Skeletal (16 page)

I scurried to the door. ‘Oh, course, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,’ I said, the words pouring out too fast but unable to stop them. ‘It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.’

He stepped around me toward the desk. ‘No, no, that’s all right. Just… stick to the lounge. I’m sure Vila will be down soon. Or, just pop upstairs to her room. Otherwise she can take a while. Make-up and… and… stuff.’ He waved his hand vaguely in a presumed demonstration of “stuff” then sat down at his desk without another look at me.

I walked back through into the lounge just as I heard Vila’s footsteps on the stair.

‘What’re you doing here?’ She asked. There wasn’t open hostility in her voice, but there wasn’t any welcome either. I felt fed up all of a sudden.

‘I wanted to see you, and talk about what happened to me the other night. In the park,’ I said with force. I hadn’t known I would say that until it came out, but when it did I realised it was true.

Vila paused on the stairs and looked down at her feet. ‘What about it? I had nothing to do with that. Ask Michelle if you want answers.’ As though she hadn’t disappeared from school.

‘I already know what Michelle would say. I already know Michelle’s part in it. I want to know what you knew and what you did.’

‘Yeah, well I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe next time you should ring before you just come around. It’s rude.’

She turned and started to stomp back up the stairs.

‘No problem,’ I yelled up after her. ‘I’ll just talk to your mother then, shall I?’

She was down the staircase and in my face in a flash. ‘Keep your goddamn voice down,’ she growled at me with low vehemence. ‘This is nothing to do with my mother. Piss off home. I don’t want you here.’

‘Oh Vila, why? Are we not
friends
anymore?’ My voice acid. And loud.

She glared at me for a moment, then grabbed my wrist and turned to go back upstairs. ‘Fine, then. Why don’t you come up and we can have a talk.’

She slammed the door behind me as I walked through and sat on her bed. There was a muffled exclamation from downstairs, and Vila yelled out ‘Sorry,’ and then came in and sat on her desk chair. She stared at me, and then sighed. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘You knew that Michelle was going to be there. You knew she was going to attack me.’

Vila looked down at the floor. She shifted on her seat. But she was already nodding her head before she stated, ‘Yes.’

‘How long before?’

A shrug.

‘Is that why you invited me?’

‘Yes.’

I felt growing frustration at the response. I breathed in, a deep breath, through my nose, and then let it out slowly between clenched teeth. ‘I was really hurt, Vila,’ I said. I tried to catch her gaze, but she kept looking down. ‘I’m not on the floor,’ I yelled out.

She looked up, her eyes locked with mine for a second, but then she turned to stare out the window instead. Her cheeks were turning warm red. Her neck was flushed. ‘I didn’t hurt you. I didn’t touch you.’

‘No, you just invited me to a party knowing that someone else would. And you tried to get me drunk beforehand.’

‘It’s still not on me. You should’ve known better than to go out. You must’ve known that Michelle was out to get you.’

‘I didn’t know that
you
were.’

She shook her head, but her neck flushed to a deep crimson. It was like an allergic reaction. An allergic reaction to facing up to herself.

I thumped my fist on the bedspread. The sound was muffled, the sheets wrapped up the blow and took it away, but the movement caught Vila’s eye and she jerked back.

‘Why didn’t you warn me? We were meant to be friends.’

‘It was just a prank,’ she yelled at me, all composure gone. ‘It was just a prank, and you should’ve known it was coming. You’re so
thick
sometimes, Daina!’

‘Is that what you want me to tell the police?’ I yelled back at her. ‘Do you want me to tell them that you tricked me into going, despite knowing what they’d do to me? What do you think they’d say about your prank?’

‘And what’re you going to tell the police? That someone stole your clothing in a park? What am I, accessory to a clothing heist?’

‘You’re an accessory to rape!’ I yelled, and burst into sudden hot tears.

Vila shook her head in disbelief. ‘That didn’t happen. She just kicked you a few times. You can’t say that shit – that’s serious.’

‘You left me unconscious in a park, naked.’ I stated, and stared at her in mounting fury. ‘
What the hell did you think would happen?
’ I yelled, and jumped up to shake her.

I wanted to punch her and kick her. I wanted to drag her down through the mud and make her pay. Instead I pushed her back into her chair and stood over her, my tears clogging up my ability to speak. Snot running down my face until I wiped it away.

‘You left me alone in a park with no clothes on, completely unconscious. How do you think I got home?’

Vila shook her head. Instead of being fascinated with the floor, she was fascinated by me. Her eyes wouldn’t turn away.

‘Who did you leave there?’

‘Nobody,’ she croaked, then cleared her throat. ‘Nobody stayed,’ she repeated. Then she turned her head slightly to one side as though an invisible being was whispering something to her. ‘Paul was hanging around at the entrance to the park. He thought someone should check on you.’

‘Yeah, well. He checked on me all right.’

Vila put her hands over her face. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she stated, her voice firm. ‘You were fine when I left,’ she added.

‘When you left me unconscious,’ I corrected.

‘It was just a prank,’ she said softly.

I felt so tired. All I wanted was to go home and get into bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten anything of substance. My stomach growled, and the pain felt like a low glow in my belly. ‘Why did you do it?’ I asked. My voice was low and flat. I didn’t even know if I wanted an answer anymore. I couldn’t trust anyone to tell me the truth.

‘I cheated on a maths test,’ Vila said in reply, just as I thought she wasn’t going to answer. ‘I cheated on a test and Michelle found out.’

‘When was this?’

She looked to the corner of the room, as if there was a slideshow of memory hanging there. ‘It was at mid-term. Just before. There’s an assessment that was worth 20% of the total mark. I couldn’t pass it on my own.’

‘You’re talking about April?’ I clarified, and she nodded.

‘So that’s the only reason you ever talked to me?’ I continued. ‘Michelle wanted you to be friends with me just so she could play a prank?’

Vila’s eyes widened. ‘No! God, no. She only told me the week before. I swear.’

I tried to read her, but I didn’t know anything anymore. No one was as they seemed. No one should be trusted. I nodded however, this was a way back in and I was conscious that I couldn’t break this down just because I wanted to kill her. ‘So why did you leave me. You could’ve come back later.’

‘I couldn’t. Michelle made me leave. She told me if we didn’t get out of there she’d really hurt you.’

I looked at her. The colour was starting to fade from Vila’s face. Her neck was returning to its usual warm brown. She met and held my eye. I could probably believe her. I wanted to believe her.

They’re not your friends. They’ve been lacing your food.

The thought carried so much weight that I swung backward before catching myself. Vila was still looking at me, so I forced a smile onto my face and nodded. Her expression filled with relief.

‘It was an awful thing to do. I’m so sorry. If I’d known…’ She trailed off as she didn’t know what it was she would have known.

I wasn’t about to fill in the details for her either. I’d talked about that once – never again. I held out my hand to shake. ‘Friends, then?’ I asked and she grabbed hold and gave me a shake and then a fist-bump.

‘Friends,’ she said. A smile lit up her face. ‘Would you like to stay for tea? Mum’s cooking about three times the amount we need at the moment.’

My stomach lurched. Hunger, or fear. I rubbed the middle of my collarbone where the nubby ends were now protrusive. Surely her mother wouldn’t…?

‘No thanks. I need to get home to Mum. She’ll be wondering where I am.’

The lie rolled out easily enough, but Vila’s small frown showed that it didn’t ring true. She let it go and tossed me a two-pack of Toffee Pops.

‘Have these then. You look like you haven’t eaten for days.’

I couldn’t remember if I had or not.

‘Do you want to do something together tomorrow, then? Maybe go to the mall?’

People. Crowds. Noise.

‘Sure, that sounds good. I’ll drop by at ten?’

She nodded. Her smile was now all teeth, and I had to look away.

As I walked through the lounge I saw the shadow of Mr Fa'amoe. He must be standing just outside his office door. Making sure that I left? My stomach lurched again.

***

The Grey Man fell into step beside me as I turned out of Vila’s street. There weren’t any words spoken until I turned into an alleyway that was a shortcut through to my road.

‘Hard, was it?’

I nodded and looked up at him. His face was hard to read. Closed off. I turned back to scanning the alleyway floor for broken bottles and twisted cans. When I was in standard two Jamie Sullivan had cut himself - through his
shoe
- on metal in an alley and had to get a shot as a precaution. I’d been hyper-vigilant ever since.

‘Tell me what you learned?’

‘I’m not cut out for this. That’s what I learned.’

There was silence in response. It dragged out so long that we almost reached the end of the alley, and then I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stopped, and he stopped next to me.

‘I looked in his office. There were papers and a briefcase.’

‘What was in the briefcase?’

‘How do I know?’

The silence again. It was uncomfortable, and mean. But then I didn’t know why I was reluctant to tell him. After all I’d forced myself to pry against my better judgement. Why wouldn’t I now tell him?

Because he’ll make you do more. Because he’s mixed you up with someone else, someone who could do this.

‘There were more papers. That’s all. More papers, and some sort of stain. From his lunch probably.’ I forced out a laugh, but there was no humour behind it. I wanted to go home. No. I wanted to feel
safe
. And where felt safe now?

‘What else?’

There was nothing else. There’d been nothing else I’d seen. But my mouth kept moving. Words kept forming. Information kept relaying. ‘The documents in the briefcase were different to the ones on his desk. His desk has something about the new vaccines for the ’flu season coming up. There’s also a summary of results from the first area to be vaccinated with the new MeNZB™ vaccine. Against meningitis. There were some bad reactions, but an estimate of a drop in expected meningococcal disease that far outweighed the side effects of the vaccine.

‘His briefcase had documents about chromosome structure. Or a particular chromosome structure.’

I rubbed my forehead briefly. It seemed like information had just been placed there by a foreign body. I understood the words I was saying, not in depth, but in principal, but as to how I kept forming sentences and saying them I had no clue. I thought of the knowledge rays in
Battlefield Earth
– the entire history of knowledge beamed into your head with no effort to learn – and wondered if there was something aimed at my brain right now.

‘What chromosome structure?’

I shook my head this time. But just as I was about to say
I don’t remember
I instead swung my bag off my shoulder and rooted around inside it. There was a small pad – an offering from a real estate agent, as though we’d ever be buying or selling property – and a pencil with the nib worn down.

No pencil sharpener, but I bit into the wood on either side of the lead and splintered off enough strips for me to be able to make a mark. I drew a quick sketch of two oblongs joined together; one long, one short. Referenced bands marked their way down the capsules.

I tilted the pad towards him, and he stared at it for a minute, two, not saying anything. Then he looked around us to make sure we were still alone, and flipped the paper over so that the drawing could no longer be seen. He nodded at my backpack, and I tucked the pad and pencil back inside.

‘What was the stain from?’

I frowned, and then brought up the image of the briefcase once again. The words,
I don’t know
were almost out of my mouth, when I closed my eyes and concentrated harder.

‘There was a small bottle, or vial, tucked into the top pocket. I could see the outline against the fabric. It had broken. Leaked. That was what caused it. The fabric was black so I can’t be sure, but I think that the liquid was blue in colour. There was a tinge of blue on one of the papers. It may have splashed it at some point.’