Status: Re-uploaded for colibri 20/09/12.
No Room for Ghosts
II
I crossed over the bridge, making my way down to the Harbour proper. I followed the piers and quays until they fell away, and the waves beat out a cove that curved around to meet the ocean.
The tide was coming in along the wide, flat beach. It would be ice-cold, I guessed, in the still, chilly moonlight, but I dared not dip my toes in it to find out. Like cool glass, it rippled out over the unspoiled sand, smoothing itself into a mirror for the lingering clouds, and foaming barely. Water filled the trails that ran like tyre tracks towards the sea, making neat pools from the hollows the turtles had scooped with their fins.
There were only two places in the city I could always tolerate. The first was a cloud-kissed rooftop, so high above the streets that the clamour of passing cars and buses was just a dull hum. That was the balcony of my apartment. The second place was this one.
It was a forgotten bay. The boats ignored it, steering clear of the submerged rocks, and the migrating sandbars that might bump or scrape their hulls. The beachgoers saw no interest in it, either. It was too muddy here, and the sand was too soft and saturated to strew towels on. There was also no easy access from the city, no parking, and no footpaths or thoroughfares. That deterred most people.
So, the forgotten bay was mine. I shared it only with the turtles, the crabs and tiny fishes, and the occasional children who strayed there, but whom I had never caught sight of. I knew them only by the broken sticks and seaweed chains they discarded, and the footprints they left for the water to smooth over.
Well, these days, I shared the bay with all those things and people, and Leanna.
‘I thought I’d find you here.’
I smiled as I padded over the sinking sand to where the ground was stable. Spiny tufts of salt grass stuck up like a bad haircut, and in their centre, she had found a dry vantage point. She was wearing a white, cotton dress, so thin that it was nearly insubstantial, over her jeans and singlet. While she watched the stars emerge, the breeze caught and lifted it playfully.
‘Hey, Harvey.’
She waved. She was so skinny that the motion was unusually angular. Her entire body seemed to be composed of corners- wrists, elbows, knees and the square edges of her hips protruding over the belt that clung desperately to her wasted frame.
‘How’s it going?’ I asked.
‘Healing,’ she replied, rubbing the plaster cast on her forearm. ‘And guess what? I don’t have to go back to the hospital for another three weeks!’ She beamed. ‘After that, this is coming off, which is a good thing. It’s easy for me to get enough of hospitals. They never leave me alone about my weight…’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘That’s not important, though. How are you?’
I shrugged.
‘I still don’t understand how you did it. I wouldn’t have been brave enough, if it were me.’ I glimpsed a momentary frown, which disappeared as soon as she saw I noticed it.
‘You were plenty brave,’ I retorted. ‘I wasn’t. It’s like I said before, it’s not brave if you’re not afraid.’
‘Harvey!’ Leanna was aghast now, her pretty, blue eyes wide in their sunken sockets. ‘He shot at you! You could have been killed!’
I shrugged again. It was becoming a bad habit.
‘It wouldn’t have made any difference,’ I said. The words sounded pettier aloud than they had in my head, and the hurt look I received in return made me regret them instantly. I looked at my feet, studying the sand caked to my sneakers. ‘I’m afraid of pain,’ I explained, ‘but not death. A gun doesn’t scare me any more than a fist does.’
When I glanced up, I saw that Leanna had turned away. She huffed doubtfully, and, shoes and socks in hand, was loping daintily up the beach. Where she stepped, she left only the lightest imprints, like a delicate elf. Her long, blond hair blew out behind her in streamers.
‘Leanna, wait,’ I pleaded. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just...’
With a turn that was almost a pirouette, she was facing me again, her eyes boring into mine with an expression of grim sympathy. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s okay.’
‘Sorry.’
Shaking her head, she added, ‘It’s hard to believe that, this time a week ago, you were just another stranger at the bus station. Well, I guess weirder things have happened.’ The look on her face, however, suggested the opposite. ‘So, anyway, where are we going tonight?’
That, at least, was easy. I had already decided our agenda. I took a deep breath, and grinned as convincingly as I could.
‘You’ll see.’
The tide was coming in along the wide, flat beach. It would be ice-cold, I guessed, in the still, chilly moonlight, but I dared not dip my toes in it to find out. Like cool glass, it rippled out over the unspoiled sand, smoothing itself into a mirror for the lingering clouds, and foaming barely. Water filled the trails that ran like tyre tracks towards the sea, making neat pools from the hollows the turtles had scooped with their fins.
There were only two places in the city I could always tolerate. The first was a cloud-kissed rooftop, so high above the streets that the clamour of passing cars and buses was just a dull hum. That was the balcony of my apartment. The second place was this one.
It was a forgotten bay. The boats ignored it, steering clear of the submerged rocks, and the migrating sandbars that might bump or scrape their hulls. The beachgoers saw no interest in it, either. It was too muddy here, and the sand was too soft and saturated to strew towels on. There was also no easy access from the city, no parking, and no footpaths or thoroughfares. That deterred most people.
So, the forgotten bay was mine. I shared it only with the turtles, the crabs and tiny fishes, and the occasional children who strayed there, but whom I had never caught sight of. I knew them only by the broken sticks and seaweed chains they discarded, and the footprints they left for the water to smooth over.
Well, these days, I shared the bay with all those things and people, and Leanna.
‘I thought I’d find you here.’
I smiled as I padded over the sinking sand to where the ground was stable. Spiny tufts of salt grass stuck up like a bad haircut, and in their centre, she had found a dry vantage point. She was wearing a white, cotton dress, so thin that it was nearly insubstantial, over her jeans and singlet. While she watched the stars emerge, the breeze caught and lifted it playfully.
‘Hey, Harvey.’
She waved. She was so skinny that the motion was unusually angular. Her entire body seemed to be composed of corners- wrists, elbows, knees and the square edges of her hips protruding over the belt that clung desperately to her wasted frame.
‘How’s it going?’ I asked.
‘Healing,’ she replied, rubbing the plaster cast on her forearm. ‘And guess what? I don’t have to go back to the hospital for another three weeks!’ She beamed. ‘After that, this is coming off, which is a good thing. It’s easy for me to get enough of hospitals. They never leave me alone about my weight…’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘That’s not important, though. How are you?’
I shrugged.
‘I still don’t understand how you did it. I wouldn’t have been brave enough, if it were me.’ I glimpsed a momentary frown, which disappeared as soon as she saw I noticed it.
‘You were plenty brave,’ I retorted. ‘I wasn’t. It’s like I said before, it’s not brave if you’re not afraid.’
‘Harvey!’ Leanna was aghast now, her pretty, blue eyes wide in their sunken sockets. ‘He shot at you! You could have been killed!’
I shrugged again. It was becoming a bad habit.
‘It wouldn’t have made any difference,’ I said. The words sounded pettier aloud than they had in my head, and the hurt look I received in return made me regret them instantly. I looked at my feet, studying the sand caked to my sneakers. ‘I’m afraid of pain,’ I explained, ‘but not death. A gun doesn’t scare me any more than a fist does.’
When I glanced up, I saw that Leanna had turned away. She huffed doubtfully, and, shoes and socks in hand, was loping daintily up the beach. Where she stepped, she left only the lightest imprints, like a delicate elf. Her long, blond hair blew out behind her in streamers.
‘Leanna, wait,’ I pleaded. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just...’
With a turn that was almost a pirouette, she was facing me again, her eyes boring into mine with an expression of grim sympathy. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s okay.’
‘Sorry.’
Shaking her head, she added, ‘It’s hard to believe that, this time a week ago, you were just another stranger at the bus station. Well, I guess weirder things have happened.’ The look on her face, however, suggested the opposite. ‘So, anyway, where are we going tonight?’
That, at least, was easy. I had already decided our agenda. I took a deep breath, and grinned as convincingly as I could.
‘You’ll see.’