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Wallet. Cash. Pocketed. High school ID card.
“Carey Olivia Banks 18 Moira Grammar school.”
She looked nice. Ash hadn’t really seen much of her face. It was pink. Afraid. He craved that look. Fear.
He pocketed the ID. There were some receipts and punch cards for a swimming pool and cafes. He tossed the rest. Behind the couch.
Ash didn’t care that he was mugging people. He had done it enough times and he knew just how to get away without being caught. Fuck ‘em honestly. They didn’t understand how hard life was for him. How he suffered…10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkQOrZvwItP
Loneliness. He had turned on the TV a few times.
“Where is Gunther?”
Ash finally answered this request.
“Well… Digi… I am afraid that he abandoned you…”
“What? Gunther would never do that… He said he’ll never leave me…”
“Well… Too bad… Life in Velmora blows!” Ash said.
Then Digi began to cry. A fucking TV box! Crying!
“Shut up! Shut up! Jesus!”
“I… I just cannot believe it…” Digi wept.
“Oh my god you are so fucking annoying…” Ash pulled the plug out. Digi fading again.
Alone.
Carey’s notebook. He flicked through.
“Lawrence is so cute. He bought me a coconut bun from the corner store. He remembered that it was my favourite - I think I only mentioned it once.”
Who the fuck is Lawrence? Sounds like an absolute tool. There was more about Lawrence but it made Ash cringe. It was so mushy.
He came across her VU application. Her mom had died? So what! She had a sister and dad. Well that’s more than what Ash ever had. Nobody. He didn’t need anyone.
She wanted to go to VU for musical theatre like some performing monkey! Weirdo… He tossed the thing out the window…
The notebook burst into a mess of pages. Wind carrying them away. Like a flock of birds freed.
Mr Rickson journaled often. A record of everything which happened. An entire bookshelf full. His memory faliable — as all are. Today may be remembered falsely ten years from now. At seventy-four, ten years were extras.
Mr Rickson arrived at the Banks apartment with two plastic bags of groceries. Chicken. Bell pepper. Broccoli. Eggs. White rice. Sweet and sour sauce. He knew that the girls had liked this recipe.
Lena smiled when her godfather opened the door. Carey peeked around the corner. Hesitant. She saw him and soon hugging.
“You’ll be okay Carey… Nothing bad will happen…” he said.
Lena looked different. Lighter. Like before. He was concerned that she was going down Jeremy’s path. Darkness. It tempted many innocent - rotting souls.
It was hard to control kids when they grow up and have their own desires. They talk as they know everything and cry as they know none. Taken back. Mr Rickson used to watch them after school. Back when the bookshop was closed for good.
He journaled this. As well his conversation with Arthur. Arthur near jumped out a window. On the next flight. Abandoning the case, risking his job, what was important was his daughters. Making it back by the evening. Holding. Squeezing Carey and Lena tight.
Arthur. Guilty. A kiss with his secretary when the call was made. Breaking a vow with his late wife. Till death does us part… They didn’t say that. Stress. The case in New Holden was tricky. Quick relief?
“Arthur… I see the way you look at me,” Jenna smiled. Biting her lip.
They stood in the corridor of the hotel. She was letting him in. A force pulling him into her embrace. A warm peach kiss.
“No… I’m sorry… I can’t,” he turned.
He had other things to worry about. Carey. Lena. Velmora going wild overnight. The Sevord Riots…
Mr Rickson journaled that the Banks seemed unsteady, yet loving. The spirit of their late mother pulling them together. God. He wanted to believe that. In that case… his son was watching from above too.
Early afternoon. Classes weren’t on.
Lena went to the wolf’s den. Ethan’s fortress dorm. She hadn’t met since yesterday. It needed to be done.
“Ethan?” She knocked on his bedroom door.
“You stay out of my life okay! You betrayed us enough… You left me and Dad. He fucking killed himself…” Ethan yelled on the corded telephone.
She opened the door. His eyes widened. Lena.
He stood up and looked at her. His eyes, red, tired, wet. Creases underneath. His perfection melting away.
“You left me back there…” He said.
“I - We need to talk, Ethan.”
He knew what this was. This girl. Leaving just like her.
“What is it?”
“I think we should break up…”
Ethan looked away. Then… He looked Lena in the eyes.
“Okay…” he said.
She stood there. She didn’t expect that to be so easy. Easy. Why?
He left the phone on the table. He put on his small wired headphones attached to his tape player. Stood out into the hallway and left. Lena.
Ethan…
“Hello! Hello!” The phone echoed from the receiver.
Lena curiously stepped into Ethan’s room and picked up the receiver. A woman was sobbing on the other side.
“Hello! God, Ethan… I’m sorry… I'm so sorry…”
It was a woman’s voice. Middle aged.
Lena breathed in.
“Ethan? You’re not Ethan…”
Lena cut the call slamming down the phone.
Ding!
END OF PART ONE
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