Chapter 3
Mum and I are walking beside each other along the main strip of town.
I’ve been working at a coffee shop just round the corner.
I just got my very first pay check and I want to spend it on her.
She does so much for me and works so hard all the time.
She deserves to be treated. So I went and bought her a bouquet of her favourite flowers - white roses.
We smile and laugh between ourselves.
Then a high-pitched alarm goes off.
The window of a jewellery store is smashed next to us, the shards landing at our feet.
Someone wearing a white theatre mask charges towards us. The thief barges into my mother, her white roses flying up over her head and landing on the concrete. I reach out to catch her, but she falls to the ground with a thud.
I hear the crack of her skull on the pavement.
I get down on my knees beside her. I cup her head in my hands and then there’s just red.
So much red.
Too much red.
How can someone have so much red spilling out their head? It’s on my hands and it’s on my face. It’s all over the street. It’s on her white dress.
It’s on the roses, those beautiful white roses.
When she wakes up she’s going to be so mad because she loves that dress and blood is such a bitch to clean.
She... isn’t breathing.
(It isn’t real)
“Mum!” I scream, but she doesn’t move. The masked people look at me with zero care. Part of me wants to run and kill them with my bare hands. But her blood is on my hands and I can’t stop it from spilling out onto the pavement. It’s wet and sticky in a way that’s truly revolting.
(It’s okay, it’s not real)
Tears spill from my eyes as golden hour sun fills the street.
(None of it’s real Noah)
I’m trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.
(It isn’t real. I know it feels real. I’m so sorry)
“I’ll phone an ambulance, Mum, I—”
(This is just a dream, Noah. Please wake up)
One of the masked people stare at me while I hold my dying mother in my arms. They are rushed along by one of the others, their voices inaudible to me.
“Fucking help me! Someone! Anyone!” I scream at the top of my voice, but no one comes.
“Mum you can’t do this, you can’t. Please, I’m begging you. Just get up! You’re fine, you’ve just had a bad fall.”
She went down so fast, I couldn’t catch her. Why couldn’t I have just caught her? Why did I have to be so slow?
“Mum?” I whisper as bloody tears spill down my face.
I wake up screaming. Kai is shaking me awake.
“What the fuck Noah?” He asks, his face ghost white. “Are you okay?” He asks, a hand still on my shoulder. My eyes adjust and I remember I’m in his spare room.
“I’m okay… I just…” I begin but my eyes are already wet. Whimpers escape me before Kai pulls me into a hug.
“It’s okay… you’re okay,” he whispers as I sob into his arms. This isn’t the first time he’s had to do this. I can’t believe I let him go.
“I still get nightmares,” I tell him, my heart threatens to burst out my chest. I’m getting tears all over his neck, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I rub my angel necklace with my thumb, hoping it calms me down.
“You’ll be okay, I know it’s hard right now but you’ll be okay. You’re so brave coming back here and you know what? I’m proud of you.” I continue crying into his arms for a while.
We’re on our way to Harry’s surf shop. It’s on the beach front next to a beautiful restaurant called Piran’s Garden.
We stroll through a cobblestone street. People are having their lunch with their legs dangling over the small river to our left.
Friends are catching up and there is a photographer taking candid street photos.
I love to people-watch in Perrancombe, there’s always something interesting going on.
Piran’s garden has a wall filled with graffiti. It’s a beautiful display of colours and complicated shapes, with the sunlight amplifying the saturation of the colours. Kai is especially fascinated with the display.
“Every time I walk past here I can’t help but stop and look at it,” he says once we stop to admire it.
“Did we ever find out who the artist was?” I ask, hoping that maybe while I was gone someone had come forward and owned up to it. For all these years it’s been here and no one has ever come forward.
“Nope. But how cool would that be?” Kai says, taking a picture on his phone, even though he must have a dozen just like it.
“So when did you get into painting?” I ask. Kai’s lips move into a thin line while they think of an answer.
“Well, I started going to therapy for a few things. The first thing they tried with me was art therapy. And ever since it’s just been my secret obsession.”
“Secret?” I ask as we begin to face each other. He fixes the hair that has fallen over his face.
“Well yeah. I haven’t really told anyone,” Kai says quietly. He starts looking at anything but me and I can’t help but press him further.
“Really? But it could be in art galleries! It’s really good. Why don’t you believe in yourself?” I ask, realising quickly that the last bit might have been a bit much? I genuinely believe that he could get their artwork into a gallery.
“Noah, it’s not that I don’t believe in them. They’re okay. It’s just… not everything needs to be for profit. This is personal. I don’t want to show it off to everyone, you get me?”
“Ah yeah, sorry, I get it man,” I reply. He’s right. I need to stop saying the wrong thing all the time.
We begin walking, but my eyes scan the artwork again and I see part of the display is covered with another artwork that simply reads: The Bronze family.
There’s a small picture next to it that looks like a hand grabbing a diamond.
Kai spots the graffiti in the corner and mutters under his breath, “Assholes.”
“What’s that doing there?”
Kai makes a disgusted sound and says “They’re assholes. All they do is steal shit from small businesses and cause mayhem. They’re a nuisance,” Kai says, kicking a stone under their shoes.
Something within me bubbles up. Anger? Resentment? I’m not sure. I’m opening up my mouth before I even know what I’m going to say. “Have they ever killed people?”
“Killed?” Kai asks, surprised. “No. They’re not that kind of group. They’re just annoying at best - well worse I suppose.”
“Just wanted to make sure.”
“Crime families like the Bronze Family don’t do a lot of damage to normal people like you and me unless you own a business, I guess,” Kai explains, rubbing his temple with a sigh. My brain thinks back to the day my mother died. Could it have been the bronze family? A robbery turned deadly?
“What about Mum? It was people in masks stealing from the jewellery shop that murdered her. Could it have been the bronze family?” I ask, my voice shaky. Just talking about it makes me want to throw up.
“I’m going to be honest with you, it was probably them.
The police have tried tracking them down for years but not a single soul knows who they are.
It could literally be anyone in this stupid town,” he explains, his posture stiff.
He crosses his arms as we continue looking at the graffiti. It begins to make my stomach turn.
We drop the conversation and head into Harry’s shop.
His shop feels like home. I remember us doing homework while their parents worked.
We used to take the piss out of Harry when he was first trying to learn the business.
His voice used to crack a lot as he hit puberty, so when he spoke to customers we couldn’t help but laugh at him.
But then our voices began to change too.
The walls are lined with colourful surfboards and wetsuits. It’s a sight to behold and one I’ve missed. I can’t help but smile. My heart aches at the thought that my Mum isn’t here, though. She should be here. This isn’t fair. This isn’t—
“You alright Noah?” Harry asks, his face warm and welcoming.
It’s a face that makes you want to break down and spill all your feelings onto the counter.
Honestly though, if I started, I don’t think I would be able to stop.
Part of me doesn’t want to. I just want to lie down and tell him everything that’s happened.
I don’t want to put all that on them. It’s a vicious cycle. And I’m sick of it.
“Yeah, man, I’m okay,” I say, smiling at him. I’m good at lying to people. It makes my mouth dry, like it’s trying to stop me from lying, but I do it anyway. I think it’s easier to lie than to say how you really feel.
“You’re sure?”
No.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I reply with such enthusiasm it makes me want to die.
I browse the boards and wetsuits. I see a red board with a black and red wetsuit to match. That’s the one I pick.
“You know the drill, man.” He stops as I begin to take my wallet out. “Mate, put your wallet away.”
“But I—”
“No. I’m not taking any money off you. When you get a job, then we can talk. I want you to find your feet first, okay?” He said with a serious look on his face.
“Thanks, Harry. I really appreciate it,” I say, putting my wallet back in my pocket. “Do you have any jobs going?”
“I can’t even afford to light the place, never mind pay someone else. You’re better off looking elsewhere, trust me,” he says, his eyes trailing off.
“That bad, huh? I had no idea,” I say, my heart beating faster.
This place was Kai’s families’ dream. They spoke about it a lot when we were growing up.
My Mum actually gave them a donation to help open the place when the opportunity finally came.
I had my first sip of alcohol to celebrate when they bought the place - Kai and I stole it when they all went to bed.
It was a bottle of red wine that was a quarter full.
We took a couple of sips and passed it back to each other.
We stayed up all night whispering about what we wanted to do with our lives.
What we wanted to be when we grew up. I had no idea back then how hard life would be.
Innocently, we dream of being older, but when it arrives, it just makes you want to kill yourself.