Forever Blue (12 page)

Chapter Twenty

Lennon

Because of Mum's budding romance with Flynn, we were invited to The Auto Shop's annual barbeque for employees and their families. The Armistead's house was situated past the workshop and down a muddy driveway. Broken down and rusty cars lay scattered in the paddock. There was no garden and only a gravelled area for parking. The house was made of the same corrugated iron as the workshop but painted a dark blue.  The inside wasn't much better than the outside. Car parts covered the kitchen counter and empty pizza boxes lay discarded in a pile. Thankfully, it was a lovely clear evening with only a hint of a breeze and we were all able to sit outside on the deck.

I had forgotten Judah would be there, and was a little surprised when I saw him and his parents sitting on the wooden chairs, looking out of place. Well, Judah didn't. He had on blue jeans streaked with grease but his parents looked around the house with their noses held high. I wondered why Flynn had bothered to invite them. They certainly didn't appear to be the beer-drinking, barbequing type. Wine-sipping, fine dining type was more appropriate. Other than Flynn, Cara, Mum, myself and the Mitchells, there was only one other worker who had brought along his young wife and toddler.

It was strange seeing Judah chatting away to Flynn. Stretched out on the chair, legs crossed at the ankles and hands behind his head, he looked so much like Ruben it hurt.

Flynn introduced us to everyone and Mum and Mrs Mitchell delved into conversation, catching up on lost years. I looked for a flicker of recognition when Mr Mitchell was introduced to me, but he didn't remember our previous encounters. They were Ruben's family, yet I remained distant from them, as though there was no connection between us. Of course, for them there wasn't.

It was a casual affair. The adults chatted easily among themselves, thanks to a liberal supply of wine and beer, while Cara sat with her arms crossed and glaring angrily at the floor. Judah, although he was partly invested in the conversation between his father and Flynn, often looked over at her apologetically, as though he was trying to make up for something, trying to prove he was worthy of at least the briefest of glances, but she refused to look up.

When the sun set, the adults moved inside and it was just Cara, Judah and me left outside to tend the fire crackling in the brazier.

Judah cleared his throat. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Cara looked up then, but she didn't answer. She shook her head and got up from her chair to walk inside, slamming the door behind her.

"She's delightful tonight," I said, awkwardly grinning at Judah. It had been over two weeks since our last encounter.

He laughed, just a little, it was more like a shrug of his shoulders with a grunt-like sound effect. "She's not that bad."

"I'm not sure she feels the same about you."

"She has her reasons." He chewed on his bottom lip and scuffed the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "Oh, by the way, I got you something." He stood and stretched his hands high above his head so a little strip of flesh showed between his jeans and tee shirt, before wandering in the direction of the cars. "You coming, or what?" he yelled as he popped open the boot of his car. "This is to say sorry for being a jerk the other day. I'm not used to people—" He paused. "People being nice."

He pulled a black object out from his boot. "A battery?" I said.

"Yup. Open your bonnet and I'll flick it in."

"I can't take that," I said, stunned by his offer.

He frowned. "Why not? It's not new or anything, but it will be a heck of a lot better than the one you've got. You might actually be able to leave the stereo on and it should start afterwards."

"I don't know what to say. I mean, I'll pay you for it but I can't just take it from you." I had no idea what price they were, but I knew batteries weren't cheap.

"Why not? It's just a battery. I've got lots of them lying around." He walked over to my car and reached inside to flick open the bonnet.

"So who have you been talking to about Ruben?" Judah's voice came out muffled from underneath the bonnet.

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"You said you believed me. No one in this town believes me, not even my own parents, they say they do, but they don't. Well, Dad doesn't anyway. So, what makes you so sure?"

"Mr Armistead believes you, and you just don't look the type." I couldn't tell him the real reason, not yet.

"So I haven't got the mark of Cain on my forehead?"

I looked at him quizzically.

"Cain and Abel? The Bible? Cain killed his brother?"

I shook my head.

"Did your parents not take you to Sunday School?" he asked.

"Mum's more into the belief we are all our own gods and Dad thinks that people who believe in God are weak."

"And you?" Judah finished installing the battery and leaned against the side of my car, arms crossed.

"Don't know, to be honest. Do you believe in God, or heaven and hell, an afterlife?" I said, twisting the conversation.

"Who knows?" He scuffed the ground with the toe of his shoe. "Sometimes I think Ruben is still hanging around. Well, his spirit or soul, or whatever. I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it feels like he is still here watching me, and Mum is certain his spirit lives on in some form or another. If a bird follows her around for a bit, she claims it's Ruben keeping an eye on her." He peered across at me. "What about you?"

"I used to be sceptical, but these days I think almost anything is possible." I leaned against Elmo. "What was he like? If you don't mind me asking."

Ruben had said he was different from when he was alive. I guess a year of solitude with nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company would do that to a person.

"Ruben? I loved him and hated him, like all brothers do, I guess. He was good at everything. Well, the things Dad thought profitable, not like wasting your time working on cars." Judah shifted his weight and stood with his shoulders squared. "You'll never make any money fiddling around with cars, son." He imitated the stance and voice of his father, then leaned back against the car again. "Ruben was good at school, good at sport, popular, everything my parents wanted. I loved him, but I couldn't help but feel like I always came off second best. He always got what he wanted." Bitterness crept into his tone. "He dated virtually everyone in the school. He could be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he meant well. His funeral was huge. I think the whole town turned up. Don't get me wrong, I loved him, it's just sometimes it was hard being his brother, and it's even harder now that he is gone. I'll never be able to live up to his memory, so I don't even bother to try."

The music of
Simon and Garfunkel
grew louder as Cara opened the door and called out to us that dessert was ready.

"I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this," he said. "Let's not talk about it anymore, okay?"

"Not talk about what?" Cara looked between us, her eyes narrowing as we walked towards the house.

"Nothing," Judah said, ducking past her.

"I think your mother has had a little too much to drink, Judah. She and your mum," she nodded to me, "are up dancing on the table."

Judah looked back, surprised that she had spoken to him, then recovered. "I better tell Dad to get her home. If she's up dancing, then it won't be long until she hits the wall and things turn messy."

Just before I walked inside, I heard my name being whispered in the darkness. I looked back, and in the dim light, I could just make out Ruben's silhouette.

"Give me a minute," I said to Cara, who just shrugged and let the door shut in my face.

I walked over to where Ruben was waiting, hands stuffed in his pockets and grinning impishly. "Sorry, I just couldn't stand going any longer without seeing you." He wrapped his arms around me and inhaled deeply.

I stepped back, looking over at where I could see everyone inside. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to see you."

"You can't just turn up like this."

"You're annoyed." He pouted playfully.

"Not annoyed. It's just with all that is going on, my head is in a complete muddle, and when you're around it's easy to forget that other people can't see you."

He nodded to the house where the brightly lit window displayed the view to the outside world. "Can't say I've ever seen my mother dance on a table before."

My mum was holding her sides laughing. Flynn and Mr Mitchell were leaning against the fireplace, involved in another debate, no doubt regarding cars, while Mrs Mitchell was dancing on the coffee table, with Judah trying to coax her down. The others must have gone home.

"She drinks a lot more than she ever used to. It's my fault." He looked so sad that I wanted to wrap my arms around his waist and press close to him, but I was aware of the eyes of the people inside the house.

"How is it your fault?" I whispered.

"I died."

"That's hardly your fault."

I didn't think it was possible for him to look even sadder, but I was wrong. "You better get inside," he said quietly.

I was surprised when he followed me. He went over to his mother who was hanging onto Judah and stroked her cheek. A shudder ran through her and I wondered if on some level she could sense him.

"Come on Mum, let's get you home," Judah said, taking her by the arm. She leaned into him and patted his cheek, smiling lopsidedly.

Mr Mitchell looked up at Judah's voice and his eyes widened when he saw his wife. "Right. Looks like we better head home." He laughed nervously.

"Why?" Mrs Mitchell pouted and then she turned to my Mum. "We haven't had cuddles in months," she said, a lot louder than she probably intended. "Not since he died."

Mr Mitchell laughed nervously and took his wife's arm, shaking his head ever so slightly. Mrs Mitchell just scowled at him. Ruben stood beside his mum and Judah. Once again, I saw the sadness in his eyes as he looked at his family, so eager to reach out to them. I smiled at him softly. He looked so pale under the harsh incandescent light, his hair the exact same shade as Judah's but swept off his face, his cheeks flecked with the same freckles. But it was the sorrow with which he studied his mother that made my heart sigh.

Mum was captured in Flynn's embrace, staring into his eyes lovingly. The way she once looked at Dad.

"You ready to go?" I asked her.

She looked over at me and then back at Flynn. "You go ahead."

"But I'm your ride home."

"I'll be fine." She looked back into Flynn's eyes and giggled. I did not want to see that.

Ruben and I drove back to my house in silence. He followed me through the house and into my room, flopping himself down on the bed and leaning against the bedhead, hands cupped under his head and ankles crossed.

"Your window is perfect," he said as I flicked on my computer and checked my lack of emails.

I swivelled the chair around. "I've always thought so."

"It creates the perfect frame." He patted the empty space on the bed beside him. "Come here."

I walked over and fitted myself into the space under his arm. My head rested on his chest where the steady rhythm of his heart beat soundly.

He held his fingers in a square. "If you look at it from this angle, you can see the moon and the stars, the tips of the mountains above the dark forest, and the faintest glimmer of the lake. It's so beautiful."

"Delicatessen," I stated.

"Delicatessen?" he repeated.

"It's a beautiful word, don't you think?"

Ruben hugged me tighter. "I'm stuck on blue." His chest rose and fell as he sighed deeply. "I didn't like tonight." I twisted my head to peer up at him as he spoke. "I didn't like that I couldn't be there with you, not really, not properly." He adjusted his position on the bed so my head tucked beneath his chin. "I just hope you know I would do those things, if I could. I'd take you on a date, a proper date." He laughed a little. "I never got to do that with someone."

"You never dated? Judah said you dated almost every girl in school."

"Judah is exaggerating. But I'm talking about actually going on a date, you know, like out for dinner, or bringing you home to meet my parents, the sort of things I used to avoid at all costs. If I could, I'd do all those things with you, but I can't. Showing you parts of my world is all I can offer."

"It's enough," I said, pressing closer to him.

Chapter Twenty One

Lennon

Ruben asked me to try and talk to Judah again, and the chance came the next day as Judah sat alone in his car, listening to music and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Have you got a minute?" I said when he rolled down the window. "I need to talk to you about something important." Without waiting for an answer, I climbed into the passenger's seat. "Take me to the abandoned house."

He looked at me as though I'd lost my mind, but started the engine and drove. "How do you know about that house, and what's so important?" he asked as we turned onto Stone's Throw Road.

My palms were sticky. I didn't know how I was going to approach the subject. All I had planned so far was to get him to the abandoned house where I knew Ruben would be waiting. "I'll tell you when we get there."

Judah grunted and turned up the volume on the radio. The music blared and Judah continued to drum his fingers on the steering wheel. The rhythm hammered into my head and thudded against the edges of my skull. I pressed my fingers to my temples and massaged, willing the repetitive thud to lessen.

"Can we turn it down?" I asked finally.

Judah scowled and turned the radio off. When we pulled over to the side of the road, he got out and followed me through the paddocks. He leaned against the rotting, wooden fence, looking at the house hesitantly. "Okay, we're here. Now what?"

"Come inside."

"Look, I don't know if you've got some weird dead brother fetish thing going on or something, but I'm just not interested. I like someone else."

I closed the door firmly behind us and walked to the room where I knew Ruben would be waiting. "It's not like that."

Ruben leaned against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, back pressed against the sketches. The pad he had used to sketch me was lying in the same place as before, the page now blank.

"Just tell him," he said.

"Shh, let me think," I muttered.

"I didn't say anything." Judah looked at me suspiciously.

"Sorry." I paced the strip of floorboards still intact and they protested under my weight. How did I broach the subject? I couldn't just blurt it out, I would sound insane. Hey, Judah, I've been dating your brother, you know, the dead one, he's some sort of ghost or something, and I'm the only person who can see him. I shook my head. It sounded insane, even inside my own mind, and I could see Ruben.

Judah, who had been hovering near the doorway, stepped into the room and looked around, his eyes narrowing in on the sketches fluttering in the slight breeze. "How do you know about this place?" His voice caught in his throat as he traced his finger over the outline of the hand lying in the grass. "Did you know Ruben drew these?"

I nodded absently in answer to his question, still trapped by the conversations going on in my head. I just didn't know what to say, or how to even start. No matter what I came up with, it just sounded pathetic.

Judah, sensing my hesitation, walked over and took my shoulders, holding me in place. "Talk," he instructed gruffly.

Trapped in his grasp, I looked up and stared into eyes which were an exact replica of Ruben's, tinted with the same sadness but also with anger and bitterness. I bit my lip nervously and Judah's grip on my arms intensified.

"Just tell him," Ruben urged.

"Just tell me," Judah said, and it sounded like an echo in the broken room. Ruben moved to stand beside him. The mirror image blurred in my vision, one staring at me impatiently, the other imploringly.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I can see Ruben," I blurted out.

Judah didn't answer, but his grip on my arms dropped. I risked opening my eyes, expecting disbelief or shock, but Judah's look was cold and hard. "Very funny. And I'm
Bruce Willis
." He walked towards the door, throwing words over his shoulder. "Look, I don't know what sort of game you're playing, but just keep me out of it, okay?"

"Judah, please wait." I took a deep breath, closed my eyes again, not wanting to see his reaction, and let the words, jumbled and unrehearsed, flow from me. "I met him at the cemetery. At first, he told me he was you, but then, when I ran into you at school that time, and you acted as if you hardly knew me, I confronted him and he told me the truth. I don't know what he is. All I know is that I can see him, and that he is as real to me as you are standing here now. He's here, in fact. He's standing right beside you."

Judah expelled a snort of air. "Okay, so you're crazy."

"I'm not," I said, and grabbed his arm. At his cold glare, I dropped it and backed away. "Look, I know how this seems, I know how hard this is to believe, but why would I make this up?"

Judah shook his head. "Whatever you've got going on in that head of yours is not my problem, but I suggest you get help. Professional help."

Ruben moved to my side. "Tell him that he has a scar on his right hip from when he fell out of a tree when he was six," he said.

I bit off the reply that was sitting on the tip of my tongue, knowing that talking to Ruben in front of Judah was not going to help my case.

"He said to tell you about the scar on your hip that you got from falling out of a tree."

Judah took a step back. "Cara could have told you that."

"Cara knows you have a scar on your hip?" I asked, momentarily distracted.

"Seriously?" Ruben hissed. "Do you think we could concentrate on getting my brother to believe you, rather than what Cara does or doesn't know about him?"

"Do you feel like attempting it yourself?" I hissed back, annoyed that he was getting angry when all I was trying to do was help.

"Attempting what?" The doubt in Judah's eyes was plain, doubt and mistrust, and I didn't blame him.

"Never mind," I said, covering my face with my hands.

Beside me, Ruben ran his fingers through his thick hair and sighed with frustration. "Please try," he pleaded, and then he continued to tell me things to relay to Judah.

I took a deep breath and spoke, passing on the information each time Ruben paused. "You used to be afraid of the dark and had to have a nightlight. Sometimes, since Ruben's death, you still do. Once, you slept walked and peed in the closet, not your closet, Ruben's closet, and he was annoyed at you for weeks for ruining his pair of shoes that had little wheels on the heels. You like classical music, but only listen to it when other people aren't around because you're scared of what they will think. You had a crush on Billie Johnson in primary school and sent her a Valentine's Day card, but because you didn't sign your name, she assumed it was from Ruben and you never told her it was you."

Judah's face paled. He leaned against the door and ran his hands through his hair, almost tearing it at the roots, the exact same way Ruben had only moments before.

"He's beginning to believe," Ruben said, a little hope creeping into his tone.

I looked at Judah and shook my head. "He's confused."

"Me?" Judah said, his hands still entwined in his hair. "Of course I'm confused."

I took a step closer and reached out to place my hand on his arm. "You didn't kill your brother, or Lana."

"But how—"

"How do I know all these things?" I finished for him. "Because Ruben is right here telling me."

Judah sunk to the floor. "It's just not possible."

Ruben crouched next to him. I could see how much he wanted to reach out and touch his brother, to show him that he was still there, but he didn't. Instead, he turned to me, pleading to make his brother see something he couldn't.

"It's impossible," Judah whispered, more to himself than to me. His eyes darted around the room, as though he was scared Ruben was going to suddenly appear.

I sat on the floor beside him and stared down at my hands looped between my knees. "I know it doesn't seem possible, but he really is here."

"Now?" he asked.

I nodded, and he looked slowly around the room again. Ruben was still crouched beside him, but Judah stared straight through him, unable to see the one thing he was looking for. "But I can't see him. I can't hear him." He became agitated. "How can I believe something I can't see?"

"How else would I know those things about you?" I whispered, taking Judah's hand and squeezing tightly. Ruben's eyes darkened.

"I can't." Judah sighed. "None of this makes sense. If you can see Ruben, does that mean he isn't dead? Or does it mean that part of you is dead too? There are too many questions. It's just too ridiculous. I need to clear my head." He got up and walked out, leaving Ruben and me alone.

"You should have tried harder," Ruben said, his eyes still dark.

"I just told him that I can see his dead brother. What did you expect?" I replied.

"Why didn't you try harder? Are you afraid he'll spread rumours around school?" His nostrils flared. "Because if you are, he's not that sort of person. He's fundamentally against greasing the school gossip wheel. If anyone can keep his mouth shut, it's Judah. Believe me."

The wind picked up and pushed a stray breeze through the building. The gaping silence between us grew until it was unbearable. The darkness in Ruben's eyes dimmed to sadness and I walked over and stood behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and resting my chin on his shoulder. "What now?"

Ruben pulled away and walked out the same door his brother had only moments before. "I guess that's up to him," he said quietly.

I walked home alone and flopped down on my bed, staring out the window at the tops of the mountains hidden by hovering cloud.

The tension between Ruben and I when we parted only intensified my desire to be around him. Why did my heart beat faster at the sight of him? Why did I spend hours obsessing over our conversations? Why did excitement flood my veins each time our eyes met? I was falling in love, but who was I falling in love with? The ghost of a dead boy, or someone as real to me as the air I breathed? It was as those thoughts ran about my head that I fell into a fitful and dream-filled sleep.

I was powerless to move. Rain dripped onto my face, forcing my eyes shut, but even with them closed I knew it was Ruben who held me tight. His hands brushed against my hair and down my back, pulling me closer and closer until the familiar panic started to well in my chest. His lips pressed against mine and I tried to pull away, but my body and lips were held to his by an invisible force. My chest, my arms, my legs, every part of me was screaming for release, yet at the same time, I yearned for more. Even though his lips were still pressed against mine, I heard his voice.

"Breathe," he said. "Just breathe."

"I can't," I heard myself reply.

"Let go, it will be easier. Let me in."

I felt the water around me then, not just as rain, but as a body wrapping me in its arms, cold and sharp, pressing on my lungs. It tugged me down, its pull begging me to succumb to the watery depths.

Pain and pleasure pulsated, leaving me with only two choices.

Fight or succumb.

Breathe or die.

A gush of air inflated my lungs, but instead of relief, it brought numbing coldness. I didn't shiver, it wasn't that sort of cold. It was the same coldness I felt when I reached out and held Harrison's hand. The coldness of death.

"Lennon!"

I woke with a start to find Ruben leaning over me, his eyes filled with concern.

"You were thrashing in your sleep."

I took in the dimly lit room, my racing heart, and my skin feeling nothing but cold. "What are you doing here," I said as my thoughts struggled through the fog of my dream.

"I—" His eyes dropped to the ground.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I asked.

He nodded as I looked over at the yellow curtain fluttering in the breeze from the open window.

"You can't do that."

He looked up. "I can't help it," he whispered. "You don't know how much lonelier it is now that I know I can be with you. Missing something is worse when you know exactly what it is you're missing." He stood beside the window, one hand placed on the frame. "Was it bad?"

I nodded, unable to talk.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I was drowning. You were killing me."

Ruben walked the few steps from the window to my bed and lay beside me, wrapping me in his arms and holding me securely against his chest. He held me like that and didn't speak until my breathing returned to normal. "I'm sorry," he said so quietly I barely heard it.

"It's not your fault," I said, even though I knew the words were a lie.

"I'm sorry about earlier." His chin moved against the crook of my neck. "I should have never got annoyed with you. Judah and I have always had a love/hate relationship and—" His voice fell to a whisper. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry."

I twisted around and huddled into him, my face buried in his chest, clinging to him at the same time as hiding from him. He spoke the next words with his lips pressed to the top of my head, his breath warm and comforting.  "You are everything to me. I would never want to hurt you. I hope you know that."