Being Wrong

Charlie wasn’t really sure if he slept that night, or how much. It felt like his brain was alert and buzzing all night, but morning came more quickly than he’d expected.

It had been light for a couple of hours by the time Charlie’s dad opened the bathroom door, glanced at Charlie disinterestedly, and then went to take a piss. He left the door open after he was done, so Charlie followed him out and sat down on one of the beds.

Charlie didn’t feel as tired as he should have from the little sleep he’d managed to get and all the stress of the previous night. He knew it would hit later, when he no longer needed to be alert or when he finally hit a firm breaking point, but for now his brain was cobbling together all its reserves out of necessity. If it took him too long to find a way to escape, he’d be left battling against the worst his own mind had to offer on top of everything else.

“We’re going to be doing a lot of driving today.” Charlie’s dad peered out of the motel room door, then waved Charlie over as he stepped outside. “We’ll stop at Hervey Bay and get some fish and chips for breakfast, then follow the Bruce Highway up North for the rest of the day.”

Charlie glanced around the parking lot as they walked towards the car, but they were alone. He climbed into the back seat of the car and did up his seat belt. “Where are we going?”

“Way up North. One of my mates found me some work up there.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll figure things out and get settled down again.” Charlie’s dad turned the key in the ignition. “Let’s see what’s on the radio.”

The reception was staticy and the car’s audio always sounded tinny, but the music from the radio steadied Charlie, gave him something outside of his own head to focus on. As they drove, Charlie stared out the window and read every street sign they passed and memorised landmarks and street names. It was less than an hour before they turned off towards Hervey Bay.

Despite everything that was going on, Charlie still found himself sitting up taller and craning his neck as the first glimpse of the sea. He really did wish he’d been able to go back there again with his parents. Maybe one day he could go with Travis, but only if he could get back to him first. He had to.

Charlie’s dad skipped past the more convenient parking spots and headed up a hill to a more secluded spot that overlooked the water. It was pretty, but it was a complete dead end that nobody else had bothered with on a slow Monday morning. The ground dropped off sharply surrounding the parking area, making it so that even on foot the road was the only way out.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get us fish and chips,” Charlie’s dad told him. “You’re going to stay here and not get out of this car.”

Charlie stared out over the water. It looked sparkly in the morning sunlight. “Children die in hot cars.”

Charlie’s dad rolled his window down halfway. “Do not get out of the car, Charlie. I’m serious.”

“I won’t.”

That was even the truth, probably. There was no one here, nowhere to go except down the same road his dad was now walking down which led straight to the fish and chip shop.

School would have started by now. Charlie was missing his first class. Travis would definitely know he was missing by now, and of course his grandparents. Would anyone else notice or care? Did it matter? Somehow the fact that Travis would know, that Travis would care, gave Charlie strength. He didn’t think he could do what he needed to otherwise.

If Charlie was going to succeed in getting back to Travis, it would almost certainly mean his dad was going to prison. Maybe that was even a good thing, maybe it meant his dad would avoid the same pointless end his mum had eventually come to, but it would definitely mean he wouldn’t be playing any significant part in Charlie’s life in the near future. When the alternative was Travis, that was definitely good.

Charlie’s dad returned even more quickly than Charlie had expected, and Charlie was glad he hadn’t risked an escape attempt. Charlie’s dad wedged a styrofoam container of fish and chips into the centre console and reached over the back of his seat to hand Charlie a bottle of orange juice.

If everything had been normal, this would have been a treat. Charlie loved fish and chips and he loved orange juice, but his stomach was a tight knot that completely erased his appetite.

Still, Charlie made himself eat. If he took care of his body as well as he could, his mind would stay clear a little bit longer. If he ate, his dad might think he’d settled into their new situation. They turned back onto the Bruce Highway and Charlie counted turnoffs as he slowly chewed a chip.

#

By the time his dad turned off into a petrol station an hour later, Charlie’s energy was starting to seriously flag. It was a kind of deep, mounting exhaustion that had little to do with the sleep he’d missed and that he knew from experience could linger for weeks after whatever had caused it was resolved. At least now he probably looked like he was very unlikely to cause any trouble beyond whining.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get some stuff,” Charlie’s dad said. “Toothbrush, toothpaste. Anything else?”

“Yes, um…” Charlie flicked his fingers as his mind went blank. “Let me make a list.”

“We really need a list?” Charlie’s dad asked, but he found a pen and a notepad anyway. “Not too much. These places are expensive.”

“I know,” Charlie said, but he had a plan. First he thought of things he could reasonably need - a toothbrush and toothpaste, of course. Deodorant. Soap. Shampoo. Lip balm. His dad probably wouldn’t buy half of it, but the idea was to delay him.

Next, Charlie started listing specifics. Specific brands and types of things, ones he knew wouldn’t be in a small petrol station shop, and then alternative options if those weren’t available. It was easy to bullshit because on an ordinary day he would be genuinely this fussy. His dad would probably decide he couldn’t be bothered trying to cater to it in the end, but he seemed to be putting enough effort into smoothing things over between them that it might buy Charlie a couple more minutes.

When he was done Charlie gave the list to his dad, then took off his hoodie, bundled it up to use as a pillow, and lay down. He felt exhausted enough that it had to look convincing. If his dad thought he was laying down, he wouldn’t be able to see whether or not he was still in the car from a distance.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” his dad said. The car door slammed shut behind him.

Charlie counted to twenty in his head, then sat up and peeked out of the window. He could see his dad through the glass front of the petrol station, his back to Charlie as he walked down one of the aisles. Charlie didn’t feel so tired anymore.

There was a clerk in the petrol station, but his dad would have plenty of time to get Charlie out of there before the police could arrive. There was nobody else in the parking lot. There was the road. There was empty bush. Charlie didn’t like his chances of getting far on bare feet. And there was… Charlie drew in a sharp breath. Tucked unobtrusively on the side of the petrol station, there was a pay phone.

Charlie glanced at his dad to make sure he was still occupied, then quickly slipped out of the car and darted towards the phone. It only took a few seconds, but he couldn’t be sure his dad hadn’t seen him until a few moments had passed and nothing had happened. Charlie picked up the receiver and dialled the number for reverse charge calls. He hoped Travis hadn’t gone to school today.

#

Travis lay on his back on the sofa, staring up blankly at Artemis as she purred with full force and kneaded at his chest with enough enthusiasm that it hurt a little. He hadn’t slept yet. Charlie was gone, and all Travis could think about was all the mistakes he’d made. All the things he could have done that might have helped them now. He hadn’t wanted to pry, and as a result he’d had barely any useful information to pass on to the police.

He knew Charlie’s dad had hurt him in the past, but he didn’t really know how far he might go. He didn’t know where he might take Charlie. He didn’t know whether he would truly be kept prisoner, or if he could easily escape if he had the motivation. He didn’t know. Charlie was missing and there was nothing he could do.

That was when his phone rang.

Travis sat up so quickly that Artemis made a startled sound and darted off. He’s expected it to be Charlie’s grandparents calling, but the number that showed up wasn’t one he had stored in his phone. The police, maybe?

Before Travis could say anything, a robotic voice on the other end of the line started asking him if he would accept reverse charges for a call. He knew who it would be even before the sound of Charlie saying his name made his chest clench tight. He pressed one and waited while the call connected.

“Travis?” Charlie’s voice asked, quiet and staticy.

“I’m here,” Travis said. “Where are you? Are you hurt? Have you called the police?”

For a moment there was only breathing on the other end of the line, and Travis realised he’d probably overwhelmed Charlie with all his questions. “Do you have a pen and paper? I have to give you information so the police can find me.”

“You should call the police, Charlie.”

“I only have a couple of minutes and I don’t think I can explain things to them quickly enough. Now, write this down. My dad’s car is a red Holden, plate number…”

Travis grabbed a pen and a notepad off the coffee table and started jotting down everything Charlie said, the information tumbling efficiently out of him. When Charlie started describing where he was, Travis opened up Google Maps on his laptop and tried to pinpoint a location. Second petrol station after turning back onto the Bruce Highway out of Hervey Bay. “Okay, I found you on a map. I know where you are.”

“Maybe…” Charlie paused. “Can you find somewhere I can ask him to stop so I can go to the toilet? And then tell the police to wait there?”

Fuck. Smart. Travis searched for rest stops. “Uhh… yes! About half an hour from where you are now, there’s a rest stop in a national park.”

“Okay. I have to go.”

“Charlie-” Travis started to say, but the line had already gone dead. He hadn’t even been sure what he was going to say.

Travis took a deep breath and dialled triple zero.

#

Charlie darted back to the car, got in, and resettled himself laying down in the back. His heart was hammering hard in his chest. He didn’t feel at all tired anymore. No matter how it went down, this next part would be the hardest of all.

Less than a minute later, Charlie’s dad got back into the car and tossed a plastic bag full of stuff at Charlie. “They didn’t have most of the shit you wanted, but there you go.”

Charlie sat up and pulled his hoodie back on. He did up his seatbelt and then pretended to be very interested in the things his dad had bought him. He glanced at the dashboard clock as his dad started up the car. Travis had said the rest stop was about half an hour from here.

It was impossible to keep himself still, so Charlie didn’t bother trying. To his dad, it would look no different to his usual fussy fidgeting when he was overwhelmed and overtired. He remembered his mum telling him that even as a baby he would wriggle and fuss right up until the moment he finally fell asleep.

Charlie took the toothbrush out of its packaging and felt its bristles. Pulled the plastic part of the packaging off of the cardboard. Took the toothpaste out of its box. Tasted the toothpaste. Destroyed the box. Glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Chewed on a piece of cardboard. Made a face and spat it out. Opened up the bottle of body wash and sniffed it. Glanced at the time again.

“I need to pee,” Charlie announced twenty minutes into their drive. He still hadn’t seen any signs for the rest stop, but if he waited until he did they’d probably miss it.

“Should have gone at the petrol station.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay in the car there.”

Charlie’s dad made a vague sound of agreement, then the car slowed as he pulled to the side of the road.

Shit.

“I can wait until we find somewhere to stop.”

“There’s no one here. You know how to piss on a tree.”

Charlie hesitated. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“Or you can wait until we stop for lunch. It’s up to you.”

Charlie got out of the car. His dad got out as well. Shit.

Charlie took a few steps forward towards the thick bush that ran along the side of the road. He needed a new plan, but his mind had gone blank. Charlie pressed his hand against the smooth bark of the first tree he reached and glanced back at his dad. He was still standing by the car.

Charlie ran.

It wasn’t so much a plan as it was the only thing Charlie could think of to do. Sticks and pointy rocks dug into his bare feet with every step, and it was only a few seconds before he heard the heavy crunch of his dad’s boots gaining quickly on him from behind. A hand on his back shoved him forcefully and he fell forward.

Charlie caught himself on his hands and rolled over to face his dad. He started to push himself back to his feet, then froze when sunlight caught on the knife in his dad’s hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Charlie’s dad asked, his voice low and threatening.

“I want to go back! Just leave me here.”

“You want to go back?” Charlie’s dad waved the knife in a broad gesture. “To what? To your grandparents, who you’ve hated since you were a fucking toddler? To that faggot who thinks it’ll be easy to get into your pants because you’re retarded?”

“I’m not!” Charlie didn’t even know why that mattered just then, but for some reason it still hurt.

“You think that fucking makes any difference to anything? People look at you, they see how you act, and that’s what they see.”

“But I’m not. I’m smart and I want to go to school.”

Charlie’s dad let out a humourless bark of laughter. His knuckles were white as he clenched the knife in his fist. “Why? What are you gonna do with an education? Are you gonna be a lawyer, Charlie? An investment banker? A month ago you were crying on the kitchen floor because we ran out of milk.”

That hadn’t been the only reason, just the thing that had finally triggered his collapse, but he couldn’t really argue with his dad’s point. He was a mess. He couldn’t imagine ever not being a mess.

“You’re always gonna need someone to take care of you, Charlie. I’m your dad, so that’s my job, isn’t it? Nobody else should have to do that.”

A hot tear caught Charlie by surprise as it ran down his cheek. His chest hurt. He felt worthless and selfish, like a child throwing a tantrum. His feet stung. One of them was bleeding a little. He wanted Travis.

Charlie’s dad stepped forward, the knife held at his side more of a warning than a threat as he reached towards Charlie with his other hand. Charlie kicked out at his shin, too angry to be properly afraid, then shielded his face in the crook of his elbow as his dad lunged towards him.