Tears of the Broken (21 page)

“
I
can’t,” I said in a breaking whisper and turned away from his
intense, pleading eyes.

“
Come.”

“
Where?” I looked back at him; he smiled and opened his door,
allowing the clammy air to mingle with the pleasant, artificial
cool. I hope he doesn’t think I’m getting out in the...

“
Let’s go.” My door flung open and David held out his
hand.

“
How
did you—”How did he get to my door so fast?

“
Come on.” He grabbed my hand. “I wanna show you
something.”

Chapter
Eight

The
trees opened up to a forest trail before us, and the sun streaked
through gaps in the tightly laced canopy, splashing long,
dust-filled beams across the path, but trapping the heat of the
summer above us—forbidding it to taint the cool, kind of
clay-scented air.

“
Watch your step here.” David pressed a hand to my lower back
to guide me around a small cluster of rocks, hidden beneath a pile
of leaves.

“
Thanks. I totally didn’t see that.”

With
a soft nod, he removed his hand and smiled. “I know.”

“
Where are we going?” I asked.

“
South-west.”

“
Hm.
Helpful.” I looked to the path ahead, then rested my hand, like a
visor, to the tip of my brow and gazed up at the ball-shaped glare
of the sun. “But actually, we’re going slightly more
south.”

“
True.” David nodded. “The path we’re on
heads south, but turns to the west up ahead.” He stopped walking
and shook his head, almost as if he were shaking off a fly. “How
did
you
know
that?”

“
I’m
an Aussie.” I used my best homeland-sounding accent. “My best
friend, Mike, taught me how to roughly guess my direction by
looking at the sun—said it would come in handy if I ever found
myself lost in the bushes…with a strange guy…who might not turn out
to be so nice.”

David grinned, rubbing his hand across his jaw as he turned
and started walking again. “Sounds like Mike’s a smart
man.”

“
Yeah.” I followed after him. “He taught me some defensive
moves, too.” Hint, hint. So, don’t try anything funny.

“
You
don’t really think that of me, do you?” David sprung up right in
front of me, catching me again as my face hit his chest.

“
How
did you—”He was at least twenty paces in front of me a second
ago.

“
I
was standing right here, waiting for you. You really should watch
where you’re going.”

I
glared up at him quizzically.

“
Ara? I asked you a question. Do you really think I’d be
capable of hurting you?”

“
How would I know? I don’t really
know
you.”

His
eyes left my face before he turned around and trudged off over the
loose leaves on the forest floor. “Ouch.”

“
Well, you don’t really give me much to go on.” I chased after
him. “I mean, you’re so secretive all the time.”

“
Secretive?”

“
Yeah.”

“
About what, specifically?” He stopped, wearing a defensive
smile.

“
Um—” I stopped walking, too. “Well. I really don’t
know.”

“
So…you want me to be less secretive about nothing
specifically?” He nodded once and started walking again.

“
How
do you do that?” My footfalls came down hard on the muddy leaves,
slipping a little with the weight of irritation.

“
Do
what?”

“
Take my well-thought-out point and turn it into
nothing.”

The
smile sparkled in his eyes as I caught up to him. “It’s a talent of
mine.”

“
It’s annoying. I really hate you for it,” I said in a
light-hearted tone.

He
stopped again, almost as if he’d been sprung back by an elastic
hinge. “Hate is a very powerful word, mon amour. Do not use it
unless you truly understand its value.”

“
Okay then…” I folded my arms. “I despise
you…”
Affectionately
.

David smiled to himself. “I can live with that—for now.”
After a minute of walking in silent companionship, David stretched
his arm out and pointed ahead of us. “See that slight thinning of
the trees up ahead?”

I
nodded.

“
That’s
where we’re
headed.”

“
What’s up there?”

“
It’s a surprise.”

Everything with you is.

We
walked toward a newly decaying cedar tree—acting as a large, wooden
partition between the trail and the sudden openness of whatever it
is beyond, and a damp mossy smell, spiked with the lemony fragrance
of tree-sap, masked the muddy clay one.

The
mercury dropped a little more as we passed the tree, then David
stepped up behind me, grabbed my hand and said, “Welcome to the
lake.”

“
What the…” The leaves stole my gaze upward before casting it
out to the unspoiled, reflective body of water in front of me. A
grand pathway of clover blanketed the trail toward the edge of the
lake, and tiny hovering bugs danced above the carpet of star-shaped
foliage left abandoned by the branches of maple trees.

Though the sky dominated the space, it still felt cool and
shadowed, and kind of…private. A place, not so very different from
the mountain-surrounded picnic spots my dad used to take me to, but
with an element of magic to it, like somehow, I could believe we
we’re the only two souls left in the world.

Oaks
and maples and ground-covering ferns guarded the grassy border of
the shimmering lake, seeming to cluster closely together—some with
their roots growing into the water and others forming snaky rises
under the dark-brown soil. A few metres out, in the middle of the
lake, a family of trees gathered on a small island, surrounded by a
moat of algae. “David, this is beautiful.” I searched the vacant
place beside me where David no longer stood, finding him leaning on
a bulky, waist-height rock, right by the water’s edge. “How did you
find this place?”

“
It’s not something you’d find on hike.” He unhitched himself
from the black rock and walked behind it, then squatted down. “No
one comes out to this trail anymore.”

“
Anymore?”

He
stood up, smiling, and presented a pillow-sized black bag. “This
land is owned by my family. We closed the hiking trails to
outsiders about a hundred years ago.”

“
You
say that like you were a part of the decision.”

“
Well,” he shrugged and reached into the plastic bag, “it’s up
to each generation to decide. I chose to keep the land
private.”

“
Why?”

David busied himself at the base of the rock, laying out the
picnic rug he pulled from the bag. “I like knowing I can come here
to think. That when I do…I’ll be completely alone.”

“
Alone is right.” I looked around again. “It’s very…private
here.” And clean. I can almost taste how pure and cool the water
would be if I drank it.

“
It
originated as hunting land.” He tucked his hands into his pockets
and took a long breath inward, squinting as he observed the
landscape.

“
What did you hunt?”

“
Hunt?”

“
Yeah. You said it was hunting land.”

David turned his head to the left and looked at me.
“Er…Foxes.”

“
Foxes?”

“
Yeah.”

“
And…what about now? Do you still hunt here?”

“
Only if the foxes stray onto the land—disregarding the
warnings around the border.”

“
What!” I laughed aloud, rolling my head backward. “Last I
checked, foxes couldn’t read.”

“
Well, then they die,” he stated factually, then plonked down
on the blue-and-red chequered blanket, with his back against the
rock. “Don’t be shy.” He patted the spot next to him. “I won’t
bite.”

I
folded my arms, remembering suddenly why he really brought me out
here.

“
Come on, Ara. You know you wanna talk to me.” The arrogant
smile on his lips filtered through his voice. “You also know I’m
not going to let you go until you do—and no kitten-force kung-foo
is going to help you. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m a lot
bigger than you, petite fille.”

My
shoulders twisted until I faced him, my mouth gaping in reproach.
“What does
petite fille
mean?”

He
smiled to himself, looking down at his outstretched legs. “Little
girl.”

I
huffed loudly. “I am not a little girl!”

“
Good. Then stop acting like one. Sit down.”

I
want to sit there, so badly, but I’m afraid I might never talk to
him if I do, and I know they’re right—all of them…I…I do need to
talk. I have needed to for long time. But does it have to be with
him? All the reasoning with apprehension in the world can’t
convince me that he won’t hate me after he finds out what I truly
am.

David shrugged, then rested his hands behind his head—keeping
his smiling eyes on me. “I’ve got
all
day.”

With
a low huff, I sat down, cross-legged, about a metre in front of
David. There’s no way I can sit next to him—he’s just too gorgeous.
In fact, all I want now is to forget the reason I came here and
just enjoy the beauty of the lake while I rest my face against his
chest.

As I
distracted myself with my shoelaces—using the tips to trace the
white rubber sole of my Skecher—David waited, saying nothing. Is it
possible he has the patience of a saint, or is he falling asleep
waiting for me to talk? One thing I know is that time’s passing
around us, but I’m happy to let it go, because this is my last
moment of being just a girl to David. “I’m sorry,
David.”

“
Why
would you need to be sorry?”

“
I
think I might’ve given you the wrong impression about myself.” I
lowered my gaze. I don’t want to see his face when I tell him
this—the way any compassion will dissolve from his eyes, and that
look, the smile that seems to be reserved only for me, will vanish
into repulsion.

“
Ara?” He knelt up and held out his hand. “Don’t talk like
that. You are a very sweet and very kind girl.” He exhaled and
dropped his rejected hand. “I know something happened to your mum.
What does that have to do with the sort of person you
are?”

I
pressed my palms to my now cool cheeks and wiped downward as I
swallowed the tight lump in the back of my throat. The dark-haired
boy of my dreams shuffled forward, tracing my face with his emerald
eyes. I don’t want him to sit near me—not until he knows what I
did. My body took over for my voice, and he sat back against the
rock when I shook my head. “I just can’t, David. I’ve—” A jagged
breath supressed my tears. “I’ve lived with this for so long now. I
don’t know if I
can
tell someone.”

“
Ara, mon amour—” he said softly. “There’s an old legend among
my people that the tears one cries for loss, are the tears of the
broken. We call them the Devil’s Liquid because, for each one you
shed alone, you sacrifice a piece of your soul.”

“
What?” I sniffed and looked up at him. “I’ve never heard of
that before.”

“
Like I said, it’s an old legend.” He
reached for me then thought better of it. “They also say that for
each tear
shared
,
you give a piece of yourself for someone else to safeguard until
you’re ready to see the sun rise again.”

“
And
you…”Hot tears doubled my vision. I blinked rapidly. “You want to
be that someone?”

He
stared at me, his round eyes unmoving. “Ara, I
am
that someone.”

Only
a short sniffle passed before it all fell to pieces. “She shouldn’t
have been there, David.” I burst into tears, covering my face as
inaudible gusts of explanation dribbled through my lips. “She
should’ve been in her bed, sleeping.”

“
Your mum?”

I
nodded into my hands, hiding my shame. “It was my fault. I killed
her.”

“
How?” he asked with the deep, insistent tone of an
adult.

“
It
was late.” I swallowed. “I called her to come get me. I could’ve
walked home, but—I was crying, and—” I folded my shaking hands into
my lap and squeezed them tight. “It was so stupid. I’m seventeen.
I’m not a child. But, I wanted my mum, so I made her get out of bed
in the middle of the night and come pick me up.”

For
a moment, I stopped and looked at the lake. It’s just too pretty
here to ruin the tranquillity with my wretchedness.

“
Keep talking,” David ordered softly from across the
rug.

My
shoulders lifted as I inhaled. “I was playing peek-a-boo over the
seatback, with my little brother. He’d been sick for about a week,
and Mum had finally gotten him to sleep when I called. But she woke
him, put him in his seat and came to get me.”