The Shattering (33 page)

I'll tell you something else, though: The tourists still came this summer. Not nearly as many as usual, and they weren't so keen on the fancy hotels, which worries Mum, but they came. And people are moving
into
town, too — outsiders who want to make a life here, people who are here to stay. What Daisy and that lot did was such a waste in so many ways. I don't think the town will die. I don't think it was ever going to.

But if it does, that's ordinary and natural, too.

I am really keen on
natural
.

It took months before Sione and Janna and I were all together again. It was Valentine's Day of the year after, and we were all getting damp. The rain was the sort of warm mizzle that slicked down my hair and turned Sione's into a fuzzy halo lit up with tiny droplets. We wandered down the Summerton beach, poking at the sodden remnants of the New Year's Eve bonfires.

No Beach Bash this year. People made their own entertainment.

Takeshi wasn't with us. Aroha was. I thought you probably couldn't get her off Sione with a crowbar, and he wouldn't let anyone try. They were really cute, in a sickening way. Even Mrs Felise approved, though that might just have been relief that it wasn't Janna.

Sione was the first to break the silence. He'd grown a lot, and not just in his suddenly lanky body. He was a church youth group leader now, and Aroha said the younger kids adored him.

‘I had another dream about the fire,' he said.

Aroha squeezed his hand.

‘I wish we could have saved more of them,' he said.

‘I don't,' I said. I knew I probably should.

‘I remember the sound of the flames,' Janna said. ‘Like a truck going past on the highway, only it went on and on.'

‘And the smoke,' Aroha said. ‘I washed my hair three times to get the smell out.'

I didn't want to talk about the fire. It was dead and done, and the murdered boys were set free. And we had lives, to make as bright as we dared.

‘How's Takeshi?' I asked.

Aroha stole a glance at Janna, who was looking deliberately unconcerned. ‘He's okay,' Aroha said. ‘He thinks he's got a good chance of getting into the University of Tokyo, or maybe Waseda.'

‘That's good?'

‘That's pretty much the best.' She hesitated. ‘He doesn't talk about what happened. I think he's convinced himself it turned out the way the official version said. A lot of noise and confusion.'

‘He has,' Janna said, sounding a bit sad. But not very. I didn't think she was cut out for long-distance relationships anyway. ‘Still. I bet he makes it into space.'

‘Me too,' Sione said, but not as if he were paying that much attention. He was digging a scar into the wet sand with his foot, and Aroha was watching him and frowning, obviously aware of what was coming next. ‘Um. You remember Tarquin?'

After a second, I did. Hard name to forget. ‘The guy in your therapy group? His brother was one of the victims, right?'

Sione kept his feet on the ground. ‘Yeah. So. I told him about it. About the magic. And that most of them died, the people who killed his brother. I thought he'd want to know.'

I took a panicked breath, ready to yell. We'd all agreed that no one could ever know, that no one would ever believe us, that they'd think we were sick kids playing a sick joke on families who had already suffered too much. And if I was really unlucky, they wouldn't think I was lying. Instead they'd call me crazy, prescribe me antipsychotics, get me committed — Janna's hand clamped down on my arm, and I took a deep breath, forcing calmness back into my body, using the techniques Ms Wirihana had taught me to slow down the dizzying swirl of dire predictions.

‘How'd that go?' Janna asked calmly, and Sione managed to meet her eyes.

‘Not that great,' he said. ‘I think . . . I think I made it worse. He didn't believe me — why should he? I don't have any proof. But I made him doubt, and he hates that. You were right.'

‘I don't know about that,' Janna said, and I hitched in another breath, this one of surprise. ‘I think . . . if people can handle it, they have a right to know. I've been wondering. We've still got all those contact details. Maybe we should do some more work, check out the families, find out who could accept the truth.'

‘Who's going to decide that?' Aroha asked. ‘Us?'

‘Who else is there?' Janna said.

‘There's Rafferty,' Sione said. ‘I know you guys hate him. But I don't, not really. He didn't know, and when he did, he tried. I could find him. He could explain; more people would believe him than us.'

‘No,' I said, unable to believe we were even talking about this. ‘Just . . . no. No way.'

‘We should make sure he knows not to talk to them if it would make the families feel worse,' Janna said slowly, hand still on my sleeve. ‘I can't tell my parents — it's been too long, and they don't believe in magic. But we can't keep it from the families if there's good reason to tell, either. None of those boys left a note. No one who loved them knows why they died. Wasn't that the worst thing, for us?'

She let go of my arm just before I would have yanked it free, and I turned away from their silence, walking a few steps toward the grey sea. The wash of waves onshore felt like the churning in my gut. I stared at it for a long time, thinking about Jake, about Matthew and Schuyler, about Sergeant Rafferty, who had tried, too late, to do the right thing.

‘Yeah,' I said at last. ‘Not knowing is the worst. Let's . . . let's see, okay?'

‘Okay,' Janna and Sione said in unison. I could feel them at my back and knew that they wouldn't move on this until I was ready. Friends were good like that — they could make you do hard, necessary things and support you while you did them.

The silence stretched, and I hunted down another conversation topic before turning to face them, casually beginning to walk again. ‘Janna, did you hear that Patrick Tan's moving to Christchurch for uni?'

Janna fell into step beside me. ‘Yeah, he sent me an e-mail. It said, “I'm coming to your city, you treacherous bitch.”'

‘Nice,' Sione said, raising an eyebrow.

‘Oh, that's a lot nicer than some of the stuff he said after the Bash,' Janna said. ‘He'll probably forgive me in a decade or two. Anyway, he's giving me a ride back to Christchurch tonight. We're talking about finding a drummer and another guitarist. Maybe putting Vikings back together.'

‘Anything else getting back together?' I tested.

‘Ha bloody ha,' she said, but I noted the secret tilt of her smile and stored it away so that I could say ‘I told you so' later. ‘How's
your
love life?'

There was a girl who waited in the therapist's office for the appointment after the one after mine. She had a rainbow-flag badge stitched onto her bag. So far, I knew her name was Marama, that she was a swimmer, that her parents were divorcing and thought she needed therapy to adjust, and that she had the most gorgeous dark brown eyes I'd ever seen. She'd promised to e-mail me. ‘Nonexistent,' I said, and hoped the water in the air would cool my heated cheeks. The rain obligingly picked up, turning from drizzle to a warm downpour. ‘Let's go back.'

‘Race you,' Sione offered, and ran, stretching his long legs. I think he let me beat him, but I'll take victory where I can find it. I skidded through the front gate a body's length ahead of him, laughing, and almost crashed into my mother.

She looked at me like I was the sun coming up, her eyes mist ing over.

‘Oh, Mum,' I said, and hugged her. ‘I'm going to miss you so much.'

‘I was just coming down to get you,' she said, and squeezed back. ‘The Felises want to get away before dark. Now, if you forgot anything, just give me a ring, okay?'

‘I will.'

‘Auckland's so far away.' Mum sighed. ‘Keri, are you
sure
?'

I was. Sione was going to the University of Auckland too, where he'd study Statistics. Aroha had a year of high school left, but she was planning on applying to the School of Engineering. I wanted people around me who knew the truth of what had happened.

The advantages of boarding with the Felises instead of staying in an Auckland uni dorm were many. For one, my parents were much happier about my staying with one of New Zealand's best psychotherapists while I did my first year in Physical Education. For another, I could take much more of my own stuff up.

The disadvantages included having to
pack
all my own stuff, but I'd managed it. The hospital staff had cut my favourite jeans off me when they patched me up; those were truly gone now. But I'd kept the last T-shirt I'd given Jake, the one that had tripped me and broken my arm — the one that had ultimately given me the weapon that had won us victory. It was tucked into the bottom of one bag.

I still couldn't agree that Jake was in a better place. But now I could believe that as long as I lived to remember him, he would be with me.

I looked at the street and the people standing there. Dad and Mr Felise were shaking hands in farewell, while Sione's mother asked Aroha something and laughed at her reply. Janna and Sione were loading the last of my boxes into the Felises' massive 4wd, bickering over whose city would be the site of our next meeting.

How had my family's getting smaller led to its getting so much bigger?

‘I'm sure, Mum,' I said, and hugged her again, squeezing extra hard with my twice-broken arm.

I didn't know what my future would hold.

I was ready for it.

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Hi, I'm Karen Healey, the author of the book you've just read.
Thank you! I appreciate it, and I appreciate you, and I want to say something really important.

If you feel suicidal, or suspect that someone you know might harm themselves, please consider getting some help before making an irreversible decision.

In Australia and New Zealand there are many great resources. The following pages contain a few that were available at the time of writing.

There's also the international It Gets Better Project (
www.itgetsbetter.org
). Prompted by a number of suicides of bullied gay and lesbian teens, this project is dedicated to demonstrating to kids in danger that life gets better, and that the future can be wonderful. Although it's directed at lgbtq youth (since they are, as a group, more in danger of suicide), the message here is important for everyone who's being bullied or mistreated, and can't see the hope of a better tomorrow. It's possible. I promise.

Please look after yourself, and those around you.
Sincerely,
Karen

AUSTRALIA

Kids Helpline

www.kidshelp.com.au

1800 55 1800

24 hour, free, confidential counselling

for people aged 5–25, at any time,

for any reason.

Lifeline Australia

www.lifeline.org.au

13 11 14

24 hour access to support systems and

resources. You can call Lifeline

on your own behalf or on that of others.

Beyond Blue

www.beyondblue.org.au

General resources to help cope

with a wide range of mental

disorders and illnesses.

NEW ZEALAND

Lifeline New Zealand

www.lifeline.org.nz

Within Auckland: 09 5222 999

Outside Auckland: 0800 543 354

Free, professional, and confidential helpline, 24 hours a day.

Includes KIDSLINE (0800 543 754) for those 14 and under and

CHINESE LIFELINE (09 522 2088) within Auckland, 0800 888

880 outside Auckland) for Mandarin and Cantonese speakers.

0800
WHAT
's
UP

www.whatsup.co.nz

0800 942 8787

Free, professional telephone counselling for people aged 5–18.

Available 7 days a week, from noon to midnight.

Rainbow Youth

www.rainbowyouth.org.nz

An Auckland-based organisation providing support,

information, advocacy and education for queer

young people and their families.

GLOSSARY

SAMOAN

Fia palagi:
A negative term, applied to a Samoan who is seen to be favouring a foreign lifestyle, abandoning their Samoan way.

Ie faitaga:
Formal wear for men — a long wraparound skirt with pockets, usually made of a dark suit material.

Lavalava:
A more casual wraparound, worn by men and women. Usually made of lighter, more colourful material. Keri misidentifies Sione's ie faitaga as lavalava.

Palagi:
Non-Samoan, especially those with of primarily white European ancestry.