Chapter 6
Three words: God damn Miffy.
I wasn’t really in the mood for walking him, especially when I had to wait around quite a while for Rube.
At first, I sat in the kitchen with Octavia.
She didn’t look too impressed with things, considering she and Rube were supposed to be going out that afternoon. It must have slipped Rube’s mind. At least, that was what I told her. Me, though? I knew. Rube was away from her on purpose. I’d seen him do this before.
Come in late.
Argue.
Tell them he doesn’t need this garbage.
It was a pretty good technique for Rube. He didn’t mind being the villain.
There were leftovers on offer, but Octavia didn’t stay for them. I walked out with her and we remained on the front porch a while, talking, and even managing to laugh now and then. Next door, I think Miffy could hear us and was expecting his walk. He sounded agitated at first, then started going off his nut.
“I’ll just go get him,” I said, and quickly went next door to pick up the little bastard.
When we got back, I noticed Octavia was shivering.
As she stroked the dog, I took off my jacket and offered it to her. She accepted it, and soon after she said, “It’s warm, Cam.” She looked just past me. “It’s the warmest I’ve felt for a while….”
In a way, I hoped she wasn’t just talking about the jacket, but it was better not to think that way. When you think like that, you end up standing outside people’s houses, waiting for something that never comes.
She gave it back when we walked down to the gate and I opened it for her.
The moon was stuck to the sky and Octavia said, “The’s no point coming back really, is there?”
“Why?” I replied.
“Don’t why me, Cameron.” She looked away and glanced back. “Don’t worry about it.” Even when she leaned onto the gate with her hands and her voice became unsteady, Octavia looked great, and I don’t mean that in a dirty kind of way. I just mean that I liked her. I felt sorry for her, and for what Rube was doing to her. Her eyes smiled at me, for just a moment. One of those hurt smiles a person gives you to let you know they’re okay, even though they’re far from it.
After that, she left.
When she was just past the gate, I asked, “Octavia?” She turned around. “Y’ gonna come back?” “Maybe,” she smiled. “One day.”
She walked along our street and it was cold and brutal and beautiful. For a few seconds, I hated my brother Rube for what he was doing to her.
Also, watching her walk slowly up our street, I remembered what Rube had said about Octavia and him following me one day when I walked over to Glebe and stood outside Stephanie’s house. I could clearly see the image of them looking at me. Looking at me looking. She must have thought I was pathetic. A bit of a lonely bastard, as Rube put it. Maybe now, as she walked up the street, she knew how I felt.
Somehow, though, I understood that it was thoughts of Rube that filled her. Not thoughts of me. Maybe she was thinking of his hands on her, the thrill of it. Maybe it was laughter she remembered, or the words of a conversation. I would never know. I sat down again and Miffy jumped on my lap. As I watched Octavia, Miffy watched me, and when the girl had disappeared completely, the dog was giving me a certain look.
“What?” I asked him, but of course, he didn’t answer. The dog looked like he’d genuinely caught me out, but soon enough, he returned to his usual disgusting self, yawning in my face. “Your breath smells like a cesspool,” I said, and we waited for Rube.
He came in late for dinner and the old man gave him a good serve for it, as well as for leaving Octavia out to dry. I made sure to keep out of it. All I did was hang around with Miffy until Rube came out.
It was absolutely bloody freezing now and I wasn’t in the mood.
The air was cold enough for us to wear our hoods indefinitely, and to watch the smoke pour from our mouths when we breathed.
Smoke came from Miffy’s mouth too, especially when he had a bit of a coughing fit. That was when we quickened the pace for home.
Later, we watched TV.
I looked over at my brother. He could sense it. “What?” he said.
I was on the couch and Rube was in the worn-through chair.
“Is Octavia gone?” He looked.
First away. The back at me. Yes.
That was the answer and Rube knew he didn’t have to say it.
“There a new one?”
Again, he didn’t have to answer.
“What’s her name?”
He waited a while, then said it. “Julia … but relax, Cam — I haven’t done anything yet.” I nodded.
I nodded and swallowed and I wished hard that it didn’t have to be this way, for Octavia. I couldn’t have cared less about Rube at this point. I thought only of the poor girl, and I thought of a time a few years ago when Sarah got dumped by this one particular guy. I remembered how shattered she was, especially when she found out there was another girl.
Rube and I hated the guy who did that.
We wanted to kill him.
Rube especially.
Now that guy was Rube.
For a moment, I nearly mentioned it, but all I did was sit there stupidly and look at Rube’s face, side-on. There was no remorse in him. Almost no trace of thought about what he was doing.
Julia.
I could only wonder what she’d be like.
The only problem for Rube was that Octavia wanted to find things out for sure, so she came over again during the week.
They went out to the yard, and after a few minutes, she came back through the house on her own. When she saw me, she said, “I’ll see you, Cameron,” and again, she gave me that courageous smile — the one I saw the other night. Only this time, her green eyes were soaked more definitely, the water rising higher, only just managing not to fall out. She gathered herself and we stood in the hall and she said one last time, “I’ll see you around.”
“No you won’t,” and I smiled back at her. We both knew that people didn’t see Cameron Wolfe — at least not unless they walked through the streets of the city a lot.
This time, when she left, she told me not to come out, but secretly, I stood on the front porch and watched her disappear.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I figured that was the last time I’d ever see Rube’s girl Octavia.
I was wrong.
WALK ON
At times I’ve wondered harder than usual about the girl in Glebe, where I constantly wait in the guttered city street. I wonder if she ever sees me.
I wonder if she sees me, knows me, or even likes the fact that I stand outside her house, or waiting in vain. I wonder when I walk away if she might be pulling the curtain just slightly aside to watch me leaving. God, I imagine it so hard. So hard that it claws me. Yet, I never turn around.
I just keep walking on because that’s what I do. I never speak or shout or show anyone I’m there. I never allow my hand to form a fist and knock on the wood of her frightening front door. Me?
I just walk on and never turn around.
And do you know why?
It’s because I’m afraid she won’t be there, watching for me.
When I walk on without looking, at least there’s still some hope.