NINETEEN
“The zoo?” I ask, the iron gates and colourfully decorated signage dominating my vision. The kids bounce around in the seats, overstimulated and eagerly peering out at all the pictures of animals. AJ points out the ones he knows and TJ squirms to look out through the windshield. Casey’s got no idea what’s happening, but she gets into it with the boys, clapping and whooping.
“I haven’t been here for years. I used to love visiting the monkey enclosure with my nieces.” The confession, the little hint at his private life, thrills me. He’s offering me a part of himself that I wonder if Dax even knows about. Is he showing he trusts me?
“It’s been a while?” I ask, phrasing my words carefully. I want to ask about them, to ask why he doesn’t still go. Did they just get to the stage where they were too grown up to hang out with their uncle? But I also don’t want to sound pushy or intrusive.
“Eight years. My brother took them halfway across the country to live nearer his wife’s family,” he admits. The words sting for both of us. I hear his pain even though he’s being matter of fact about it.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“It happens. I see them a couple of times a year when I’m not working.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing. So, the zoo, huh? I hope you have eyes in the back of your head because these three are going to keep us both on our toes in there.”
“After the things I’ve been trained for, a couple of kids won’t be an issue.” Confident, he parks the car and warns me to stay with the kids until he returns with the tickets.
“You are on your best behaviour in here, you hear me?” The boys nod obediently, and Casey mimics the head bobbing, but she’s already wired. Just riding in the car is almost too much excitement for her. But, perhaps, if overstimulated, she might sleep well in a strange place later?
I need to wear the kids out, keep them safe, somehow contact Mum so she doesn’t panic about the kids, not to mention get back for my shift at Carlito’s later. Holy hell, how am I supposed to do it all? Do I even have a job there after today?
How many things have I ruined today? My home, my job, my hands, my relationship with my mother. I have a father I didn’t want and one I didn’t know. AJ’s emotional damage and burgeoning tendency toward self-harm are probably on me too. Dax and Aiden too—all the trouble I’ve caused them…
Fuck!
I can’t. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. There’s too much happening at once. Too many changes. Too many battles. I can’t fight them all—I can barely stand up. What do I do if Dad comes after me? Or Gresh? Or those bikers? Where can I even hide? Mum will take the kids to Carlo’s, but I can’t be there with them…not right now. Not that she even wants me there at all. So where do I go? Charlie’s? She can’t keep me for long and I’d never presume to stay unless it was an emergency…
God…does this count as an emergency? My whole life is fucked.
My hands are fucked. My chest feels fucked too. Tight. Too tight.
Why is it so hard to breathe?
I have a couple of hundred in savings, tucked in an envelope between my bed slats and my mattress. I should have got it out of the house earlier. It won’t be enough to pay for a room, at least not for more than one night. There’s no way it’ll stretch to rent and the two jobs I work won’t cover rent, utilities, and food. I’ll need another job or more shifts, but what about college? Shit. It’s too much. I need time. I need help.
I don’t have anyone. No one who can help with all this.
My god, my chest is heavy. Why is my throat scratchy? I can’t…I can’t breathe…
I…
My door opens, Aiden leans down. “Ready?” he asks, but as soon as he notices the look on my face, he crouches into a seated position at my side. “Breathe. Take in a breath…now let it out,” he coaches. I suck in and exhale each time he instructs me to. I feel like an idiot. A failure. I can take a slap, but I can’t handle the pressure of my own thoughts? What is wrong with me?
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Aiden answers. Clearly, I’ve done it again. I need to remember that thoughts stay inside my head. “This is all completely natural. Let it out in breaths,” he continues. “You have no idea of how strong you’ve been. This is just your mind’s way of coping. Did you freak out?”
“Yeah.”
He nods as if he’s been expecting it. Perhaps he has.
“You’re going to be okay. The kids are safe. Your mum and Carlo can take charge of the rest. You’ve been the responsible adult in that house for too long, but you can let go now. It’ll be alright.”
“Dad…Eric…”
“Eric is on his way to prison. There were enough witnesses in that room to see what he did, what he’s done, and what he planned to do.” Aiden strokes a hand over my hair and takes another exaggerated breath, reminding me to do the same. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
I can only hope he is right. There’s no way Dax or Aiden would allow him to get away with the kind of shit he pulled today. I lean into that thought and let it bolster me. I might have a stack of problems ahead, but Eric Feelan and his beatings are no longer one of them. I count out ten steady breaths and feel my chest ease.
Aiden smiles encouragingly. “I have a surprise for you. It is the other reason I brought you here.”
“Surprise? I think I am all surprised out, Aiden. I’ve had more than my fair share.” I try to laugh but the sound is off, and my smile is still a little strained.
“You’ll like this one. It will do you some good. Come on.” He reaches inside the car for my hand, lifting it from my lap and pulling me gently from the vehicle. He watches for a second or two to be sure I’m okay, then he lifts Casey out and hands her to me. The boys clamour out on their own. Aiden lifts Casey’s diaper bag and hangs the strap over his shoulder. The bag, second-hand, is a tattered mess of bright flowers and googly-eyed cartoon suns. Not the ideal style choice for his sharp suit.
“Not your first rodeo?” I nod to the bag on his shoulder.
“I wrangled my nieces. They were almost as well behaved as your little soldiers.” The boys puff out their chests and salute Aiden. He salutes back giving them cause to giggle excitedly. I can’t remember them ever getting the chance to play with grown-ups other than me or Mum. It makes my heart sing to watch him indulging them.
“Okay, lead on. This better be worth it or we will dump you at the monkey enclosure and leave you there. Right, kids?”
“Mumkey, mumkey, ass cream, ass cream,” Casey cheers. Aiden spins to face her, his eyebrows in his hairline.
“Did she just say what I think she—?”
“You want ice cream?” I ask, provoking her.
“Ass cream! Ass cream!” she yells loudly, slapping her hands together. Aiden roars with laughter and I can’t help laughing right along with him.
*
Who knew the zoo could be so much fun? Aiden, it seems, and he enjoys every second of it from what I can see. He gives each of the kids his full attention and seems to know exactly what to say or do to keep them engaged in each of the exhibits. We’d grabbed breakfast in the form of sausage rolls we could eat as we explored, learned that the monkeys were natural thieves, and the giraffes were the lookouts. The elephants used their trunks to spray us with water and the penguins were just pigeons wearing smart suits like Aiden’s. The boys love it, and Casey loves the energy. She’s talked more today than I’ve ever heard.
We sat down like a family in the restaurant for lunch and ordered whatever we wanted. Aiden even read out the menu for the boys which meant I had the honour of bursting a few bubbles when they tried to order dessert instead of real sustenance. We got a full plate of food each and I almost laughed when the twins stared in horror at the sheer amount of food there.
Even with that, Aiden seemed to understand, encouraging them to eat what they could and to stop when they felt full. I watched my hungry siblings gorge until they almost burst and then try to squirrel some of the leftovers into their pockets for later. Aiden requested to-go boxes for them and packaged up the remains without derision or judgement. Just constant reassurance that everything was okay.
He only left us for ten minutes and although the sternness of his expression spoke volumes, he didn’t say a single word about it for the rest of the day. The only time he shows how much he knows is when he catches me slipping into my own head. The number of times he reaches out to squeeze my hand or tap my nose or make other little physical connections is more than any other person has in my entire lifetime.
It’s no surprise that by the time we’ve finished gawping at the lions being fed, I’m sure I’ve fallen a little in love with Aiden Driscoll.
“Okay, time for a little competition,” he begins, and all three children turn away from the lions to hang off every word. “This time we are going to find out who can bounce Casey the highest. Sound good?” The boys nod. Casey looks a little worried. She is either way smarter than she looks or she’s tired.
“Bounce?” I ask.
“This way.” Aiden directs us to an indoor play centre for the kids. There are tons of activities and experimental play areas, the one he ushers us toward is the smallest. A tiny booth with a big wooden sign overhead painted in rich ochres and bright yellows. It reads The Lion’s Den. Aiden points at the door. “That is your surprise.”
I eye it warily. The sign on the door asks, Can you roar as loud as a lion? and explains that the small cramped space is a soundproofed chamber where you are encouraged to roar as loudly as you can and see whether you can beat the decibel levels of the animals at the zoo. Depending on how loud you are, you get a score and sticker printed for your efforts.
I don’t get it. How is this my surprise?
Aiden notices my confusion. His grin lights up the room, but it doesn’t explain a single thing going on in his head. “Ready to let off a little steam?” he teases.
Oh! He wants me to scream it all out? Actually, that sounds fun. “Here.” He hands me a small stack of coins. “Try to get a sticker for each of us. I’ll take the kids to the trampoline.” He points out another activity just across the way; a booth named the Kangaroo Leap. I figure what that’s for, bouncing Casey until she vomits. It’s open and easy to see the kids from outside the small trampoline area. No one can get to them, and I seriously doubt Aiden will let the kids out of his sight for a second. There are other families milling around too, so I’m not exactly leaving the kids alone with just Aiden.
As much as I might trust him with me, I would never trust anyone alone with the kids. Eric Feelan proved that not even their father can be trusted.
Glancing back at the booth, I try to work out how long I’ll be gone…a minute? Two at most?
“Okay. If she gets sick it’s your fault,” I tease. I hand Casey over to him and step into the booth, shutting the door behind me. A sound clicks and then the internal screens flash to life. A quick video explains what I have to do and once I feed the first coin into the slot, a countdown ticks on screen. As the ‘one…’ morphs into a bright green ‘go!’ I scream for all I’m worth, but as thrilling as it is to let it out, I still felt like I’m holding back.
The machine eats a second coin, and this time I roar. I roar for this morning, for Gresh’s almost-attack, for the fear I felt, for the argument with Dax, for the kids and they fact that I’ve torn them from their home.
The third coin pays for the anger, pain, and fear I experienced that night on the stairs. For the blood on my hands, for the life that nearly extinguished under my fingers, for the boy who lays in a hospital bed with an uncertain future.
The fourth coin pays for the hatred I have for my former father. The resentment I despise carrying toward my mother. For the poverty and the ugliness and the beatings that stood for my everyday home life.
The last coin I spend on me.
It isn’t so much a roar as the dying scream of a creature in pain. I scream for my past, for the brutality of my present, and for the hopelessness of my future. In my heart I’m convinced my life will become a carbon copy of my parents. I’m doomed to repeat their mistakes and I know it. I’ll never escape the Vale. I’ll never be more. I feel it so deeply that I’m already dying inside.
By the time I’m done, I have no more money and hardly any voice either. I step outside and lift the plastic cover of the sticker tray. Inside are five perfect, bright stickers. The first bears the image of a little golden Coqui Frog, then a Wolf, Howler Monkey, and a lion, respectively. The last sticker I tuck into my pocket just for me. I don’t even read it. Part of me isn’t ready to know.
Across the way, the children squeal and bounce so high they rival my volume in the booth. But their yells of excitement and pleasure are a beautiful contrast to my screams of pain.
Do I feel better? Yes. Did it help? A little, but it also grounded me.
Things are neither all right, nor good. I am knee-deep in shit I can’t understand, and now I have the kids to think about too. I need my head on straight if I want to get through this in one piece. I need to let go of everything that I have no control over and focus on the things I can do for the kids, Mum—though she doesn’t deserve it—and myself.
I casually saunter over and stand beside Aiden. “Having fun?” I ask, expecting to see his eyes alight at the mischief the boys are making, and the way Casey keeps running back to the middle of the trampoline and throwing herself down so that the boys can jump in unison and propel her into the wall of netting.
Only, Fun-Aiden is gone. His expression is cold. His eyes roam everywhere at once and his stance—how hadn’t I noticed it before?—is strained and tense.
“What’s happened?”
“Ready to get out of here?” he asks tersely, still refusing to even look at me. Have I done something wrong or are we still in danger?”
I don’t need the answer to handle this situation. I’ll to do whatever Aiden needs me to do. “Yes. I’ll follow your lead.”
He checks his watch. It is almost four. “The kids need to eat. You do too. Next stop is an eatery and then we need to get you to Carlito’s,” Aiden reels off, still refusing to look at me directly.
“Okay. I doubt any of us can fit more food right now, but we could order or get takeout? And I have to talk to Carlo anyway, but I doubt he’ll want me working at Carlito’s anymore. Plus, I can’t keep the kids at the bar, and I won’t leave them with anyone.”
“Sounds good. Let’s just get out of here.” I have the distinct feeling he didn’t even register what I said, which only makes me surer that something is wrong.
“Yo! Kids! Time to move your butts. Pizza?” I call. All three stop and look at each other with a myriad of expressions. AJ is suspicious, TJ overjoyed, and Casey confused, but they obey first time and run to our sides as Aiden takes each boy’s hand and leads us to the exit. I lift Casey onto my hip and dart out the door behind him. He walks fast, the boys barely manage to keep pace, they run in short bursts to make up the distance without falling behind.
We walk right past an empty space where, I swear, we parked the car earlier and instead climbed into a sturdy 4x4, resembling a tank more than a family vehicle, complete with those booster seats for the twins and toddler chair for Casey. I would ask questions, but Aiden urgently clips both twins into the back as I wrestle with Casey. As soon as we are all in, the engine turns over and we shoot out onto the main road and back toward Harrison Vale.
Aiden drives like the devil is on our tail.
Which can only mean he is.