Shallow Breath

21

Maya




After Maya leaves Rebecca’s house, she doesn’t want to go back to the bay. She needs to keep moving. Even though her car flies down the country roads at a hundred kilometres an hour, it’s going far slower than her thoughts.

How do you drown a memory? Maya is asking herself. How do you get rid of the unwanted ones, so you can keep going? Her mother must know, since she’d sworn she didn’t remember the circumstances that surrounded her transgression. But Desi’s memory loss bothered Maya. It was too easy – as though she was playing a get-out-of-jail-free card, even if it hadn’t worked. But then it would probably have been worse hearing Desi admitting what she’d done. At least this way Maya retained some small vestiges of faith in the quiet, loving mother she had always known.

Maya’s first sight of Caitlin in over two years is frozen in her mind, an unwanted snapshot in which all she can see is her damaged leg. Every time she reminds herself that her mother is responsible, pressure builds in her brain. How can Desi live with herself, knowing she did that to a young girl? Her best friend’s daughter, no less. And why does Maya feel guilty by association?

It’s been over two years since the accident, but the memories have come flooding back. Maya had spent the earlier part of that awful day unremarkably, at the beach with some friends, and had come away ill at ease. The girls had been nice enough, but their merriment often felt silly, and the talk was all boys and bragging. She had been waiting on a low wall by the shops for her mother to pick her up, trying to figure herself out, because it made her feel weird to join in with the others, like she was pretending to be somebody else. Was it that she couldn’t be like them, or that she wouldn’t?

Her mother had been late, as usual, and the day was turning golden. While the sun edged shyly towards a kiss with the horizon, Maya had begun playing games on her phone. She had just finished a round of Jewel when she’d glanced up and seen her mother’s car. She’d put her phone in her bag, and was about to jump off from the wall when, to her astonishment, the car mounted the pavement, drove across two gardens, and headed fast for Caitlin’s grandfather, who skipped away at the very last moment before the sickening crunch as the cars collided.

Maya’s first thought was that her mother had had a heart attack at the wheel, like her chemistry teacher, old Mr Davies, had had the previous year when he’d driven into a ditch. But then Desi had climbed out and stood there, one hand on her forehead, blinking in the sunshine, as if unable to believe what she was seeing, never mind having been the one who caused it.

When the screaming began, Desi had folded into herself and dropped to the ground.

People had run to help. The grandfather and a couple of other men pushed the cars apart. The crumpled door opened. Caitlin fell out like a dead weight, into her mother’s arms. The hubbub around the vehicles grew.

Desi had got to her feet again, and Rebecca began yelling at Desi as she sat cradling her daughter. Then Rick put his head down like a livid bull and charged. He had knocked Desi to the ground and stood over her. It took three men to hold him back.

The light was fading fast by the time the ambulance and the police arrived. Caitlin was taken away first; Desi was next. As her mother was helped onto the back seat, she finally saw Maya. When their eyes locked, Desi stared confusedly at her daughter, as though trying to work out what she was doing there. Then she was gone.

It was only at that point that Maya had registered the crowd. One of her friends from the beach had put an arm around her, telling Maya they would take her home. She had let herself be led away. Rick was left sitting on the lip of the pavement, alone in the twilight, glaring across the road into the distance, towards the darkening grey sea.




When Maya comes out of the trance of her memories, she finds herself in her parked car, staring across the lagoon. She gets out and walks down to the beach, trudging along the sand, sweat soon running down her spine from the midmorning heat. She has forgotten her hat, but she doesn’t care, making her way to the groyne that curves into the water like a lizard’s tail. She steps out along the rocks until she is sitting above the sea, watching the spray flying up, snatches of rainbows appearing briefly within the foam.

She stares into the distance, trying not to remember the little joey’s frightened eyes last night. She wants to be angry, but can only feel numb. She can’t think how she is going to fill her day. She can’t summon up the motivation to get something to eat, let alone figure out the larger goals in her life.

Maya had been full of plans at sixteen. Life seemed awash with choices back then, but now her mind is empty. She knows Pete is nudging her, trying to get her to decide what to do next, but she hardly dares. She needs solid ground in which to plant her dreams. Right now it’s as though she is living on shifting sand.

All these thoughts make her depressed, and her own melancholia begins to piss her off. Stop moaning, she tells herself, getting up to walk back, brushing the sand off her smooth, undamaged legs.

The sun is a Chinese burn on her skin by the time she gets to the car, and her scalp is sore. She is tender inside and out, but tiredness is beginning to override everything. She switches the stereo on full blast, so that the words ring in her head far louder than her unquiet thoughts. Perhaps that is one way to drown a memory – with noise.

Once back in the van, she sweeps aside all the detritus related to the kangaroo. Objects that had appeared portentous and lifesaving last night were nothing more than clutter this morning. She lies down on the bed, and when she opens her eyes again she can’t believe that the sun is going down. She is covered in sweat. She had expected her dreams to be miserable, but her brain had found the void this time, and sleep had been a deadened, empty space.

She sits up and gulps down half a bottle of water. Then she checks her phone. Nothing. She is surprised she hasn’t heard from Luke again, and calls his number, wanting to tell him about the joey. But he doesn’t pick up. After a few more tries, she gets fed up, and sends him a curt message telling him the joey is dead.

She has spent a whole day grieving for one small creature, but to Hayden’s group it will be business as usual. Just another night to drink and have fun, to maim and kill. She’s suddenly angry with Luke. He got her into this; he encouraged her to care, and look where it’s got her. And now, because she expressed emotion, he has discarded her as unfit to join him. Not everyone can be an automaton. Is allowing yourself to feel something really that bad? Her feelings don’t make her weak. In fact, she will prove it. If he won’t involve her, she will go anyway.

She gets up and flings some clothes on, choosing dark colours, and a black beanie. She will go there right now, and do everything she can to stop the wanton killing. When she sees the cars approaching, she’ll make as much noise and movement as possible to frighten the animals off before there’s any danger. Then she’ll do whatever it takes to keep them away. She will show Luke that she is far stronger than he imagines.

Her fury driving her on, she grabs the knife, and stalks out into the night.