that there’s nothing I can do
, he admitted, ashamed at his ineffectualness.
It seemed too hard. I don’t know how to even begin to right some of the wrongs
.
She listened to him, and he, in turn, listened to her, as she told him about her mother’s death when she was five years old. Her father could not cope, she said. He left her with her mother’s parents and returned to Sweden, remarrying within a couple of years.
And you never see him?
Silas asked.
She shook her head.
Greta told Silas she had always been in trouble. By the time she was fifteen she had run away five times, once hitchhiking interstate, another time stealing a neighbour’s car. She slept with other girls’ boyfriends, even the local librarian’s husband, and once the maths teacher at high school.
Silas smiled.
Not the best way to behave in a small country town
.
She didn’t argue.
I was a mess
, she admitted.
I probably still am
.
One evening, as they both watched an ibis pick its way delicately across the darkening parklands, she attempted to ask Silas what I was like now, hesitant about touching on the subject, but curious all the same.
When Silas asked her if we had been together for long, she told him that our relationship was fairly brief.
But it took me a while to recover
.
In telling him her stories, Greta probably wanted to let Silas know that her distance with him was not just due to the strangeness of his behaviour. She was no good at relationships, she would have tried to explain, wanting to take some of the blame for the nervousness they both felt in each other’s com pany, wanting, rightly or wrongly, to make him feel better. She liked Silas, more so as they spent time together, and she wanted to rewrite what had happened between them. She wanted to recast the story, to wipe away how troubled he was.
She
was a mess and that was why she was being careful. Unfortunately, it was not so easy to forget the way in which she had found him, sitting in the darkness of the kitchen, his complete absorption in inflicting pain upon himself both terrifying and confusing, and with each step that she took towards him, there would always be another one back.
Reaching the park gate some weeks after the night they slept together, the first of the evening lights flickering across the harbour, she searched for her phone in her bag. She had to go. Normally, they would have walked up the twisting hill that leads past the docks, parting on the corner of his street, but tonight she was meeting a friend. She was about to tell Silas she would see him next week, when he reached for her, awkwardly, and asked her if she wanted to have a meal with him.
I know it’s Friday night, and you’ve probably had something organised for months, but you just look so beautiful in this light
, and he grinned shyly at her.
Don’t
, and she wished her surprise had not given a harshness to her voice that had not been intended, because even though she had been wanting this interest, she found herself floundering in the face of it.
She could see that Silas felt like a fool, and she tried to apologise. Maybe they could go out next week, she suggested, and when they parted, she kissed him, clumsily, on the cheek.
As she walked up the road that leads past the art gallery and into the city, Silas watched her disappear into the darkness. There was a softness around her, a lilac haze, and for one brief moment it seemed to him she was a part of the deep purple of the evening sky.
He hailed a taxi, wishing he had said nothing, and as heremembered the look on her face he could feel it beginning, the tightening that started in his heart and pulled in along his entire left side. He winced as he gave his address and closed his eyes in preparation for the onslaught of pain.
Are you all right?
The driver looked into the rear-vision mirror as he pulled away from the kerb.
Silas nodded. It was all he was capable of doing.
spider
Tarentula
Clinical. – – Angina pectoris .
, he admitted, ashamed at his ineffectualness.
It seemed too hard. I don’t know how to even begin to right some of the wrongs
.
She listened to him, and he, in turn, listened to her, as she told him about her mother’s death when she was five years old. Her father could not cope, she said. He left her with her mother’s parents and returned to Sweden, remarrying within a couple of years.
And you never see him?
Silas asked.
She shook her head.
Greta told Silas she had always been in trouble. By the time she was fifteen she had run away five times, once hitchhiking interstate, another time stealing a neighbour’s car. She slept with other girls’ boyfriends, even the local librarian’s husband, and once the maths teacher at high school.
Silas smiled.
Not the best way to behave in a small country town
.
She didn’t argue.
I was a mess
, she admitted.
I probably still am
.
One evening, as they both watched an ibis pick its way delicately across the darkening parklands, she attempted to ask Silas what I was like now, hesitant about touching on the subject, but curious all the same.
When Silas asked her if we had been together for long, she told him that our relationship was fairly brief.
But it took me a while to recover
.
In telling him her stories, Greta probably wanted to let Silas know that her distance with him was not just due to the strangeness of his behaviour. She was no good at relationships, she would have tried to explain, wanting to take some of the blame for the nervousness they both felt in each other’s com pany, wanting, rightly or wrongly, to make him feel better. She liked Silas, more so as they spent time together, and she wanted to rewrite what had happened between them. She wanted to recast the story, to wipe away how troubled he was.
She
was a mess and that was why she was being careful. Unfortunately, it was not so easy to forget the way in which she had found him, sitting in the darkness of the kitchen, his complete absorption in inflicting pain upon himself both terrifying and confusing, and with each step that she took towards him, there would always be another one back.
Reaching the park gate some weeks after the night they slept together, the first of the evening lights flickering across the harbour, she searched for her phone in her bag. She had to go. Normally, they would have walked up the twisting hill that leads past the docks, parting on the corner of his street, but tonight she was meeting a friend. She was about to tell Silas she would see him next week, when he reached for her, awkwardly, and asked her if she wanted to have a meal with him.
I know it’s Friday night, and you’ve probably had something organised for months, but you just look so beautiful in this light
, and he grinned shyly at her.
Don’t
, and she wished her surprise had not given a harshness to her voice that had not been intended, because even though she had been wanting this interest, she found herself floundering in the face of it.
She could see that Silas felt like a fool, and she tried to apologise. Maybe they could go out next week, she suggested, and when they parted, she kissed him, clumsily, on the cheek.
As she walked up the road that leads past the art gallery and into the city, Silas watched her disappear into the darkness. There was a softness around her, a lilac haze, and for one brief moment it seemed to him she was a part of the deep purple of the evening sky.
He hailed a taxi, wishing he had said nothing, and as heremembered the look on her face he could feel it beginning, the tightening that started in his heart and pulled in along his entire left side. He winced as he gave his address and closed his eyes in preparation for the onslaught of pain.
Are you all right?
The driver looked into the rear-vision mirror as he pulled away from the kerb.
Silas nodded. It was all he was capable of doing.
spider
Tarentula
Clinical. – – Angina pectoris .
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