Forever Blue (14 page)

"Debs said something along the lines of how Grams would disappear for hours, sometimes days. Their father had to take Debs and Aunty Shell with him looking for her once, and they found her just wandering the walking tracks in the forest, mumbling and talking to herself. She was freezing, but it was like she didn't even notice. Granddad just couldn't stop her from wandering, so, in the end, he put her in this home, or hospital or someplace, and they kept her locked up, never able to leave the grounds. Then one day, she escaped and they found her at someone's house. The lady woke up to find her leaning over the bed. But after that, things got better. She never left that place, though, not until she came here after the fire at the old nursing home. Debs said they tried to get her to leave but she wouldn't have it, wouldn't leave her friends."

This was the most I had ever heard of the story and it piqued my interest. "So what happened? What was wrong with her?"

Sienna shrugged as I pulled the car to a stop beside hers. "As I said, she almost told me the story. She's never mentioned it again, and if I bring it up, she tells me the past is in the past and it doesn't matter." Sienna opened the door. "You still coming to the fireworks display on Friday, or are you going to ditch me for the boy you're not seeing?"

I smiled. "I'll be there."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Chapter Twenty Three

Lennon

I forgot about Ruben in the back of the car until he spoke.

"I wish I could go with you."

"To the bonfire?"

He climbed between the seats and sat beside me. "I wish I could be more."

I smiled and reached out to cover his hand with my own, rubbing the smooth flesh which felt so warm under my touch. "You're enough."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. But I think I'm getting stronger or something. I actually moved that glass. Not just in my mind, or my memory, or—" He rested his head against the headrest. "Or wherever it is that I exist, but in the world, the real world, your world."

"My world is your world," I said.

He lifted his head and smiled, creasing the dimples in his cheeks. "You know what I mean. Maybe there's hope. Maybe I have to earn myself back into existence. See, I knew you were sent to help me. Now we just have to make Judah believe. Maybe the more people that know about me, the more I become."

I started driving down the long driveway. No one answered when I first knocked on the front door of the Mitchells' residence. I knocked again and Judah's head appeared out the window above.

"You," he stated.

"Me," I confirmed.

He pulled his head back in the window, and for a moment, I thought he was going to leave me standing on the front step, but soon I heard footsteps approaching and the door opened. Judah leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, unsmiling. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

"Is my dead brother with you?" He smirked, and I swear I saw a flash of amusement.

I looked at Ruben and then back at Judah, and swallowed the nervous dread creeping up my throat. "Yes."

"You're really something, you know that?" He stood aside and I waited on the step as Ruben entered. "Well, come in, then," he said, still leaning against the door and following me with his eyes as I entered the house. I followed Ruben down the hallway, passed a rugby jersey framed under lights, and up the stairs to a bedroom on the left.

"Where are you going?" Judah called out, bounding after me.

"This is my room." Ruben ran his fingers over the few sketches that lined the wall, covering the boldly striped wallpaper. They fluttered under his touch.

Judah leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, but didn't follow me inside. "This was his room," he said quietly. "He always kept it freakishly tidy."

And it was. Everything had a place. The only thing strange about the room was the fine layer of dust. Judah noted my gaze skipping from the windowsills to the bedside cabinet to the TV stand and the frames of the pictures on the walls. Ruben traced his name in the dust along the windowsill.

"Mum won't let them clean in here," Judah said. His voice broke a little and he cleared his throat. My eyes fell to the guitar resting against the wall, the only thing out of place.

"You played?" I asked Ruben, forgetting for a moment that I shouldn't speak to him in front of Judah.

"Ruben did," Judah said. "But he could only play one song."

"
House of the Rising Sun
," Ruben said.

I repeated it just as Judah did, and Judah chewed his bottom lip. "You knew." He smiled for a moment, then the grin fell from his face and he walked away. "I don't go in there." He disappeared into the room on the opposite side of the hallway.

"Follow him," Ruben urged.

I walked across the short hallway space and into Judah's room which was the exact opposite of Ruben's. There was barely any floor space visible with clothing strewn over the carpet and over the chairs. A large TV took up most of one wall and a bean bag and coffee table were placed in front of it. The screen showed a game, the avatar bouncing on the spot, performing the odd fight stance, waiting for Judah's return. Judah flopped down on the bean bag, but didn't offer, or clear a space for me to sit, so I awkwardly paced the floor in front of the window, looking out over the fountain. There was only one sketch on the walls of Judah's bedroom. It was crumpled, as though it had been discarded and then smoothed out. Musical notes formed the background for a word in bold firm strokes: euphonious. And in smaller handwriting underneath, pleasing; sweet in sound.

Judah saw me studying it. "Ruben gave it to me years ago," he said. "Apparently it's a word associated with our star sign or some such shit." He was quiet for a long time before speaking again. "Sometimes I think I see him. Just a glimpse of him rounding the corner in front of me, or sometimes out on the rugby field, streaking past with the ball, but I know it isn't him. The therapist said it's just grief painting pictures in my mind." He turned down the volume on the game and resumed playing. "Is that what it's like for you?" he asked, flicking his eyes up briefly.

I shook my head as the faint strains of the beginning bars of
House of the Rising Sun
floated through the air. "I see him like I see you."

His face hardened and he turned his attention back to the game and punched on the controls. "What do you want from me?" he asked gruffly.

"Nothing. I don't want anything. It's Ruben who needs you. He needs you to believe. He thinks if you just acknowledge that he's here, then maybe he could talk to you, interact with you like he does with me."

Judah snorted. "You know how crazy you sound, right?"

I pushed some of the clothing off the bed and sat down on the edge. "Yeah, I know."

"So what do you talk about, you and my brother?"

"Everything and nothing. You. Cara."

"Cara?"

"He says it's because of him that you two aren't together."

Judah grunted. "You could say that."

"What happened?"

Judah was quiet for a long time, pounding his thumbs on the controller, tongue twisting in concentration. "You'd have to ask him. Did he tell you what happened that night? The night he—" He twisted his head to the side as if dislodging something in his throat. "The night he died?"

"Sort of. Not really. He said he doesn't like to talk about it. Can you blame him?"

"But you believe that I'm not guilty? It wasn't me?"

"He told me it wasn't. Either time. And I believe him."

He put the controller down, but the game still played on the screen, his avatar anxiously bouncing and shouting phrases to encourage his return. "It's almost been a year."

"I know." My eyes unconsciously flicked to the wall planner covering the space above his desk. "Are you going to the fireworks display?"

He shook his head. "Don't think I'd be welcome."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"You?" He looked surprised, and a little amused.

I frowned. "Would that be so bad?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't think you'd want to be seen with me."

I shrugged. "If you hadn't noticed by now, I'm not exactly going to win a popularity contest anytime soon. I doubt you'll tarnish my reputation."

Judah reached over and turned the TV off. The haunting strains of Ruben plucking the strings of the guitar wafted through the door. Judah frowned. "Do you hear that?" He cocked his head to the side and stood. "Can you hear that?" he asked again.

"Wait," I said, getting to my feet and following him out the door. "You can hear him?"

"The guitar," he said, standing at the entrance to Ruben's room. Ruben sat on the bed, guitar in his lap. "Did you move his guitar?"

I shook my head.

"Don't mess with me, Lennon. Did you move his guitar?"

"It wasn't me," I said quietly. I stood beside him and took his hand. "It's Ruben."

Ruben let the guitar fall to the floor and the reverberations rattled through the room.

"He can hear me?" He walked over and stood in front of Judah. "Judah," he said, peering into the face of his brother. "Judah, it's me. Can you see me? Can you hear me?"

I squeezed Judah's hand as he stared through Ruben.

"I heard him. I just heard him playing," Judah whispered.

"Do it again," I said to Ruben. He walked over, picked up the guitar and began to pluck the strings.

Judah gripped my hand tightly, the pallor of his skin fading. "There it is again."

"Can you see anything?" I asked.

He shook his head, straining to see someone in an empty room. "I can only hear the guitar, just the faintest sound." His breath came out jagged and torn. "It's beautiful." He became aware of our joined hands and let mine drop.

Ruben played and played, the same haunting melody over and over until tears ran down Judah's face and he wiped them away with the sleeve of his shirt. "You should go," he said finally.

"But—"

"Please," he said, looking through eyes swimming in tears. "Please, just go."

We walked down the stairs in silence. Both Judah and Ruben walked with heavy steps and sullen shoulders. I stopped at the doorway and turned to Judah. "If you need to—"

"Won't you be going with your family?" The tears were gone.

"What?" I said, confused.

"To the fireworks. Won't you be going with your family?"

I shook my head. "It's a tradition to have dinner at the Deacons' beforehand, and then the adults stay at home and watch the fireworks from the deck while we go to the bonfire."

"So you'll be with Sienna Deacon." Judah crossed his arms.

"She won't say a thing. I promise."

"That's a rather big promise. She's known for saying a lot."

I shrugged. "Please?"

"Fine. I'll come."

I smiled. "And if you need to talk—"

Judah shook his head, turning his eyes to the ground. "Just don't, okay?"

"Okay," I repeated, and he shut the door, leaving Ruben and me standing outside.

Ruben pulled me close and rested his chin on top of mine. "Almost," he whispered. "He's almost there."

"He heard you play," I said.

Ruben laughed. "Now I really wish I had learned more than one song."

We walked hand and hand back to the car. Ruben looked out over the forest where I knew the abandoned house stood before getting in. "Just one more stop," he said. "Cara."

"Cara?"

"You've got to convince her to go to the fireworks display with you, just don't tell her Judah will be there. It's all going to work out," he said, leaning across to kiss me on the cheek. "You'll see." The sun came out in his eyes. "Everything will work out."

I twisted the key in the ignition and turned the wheels of the car around the lonely boy in the fountain. My arms were heavy and tired and I felt so cold, despite the sun shining through the window. I turned the heater on but Elmo lived up to his nature and only blew cold air. And then it occurred to me. That was our first kiss. Well, the first kiss that wasn't a dream, and it was just a chaste peck on the cheek. I looked over at him and watched as he stared out the window and over the lake. The dark marks on his cheek stood out in the light streaming in from the window and I wanted to reach out and trace their pattern with the tip of my finger. They were Orion's Belt. The Three Kings. I longed to reach out and tilt his face towards mine and kiss him properly and deeply, but there was a part of me that was still afraid of what would happen if I did. The memory, the dream of drowning was still so clear.

Chapter Twenty Four

Ruben - the previous year

Every year, down by the lake, our small town celebrated Guy Fawkes on the Friday night closest to the fifth of November. Except that Friday night it was raining so hard the display was postponed until Saturday. It was a combined Guy Fawkes and Halloween, though not many people chose to dress up, Puruwai was too subdued.

Thankfully, the night was crisp and clear, without a hint of wind or rain to hinder the fireworks about to burst through the night. It was also the first night the carnival opened for the season, and the line for the Ferris wheel, as miserable as it was, almost reached the carpark. When we were fifteen my father had insisted that Judah and I get a job there to teach us the value of money, but when we wasted it all to buy cheap alcohol from the bar in town that closed its eyes to underage drinkers, he made us quit before the season finished.

Cara stood by my side, wrapped in a thick, but worn jacket, and we watched as Judah leaned against the bonnet of the Fairlane, staring at the flames of the bonfire on the beach.

"I'm surprised he let me drive," I said and took another swig of the coke in my hand. Tonight, I was staying well away from beer. Sober driver extraordinaire.

"Me too." Cara looped her hand through the crook of my arm, but I pulled away, aware of Judah's gaze. "We've got to tell him at some stage," she said.

"Not tonight."

"Well, when?" she asked impatiently.

"I don't know, okay?" I took another step away from her and finished the last of my drink. "It would devastate him."

Cara smiled and batted her eyelashes furiously. "I think you're giving my powers of attraction far too much credit, Ruben Mitchell."

Sienna Deacon walked past with a friend I hadn't seen before. The girl was mousey-looking and paled in comparison to Sienna, who, although she was wearing a ridiculously tight angel costume and high heels that sunk into the stones when everyone else was bundled in jackets, looked amazing. Sienna and I had one of those relationships that was constant turmoil. She was someone I didn't like to be around but she held an attraction that seemed impossible to resist, although I was pretty sure to her I was nothing other than a device to use for her own purposes. She stopped in front of me, looking up and down haughtily. "Hey Ruben," she said and bit the side of her lip.

"Hey," I greeted her, trying to act uninterested. We broke up months ago—if you could call it that, since we never really dated—and avoid each other like the plague at school, though I often found her staring at me, which I guess meant I was staring at her. Her eyes slid over Cara, who tucked her hand into the crook of my arm again and smiled coldly.

"Hi, Sienna."

"Cara." Sienna nodded once. "How's your mother?"

Everyone knew Cara's mother was sick, but no one knew what from. There was a rumour going around that it was all in her head, that she wasn't really sick, at least, not physically, and that she was putting it all on to get Cara back. Despite what her little sister would have you believe, when Cara was at home, she did everything. She cooked, she cleaned and she looked after Lana, ensuring she did her homework and lived as normal of a life as she could, while her mother lay in bed and cried. Cara never really talked about it, but it explained why she hated this town so much, and why she jumped at the chance to go to boarding school when her aunt offered to pay.

"Fine," Cara said, and then she added, "Getting better."

"Good." Sienna looked at me when she said it, and Cara's hand on my arm began to burn with an intensity I wanted to shake off.

"Good," Cara repeated, wrapping her fingers around my bicep like a vice. "And how's your dog?"

"Tinks?" Sienna said, looking slightly confused. "She's good." She frowned slightly and walked on.

It amazed me how they could say so much with so few words.

"What was that about?" I asked once Sienna was out of earshot.

"Nothing." I lifted my eyebrows questioningly, but Cara just laughed and pulled me away from the crowd, out of the circle of light cast by the bonfire. "I've missed you," she said, turning to face me, running her hand up my arm and wrapping it around my neck.

I peeled her hand away. "I've been busy." I had only seen her a few times since we met up in the abandoned house, and each time I saw her, I promised myself nothing would happen. But each time, something did. Not this time, though. This time, Judah was watching.

"Too busy to come see me?" She walked two fingers up my arm, across my shoulder, and traced the line of my jaw before pulling me in for a kiss. I pulled away. "It's because of Judah, isn't it?" She pouted.

I looked over at Judah leaning against the Fairlane, an empty beer bottle dangling limply in his fingers. The people who walked past took a wide berth. Some of them pointed and laughed, and motioned drinking from a bottle and drunkenly driving. Judah gave them the finger.

I saw Ross walking in the distance, talking to Sienna, and took it as an excuse to leave. "I'm going to catch up with the boys." I nodded over to where they stood in a huddled group around the fire, and Cara stepped to follow. "Maybe you should go check on Judah," I suggested.

Annoyance crossed her face before she stormed off. I sighed heavily and walked over to join my friends.

Alex was curled around a girl wearing an outfit that made Sienna's look warm and conservative. He kissed her sloppily, all tongue and no class. The girl was clearly intoxicated. When he released her, she stumbled and almost fell into the fire, caught only by me grabbing onto her flimsy top. As I pulled her back, I realised who it was.

"Lana?" I let her go and stepped forward to get a closer look at Cara's little sister. Her face was smeared with too much makeup and her dark eyes grew big.

"Judah!" she yelled, and threw her arms around me, clinging tightly and swaying a little.

"Actually, it's Ruben," I corrected.

She squinted and peered at me with her arms still wrapped tightly around my waist. "Are you sure? Because you look an awful lot like Judah."

"I'm sure." I detangled myself and held her at arm's length, glaring at Alex. "She's fourteen," I said angrily. He just smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. I turned back to Lana. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" she mimicked. Then she giggled and repeated it again with mock severity.

"Lana," I scolded. "Does your dad know you're here?"

"Does Cara know you're here?" She grinned and poked me in the chest before cuddling into me again, her voice muffled in the fabric of my shirt. "I know your little secret," she whispered. Well, she attempted to whisper.

"You're drunk," I said, trying to prise her off. But she held on tight, arms wrapped around my waist, and peered up with her chin resting against my chest, before stepping back and sticking out her hand.

"Hi Lana. I'm drunk." She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. "No, wait. I'm Lana. You're Judah. No, still wrong. You're Ruben. You're you, and I'm me." She smiled triumphantly and grabbed my hand, shaking it vigorously.

"You need to go home," I said.

Lana dropped my hand and stamped her foot. "No!" she yelled. "Make Cara go home. It's her turn to look after Mum. I always do it. I don't want to anymore. I want to have fun."

The beer bottle I hadn't noticed before came to Lana's lips. I pulled it out of her fingers and her mouth followed, chasing a bottle that was no longer there. "You're drunk," I repeated.

"Yep!" she replied gleefully. "I'm drunk and you're Ruben. Hey! I got it right!" She clapped her hands excitedly.

Guiding her by the elbow, I gave Alex one more scowl before walking towards Judah and Cara as Lana chatted about the party, and the smoke from the fire, and the pretty stars, and whatever other nonsense entered her head. As we approached, Cara reached out to Judah but he jerked away. Panic pulsed. What had she told him?

"Lana?" Cara said, dropping a half burned cigarette to the ground and stomping on it. "What are you doing here? Does Dad know you're here?" She stepped forward and peered at Lana closely. "You're drunk."

Lana gasped and giggled. "You were smoking!"

"You're fourteen, Lana."

"Yep." Lana nodded forcefully and almost fell over with the movement. "You're onto it tonight, Car. Two things right. I'm drunk and I'm fourteen. It's no wonder you were sent away to that fancy boarding school with that sort of intellect." She stumbled over the word intellect, repeating it over and over until it eventually came out right.

She swayed and I reached out to steady her. "I caught her sucking face with Alex," I said.

Cara mimed gagging before glaring at me coldly. I wasn't sure if I had ever seen her look this way. I couldn't read her expression. Was it directed at me, or her little sister? I tried to gauge the tension between Cara and Judah, or maybe it was between Cara and me, but she wouldn't meet my eye. Her gaze flicked from Lana to Judah. She looked at me briefly, but it wasn't long enough to read anything in her eyes. Judah pulled himself from the car and started to walk away, but Cara reached out for him.

"Don't go," she pleaded.

I swallowed the lump that formed in the base of my throat. My name was being chanted in the background. "Ru, Ru, Ru, Ru." The rugby boys stalked towards me. They were stumbling, arms flung over each other's shoulders and beer bottles gripped tightly in their fingers.

"Just go home, Lana." Cara sighed, but she didn't release her grip on Judah's arm. I didn't know whether to be jealous or concerned.

"No." Lana crossed her arms and pouted.

"Go home!" Cara yelled.

"I don't want to!" Lana yelled back, and a few of the people surrounding us stared. Not the rugby boys, though, they preceded to march towards me, chanting, egging me to join them. I backed away just as Lana took off running.

"Shit," Cara cursed. Her face distorted until I wasn't sure if she was scowling or smiling. "Help me find her?"

"Me?" I said and lurched away from her outstretched hand, aware of Judah's hard glare. "Find her yourself." I turned away and followed the chants of my name.

My night got better after that. I hung with the rugby boys and laughed when Mr Watson scolded us and tried to take the beer bottles away. I forgot about Cara and Lana and Judah. Once, I looked over and saw Judah still leaning against the Fairlane, alone. His eyes locked on mine. I waved, but he didn't wave back.

"What's his problem?" Ross said and gave Judah the finger.

"You know Judah," I said, and attempted a laugh, but it didn't come out right.

Ross thumped my chest. "Look, he's coming over."

Sure enough, Judah stalked towards me, shoulders hunched and scowling.

Ross laughed. "He looks pissed. You two had a lovers' quarrel or something?"

"We're brothers," I replied. "That doesn't even make sense."

But it made more sense than I cared to admit. I wish I had spoken to Cara and asked her what she said to him. Ross was right, though. Judah looked pissed. And not the drunk kind.

"Give me the keys," Judah said, when he got close enough for me to hear.

I shook my head. "You can't drive."

"Just watch me," Judah replied, holding out his hand impatiently.

"You know I can't give them to you."

"Why would you care?"

"Of course I care."

"Nawh," Ross cooed. "Is Judah feeling wonely?"

"Shut up, Ross," Judah growled.

"Or what?" Stuart challenged, stepping around Ross and facing Judah.

"Or, I'll make you, that's what." Judah puffed out his chest and stepped closer to Stuart. Although Stuart towered over Judah in both height and width, judging from the expression on Judah's face, if I was a betting man, my money would have been on him. Rain splattered across Stuart's face. He blinked, cast a glance my way, and backed off.

"That's what I thought," Judah grunted.

I slapped my hand on Stuart's chest, stopping his next advance before it started, and pulled out the keys, dangling them in front of Judah, keen to get rid of him before he did something really stupid. "Here, take them. Do whatever you want. You're not my problem."

Judah jerked the keys from my fingers, stared at Ross and Stuart one more time, and stalked back to the car. "Judah," I yelled, feeling guilty. "Wait up."

He didn't hear or didn't listen, because he kept walking.

"Come on, you know you can't drive," I said.

Judah unlocked the driver's door and leaned across the seat. He stood back up, jacket in hand. "I'm just getting my jacket, psycho." He pulled it over his shoulders, put the hood up to protect him from the rain and threw the keys into the dirt. "Catch you later, brother." He spat the word out as an insult.

"Judah," I yelled. "Judah, wait!"

But he just kept walking, hunched against the rain which was spitting from the sky. Fetching the keys from the mud, I pulled my own jacket out of the car and went in search of Cara. I needed answers. I finally found her sitting by the fire alone, Lana safe at home sleeping off her drunkenness. She looked up forlornly, blinking as spits of rain fell on her cheeks and her hair whipped around her face. "No fireworks for us tonight, huh?"