgy," Don said quietly. "Don't cry."
"I am not crying," I said. "Don't look at me. You don't know me, and I don't know you as well. Max and I are trying to tell them that we're not the same and you made them think otherwise. I said don't look at me."
I pushed his hand away, and I wanted to weep in a corner.
"Stop faking it," Don said tiredly, "I fake too. Everybody does. Everybody can fake, not you. Stop trying to sound mean. Here -" Don touched my temple, "you're like five, a good five-year-old. I don't like Harry, but I like you."
His grey eyes glistened with sorrow. He was drunk, that fact seemed to be shipping away from me. They, the eyes, were so watery that I wanted to hug him so he could break down and cry. Don grinned heartedly, stroking my hair. Then I realised the incredibly light weight of it.
He put that pretty white flower into my hair.
"I think you're beautiful," Don breathed.
I felt razed. Tommy called me that too, and Don was doing this to me.
It was like you have been running in the rain for five hundred years and you find your first brolly. The brolly has dung on the outside but if you would just look up inside, you'd find white foxes and little penguins on the pretty canopy. Then canopy folds itself and the brolly is gone. You stand there and the rain becomes snow, and you cannot move, frozen. Now you've found your second brolly and there are flowers in the inside and outside. So different but similar. And that fucks you up.
I detested Don, and I didn't have to learn how to do that.
I didn't want another brolly. It would fold itself sooner or later. The rain didn't hurt much since my first brolly had done enough damage to make me crawl on the muddy ground. So there was only one way - one way - to keep my head safe. I would keep walking in the rain, and I wouldn't pick up any brolly no matter how many flowers and butterflies and goldfish there were on the surface, or inside.
I wanted to go out and let a van crush me. There was no van. I was guilty.
"I love you," I heard Tommy said in my brain over and over. Tommy had said that to me, and we started kissing in his house. I remembered. Mrs Knit went to the supermarket. He kept repeating the three words when he undressed me. "Do you want this?" He had asked before kissing me again.
"I really do love you and I can't want anything else. You're in my head, and that sounds so cheesy," Tommy grinned. "But listen, nothing matters to me. I don't care if Max beats me up later, and you'll always be the thing I want. You, and Max and me, and forever - cheesier now. "
The next thing I remembered was he pressing on me nicely. That was a beautiful afternoon. That Tommy had been my universe. I had loved so much, and I missed how a boy became the only gravity that you'd know.
"Minnie?" Don called and I saw his face again.
I stood up. Mascara stung my eyes. This had to stop. I breathed. I saw Harry appeared at the entrance. He didn't speak and hugged me tightly. I saw the chalky flower fell off my hair. It lay on the snow and it stayed there. I let Harry's strawberry scent consume me.
"Bring him home please?"
Harry nodded.
"Don't hurt him please?"
Harry nodded again, dully, and he turned around. Harry grabbed Don's shoulders and pulled him to his feet rudely. I thought he was breaking Don's bones. I walked past the entrance gate.
"Harry?" I said as Harry's eyes gazed at mine. "I love those soufflés, and I think you should make them again next time when you come to my house."
Harry smiled a little. I left the flower and found the door of my house opened. The vomit was mopped but the smell stayed.
Anne was facing the sink. Mum and dad were on the couch and Max stood before them.
"Yes, we took the money but we left a note. I am-m, yes, I am going to pay them back to you later. And NO thank you, we don't need your money," Max said, waving his hands in the air.
I went into the house.
Mum crinkled at the sight of me, "Moving away didn't change your dating habit," she said, "and you're apparently -"
I closed the door.
"She has changed. She's smart enough to choose who she wants to go out with." Max had a loud voice, I realised. "Haven't you noticed, aside from your comments, how we've been changing that we're actually becoming better people? Would you stop judging us by what happened? We've been foolish once and I can handle this. I'm going to take care of Minnie, pay the bills on time and have my job done! And I am going to support her to go to university if she wants to, okay? It hasn't been your problem for a long time. Just go back to your world with cameras!"
Don't cry, I told myself.
Mum snorted, "I doubt if you can handle this any longer. You're running out of money son. I saw your bank account yesterday, son. I am utterly," she looked at us, " ashamed."
Max opened his mouth but no words came out for a moment.
"Don't call him your son if you don't want to," a bored voice said.
"I beg your pardon young lady?" Dad raised his eyebrow at the back of Anne, who turned around with hands drying the plates with a towel.
"I said don't call Max your son if you don't want to. If you feel ashamed of him, don't call him your son. As simple as that," Anne put down the plate and picked up a mug from the sink. She shrugged.
"Give me five minutes and let's hear a funny story. Anne's mum raised Anne on her own when she was sixteen. The dad was gone and hopefully died. Anne's mum had never been ashamed of her daughter when her classmates called the little baby a bastard. Anne's mum called her daughter 'my lovely sweet little candy' when she died of breast cancer when Anne was sixteen. See? She wasn't ashamed of Anne for her entire life and surely Max is nowhere close to being a bastard - why would you be ashamed of him?" Anne said indifferently. " One more thing, Max is the second most hard working person I'd ever seen. No doubt the first was my mum."
I wanted to clap. It was a lovely story. But nobody spoke so I reckoned I shouldn't move right now.
"You judged him the moment you arrived, like how you judged and disliked the entire population in this place. I don't mind if you don't like me, I am not born to entertain you. But you look down on Max. Max pours his heart out in everything he does," Anne said, she put the back the mug on the shelf and picked up the damp spoons with the towel. Max was rubbing his eyes for several times.
"You have no hope or faith on your son - Jennifer, that wheelchair lady who you badly despise because her disability to move and her capability to care, loves Max like he's her own son though she makes him sing in the church. Now I understand why Max left, you have no ability to love - you're worse than Jean - Baptise Grenouille," Anne said.
"Is that from Shakespeare, hon?" Max said, "We're running out of money but I will find a night job too so -"
"And I will help too even if that means no more my favourite cookies," Anne said.
"I wouldn't mind that," I saw Max mouthed silently. I supposed he was trying to stop himself from crying by cracking not funny jokes.
"Max," dad said and I wished he wouldn't. "We've seen girls like that for years. You remember them knocking your door for a kiss and a hug? In the end, what do they want? Get to know us so we'll find them a job in the industry! So wake up!"
"You chucked us out right after I got home from the hospital. It was raining that day and you lost a deal with a makeup company, "I reminded them quietly, it was crazy how many things I'd remembered in one night. "You told me not to come home again and you threw all my stuff out through the window. Even the electric piano - oh, I gave it to a homeless woman by the way. Then you chucked Max out. We slept outside a park, and you told people we were stray kids who ran away from home."
"It was a lesson," mum's voice was calm.
"You were only scared if people would start talking about us, about you. They wondered how the top people in town would have daughter and son like us. We're the 'Daze's humiliation', remember? No second chance should be given to losers, you said that," Max walked to the door and opened it. "No more ballet, piano, jazz and photography. Dad you can take that Canon back, I haven't sold it. It's under my bed in a New Balance shoebox. And I think your visit ends here. Mum and dad. Merry Christmas."
"Very well, " Mum snorted again before picking up her coat, "I shall see how long it takes for you to come home and beg for money. We would have a good laugh by then."
"Merry Christmas," dad grumbled and they left the house. The door was closed.
"I," Max and I looked at Anne, who smiled shyly, "I suddenly feel like eating ice cream. How about I go and buy us some?"
"Yeah," Max beamed at her only, his eyes were redder than ever. "That sounds brilliant."
"You two can catch up and celebrate your victory," Anne put on her cotton hat, "I'll be back soon."
I hugged Anne before she left.
"You should marry her. Please marry her," I said to Max, who laughed with difficulties.
"Yeah, what a night," Max said.
"I am sorry I ruined it, tonight," I said. "I let a guy like that came in and -"
"Harry was the angry one, frankly. But that lad looks like Tommy!"
"I don't like him, not a bit," I said.
"Bloody hell, you've no idea what was in my head just now. She just said all those things in their face - Anne is - I was just in a massive shock! Wait! I think I have some discount cards for ice cream - Jennifer gave me! I am going to the supermarket now. What flavour do you want?"
"Strawberry," I said. "By the way, Jean - Baptise Grenouille is not from Shakespeare, it's from Perfume. You've watched it with Anne last week with my laptop."
Max put his hand over his head and sighed deeply. "Oh no, I fell asleep half of the film. Anyway I will come back soon. Thanks." Max put on more clothes and counted the discount cards from his wallet.
Max said to me, "Minnie. I'm not sure if you've forgotten, but I remember I've said, when we were younger, that it'll be, like, us against the world." With an awkward chuckle and a bright smile, Max left the house. I heard him rushing down the stairs quickly. I looked at the white daisies in the water bottle, they were dying.
I looked at the window and saw myself. With my coat on, I was naked I realised.