I’d never seen her the morning after one of her parties, but if this was how she looked, I was glad I’d never had to bear witness until now. Only one glass. Party of one. I wondered if all the parties were fake.
Setting the water glass down, I opened the window, turned the fan on full, and ripped the covers down. She didn’t budge, still wrapped up in a turtleneck jumper and tracksuit pants. I didn’t realise she even owned such sloth clothing, and it felt like it was thirty degrees in her room.
I grabbed the glass of iced water and dumped it on her head. She heaved in a deep breath as she bolted upright, eyes glassy but wide. Her stomach revolted from the movement and emptied its contents all over the bed. I jumped back in time to avoid the spray.
“Fuck!” she croaked, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Her eyelids fluttered, probably trying to focus her blurry vision.
I glared with my arms folded, waiting for her brain to catch up to the situation. She finally turned her head towards me, wincing with the movement. “What the fuck, Mantis? You fucking maniac! What are you doing here? Didn’t you understand the eviction notice at the door?”
“Oh, I saw your message. I want to know why you couldn’t discuss it with me like a normal adult?”
“I don’t want you here anymore. What else is there to say? Get out. Leave your key on the kitchen counter.” She swayed as she placed her feet on the floor, and opened her bedside drawer to reveal a virtual pharmacy of medications. Picking out a box, she removed two pills and swallowed them dry.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This wasn’t the in-control, immaculate woman she presented to the world. This was a woman in crisis, on edge. I couldn’t reconcile the two people as one. Despite the smell, I remained locked in position, feeling like she might actually need my help somehow and wanting to give it to her. What the hell?
Her eyes turned icy, shooting blue dagger points in my direction. Her voice and expression hard as she gripped the side of the bed with her fists. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE!”
My shoulders jumped and I sprang into action, heading back into the hall. The door to my room was open, revealing splintered furniture and gouges in the plaster walls. Oh my God, she has lost her shit. I saw some random belongings of mine spread among the debris. None of it was important or irreplaceable. I never kept my valuables here anyway. It was a miracle she’d packed any of my stuff at all.
I scuttled down the hallway to the kitchen, ripping the key off my keyring and dumping it on the bench. The door slammed behind me, this time with me on the outside. I stopped on the landing with my meagre belongings at my feet in a soggy box. I looked back at the stainless-steel number fifty-five on the door, and saw a triple six instead. My body slumped on the top step in defeat. Taking out my phone, I rang the only person who could help me.
“Granny …?”
“I’ll see you in ten minutes. Your bed is ready. Drive safely, darling.” She hung up.
Silent tears ran rivers down my cheeks. I clutched my phone between my hands, elbows resting on my knees as I sent a prayer of thanks to the telco for their service, and a hallelujah for the existence of my Granny.
With a deep breath, I placed the phone back inside my bag. As I did, my fingers touched the business card for the room for rent. I stared at it dumbly. Granny would say it was a sign.
Tomorrow. I’ll ring the number tomorrow. What choice do I have now?
Brad
I’d put up a plaster sheet over the vertical joints on one lounge room wall to make a smooth canvas. The paintbrush behaved like an extension of my hand, as I added some shadow into the dark forest I’d created.
I was pretty sure my Gran would have loved the idea of a mural. When we first moved in, I found a box with all the drawings I’d ever given her, and two more recent paintings on the walls. She was my groupie. I still felt her … watching over me and the improvements I’d been making to her old house.
What started out as a dark tunnel of dense trees now had a focal point of light cutting through the centre. A figure started to take shape as I painted, a dream forming clearly with each brush stroke. The centre drew the eye. It was the goal. Now, I could see what it was shaping into. It was life, it was salvation and love … It was her.
I put my paintbrush and palette down and stepped back. I gently massaged around the cast on my left hand, now numb from holding the palette. I’d gone totally fucking mad. I was putting her permanently on my lounge room wall. It was barely an outline of a person, but I knew it was her. Ben would give me so much shit about this when he saw it. I debated whether I should paint over it.
Thick clouds shifted their weight, spotlighting the centre of my wall in the streams of morning sun coming through the window. My jaw slackened, eyes honing in on that figure in the centre. Those beams of light felt like they were streaming right through my heart, filling me with go-go juice or something. I could do an ironman competition right now, and make the others all look like jokers.
She was meant to be a permanent fixture in my home, and in my life. I felt it deep in
