Eight
We walked deeper in the woods, and what kind of abnormal friend would live in a forest? Harry walked ahead of me silently, he always looked back to see if I could follow. Eventually I couldn't keep up and he pulled my hand.
I stared at the little house in front of us. It was a small cottage with red sheathing on the top. There was something black on the top that I later realised were solar panels, and there was a long green pipe. The windows were dusty and one of them was broken with closed curtains inside. I saw a face of an old man being painted by chalk on a wall. Apart from that wall, the cottage with covered with new orange paint. That was where he had wanted to paint.
Harry pulled down something of a wooden rod on the side and solar panels rose, snow slid down.
"Did you draw that?" I asked, pointing at the painting.
"Yeah, when I was six, I think," Harry said.
I knocked the door, and I felt very stupid doing that.
"No one's inside," Harry said, "Here."
Harry showed me a key and he opened the door. It was a murk room until Harry went in and pulled up the curtains. The floor made a scary cracking sound as I stepped inside.
The sofa was old fashion and bitten. There were photos on the wall. There was an empty book shelf next to a fireplace. The burnt coals inside were greyish. There was this armchair. It was all spooky.
"My dad built the solar panels," Harry said. There were no sight of any unwanted nervousness or awkwardness tottering on his face. He looked almost comfortable.
"That must be a tough task," I said. Harry pulled up more curtains so more winter light entered the room. "Why are the photo frames broken?"
"I punched them, accidentally," Harry muttered. "I didn't mean to but sometimes I got angry and I was a jerk."
Harry opened a drawer next to the window, and took out a piece of blanket. He put it on the floor front of the fireplace. I sat down.
"Why don't you ask who lived here?" Harry asked.
"I'm sure you'll tell me."
Harry went into the other room, the only room actually. He came back with an iron cylinder box with many craft of stars and a lighter. He lit the candle inside. Stars were projected onto the walls with the disgusting fire dancing on the candle. I sat as far away from it as possible.
"We can see it better with the curtain closed," Harry said.
"No," I said quickly, "I don't like dark places. Sit with me, Harry."
He sat down, "don't you like it?"
"It's quite nice," I whispered, watching the breathtaking shapes of tiny and large stars on the fireplace. I felt like being away, I liked being away.
"I've got lots of it in the room," Harry said. "But I thought you'd like this one best."
"You always come here?"
"Used to," Harry nodded, I leaned closer to him. "When I was scared, mostly. Like he'd be here, like it's the only way being able to talk to him."
"Your dad?"
"Granddad," Harry looked around. "He lived here. He still insisted to live here even after he found out about his tumour. I thought he was brave, but now I know he was only stupid. He died here - he wanted to, I suppose. I found him two days after he stopped breathing. Mum was," Harry licked his lips and he didn't speak for a while. Somehow, it didn't feel like a haunted place.
"She was busy that morning, and she asked me to stay in the house. Something wrong with the pot orders. I, um. I thought I'd do some reading, but I missed granddad. I sneaked out," Harry said softly, "I was really scared that day if the police would arrest me for being alone in the street. I was nine. I tried so very hard to remember the road to here, I am good with directions."
Harry put my hand on his and he stroked my fingers, he went on. "He was sitting right there," He glanced at the armchair. "You can try to picture his face. Really thin and pale. There was a metal in his hands. It was his dad's, got it after the Second World War. We buried the metal next to him later. I called him name," Harry said. "I called him for so long and he wouldn't move. I was so stupid and I thought he fell asleep! I ran back to the town two hours later."
"Hey," I whispered.
"He was all I had," Harry said. "I can't ... connect to mum. She's always in the house and with me but she doesn't want - I mean, she's not really with me sometimes. Exactly like you - listen and not tell me anything."
"I'm sorry."
"Granddad was the only man I knew," Harry said. "He always talked about my dad."
"Where's he?"
"Up there I hope," Harry said."He died when I was little. It was a car crash and he shielded my mum," Harry moved the iron box closer. I tried not to flinch for Harry's sake. It was a serious moment for him. "Granddad called him Kevy all the time. His name was Kevin Wonder."
"How old were you?"
"Almost five."
I realised it was the first time he talked about his father. How Harry thought of me became a great deal suddenly.
It hadn't been my business whether Harry had a dad before. I was selfish and self - centred - there was no denial here. I thought of those time chasing after Don for ridiculous reasons and I detested myself when Harry kissed my cheek.
"It must be difficult," was all I could say.
"Worse," Harry's tone was lifeless. "Looking at his photos is fine. Just like how you read books. But knowing that he's here - to watch me to, like - grow and graduate or shout at me - it sucks. I am not going at describing things -"
"You're awesome today."
" - but it's hard to remember that he's been in my life."
I sat between Harry's legs, putting his arms around me. I felt him dropping his head on my shoulder. I let him hold me and kiss me.
"I really like you," he muttered, "I'd beat up someone for you if I have to. You look so tough and strong and that's what I want to be. So I have to stick with you."
A dark shadow hanged around me when Harry told me he loved me. The shadow grew. I was a poison in Harry's life.
"I was hurt by Max's friend, and that's why I can't trust his friends. Any of his friends," I made it up. It felt more like a completed story than how the truth sounded.
"This place can be our escape, you know. If you're scared or you want to be alone," Harry said.
I smiled at him, and I sincerely meant it this time.
Christmas passed sooner than I had expected. Harry liked the book I bought him. He gave me a pair of earrings. They were not very pretty but I had been wearing them every time we went out. Max made a low - budgeted Christmas dinner. Sometimes he would bring free food from the hotel back home.
School started after the holiday. The first thing I noticed: Kelly was absent at school. She wasn't anywhere in town either. I had seen her friends though, but I was too scared to approach to them.
The school counsellor who I didn't remember the name left me a note, stating that the school knew about the caution. I told myself to not feel anything.
I was reading Anna Karenina at Jen's. I hadn't liked the book as much as I did now. Though Max didn't work here, I didn't get rid of the habit of reading here. Harry gave me a piece of cheesecake before going back to the kitchen. I was disappointed to hear him stuttering again.
A jean jacket person sat down in front of me.
"I thought you'd be at school," he said in. I loathed the voice.
"Finished classes," I said.
"Why didn't you answer my calls? I called you later that day and I kept calling you afterward. I texted you too."
I shrugged. I didn't feel like understanding the page even after reading it for three times.
"Harry said you received a caution. Did you find that girl - Kitty or Katy?"
"Thank you for caring about it," I beamed at Don.
"I always do," Don said.
"You left," I tried to beam again. "That was quite brilliant actually, the way you just promised and left."
Don shut up and he looked at the small table. He took my cheesecake and put a bit of it into his mouth.
"You can have it all," I said, pushing the plate forward. "You can have everything else."
"Harry was sitting right there and he'd solve all the problems for you. You seriously needed me there that day? I mean, you hardly spoke to me. I needed to meet someone anyway."
"Then why said you wouldn't leave?" I resumed my reading. "I'm really amazed by your play that day."
"I thought you didn't need me there -"
"I wanted you to be, and you should have known that," I said. The plate was empty now, "You should know that I want - because like," I closed my book. "You said it yourself that you're not Harry, so you should know."
Don leaned forward and his grey eyes were intense. It was interesting to see them fixing so seriously on me. "I'm sorry. Trust me, okay?"
"I'd be a fool."
"I'm not going to leave you again, anyhow," Don put my stray hair behind my ear. All these Romeo movements ignited the ashes inside of me. I longed for Don's touch on my skin. It was difficult to not show it. The effect of this cunning person in front of me was outreaching. I would pass out if he was any closer.
Don broke me in pieces and how did he find a way to put me back together? How did he become the magician while I became, not even a magician assistant, but the fucking prop?
"How about you just tell Harry?" Don said, "'cause I'm always thinking about you, Minnie."
I pretended he didn't speak.
"Stop lying to Harry and yourself," Don said again.
I glowered at him for a moment. Don dropped his gaze, I picked up the book again. I just browsed at the many words.
Eventually I stopped. I wanted to pack my bag but Don grabbed one of my hand. My heart was racing and running. Stop, I wanted to shout. I was a sentenced prisoner on Don's electric chair. I needed my head to stop boiling.
"Last time we sat down and talked," Don said, "I saw something on your arms. Show me. It's not a burn mark."
"No," it didn't even sound like a whisper.
"Please?"
Don's eyes were compellingly beautiful, and I couldn't think.
He pulled up the sleeve a bit, just revealing the three pale lines. Don studied them with curious eyes. He took out a marker from his pocket. I didn't pull away.
Don drew a circle on the pale line on my wrist, then another circle and another one inside. There was something like a wormy gum. The tip of the marker tickled me, Don's fingers burnt me.
"There," Don murmured.
My palm was full of sweat. I was shivering.
"What happened?" He asked in a way that I had to answer
"Poker. If I lost, Tommy got to have a cut. I lost all the time and we thought it was fun. It didn't hurt."
"If you won?" The snails Don drew hid all the ugliness.
"I got a kiss," I smiled. I could smell Don's shampoo.
"That's stupid," Don commented.
"I guess you could say that," I nodded.
"What a swine your boyfriend was," Don mumbled. He only looked at my arm. I only looked at him.
"Don't say that."
Don looked up from the drawing, meeting my eyes. I could see every one of his long eyelashes, there were only inches between us. That was all in the world. For a moment he was no longer Tommy and I was just someone with snails on my arm.
"Should I feel sorry now?" Don asked.
I was invincibly lost. Nothing is absolute or certain in illusions, I felt like crawling out of bed for the first time after sleeping for hundreds of years. I was ashamed of what I felt.
Yet I was sure, for this second, about one thing: When this person's lips met mine as tenderly as we were allowed, something quivered in my chest like a little fire on a lighter in a roaring gust of wind. Fire was fading but it brought a strange thought that I should be with Don for the rest of the days.
Don was warm. I craved for him. I kissed him back and I wanted everything of Don, and I heard things fell on the floor behind me. Harry looked at me and there was nothing on his face. A small pie was dispersed into some pieces.
I'd give anything to end my life.
"It was an accident," Don said quickly. "Um, look, Harry. I need to go now. Um, just I'll see the two of you around."
Don left indifferently and I didn't have time to feel. It was very cold, everywhere.
I wished Harry shouted. Harry shook his head, he was shivering and he turned around, hurrying into the kitchen.
I lost my speech despite how I was good at denying things - I would do that now. I was trying to come up with something that made me sound cherry. Just like reading with Don sitting opposite me, my brain was working but not thinking. I was the swine, I was a nobody.
I went into the kitchen. No, Harry was at the storeroom, opening the flour package.
"Hey."
"I'm busy," Harry said hastily. I heard him sniffing.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Yeah."
Harry just poured the flour into a big bowl.
"Say something, I said I'm sorry."
He sniffed again only.
"Do you want to -"
"No," Harry turned around. There was flour on his cheeks as he kept rubbing his eyes. His eyes were red and because of the dim light of the room, I could act as though I didn't see his tears. "I mean, yes, Minnie," he said, "what can I do -"
"Harry I was -"
"I get it - you don't like me. You've never had and I was so thankful that you'd still hang out with me and not laughing at the way I talk. But you," Harry inhaled deeply. He spoke very fast and kept looking at his toes."Of course you'll like Don! Everyone should. He's h-handsome and he can talk and make you laugh and I'm just a piece of s-shit here. I'm sorry f-for wasting your time. Minnie you are a really patient person - I mean, how can I have even hoped you'll l-like me? I was probably just being - I am sorry - I"
"Please, don't say that, I like you -" Harry made me start real crying.
"No, it's okay. You're a nice person and I know that," Harry's face was so red. "I'll, I have to work now. They need some, you know, like, something like pipes."
Harry walked towards the door. The flour bowl fell on the floor. Harry looked at it and he didn't pick up it. He left as though it was a crime scene.
I pulled my hair backward. I held my head high when I left the shop. For the first time, wrong was wrong. There was no maybe or goodness. Don left without feeling anything. Harry was tattered. There was no point disguising myself. I was just stupid and sinister. I walked home with my copy of Anna Karenina. I went into my room and locked it.
I had to stop beautifying my thoughts, to purify them so they wouldn't remind me how I cheated on Harry in a way - and now I knew that those thoughts had been in my head for a long time.
I took out my phone. I deleted Don's number.
I did not think about Harry's weeping face. I forbade myself to think about what Harry would be thinking now. I shut them in a drawer of my head. I looked up at my sky, assuming it was painted by a fairy. What a pretty fairy with orange hair and brown dress. I imagined Tommy on the bed next to me. I imagined being saved.
I started crying, but there - I imagined Tommy holding me.
I just cried.
Ravenous hunger woke me. The room was so dark that there was no face on the window.
I sat on the bed edge. It was dazzling and cold. I tried to walk straight but I tripped on the chair. I got up and I opened the door. My eyes stung like they were branded. I went to the bathroom. The flat was very small, I realised. I was left in Jen's a few hours ago, I remembered.
I looked at the person in the mirror under the yellowish light bulbs. My hair was damp and messy and my nose was red like a raspberry. My eyes were puffy and I looked pale. I deserved how I looked. Ugly. My brain wasn't functioning properly. I went back into my room to wait for dawn. I waited for so long and it didn't come. I couldn't breathe and I thought of water. Lots of it. I remembered the iron slice of something in the bathroom.
I stood in front of the mirror again. I wanted to see Tommy standing next to me. He used to hold his father's razor with a light smile. He had a thousand of jokes about it, but I didn't want to remember them. I held the razor, so light and cold! It was funny how this little piece of metal could take away one's life?
Now the most powerful weapon fell into the hands of the lamest person, what would she do with it? Would there be songs and poems written about it? She missed her old boyfriend. Would she be able to stand firmly in front of a passing train like Anna Karenina?
I thought so, if only there was a train now. That girl had done enough damage today, hadn't she?
My head hurt like it was about to split when I remembered Harry's sad, sad face. Weird how I used to be the queen of the world, and now the damn slave of it.
I was still wearing my school uniform - what a surprise. My fingers traced along the gentle blade. A drop of blood - my blood I realised - appeared. It fell into the dirty white sink. I wished it would hurt. Then another drop followed. It smelled. I pulled up my sleeve. There were snails. One was smiling and the other was frowning.
Why be unhappy, snail? Did someone hurt you? How could I let you remain unhappy, I was compassionate. I could tattoo a smile there, at least I could make something happy.
"Put that down."
I looked up and saw Max's face from the reflection of the mirror. He kept shaking his head, his body too.
"Hello..."
"Harry told me," Max stepped closer. "I'm not going to tell you that it's not your fault. It is, but we'll figure out what to do. I need you to put that down."
"Harry thought I was strong and he'd like that so he stuck with me. I have to change because you have and you're better now. I see you every day and why can't I be like you? Does it work this way?"
"You don't have to change," Max trembled. "Put that away please. If you don't like it here, we can move to somewhere else. You don't have to see Don or Harry. How about London? You'll like the red buses - we've been there once with mum and dad! Or how about Scotland - Mrs Knit would know the place. We can even go hom -"
"Mum was right," I told Max. "I only cause trouble. This is not fun."
"She's fucking wrong," Max stepped forward and my back hit the sink, "she doesn't know you the way I do. You want to talk about Tommy? Okay, okay. We'll talk about him for the entire day if you want. And, fuck it, we really can go back if you want to."
"We can't go back," I said. "I don't want to now. Things will still have changed if we go back. You love staying here and you've found someone you really like, yeah?"
"Bullshit! Look, no one thought you could survive the fire, and you made it. Yes you're different from people around your age but s-so? You're my sister, it doesn't matter."
I wasn't going to listen.
"Have you ever felt like you're being buried. Like someone keeps pouring the earth into a hole where I live and I am not throwing the earth out fast enough. It's getting full. I can't stop thinking sometimes. I wanted to hate things but I was playing with them all along. And I hurt Harry."
"You're not doing this to me," Max shouted. "You and me - you're my best friend."
"You can have many best friends," I said. I put the icy thing on my skin and I felt like a skyscraper.
I dropped the blade. I watched the thin iron fall on the toilet tiles, and there was my blood near it. I sat on the ground. It was all I could think of to do.
What a coward I was. One cut that could end everything and I didn't do it. Max kicked the blade away and I sobbed. The blood of my fingers stained the flower. Max talked but I only looked at the red spotted white tile.
I didn't make any sound again because Max wanted to talk.
"Remember I disappeared for three days after we arrived? Only Anne called you," Max said, he sat closer to me.
I nodded.
"I took lots of medicine, sleeping pills and other stuff. I couldn't pay anything, the rent, your school stuff and I had nothing. I drank something strong that night, and I just, I was an idiot. Anne found me after I made the call to say goodbye - I have no idea why I would call her - it's just two days after I knew her. She took me to the hospital to wash the things out and she stayed for a night before I even asked her out. Jennifer knew it, and she paid some fees. I asked them not to tell anyone."
"What's the moral of the story?" I asked tiredly.
"It's not going to solve the problem," Max said.
"Being a choir member made you so wise."
Max smiled lightly."We'll start it all over from the beginning and it doesn't work for you, we'll do it again and again until there's this one time that you feel like you know what you're doing in your life, okay? If you like Don, Don then. I'm not dad."
I started talking. I didn't know what I was talking about but when I talked, I felt like something came out. Max insisted putting the blanket on the floor in my room. He slept next to me, and I looked at my sky and finally slept.