AS THEY DROVE THE SHORT distance to school, the boy rested his chin on the windowframe, a heady breeze gusting into the car. It had only been a few hours since Rafi’s death and Daniel was almost catatonic with grief. He had barely said a word since their conversation by the grave.
They pulled up across the road from the gates, a few minutes early. Elena killed the engine, folded her hands around the steering wheel. Other cars began to fill up the available spaces behind them. Up ahead, a lollipop lady was herding a group of children across the road.
“Got your lunchbox?” she asked.
“Yep.”
She grimaced and pressed her thumb and forefinger to her eyelids. Motes of kaleidoscopic light danced behind them. She felt the pain rising in her lower spine that would come up at the worst times. This was the moment to find something comforting to say – anything – but she could not think straight. Her brain sparked and fizzed. In any case, she doubted there was much she could offer to make this better.
The boy picked up his schoolbag from the floor.
“Have a good day,” she said with feeling.
Daniel sat back in his seat, eyes gauging her. It was the first time he had looked at her, really looked at her, since the grave, and though his expression was inscrutable, there was an element of engagement and reflection – forgiveness too, she hoped – about it. She blamed herself. Of course she did. He’d said as much earlier. “Why didn’t you protect him, mama?” he’d wailed at breakfast, before running up the stairs. Elena turned in her seat.
“Something else on your mind?” she asked gently.
He shrugged, as if unsure how to continue. Then he tilted his chin up to her, his thin pale face catching the soft light coming through the windscreen.
The school bell sounded up the hill. She ignored it. “What?”
Daniel said nothing.
“What is it, darling?”
Daniel shuffled in his seat, peering up at her. “Do you think we made the monster mad?” said the boy, allowing himself a measure of curiosity she hadn’t seen in days. “That’s why he’s no longer looking after us, mama.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He was always in the garden,” he replied. “But he didn’t come to help Rafi. He used to watch us. He knew you were scared, mama. And he came to keep us safe.”
At that, Elena felt a searing heat in her chest, a rising shame. How much had she unconsciously put on this child? She had told herself she was protecting him by never speaking of his father, as though he did not exist, but the boy was not so easily fooled; he was always watching, taking everything in. If was as if he was the one protecting her. By inventing an imaginary creature who would keep them both safe. By retreating into another world. She wanted to scream at herself: look at what you’ve done!
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t know.”
They were both silent then. It floated between them.
“I wish Rafi didn’t die.”
The words jarred, physically, the sound of it, like the pain in her back.
“Me too,” replied Elena, pressing an ear into the headrest. “I really miss him.”
“Yeah,” said the boy quietly.
The second bell rang and Daniel jumped. The distress at having to go to school today and pretend everything was normal was palpable. It felt cruel to even make him go. Why put him through more? Why not give him a chance to process this in his own way? In his own time.
“How much do you really want to go to school today?” she said.
He rocked slightly back and forth in his seat, trying to decide if she was joking or not. “Dunno,” he said tentatively. Then: “Not much.”
“Want to do something else?”
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “Anything you want. Go-carting. Maccas. We can go play mini-golf.”
“But I’m in my uniform. I’ll look funny.”
“We’ll swing home so you can get changed.”
Daniel was warming to the idea, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. “What about my teachers – won’t they be mad?”
Elena nodded, expecting that question. The last hurdle. “I’ll ring from home, let them know something came up.”
She watched as the bag hit the floor with a hollow thud, and knew she didn’t need to say anymore. When the last child was in the gate, and the traffic had cleared, she pulled out and drove slowly towards the pedestrian crossing. They both waved at the lollipop lady who waved back with a bemused expression. And then they were back on the road, under a promising sun, with the option to do anything or nothing, and all day to do it.
That night, there were five messages on her mobile when she retrieved it from the coffee table. There was one from Peter, another from Julie Miller, and the other three from the school principal, who asked her in an increasingly exasperated tone to return his calls as soon as possible.
Elena felt her stomach churn.
She sat on the edge of the couch. Waiting for the pizza in her tracksuit pants and loose pullover, she was still feeling floaty after a scalding hot shower. It was well after seven, and far too late to call anyway. But that was just an excuse, wasn’t it? Was this really the time to go and ruin what had been an exceptional day?
She threw the phone back onto the table. “We wagged school, Mr Principal,” she said out loud, “you can get mad at me tomorrow.”
“Who are you talking to, mama?”
Daniel wandered into the room, already in his pyjamas, and moved to the couch where he threw himself down face first. He rolled over and looked up at her with big soulful eyes. His colour had brightened since the morning, and he wore a pleased expression. It heartened her. They played mini-golf for a while, went to a movie, ate burgers with crunchy salty fries smothered in tomato sauce, ended up at the adventure park where they took turns on the flying fox before coming home with ice-cream in giant waffle cones. That was her life, she thought, a rollercoaster of happiness and despair, as if crazy hadn’t already happened.
She smiled encouragingly at Daniel. He was now sitting upright, his feet on the coffee table, flicking through the channels with the remote. But it was all reality TV, and the occasional nature documentary. He threw it sideways as she went to the console and fished out a cooking DVD which starred two elderly Italian chefs traversing the country in a battered Renault.
“What about this one?” Elena asked, holding it up. “It’s one of your favourites.”
The boy surveyed the cover, nodding slightly.
“Right, then,” she said with a thin smile. She could see it, just underneath the surface, all the pain. She had managed to distract him throughout the day, and was still trying, but it was there all the same. In the mask of pleasure he’d worn at lunch, and well into the afternoon, which now began to fall away as fatigue took over, revealing his true feelings. In the way he sat at one end of the couch, avoiding the corner where Rafi always slept, his absence like a presence which filled every inch of the room. Elena wanted to weep too, but she had to remain strong in front of him, even though her heart contracted inside her chest.
She had her back to him, fiddling with the controls on the video player.
“Animals have souls, mama. You can see it in their eyes.”
Elena raised her face to his reflection in the television screen. “I’m sure they do,” she said, unsure where he was going with this.
“Like us.”
“Just like us.”
She pressed play and went over to join him, careful not to sit in Rafi’s spot.
“So Rafi could come and visit us, like a ghost?”
“Well, I suppose so. But I don’t think he would, just in case he gave you a fright.”
The boy shook his head. “I wouldn’t be scared.”
“Nope?”
“Nope.”
Elena reached an arm around him. “Listen, you don’t have to worry about him, OK? He’s not in any pain, and he’s happy where he is.”
“How do you know, mama?” he asked, resting his chin on her side.
“I just know it in my heart.”
“I wish he didn’t die,” he said for the second time that day.
“Me too, bub,” she replied, squeezing his shoulder. “Me too.”
There was a long silence as exhaustion overtook him. When there was a knock at the door, the boy didn’t flinch. Elena felt her heart lurch, momentarily, then reminded herself it was only the pizza delivery. She struggled to extricate herself from the tiny hand still clutching her top, even in sleep. She lay him down and tiptoed to the door, opening it to a lanky kid with a ruddy face and long curly surfer’s hair. Elena took the proffered box and handed him a twenty. She held the box to her stomach, the heat radiating through the cardboard.
Back inside, the boy was still lying there, fast asleep, when she sat down and opened the lid, filling the room with the heady scent of caramelised pineapple and tomato-slathered crusts. Elena turned to him and saw one eye open, the briefest of flickers, before dropping off again. She ate a couple of slices, not exactly hungry but too guilty to leave it untouched.
After a while, she carried the boy to his bedroom. He woke up as she was tucking him in, stared up at her. She caught the reflection of his eyes in the moonlight, the way he studied her. Something on his mind.
“What is it, love?”
“Are you sad?”
“About Rafi?”
“My dad,” he said without emotion.
“Why do you say that?”
“Just because.”
A pause.
“Because why?”
“Because he doesn’t want you to have me.”
“How do you know that? Did he say something that day at school?”
The boy shrugged again. “I just know.”
“Well, no, he doesn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “He wants you back. But that won’t happen. He’s done some bad stuff so he’s not allowed anymore.”
It was a lie. Anderson’s release had already been scheduled, and reunification was an inevitability. It was all Elena could do not to scream at the top of her lungs, her chest filled with impotent rage. But how could she tell him that? All Daniel would hear would be excuses for being sent away. Again. They were silent for a few moments, which felt like a lifetime, then finally:
“But you do.”
“I do what?”
“You want me forever.”
Elena felt a fresh stab in her chest. She gazed at his downy hair, his big bright eyes. And then had to look away, just for a moment. It was unbearable sometimes, this love. “Forever and ever.”
“Forever,” Daniel said softly, and it sounded like a prayer.
“Sleep well, darling,” she said, one last kiss on his forehead. “Everything is going to be just fine.”
Her hand was unsteady, holding onto the bannister. When she passed the console she noticed the phone was flashing, a call coming through at that very moment. She was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing.
“This is Elena. Who is this?”
There was a hesitation at the other end of the phone, as though the caller hadn’t countered on her answering.
“Cat got your tongue?” she continued. “No matter. I have no interest in anything you have to say. But I do have a message for your boss – one that I’m expecting you to pass on as soon as we’re done here.”
The man finally spoke. “Listen, bitch ––”
“No, you listen.” Elena pressed hard against the wall, for strength or courage she didn’t know. “I know your mate Anderson’s got his illegal phone in there. You tell him to call me tonight. You got that? Tonight.”
“You don’t tell me what to do, Ella.”
“Elena – it’s Elena, you great moron! Give him the fucking message. I’ll be waiting for his call.”
She slammed the phone down and saw that her hand was trembling. Her heart pounded in her ears and she waited a moment before heading back upstairs to check on Daniel.
He was almost asleep, gave her a little wave. She pulled the door shut behind her. She knew she couldn’t sleep. What if she missed Anderson’s call? She went back to the top of the stairs where there was an extension. Then she pulled the phone from the cradle, sat down with it wedged between her knees. And waited.
She woke on the landing to an insistent ringing and the phone discarded a few steps down. Her cheek ached from the hard floor and she was confused for a moment. She slid down the stairs, scrambled for the receiver. Suddenly wide awake.
“Anderson?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, haven’t you been busy,” she said, her voice so full of hatred she surprised herself. “What with terrorising women and children, small animals. What happened, mummy didn’t cuddle you enough?”
“Fuckin’ slut,” he muttered. “Think I’m gonna let you talk to me like that?”
“Well, I don’t really care what you think.”
He didn’t reply. It required a huge reserve of strength not to hang up then, to just be done with all this. But that would only make things worse.
“It seems we both want the same thing: my son,” she said. “Thing is, I’ll never let you have him. I don’t care what Children’s Services have to say about it; he’s mine and nothing is going to change that.”
“Think you can stop me, do ya?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Don’t even start with me, ya stupid bitch. You don’t know who the hell you’re dealing with.”
She wanted to get off the phone. To be done with this vile human being. But she needed him to come here, in person, and to be rid of him once and for all.
“I think it’s you who doesn’t know who you’re dealing with,” she said. “I’m going to make sure you’re out of Daniel’s life for good.”
The briefest of pauses. “Is that a threat?”
“You bet.”
At any other time her words would have seemed ridiculous, even to her own ears, but she realised that her love for Daniel was measured only by her hatred for his father. This was the length she would go to. There was simply nothing else for it.
“Fuck you,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to upset you. By the way, how’s your friend, Dave? Been playing any tennis lately?”
“You’re gonna be sorry,” he said slowly, voice heavy.
“Yeah, well. We’ll see about that, won’t we?” She had her hand on her heart. The clock at the bottom of the stairs sounded the hour. It was midnight. He was scheduled to be released the following Monday, in a week’s time. “If you want him, come and get him.”
“You can count on it,” he said, and the line went dead.
Elena flung the phone aside, as though it were radioactive. She pulled her knees to her chest, listened to the ticking of the clock on the wall. She didn’t know how long she sat there, only that at some point she felt the beginning of a spasm in her right leg which jolted her upright. She got up and walked back to the bedroom. She went over to the bed and lay down, saw that she’d left the door open, didn’t bother getting up to close it. This will all be over soon, she whispered to herself, over and over again like a mantra. This will all be over soon.
From the window ledge, Daniel could see into every corner of the garden, down to the rose bushes at the bottom of the fence all the way back up to the gate and around to the fire pit. Even at this time of night he could make out the shape of things, or maybe it was just his memory, like his science teacher said, stare at a picture long enough and it will still be there even after you close your eyes. Just like a photo in your head.
The monster was like that. Daniel could still see him in his head. Those big green eyes and the enormous hands, the thick, black tail. The way he moved around, slowly and deliberately, as though he was deciding where to go next. Daniel knew it. He used to come all the time, and stand by the gate. Watching, just watching. But not anymore. Not for ages. Not since before Rafi died. And it made the boy sad. He wondered what he’d done to make him go away, but he couldn’t think of anything. He wondered why he’d left when they needed him the most.
Daniel climbed down from the ledge, and crossed the room. He got back in bed, pulled the sheet up to his chin. But he couldn’t sleep. He thought of the argument that Mama had on the phone after she’d said goodnight to him. She wasn’t talking loudly – more like a hissing sound – but he could still make out the tone of her words. Angry. Hateful. He had known straightaway that it was his dad. Nobody else could make her mad like that. Nobody. And so he’d tiptoed across the landing, as quiet as a cat, and crouched behind the wall at the top of the stairs.
Listened.
Hard.
Her voice was low, whispered, so he could only make out bits of the conversation: You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’m going to make sure you’re out of Daniel’s life for good.
A little while later she’d laughed, but it wasn’t her normal laugh like the way she did when she and Rafi used to chase each other in opposite directions around the house. Or when Daniel used to bounce a soccer ball on his head. It was something else entirely.
Been playing any tennis lately?
Then she flung the phone away and he’d watched it bounce down the stairs. Daniel quickly ran back to his room and pretended to be almost asleep when she came to check on him a couple of minutes later.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling.
Daniel wished the monster would come back, just like before, when he would stand down by the gate every night until the boy waved at him from the window. To keep them safe. Only he hadn’t, had he? Rafi was gone, and nothing was the same. He saw the way his mother had changed too, her flighty hands, the half-finished sentences, the worry of things. At bedtime, when they were up close he could see the bags under her eyes, the way the corners of her mouth turned down ever so slightly. He knew how much she kept from him, about his dad and the phone calls with Julie, the things she talked about with Uncle Peter, secret stuff, but at night when her guard dropped and he could see it all in her face. He wanted to make it better. He just didn’t know how.
And he realised there would be no going back to the way things were before, when it was just the three of them. Nothing would ever be the same again. It was up to him to look after mama now. Even if he was only a little boy. Even if his stomach lurched – and he wanted to run and hide – at the thought of his father. Daniel was the man of the family. He was almost seven and he would do anything to keep them safe.