Forgotten (27 page)

I made my
way to the front end of the balcony. A concrete rendered wall,
tapering lower towards the balcony end, bordered my
neighbor,
Mr. O’Flanaghan. It was only a
few feet tall and quite climbable. Once over, I hurried to the
slider. I tapped on the door several times before a baffled Mr.
O’Flanaghan appeared.

He
slid the door open. “Claudia,” he remarked.
“What is going on?”

“I need your help,” I pleaded. “I need it
now.”

December 27, 2010

12:15 pm

ONCE I
HIT
the back street, I ran.

Not caring in which direction I went.

I ran
without pausing, allowing the tepid breezes to cool my hot, moist
skin, allowing every rhythmic beat of my feet to take me further
and further away from Zephyr. In time, a throb began to ravage my
calves but I didn’t stop. Pain began to seep into my over-taxed
lungs but still I ran. It felt liberating, cleansing, damn
good.

Eventually,
after much time, my doggedness began to subside; my lungs were
screaming for stillness and my legs crying for rest. I stopped,
bent over, my hands on my knees and concentrated on several, long
deep breaths. When I straightened, I slugged water from the bottle
that Mr. O’Flanaghan had given me. I then inspected my
surroundings.

I wasn’t
sure how long I’d been running, or the exact distance I’d covered,
but judging by the small, weatherworn houses, an older, less
expensive section of the township, it was clear I’d traveled a fair
way.

I trekked
past the almost identical homes, many appearing as if they hadn’t
seen a paintbrush in decades. Rusty old cars laced the makeshift
driveways along with other discarded items. Dogs barked, children
squealed, all looking as unkempt as the dispirited fences
surrounding them.

In one such place, a man, burly, brusque,
beer in hand roared to the playing children to keep the noise down.
He caught sight of me staring. He waved his arms around and
bellowed, “What are you looking at, bitch?”

I dropped my
head and pressed forward until any dwellings thinned to near
non-existence, until I stumbled upon a section of overgrown
shrubbery. In the distance, I spotted a tiny wooden
building.
As I approached it, I noticed
it was abandoned, and judging by its pitiable condition, I was
guessing for some time.

Nearby,
a
neglected bench sat beneath some less
than healthy bougainvillea. However, the shade the plant created
was more than adequate. I sat down cautiously at first, in case the
bench collapsed. I took another sip of the now warmed water and
breathed a deep sigh.

I took a moment to bathe in the faint,
earthy smells of the dry bushland, the charming songs of the
magpies and the peaceful sights of solitude. It felt so good, I
began second-guessing what I had really come to do.

To let go of
Simon…
finally
.

The terror
of unleashing those long-sealed memories of him began to weigh
heavily on me. And I could sense my itching feet prepare to run
again.

We could uncover some pretty unpleasant
things
, Saul had said.
So you need to deal with
it
…
no running, no hiding
.

Just the
thought of Saul conjured up many pleasant, long forgotten feelings
in me. I wasn’t stupid, though. Those feelings could’ve been
nothing more than my confused reactions to someone providing an
empathetic ear during a troubled period. Combine it with a body
that for so long had lacked a man’s touch and the science was
simple. Whatever it was, I knew I didn’t want to disappoint
him.

No running, no hiding…
no more.

Before fear
could change my mind, I quickly drew up my legs and wrapped my arms
around them, resting my chin on my knees. I shoved aside the
nagging panic and closed my eyes. I then traveled back to the
surreal scene I had with Simon in my unit. In doing so, I allowed
the darkness of him, the part closeted deep within my conscious to
break free.

A thousand
repressed images scattered through my head. Visions of our first
kiss, our first fight, the first time we made love, each one vying
for a spot that had been off limits for over fourteen months. It
was so hard, so painful. Many times, my survival instincts
threatened to kick in… to re-draw those barriers yet again. But I
kicked back.

This time, I had to.

Through it
all, I
wept. I stopped. I wept some
more.

And there in
those isolated ruins, in the wilderness of my own desolate mind,
there was no one to hear me, no one to comfort me, no one to take
my pain as their own. I felt it, I bore it, I held it.

Alone.

Time
passed.
Much time. Until my tears ran
dry, my throat felt scalded and I was left feeling spent, almost
crushed. I slumped back, my eyes still sealed, drawing in the
countrified air.

Healing
.

I wasn’t so
naïve as to think that freeing up some imprisoned memories,
shedding some tears was automatically going to make
everything
better. The residual pain was
huge. But to my surprise, I discovered it to be bearable. I began
opening my eyes.

I had once heard that a person could be born
many times in their life, not just their initial physical birth,
but also a mental resurgence, a resurrection of a life half-dead.
Whilst I was never one to examine such philosophies, as I saw my
new world for the first time, I silently gave merit to some of its
less extremist ideas.

The world
facing me appeared different, sharper, more vibrant. And
extraordinarily, so did I. It was as if someone had just changed my
normal screen setting to high definition. I laughed, either at the
wonder of it, or at the fact that I had at last reached the
frontier of my insanity.

Either way,
I felt this remarkable sense of altered calm. It was as if a white
flag had been drawn, declaring one battle over
.

I
wasn’t sure how long I would feel this way, but
not wanting to tempt fate, I immediately set to work. I honed in on
Simon once more, and was pleased to discover that this time I could
so without sinking into a quivering mess.

Ask the question,
he kept
repeating.

But
what
question? I grimaced at the thought
of separating one question from the amount that plagued me on a
daily basis. But my mind whirred on, eventually wondering what had
generated the whole Simon experience in the first place.

I went back to when Saul and I had first
arrived at Zephyr. We had entered the unit. I failed to notice its
orderly state. My attention was on Saul. He was admiring my home.
I, in turn, was admiring him. There was that brief interlude where
I thought we had exchanged something, something more intimate. But
he had moved away.

Did the question lie there?

I could certainly think of many, but none
that would warrant Simon’s urgency.

I pressed on.

I had
noticed the unusual cleanliness of the kitchen, the bathroom. For a
second, it reminded me of a movie I’d once seen where the
psychopathic husband arranged things, like towels, in perfect
order. I shuddered that someone similar to him could be at work
here. I then wondered why anyone would go to so much effort to
duplicate a scene from so long ago. Was Saul right when he assumed
it was designed to send me over the edge? Did someone hate me that
much?

Naturally,
it disturbed me.
What disturbed me more
was the sheer accuracy of the crime, right down to the exact color
of the rose petals, the lateral position of the body, the uplifted
arms and the overlapping hands
.

And that’s when it hit me.

The question.

A question that had only one answer.

I leaned back, stunned, not knowing whether
to laugh or cry. More importantly, if my theory was right then the
implications were enormous.

Shit.

I had to
tell
Saul. I stood up and collected the
water bottle off the ground. I scanned the mangled scrub beyond, to
the cloudless sky above. A faint breeze appeared, brushing my skin,
its feather like touch lingering for a time, whispering noiseless
words. It could’ve just been the mental zone I was in, but I had a
strong sense that it was Simon.

I used the
opportunity to make a promise to my invisible guest, a very
important promise.
One that I was
determined to keep no matter what.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

The
extraordinary presence hovered for a while before eventually
vanishing amidst the playful
gusts. I
heaved a soulful sigh, knowing I had one more thing to
do.

I
wriggled my spread out fingers, allowed the
white diamond on my engagement ring to seize the light for the last
time. Fiery sparkles exploded from it and I smiled. It was so
striking, so perfect. With a tight lump in my throat, I pulled it
off. I carefully placed the ring into the back pocket of my skirt
and zipped it closed.

I was now ready to return.

***

I made my way out of the bougainvillea
enclosure and back onto the road.

With sudden
dread, I realized I was a long way from nowhere; no mobile phone;
no wallet, nothing to help me with a quick return. At this stage,
there was little else to do except walk.

I glanced at
my watch, something I hadn’t done since I had left. I was shocked
to discover that it was almost four-thirty. I had been gone for
well over four hours. With the sun beating a kinder heat, I hiked
down the empty road. Just as I approached the outskirts of
civilization, an aged utility appeared, headed in my direction. It
pulled up beside me.

A thickly
bearded man called out to me from his down-turned window. He was
wearing a grubby looking cap twisted sideways on his head. His
crinkled skin depicted someone who spent long, unprotected hours in
the sun. “Are yer Claudia Cabriati?” he asked, in a deep, abrasive
voice.

Naturally, I
had no idea who the man was or how to respond. He must have spotted
my indecision.

“
I’s bin
lookin’ for yer, or should I say Saul Reardon has. He’s bin mighty
worried, lady.”

I squinted, still reluctant to venture too
close. “I guess he would’ve been a little concerned.”

The man scoffed. “A little concerned? Hell,
lady, he has had at least a half dozen folks on the streets
scoutin’ for yer.”

I was puzzled and rightly so. “Why would
Saul have done that? I just needed some time out.”

“
Beats me,
lady. I’s just doin’ what I’s been asked. Now are yer gettin’ in so
I can get yer back?” He stretched his bulky body over to the
passenger side, grabbed the handle and flung open the door. Once
again, I hesitated. Once again, the man noticed.

“
Listen,
lady, I’s not hangin’ here all day while yer makes up yer mind.
Alls I know is I’s instructions, find yer, get yer back. I mean, if
it weren’t for that fella back there, who told me he saw some chick
wanderin’ up this way several hours ago, I wouldn’t even have come
this far.”

I bet I knew
which
fella
he was referring to.

The man
paused as if considering something. “I tells yer what; I’ll just
give Reardon a call and put it on speaker. So yer can hears the
conversation, okay?”

Seemed a fair compromise. I watched him
finger a number into his car phone. Before long, I heard the voice
I had come to know so well, a voice that clearly indicated
stress.

“Reardon.”

“
Hey, mate,
its Jacko. I haves her.”

“
Is she
okay?”

Jacko’s eyes rolled over me once. “Looks
pretty good to me.”

Silence… then, “Did she say what
happened?”

“Yeah, somethin’ about needin’ time
out.”

More silence, and then a modified tone; not
a good one.

“
Ok, Jacko,
we’re still parked behind Zephyr. Just bring her there. And can’t
thank you enough, really appreciate it.”

Jacko gave
me a sideways glance, “No worries. For yer anytime.” And with that,
he signaled off. His head turned towards me, brows raised, a sneer
hanging of the corner of his mouth. “Well, lady, yer gettin’ in
now? Or ifs yer prefer yer can sits in the back.”

It took only
a cursory peek to make out the disheveled rummage in the rear of
the truck; crab pots, buckets, fishing lines and a pungent, very
off fish odor. I returned to Jacko, heaved my body into the huge
vehicle and strapped myself in. Jacko U-turned and began heading
back.

“Were you serious about the people looking
for me?” I was trying to make conversation.

Jacko
grunted, pulled a lone cigarette from the pocket of his shirt. He
sloped to one side, grabbed the car lighter and lit it. “Don’t
jokes about things like that. Lots of them good people, yer know,
spendin’ their afternoon, lookin’ for yer.”

I shook my
head in dismay. Jacko had his smoking arm leaning on the opened
window, the breeze sending a constant stream of cooling air and
nicotine into the vehicle. I tried not to cough.