Shattered Blue

The walk to town is usually really enjoyable. Overhanging the shortcut, a narrow dirt road that twists past an abandoned farm house, are ancient oak trees planted by European settlers way back when girls weren’t allowed to run rampant in forests and boys were scolded for sulking. My parents were actually city folk who wanted to break away from the chaos and dirt and iron trees and chugging monsters. But I grew up here and I feel as deep rooted as anyone else whose family has been here for generations.

The typically peaceful walk is however, taut with tension. Ant doesn’t say a single word, and only kicks at loose pebbles in his way. I walk a bit behind him feeling like an intruder upon whatever code of angry silence he has imposed upon himself.

“I’ve been to town so many times I’m sick of it,” he says suddenly without turning to face me. If he’s been there so many times then he’s been here longer than I thought. Maybe his excursions into the forest were his attempt to break away from whatever it was that plagued him. Sorrow about his father’s death? Or rather anger at the injustice of death that snatches away loved ones seemingly erratically.

“You’re quiet,” he remarks and my head whips up at the sound of his voice, jolted out of my morbid reverie.

“Sorry,” I mumble and then realise today’s purpose. I force darker thoughts from my mind and smile. “I know the town is small but have you really been everywhere yet? I know of a really cool place I think you’d like.”

“It better not be the library,” he says and smirks.

I shake my head and grin. “Don’t worry; this is much better than that under stocked excuse. Besides, farm children don’t read about adventures…”

I take the lead then and he follows me in silence although this time the silence is calm. The trees and dirt road ends and we emerge into the gentle light of the morning sun. I notice that there are no clouds in the sky today and I wonder if the river water is a bit warmer. The tarmac beneath my soles is warm as I pad across the relatively quiet road. Out of the corner of my eye I see Ant’s sneakers as we turn right onto the pavement. I smile and inwardly shake my head. City boy. At least wear sandals; it’s going to be hot today.

Small shops line this side of the road: we pass a deli where Ant lingers a bit before the enticing display of biltong and fresh buns. We pass a 7’eleven, a second hand book shop and a slightly upmarket but empty café that hasn’t attracted customers so early on a Sunday morning. The waitress, a petite blonde and an old classmate of mine, waves at me from inside while she sleepily sips at her usual cup of coffee. She suddenly notices Ant and straightens up but his eyes barely graze hers before they slide back towards inner musings.

I suddenly veer off into a short alleyway and enter through the only door available. Ant pauses to look at the chipped and peeling sign outside and grimaces before following me inside.

Ant sneezes and then mutters something below his breath.

It’s dark inside and coupled with the strong smell of jasmine incense I can imagine it’s a bit…stuffy to someone who isn’t used to it. But after the dark entrance hall we enter into a small room where light seeps in through a halfway open shutter. Quirky second hand clothes hang on a few beaded railings next to a shelf of candles and incense. We pass by a hat stand and a display case filled with vintage gloves and brooches. Below our feet is the soft touch of a faded Persian carpet. The same calm washes over me as when I step foot within the forest.

“Lisa?” I stage whisper in a conspirator tone. I hear the delicate jingling of tiny bells and she emerges as if from thin air at my elbow. From behind me I hear Ant draw in his breath as if surprised.

“Joe!” Lisa shouts and envelops me in a bear hug before letting me go and stepping slightly back. Whatever illusions Ant might have had about the owner of a typical gypsy shop might have just been shattered; Lisa has smooth chocolate brown hair taken up into a high ponytail. Her Parletones band T-shirt hangs over black leggings and her nails are painted neon pink which seems to float in the darkness. The only thing remotely related to her shop are her feather earrings and lack of footwear. She blinks at Ant for a moment and then flashes him one of her beautiful smiles.

“This is Anthony,” I gesture at his hulking frame behind us before looking back at Lisa. “And Anthony this is Lisa, this shop’s owner and the best sweets maker in the whole southern hemisphere.”

Lisa shakes his hand but Ant is deathly quiet and only gently murmurs a hello, his rough demeanour gone. I frown. It had slipped my mind how pretty Lisa is, even if she is in her mid-twenties.

Lisa laughs. “I’ve never seen you so worried looking Joe!” She winks at Ant. “Don’t worry; I won’t steal your man.”

I’m grateful I don’t blush. Ever. But that doesn’t mean my heart didn’t jump in my chest just now like an old woman being given a fright. I laugh off the feeling.

“He’s Gail’s nephew, I’m just showing him around.” The smile slips from Lisa’s face and I can almost see how her shoulders sag and her eyes darken. I force myself to smile. “So, I thought the best place to bring him first would be your shop and your stash of sweet gems.”

A smile tugs at Lisa’s mouth. “I made a new batch yesterday: liquorice ones. Hold on for a moment.” She disappears behind a beaded curtain but quickly sticks her head back out. “And this time you better have some hard cash on you; I don’t take I-O-U’s anymore.”

After she’s gone Ant turns to me and asks with lifted brows, “Sweet gems?”

“She makes those old fashioned homemade sweets. Don’t judge before you’ve tried one.”

Just then Lisa returns with two jars. One is filled with squares of fudge and the other is filled with black and white aniseed drops. She puts them atop her desk at the back and Ant and I move closer as she packs them out next to three other jars filled with an assortment of delicacies. Bright red cherry lollipops, crunchy peanut brittle and mint flavoured sweetie pies as big as my fist.

Ant gasps and moves closer to the jar with sweetie pies as his hand flies to his wallet. “How much are these?” as breaths out tapping the jar in question with one slim finger.

Lisa chuckles and tells him while I take out two lollipops from their jar along with a few aniseed drops. I place them in one of the brown paper bags available and wait while Lisa drops three sweetie pies, some peanut brittle and fudge into a packet for Ant whose face is glowing in a childlike manner as he eagerly takes the packet and hands a few notes to her. I quickly pay for myself before grabbing onto Ant’s shirt and tugging him towards the exit. Ant doesn’t even complain; his hand is folded tightly around his packet as he bites into a sweetie pie and moans.

“Thanks Lisa! I’ll come around again soon, take care!” I shout over my shoulder as we’re about to step outside.

Lisa flashes that smile again. “Bring him along anytime Joe!”

Outside it has become hotter and I look down forlornly at the last of my money wondering if I can buy a soda or some ginger beer at the deli. When I turn around to ask Ant if he wants something and hoping he says no his eyes go wide when he sees my stare but I can’t help it; he’s already on his second sweetie pie, the chocolate covered dream hovering before his open mouth and his eyebrows raised in quiet accusation as I keep on staring at him.

“What?” he asks.
I smile cheekily. “I never took you for having a sweet tooth.” He’s bulky but there’s no ounce of fat on him. What sports did he do back in the city? What is life like in the city. Suddenly I have so many questions but I force them back into a drawer and lock it.

“Look who’s talking sticky fingers,” Ant says before biting into the sweetie pie and grinning.
I realise that I have two aniseed drops in my mouth and one of my lollipops are perched on my lips, tightly clutched in one brown paw.

I snort and shrug. “Hey, do you want something to drink? I’m quickly popping into the deli…” Ant shakes his head and makes a shooing motion with his hand as he goes to sit down on a rickety old bench overlooking the road.

When I come back he’s staring at his last sweetie pie as he twirls it between his fingers. His playful mood is gone and his eyes are dark as he looks up at my approach.

“She was Daniel’s girlfriend.” It’s simple statement and all I can do is nod as I pop open a can of raspberry soda trying to pretend I hear his name so impassively every day.

Ant stands up and slips the sweet back into the packet without eating it. We start to walk back towards the lane and now I’m trying to blink back prickling tears as I force the suddenly too sweet liquid down my constricted throat.

“I guess you used to know him then since you’re close with Lisa,” Ant says after what seems like hours of silence even though we can still hear the occasional car pass by in the main road.

I breathe in deeply. “I guess you can say that. I used to be in love with him.”