SEASON FINALE
February 2nd 2007 16:34
Eva and I drove north until it was impossible to drive any further. We wrote letters to no one and threw them over the cliff. Then, we drove home.
On our way home, Eva received a phone call. She got into law, in Sydney, in UNSW. Her dream university, her dream degree. Her parents want her back in Sydney. Her father is dying. They’ve already bought her plane tickets. Aviators on, she looked at me. I didn’t look back. The clouds didn’t move much.
I’m sorry, she whispered.
It’s okay.
As we drove back to Brisbane, we talked about things like up and coming parties, how South Bank cinemas sell movie tickets for five bucks, new aviators, friends who are now drug addicts, how Daniel lied, girls she’s seen who have kissed, the man in Queen Street Mall with the trumpet or whatever, Jacob, the world, television ads for Australian Idol and Ray White and Adidas and Fa and Rugs a Million, nightmares, sweat, the weather. Eventually, Eva told me about her life in Sydney, how she was kicked out by her parents a few years ago. She told me that when she left Sydney, she left everything that was bad, and now that she’s leaving Brisbane, she’s leaving everything that’s good. She said:
But I still have to go back.
I changed the radio station and gripped onto the wheel.
David was waiting for us in front of our apartment. He was high on speed. “Where the fuck have you been, guys? I’ve been trying to call you.” He was standing next to a bunch of bags. “I’m going back to China, in like, now. I’m fucking late for my flight.” Before he could hug me goodbye, a taxi arrived and he left to China for good.
Eva and I spent that night together singing karaoke. I sounded like shit. She touched my hand and told me that she had fun driving north.
Everyone is leaving me, Eva.
Eva didn’t say anything. She put her head on my shoulder, and I remembered the time when she was under a blanket in the back seat of my car and she told me about the time she was raped. I remembered the time when we snuck into a golf course for my birthday and slept on the green. Eva and I have broken up and come back together so many times that no one believes what’s happening, where our feelings truly belong. I want my hands to stop shaking, my heart to stop its panic. I don’t want my feelings to exist. I want them to explode away with the universe that won’t stop flying.
Visit me all the time, okay, Dean?
Eva and I spent the next few days talking and listening to music and eating and sleeping. One morning, I kissed her goodbye. She kissed me goodbye. I left the airport and sat in my car for a while. I changed the station to news about a journalist being killed. I changed the station again and it was a report on a corrupt politician. I changed the station again and it was about a new abortion pill. I changed the station again and it was some techno song. I cried for about twenty minutes and drove off. Our apartment was empty and the air-conditioning was of no use anymore.
My housemate and best friend Jacob is missing. David, my other housemate is flying back to China. Sarah is in Singapore. Elton has gone. Dennis has threatened to decapitate me. Lee has been deported for drugs. Iris is in the Philippines. Ricardo has issues; I think he is going to court for either assault or manslaughter, depending on who’s rumour. I think his ex girlfriend is a prostitute now. Maddie is dead.
I’m going to have to move back to my mother’s home.
I looked at the room where Jacob told everyone that he had itchy nipples. It was also the room where Jacob told me to be a man. It was also the room were we’d have dinner. It was also the room where David spilt all that coffee. It was also the room that I took a hundred photos of. I’m eighteen, turning nineteen. I start university again in a few weeks. Time is a thing. Space is a thing. The mind is a thing. The heart is a thing. None of these things go together. What the fuck is going to happen in 2007?
Audrey left a message on the answering machine:
Dean, guess what? I’m back in Brisbane. Call me whenever, okay?
I smiled a little. I unplugged the phone. I ran my fingers over some walls. I curled up and cried for a while. I put the last of my things in the car and headed west, where I used to live, where my mother and brother live, wondering what they’ll say when they see me again.
On our way home, Eva received a phone call. She got into law, in Sydney, in UNSW. Her dream university, her dream degree. Her parents want her back in Sydney. Her father is dying. They’ve already bought her plane tickets. Aviators on, she looked at me. I didn’t look back. The clouds didn’t move much.
I’m sorry, she whispered.
It’s okay.
As we drove back to Brisbane, we talked about things like up and coming parties, how South Bank cinemas sell movie tickets for five bucks, new aviators, friends who are now drug addicts, how Daniel lied, girls she’s seen who have kissed, the man in Queen Street Mall with the trumpet or whatever, Jacob, the world, television ads for Australian Idol and Ray White and Adidas and Fa and Rugs a Million, nightmares, sweat, the weather. Eventually, Eva told me about her life in Sydney, how she was kicked out by her parents a few years ago. She told me that when she left Sydney, she left everything that was bad, and now that she’s leaving Brisbane, she’s leaving everything that’s good. She said:
But I still have to go back.
I changed the radio station and gripped onto the wheel.
David was waiting for us in front of our apartment. He was high on speed. “Where the fuck have you been, guys? I’ve been trying to call you.” He was standing next to a bunch of bags. “I’m going back to China, in like, now. I’m fucking late for my flight.” Before he could hug me goodbye, a taxi arrived and he left to China for good.
Eva and I spent that night together singing karaoke. I sounded like shit. She touched my hand and told me that she had fun driving north.
Everyone is leaving me, Eva.
Eva didn’t say anything. She put her head on my shoulder, and I remembered the time when she was under a blanket in the back seat of my car and she told me about the time she was raped. I remembered the time when we snuck into a golf course for my birthday and slept on the green. Eva and I have broken up and come back together so many times that no one believes what’s happening, where our feelings truly belong. I want my hands to stop shaking, my heart to stop its panic. I don’t want my feelings to exist. I want them to explode away with the universe that won’t stop flying.
Visit me all the time, okay, Dean?
Eva and I spent the next few days talking and listening to music and eating and sleeping. One morning, I kissed her goodbye. She kissed me goodbye. I left the airport and sat in my car for a while. I changed the station to news about a journalist being killed. I changed the station again and it was a report on a corrupt politician. I changed the station again and it was about a new abortion pill. I changed the station again and it was some techno song. I cried for about twenty minutes and drove off. Our apartment was empty and the air-conditioning was of no use anymore.
My housemate and best friend Jacob is missing. David, my other housemate is flying back to China. Sarah is in Singapore. Elton has gone. Dennis has threatened to decapitate me. Lee has been deported for drugs. Iris is in the Philippines. Ricardo has issues; I think he is going to court for either assault or manslaughter, depending on who’s rumour. I think his ex girlfriend is a prostitute now. Maddie is dead.
I’m going to have to move back to my mother’s home.
I looked at the room where Jacob told everyone that he had itchy nipples. It was also the room where Jacob told me to be a man. It was also the room were we’d have dinner. It was also the room where David spilt all that coffee. It was also the room that I took a hundred photos of. I’m eighteen, turning nineteen. I start university again in a few weeks. Time is a thing. Space is a thing. The mind is a thing. The heart is a thing. None of these things go together. What the fuck is going to happen in 2007?
Audrey left a message on the answering machine:
Dean, guess what? I’m back in Brisbane. Call me whenever, okay?
I smiled a little. I unplugged the phone. I ran my fingers over some walls. I curled up and cried for a while. I put the last of my things in the car and headed west, where I used to live, where my mother and brother live, wondering what they’ll say when they see me again.
| 144 |
| Vote |
Add To: 
subscribe to this blog
Comment by David
Love the new banner. It's schmick as!
The way you write? Your style? It's unique. (That's rare ... (it's also a compliment ...
That's a great narrative that one ... (it's a patchwork quilt; a multitude of different coloured people patches, all sewn and held together by a single thread of abandonment cotton ...
You're probably one of the few men in life who need an older woman ...
And love the 'please don't fly away' pic.
David ...
Comment by Brenton
Dr Spin
Tales From The Other Side
Blip Blog
Gadget Museum
Comment by Ash
Flashes of memories
Comment by Always Eighteen
Always Eighteen
David - Glad to hear from you. You like the banner and the pic? Yeah, I plan to change the photos in the banner once in a while - one day I might include a pic of Eva.
How's the A to Z book going?
I've had an older woman before, she was a psycho. But then again, I've been with a younger woman, and she was a little crazy, too.
Brenton and Ash - thanks so much for dropping by. I hope all is going well for you!
Comment by JessOw
The Tack Room
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
Comment by Always Eighteen
Always Eighteen
Do you guys get that? When something gets so trapped in your stomach, your guts, your brain, that you really have to spew it all out?
I think that my life, after the past few months of insanity, has reset itself. It's a brand new season, with a new cast and crew. Have you ever felt that your life is exactly like a soap opera, except about a hundred times more complicated?
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
Yes, I can relate to that feeling of being in soap opera....and yes definitely far more complicated. I also do a lot of writing that stems from frustrations, fears, experiences in my life. Sometimes I think I should be writing more positive pieces but these topics keep rising through my body urging to come out...so I let it. (hence my recent poem on my post.
I agree with what David said about you having multiple narrative styles in your writing. It works and reinforces that feeling of free thought...as free thought is less linear and flows whichever way it needs to...
Tracy
Comment by Lilla
From The Home Front
Enviro Warrior
Dream Herald
Esoteric Bookshop
As Always, the simplicity of your thoughts and words stir and inspire me ...
.. and unwittingly, I find my response is tied to my empathy, as tightly as your stomach is coiled .. I am so sorry and yet know from experience that the storm will pass ...
So many good things ahead,
stay open my friend ..
leave
the
past
behind
you...
...tomorrow is unwritten,
..do not fill it with the past.
ps there is an old Buddhist saying:
Comment by Brenton
Dr Spin
Tales From The Other Side
Blip Blog
Gadget Museum
But it wasn't good.
But it's good again.
Which makes it better.
Comment by pegasus
Poker Addict
This is a very touching and moving post. You have quite a beautiful gift - I felt like I was right next to you as you were telling me your tale
Comment by KylieW
Celebrity Obsession
Wow, brilliant writing. So very moving. I know that an ending is just another form of a new beginning...but it's so bloody hard. Wonderful work
Kylie
Comment by Always Eighteen
Always Eighteen
Tracy - there was a scene in Almost Famous where one of the characters, I think played by Jack Black, said something like the greatest art comes from suffering. It got me thinking of the bible, of Frida, of love, etc.
Lilla, Brenton, Pegasus, and KylieW - thanks fro dropping by. I hope the summer heat isn't boiling you guys up too much.
Lilla - ...tomorrow is unwritten,
..do not fill it with the past.
Thanks for the quote, and also for the Buddhist saying. Yes, sometimes I have to realise not to spend too much time on memory lane. I get too nostalgic sometimes!