Ziggy
06-13-2012, 07:39 AM
Hello! This is a short story I wrote a couple of months ago. It's my first one, and really the first piece of creative writing I've done. I never did anything with it after I wrote it, so since I found this site I thought I'd post it up here to try and get some feedback. It's just general fiction, set in modern Australia, and it's sort of a "day in the life" of an Australian Family, and what happens leading up to a family bbq. There's probably a lot wrong with it that I haven't picked up on, and I could probably cut it down more, but I'd love to get perspective from a fresh set of eyes. Thanks!
Family Outing
Adam rapped on the door, “Jake?”. He tried the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. The bloody kid must have wedged it shut. “You've gotta come out now, we're going to be late,” still nothing. “Oh for Christ's sake”, Adam muttered as he leaned against the door frame and rested his forehead against the wood. Were they really going to go through this again?
“Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you”, no he bloody wasn't, Jake had definitely deserved it. But right now he just wanted his son out of that room, and shouting at him through the door wasn't going to help.
“Son?” he pressed his ear to the door, he couldn't hear any movement. “Your Aunty Brenda will be disappointed if you don't come.” Idly he picked at one of the many stickers that adorned his Jake's door and glanced at his watch, “10:42 AM”. They were going to be late, again.
“We're all waiting for you Jake,” Adam had worked a fingernail under the edge of the sticker and was carefully peeling it away. “Well, I'm going downstairs now, we're leaving in ten minutes, with or without you,” it was worth a try.
As he turned to leave he tore at the rest of the sticker. Most of it came away, but some of the paper remained stubbornly attached to the wood. Another one of Clara's brilliant ideas - getting the kids to decorate their doors with stupid stickers. He knew he would be scraping the damn things off in a few months when they were bored of them. He rolled the torn scrap of paper into a tiny ball as he walked onto the landing.
Clara was standing at the bottom of the stairs, drying her hands on a grey tea towel, “Well?” she said. Adam shrugged in response as he descended the final stairs. Clara sighed and pushed the damp cloth into his chest as she brushed past him to grab a-hold of the banister. “Jacob Matthews, you get out here right now!” his wife's voice trailed away as she stamped up the stairs.
Adam walked into the kitchen and tossed the tea towel onto the bench. After some persuasion the sticky paper ball detached itself from his hand and fell into the bin. He noticed his coffee mug was still sitting on the counter and he touched his hand against it. Thanks son, he thought, as he poured the cold brown liquid down the sink.
A rumbling outside made him look up. Through the half-open blinds of window above the sink, he saw Kevin from next door wheeling his bins in from the street. “One at a time Kev”, Adam mumbled to himself as he watched his neighbour struggle to control the two black wheelie bins. Adam sighed and shook his head, Just making it harder on yourself mate, he thought to himself. Inevitably Kev lost control, and the recycle bin slipped from his hand before clattering to the ground. It was a little bit pathetic, the same routine every week, would he never learn? As Adam watched Kevin bend down to right the bin, his mind strayed back to his son.
They just didn't seem to have control anymore, he couldn't understand it. Jake had been so well behaved when he was a toddler, so quiet. He was getting into trouble at school, his behaviour was becoming unpredictable, even aggressive at times. His teacher had suggested holding him back a year, because “his social skills were underdeveloped”. Yes, he was a bit difficult sometimes, Adam could admit that. But Jake wasn't one of those “special kids”. She was probably the damn problem, her and the other useless teachers at that God-awful school. Or maybe it was just a phase? Maybe he'd just grow out of it? Perhaps they should change schools? Anyway, he and Clara would sort it out.
The door clanged shut as Kevin disappeared back into his house. Adam closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. The whole Jake situation was putting a real strain on their marriage. He and Clara were always fighting these days, usually about Jake. But It'd be alright, they'd get through this. They just needed a break. A weekend away, without the kids. He could mention it to his sister today at the barbeque, the kids loved Helen. She wouldn't mind having them for a couple of days. A bit of R and R would be perfect. A chance to relax, to de-stress. They could go to one of those posh motels in the countryside.
Money was a bit tight at the moment, but it wouldn't cost that much. He could try and get some extra work. Or they could just put it on the card and worry about it later, that worked too. Yeah, he'd mention it to her, they needed this. Better run it by Clara first though, he'd learned the hard way not to “surprise” her if it involved him spending their money.
Adam ran his fingers over his face and opened his eyes. Then he turned around, and leaned back against the sink. Clara had made her standard family barbeque potato salad for today, it sat in a big white bowl opposite him on the counter. Droplets of water had condensed under the thick layer of glad-wrap. Next to it was a bottle of red, with a tack oversized decorative pink bow stuck to its side. Even from here he could see the sticky residue left by the tape on the dark glass from Clara's efforts to get the bow to look “just right”.
A plastic wrapped Newspaper lay on the bench by the kettle, Clara must have brought it in while he was upstairs. His sigh turned into a yawn as he peeled off the plastic before flipping it open to the sports section. Third day of the cricket, and England was already killing us. He looked at his watch again, “11:20”, it usually took about an hour to drive to Brenda's place. They were supposed to be there for midday, so much for that. He wondered how long would it take Clara to talk Jake down, and then decided he might as well turn on the TV and check the score.
Adam walked into the living room, straight to the TV cabinet. He picked up the remote and was about to switch on the TV when he heard sniffling behind him. His daughter Rosie was sitting on the sofa, still clutching Oscar, her eyes red and puffy. The pink ribbon in her hair had come loose and her white dress was ruffled. Reluctantly he put the remote down and walked over to her. As he approached she looked down at her knees. Adam sat down next to her. He didn't know what to say, he'd never been good at this sort of thing. She hiccuped, a tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Adam noticed that she was holding something in her little fist. “What's that in your hand Rosie?” another hiccup escaped as she held out her hand and uncurled her fingers. It was one of Oscar's purple legs, white stuffing poked out the top where it had torn away from his body. “Can I...?” Adam took the foot from her and frowned as he studied it. “No time to lose” he stood up and held out his other hand to Rosie. “Come with me, and bring the patient”. Another hiccup, still clutching Oscar, she slowly wriggled off the sofa and took her fathers hand.
Oscar lay in the middle of the kitchen island, next to an open first aid kit. They had treated his wound thoroughly, the purple giraffe now had one white stripe of bandage circling its torso. “The patient is stable Nurse, well done”, Rosie grinned. He handed her the foot, opened the freezer above the fridge and then lifted her off the kitchen island up to it, “Where do I put it?”
“Hmmm... Good question Nurse... With the fish fingers?”
“But what if mum cooks it on accident?”
“Roast giraffe foot?” he pulled a face, Rosie giggled. “You're right, that's no good. How about on top of the peas? Do you concur?”
“I concur!” she placed the foot on top of the packet of frozen peas, Adam put her down and swung the freezer door shut. Who would've thought all those melodramatic medical shows that Clara watched would actually come in handy for something? “Your Mum will operate on him tonight, after the barbeque.” Rosie stared up at him expectantly, he wasn't sure where to go form here, “...Okay?”
“Okay” she replied, happily. She wasn't crying anymore, and she'd stopped hiccuping, a job well done. “Now it's a long drive to Aunty Brenda's, so you'd better go to the toilet now because we'll be leaving soon”.
“Yes Dad”, she turned to leave, but stopped. He was about to ask her what was wrong, when she sprang forward and hugged him around the waist. Before he had time to react she had released him and hurried off towards the bathroom.
Clara glanced down the hall at Rosie as she entered the Kitchen. She raised her eyebrows at Adam,“All good?”
“Yeah, she's fine.”
“What's this?” Clara gestured to the kitchen island, the two of them had made quite a mess.
“One of Oscar's legs came off, I said you'd sew it back on later... it's in the freezer”
“Okay...” she paused, “Listen-”, “Hey-”, she and Adam had spoken at same time.
“Jake will be down in a minute”, Clara said, quickly filling the awkward silence that followed.
“Good. So, I was thinking-”, he stopped when Clara cut him off.
“They weren't fighting over a toy”
“No?” Did it really matter?
“Rosie was teasing him, about being kept down. She must have heard us talking about it”
Adam shook his head slightly, sighed, and a small pained laugh briefly escaped him, there was always something.
“I'll have a word with her, but later okay? We're late enough as it is.”
“We do need to make a decision about Jake. Sally really thinks it would be in his best interests, it's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Sally?”
“Miss Martin”
“You've been talking to his teacher without me?”
“She rang up the other day for a 'chat'”
“He's not failing, he doesn't need to repeat, I don't know why we're even discussing it”
“He's very nearly failing, he's not keeping up with-” Clara's hands rose up in front of her, as though to physically stop that thread of discussion. “But it's not about that, it's about his behaviour, you know that.” Yes, he knew, she'd told often enough. Adam heard the dull thudding of Jake making a slow march down the stairs. “Look can we talk about this later? We need to get a move on”
“Tonight?”
Adam gave a non-committal grunt as he grabbed the bottle of wine off the bench before exiting the kitchen.
Clara rolled her eyes, he'd been putting it off for ages. Did he just think it would magically sort itself out if he ignored it long enough? She pulled a few stray strands of hair back behind her ear, picked up the potato salad and followed her husband out into the hall.
Jake had his smart shirt on and Clara had brushed his hair down flat, he looked almost presentable. There was a loud thud as he jumped off the last step. “Alright son?” Jake was staring at his shoes and didn't reply, he was still sulking then. There was a dull rushing of water, the plumbing groaned, and Rosie came skipping down the hall towards them. They were finally ready to leave.
“Let's get this show on the road then”, Adam led them out of the house, Clara shepherding the kids from the rear. Rosie skipped along close behind her father, and Jake dragged his feet. He locked the door behind them, and they piled into the car. Clara placed the Salad bowl on the back seat, in the space between Jake and Rosie, as a sort of makeshift barrier. Adam glanced at his watch, “12:00”, right on the dot. He turned the key, revved the engine, and, finally, they were off.
“Don't you dare...”, the lights turned orange. Adam pushed his foot down and sped through the intersection. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his wife turn towards him. “What?” Clara gave him the look, “nothing”, she returned to staring out the window. Adam glanced at the clock on the car's stereo, they were so late now. He'd had to stop the car twice. First it had been Jake complaining that he needed the toilet, so he'd pulled into a petrol station. Of course when he'd taken him into the Men's he didn't even go. Then Jake wouldn't stop kicking the back of Adam's seat. So he'd had to pull over again and swap the kids around. Little brat didn't kick his mother's seat did he?
“...and that's it! He's out! Australia 6 for 134...” Adam turned up the volume on the radio. Who was out? The kids were playing I-spy, but they were getting a little more animated than was necessary, “Quiet down you two, Daddy's trying to listen”. Just then the theme tune of Sex and the City started playing and Clara's hand dived into her purse and retrieved her mobile. “Julie,” she read from the screen. Before Adam could say, “Just let it go to voice message”, she had flipped it open and put it to her ear. “Julie, how are y- what's wrong?” Adam could hear Julie sobbing into phone. Not again, why didn't she just leave him? “It'll be alright, just take deep breaths”, he really didn't want to listen to this, he turned the radio up louder, “Australia are going to have to do better than this if-”. “Hang on a second Julie”, Clara reached over and switched the radio off, Adam got the look again. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and ground his teeth as he listened to his wife console the wet blanket.
In the back the kids were still playing I-spy.
“Sky?”
“Nope”
“Street??”
“Nope”
“Sign?!?!”
“Nope!”
“...I give up!”
“Ha! It was School”
“What?”
“Scchhhoooooollll”
“Where?”
“Passed it ages ago”
“That's not fair!”
“Don't be such a baby”
“Mum! Jake is cheating!”
Maybe he needed some time away from all of them?
Once they'd got off the highway they hadn't had any more problems with traffic. “Not long now kids”, he glanced at them in the mirror. They were still playing their little game and didn't pay him any attention. Clara hadn't said a word since she'd got off the phone. She was in one of her bloody moods again. The silent treatment suited him fine, he'd had enough of her for today. He just needed to get through this barbeque. If only he could have a few beers, everything was better a few beers. In fact, bugger it, she could drive home, he really needed a drink.
“Come on...”, the arrow was green. “MOVE!”, Adam honked the horn, the little Toyota finally got the message. It took off, slowly, and he tailgated it around the corner. “Oh for god's sake...” could it be any slower? Adam silently cursed the owners of the parked cars that lined the street, there was no room to get past.
Sporadic shouts were coming from the back seat. Apparently I-spy had devolved into punch buggy, and that game never ended well. "Clara", Adam tried to get her attention. The Toyota was drifting across the road in front of them, he slapped his hand on the steering wheel. "Clara! Shut those kids up would you?!" That got a reaction. "Jake, stop it", she reached into the back, groping for the child's arm. The shouting grew louder.
As Clara twisted around in her seat, her hair brushed at Adam's face, his jaw clenched. Then there was a scream, and Adam's hand jerked on the steering wheel. "Jake!", Clara took off her seat-belt and turned to face their children, kneeling on her seat. "You don't bite Jake! Let go of her!" Adam's muscled tensed each time his wife bumped against him as she tried to separate the two children.
Their turn off was coming up, this idiot in front of them had better not be turning as well. But the Toyota continued straight on, 'bout bloody time. He pushed his foot down hard on the accelerator as they rounded the corner, "Jesus Adam!" Clara slumped back down into her seat, holding her head where it had hit the window. “Would you slow down?!” Clara's face was losing its colour. One hand was still pressed against her head as the other struggled with her seat-belt.
They drove straight past a white weatherboard house, cars were parked on the front lawn and balloons had been strung to the veranda. Adam pulled hard on the wheel, and the car bounced violently as they mounted the curb. Clara gave up on the seat-belt and braced her arms against the dash as her husband slammed on the brakes. Sobs were still coming from Rosie in the back, but Jake had gone quiet.
Adam wrenched up the hand brake, tore off his seat belt and threw open his door. "Adam don't!" Clara fumbled with the door handle as she watched her husband walk around the car. He pulled open the back door and she saw his strong hand grip their son's upper arm.
Jake struggled as his father undid his seat-belt. Clara had the door open now but hurriedly pulled it in as a car sped past. This time she looked before she opened it. She tried again to get out, but fell back in her seat holding her head, now looking very pale. The world spun around her, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to quell her growing her nausea.
Jake caught the rim of the salad bowl as Adam dragged him, kicking and screaming, from the car. Clara's potato salad smashed onto the footpath as it fell out with Jake. Adam pulled the child to his feet and shook him roughly, “Look what you've done!” Jake's breathing was shallow and tears were welling up in his eyes. “Stop it!” he growled, as Jake beat at his wrist with his free hand. Adam slipped on the slimy mess beneath his feet as he struggled with his son and seized onto the car door to stop himself from falling. There were deep red finger marks around Jake's arm where his father had been holding him. Adam grabbed at him again, but he slid out of reach, “Jake!”
His son backed away as he advanced. “Jake...” Adam stopped on the edge of the pavement. “Come here son,” Jake's eyes were fixed on his father, his breathing was panicked. “It's alright son, just come back over here”.
A white four wheel drive turned into the street at the far end. Adam took a small step forwards, Jake took a step backwards and stumbled off the nature-strip into the gutter. “Jake, get off the road!” The four wheel drive was getting closer, the music blaring from its open windows was getting louder. A horrible feeling formed in the pit of Adam's stomach.
Jake was standing in the road, eyes locked on his father. His vision was blurry with tears and each breath caught in his throat, suffocating him. He needed to get away, to run, to escape. “Get off the bloody road!” there was the yelling again, why did his dad have to yell? Jake searched desperately for a way out. He tore his eyes away from his father and looked to their car, there was Mum. He tried to call out to her, but only a hoarse croak exited his lips. She was just sitting there, why wasn't she helping him?
Movement. Jake's eyes flashed back to his father, he was closer. Jake slowly backed away, he looked behind himself, still searching for somewhere to hide. And then across the road he recognised his Auntie's house, he'd be safe there. He ran towards it, his father's angry shouts ringing in his ears. He'd only taken a few steps, when a loud screeching stopped him in his tracks, and he turned towards it. The white four wheel drive loomed up before him. The sight rooted Jake to the spot and he stood there, frozen, in its path.
Clara's eyes opened, several feet in front of the bonnet stood Jake, what was he doing? She took a slow, deep breath. The spinning had stopped now, but she still felt very faint. She was about to open the door when Jake suddenly spun around and ran into the road. A white car flashed past the window, tyres screeching. She screamed.
The four wheel drive swerved, but too late. And then Jake felt his shirt tighten around his chest, and suddenly he was pulled backwards. For a moment all he could see was the white of the four wheel drive. The car screeched past, inches from his face.
Adam held his son in his arms. He'd only just been able to pull him back in time. A torrent of emotions had passed through him; fear, anger, guilt. Now there was only relief. He still had his son. “Don't ever do that again”, he said softly. Clara was there now, hugging them both. Rosie had wriggled over the seat and out through the still open back door. She hung back sheepishly before Adam had pulled her into the embrace as well.
A terrified looking young woman was running towards them. “I'm so sorry. Is he okay? I never saw him!” Adam assured her that they were all fine, but she was very upset and Clara had to sit down with her for awhile to calm her down. Rosie had followed her mother, now it was just him and Jake again.
“You scared me son”, Jake still hadn't said anything, was it shock?
And then he spoke, “Sorry I made us late Dad”, it was barely more than a whisper.
“It doesn't matter Jake, it's not important.”
“But, they're waiting?”
“They won't mind. We'll go in when we're ready,” Adam hugged his son.
Family Outing
Adam rapped on the door, “Jake?”. He tried the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. The bloody kid must have wedged it shut. “You've gotta come out now, we're going to be late,” still nothing. “Oh for Christ's sake”, Adam muttered as he leaned against the door frame and rested his forehead against the wood. Were they really going to go through this again?
“Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you”, no he bloody wasn't, Jake had definitely deserved it. But right now he just wanted his son out of that room, and shouting at him through the door wasn't going to help.
“Son?” he pressed his ear to the door, he couldn't hear any movement. “Your Aunty Brenda will be disappointed if you don't come.” Idly he picked at one of the many stickers that adorned his Jake's door and glanced at his watch, “10:42 AM”. They were going to be late, again.
“We're all waiting for you Jake,” Adam had worked a fingernail under the edge of the sticker and was carefully peeling it away. “Well, I'm going downstairs now, we're leaving in ten minutes, with or without you,” it was worth a try.
As he turned to leave he tore at the rest of the sticker. Most of it came away, but some of the paper remained stubbornly attached to the wood. Another one of Clara's brilliant ideas - getting the kids to decorate their doors with stupid stickers. He knew he would be scraping the damn things off in a few months when they were bored of them. He rolled the torn scrap of paper into a tiny ball as he walked onto the landing.
Clara was standing at the bottom of the stairs, drying her hands on a grey tea towel, “Well?” she said. Adam shrugged in response as he descended the final stairs. Clara sighed and pushed the damp cloth into his chest as she brushed past him to grab a-hold of the banister. “Jacob Matthews, you get out here right now!” his wife's voice trailed away as she stamped up the stairs.
Adam walked into the kitchen and tossed the tea towel onto the bench. After some persuasion the sticky paper ball detached itself from his hand and fell into the bin. He noticed his coffee mug was still sitting on the counter and he touched his hand against it. Thanks son, he thought, as he poured the cold brown liquid down the sink.
A rumbling outside made him look up. Through the half-open blinds of window above the sink, he saw Kevin from next door wheeling his bins in from the street. “One at a time Kev”, Adam mumbled to himself as he watched his neighbour struggle to control the two black wheelie bins. Adam sighed and shook his head, Just making it harder on yourself mate, he thought to himself. Inevitably Kev lost control, and the recycle bin slipped from his hand before clattering to the ground. It was a little bit pathetic, the same routine every week, would he never learn? As Adam watched Kevin bend down to right the bin, his mind strayed back to his son.
They just didn't seem to have control anymore, he couldn't understand it. Jake had been so well behaved when he was a toddler, so quiet. He was getting into trouble at school, his behaviour was becoming unpredictable, even aggressive at times. His teacher had suggested holding him back a year, because “his social skills were underdeveloped”. Yes, he was a bit difficult sometimes, Adam could admit that. But Jake wasn't one of those “special kids”. She was probably the damn problem, her and the other useless teachers at that God-awful school. Or maybe it was just a phase? Maybe he'd just grow out of it? Perhaps they should change schools? Anyway, he and Clara would sort it out.
The door clanged shut as Kevin disappeared back into his house. Adam closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. The whole Jake situation was putting a real strain on their marriage. He and Clara were always fighting these days, usually about Jake. But It'd be alright, they'd get through this. They just needed a break. A weekend away, without the kids. He could mention it to his sister today at the barbeque, the kids loved Helen. She wouldn't mind having them for a couple of days. A bit of R and R would be perfect. A chance to relax, to de-stress. They could go to one of those posh motels in the countryside.
Money was a bit tight at the moment, but it wouldn't cost that much. He could try and get some extra work. Or they could just put it on the card and worry about it later, that worked too. Yeah, he'd mention it to her, they needed this. Better run it by Clara first though, he'd learned the hard way not to “surprise” her if it involved him spending their money.
Adam ran his fingers over his face and opened his eyes. Then he turned around, and leaned back against the sink. Clara had made her standard family barbeque potato salad for today, it sat in a big white bowl opposite him on the counter. Droplets of water had condensed under the thick layer of glad-wrap. Next to it was a bottle of red, with a tack oversized decorative pink bow stuck to its side. Even from here he could see the sticky residue left by the tape on the dark glass from Clara's efforts to get the bow to look “just right”.
A plastic wrapped Newspaper lay on the bench by the kettle, Clara must have brought it in while he was upstairs. His sigh turned into a yawn as he peeled off the plastic before flipping it open to the sports section. Third day of the cricket, and England was already killing us. He looked at his watch again, “11:20”, it usually took about an hour to drive to Brenda's place. They were supposed to be there for midday, so much for that. He wondered how long would it take Clara to talk Jake down, and then decided he might as well turn on the TV and check the score.
Adam walked into the living room, straight to the TV cabinet. He picked up the remote and was about to switch on the TV when he heard sniffling behind him. His daughter Rosie was sitting on the sofa, still clutching Oscar, her eyes red and puffy. The pink ribbon in her hair had come loose and her white dress was ruffled. Reluctantly he put the remote down and walked over to her. As he approached she looked down at her knees. Adam sat down next to her. He didn't know what to say, he'd never been good at this sort of thing. She hiccuped, a tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Adam noticed that she was holding something in her little fist. “What's that in your hand Rosie?” another hiccup escaped as she held out her hand and uncurled her fingers. It was one of Oscar's purple legs, white stuffing poked out the top where it had torn away from his body. “Can I...?” Adam took the foot from her and frowned as he studied it. “No time to lose” he stood up and held out his other hand to Rosie. “Come with me, and bring the patient”. Another hiccup, still clutching Oscar, she slowly wriggled off the sofa and took her fathers hand.
Oscar lay in the middle of the kitchen island, next to an open first aid kit. They had treated his wound thoroughly, the purple giraffe now had one white stripe of bandage circling its torso. “The patient is stable Nurse, well done”, Rosie grinned. He handed her the foot, opened the freezer above the fridge and then lifted her off the kitchen island up to it, “Where do I put it?”
“Hmmm... Good question Nurse... With the fish fingers?”
“But what if mum cooks it on accident?”
“Roast giraffe foot?” he pulled a face, Rosie giggled. “You're right, that's no good. How about on top of the peas? Do you concur?”
“I concur!” she placed the foot on top of the packet of frozen peas, Adam put her down and swung the freezer door shut. Who would've thought all those melodramatic medical shows that Clara watched would actually come in handy for something? “Your Mum will operate on him tonight, after the barbeque.” Rosie stared up at him expectantly, he wasn't sure where to go form here, “...Okay?”
“Okay” she replied, happily. She wasn't crying anymore, and she'd stopped hiccuping, a job well done. “Now it's a long drive to Aunty Brenda's, so you'd better go to the toilet now because we'll be leaving soon”.
“Yes Dad”, she turned to leave, but stopped. He was about to ask her what was wrong, when she sprang forward and hugged him around the waist. Before he had time to react she had released him and hurried off towards the bathroom.
Clara glanced down the hall at Rosie as she entered the Kitchen. She raised her eyebrows at Adam,“All good?”
“Yeah, she's fine.”
“What's this?” Clara gestured to the kitchen island, the two of them had made quite a mess.
“One of Oscar's legs came off, I said you'd sew it back on later... it's in the freezer”
“Okay...” she paused, “Listen-”, “Hey-”, she and Adam had spoken at same time.
“Jake will be down in a minute”, Clara said, quickly filling the awkward silence that followed.
“Good. So, I was thinking-”, he stopped when Clara cut him off.
“They weren't fighting over a toy”
“No?” Did it really matter?
“Rosie was teasing him, about being kept down. She must have heard us talking about it”
Adam shook his head slightly, sighed, and a small pained laugh briefly escaped him, there was always something.
“I'll have a word with her, but later okay? We're late enough as it is.”
“We do need to make a decision about Jake. Sally really thinks it would be in his best interests, it's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Sally?”
“Miss Martin”
“You've been talking to his teacher without me?”
“She rang up the other day for a 'chat'”
“He's not failing, he doesn't need to repeat, I don't know why we're even discussing it”
“He's very nearly failing, he's not keeping up with-” Clara's hands rose up in front of her, as though to physically stop that thread of discussion. “But it's not about that, it's about his behaviour, you know that.” Yes, he knew, she'd told often enough. Adam heard the dull thudding of Jake making a slow march down the stairs. “Look can we talk about this later? We need to get a move on”
“Tonight?”
Adam gave a non-committal grunt as he grabbed the bottle of wine off the bench before exiting the kitchen.
Clara rolled her eyes, he'd been putting it off for ages. Did he just think it would magically sort itself out if he ignored it long enough? She pulled a few stray strands of hair back behind her ear, picked up the potato salad and followed her husband out into the hall.
Jake had his smart shirt on and Clara had brushed his hair down flat, he looked almost presentable. There was a loud thud as he jumped off the last step. “Alright son?” Jake was staring at his shoes and didn't reply, he was still sulking then. There was a dull rushing of water, the plumbing groaned, and Rosie came skipping down the hall towards them. They were finally ready to leave.
“Let's get this show on the road then”, Adam led them out of the house, Clara shepherding the kids from the rear. Rosie skipped along close behind her father, and Jake dragged his feet. He locked the door behind them, and they piled into the car. Clara placed the Salad bowl on the back seat, in the space between Jake and Rosie, as a sort of makeshift barrier. Adam glanced at his watch, “12:00”, right on the dot. He turned the key, revved the engine, and, finally, they were off.
“Don't you dare...”, the lights turned orange. Adam pushed his foot down and sped through the intersection. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his wife turn towards him. “What?” Clara gave him the look, “nothing”, she returned to staring out the window. Adam glanced at the clock on the car's stereo, they were so late now. He'd had to stop the car twice. First it had been Jake complaining that he needed the toilet, so he'd pulled into a petrol station. Of course when he'd taken him into the Men's he didn't even go. Then Jake wouldn't stop kicking the back of Adam's seat. So he'd had to pull over again and swap the kids around. Little brat didn't kick his mother's seat did he?
“...and that's it! He's out! Australia 6 for 134...” Adam turned up the volume on the radio. Who was out? The kids were playing I-spy, but they were getting a little more animated than was necessary, “Quiet down you two, Daddy's trying to listen”. Just then the theme tune of Sex and the City started playing and Clara's hand dived into her purse and retrieved her mobile. “Julie,” she read from the screen. Before Adam could say, “Just let it go to voice message”, she had flipped it open and put it to her ear. “Julie, how are y- what's wrong?” Adam could hear Julie sobbing into phone. Not again, why didn't she just leave him? “It'll be alright, just take deep breaths”, he really didn't want to listen to this, he turned the radio up louder, “Australia are going to have to do better than this if-”. “Hang on a second Julie”, Clara reached over and switched the radio off, Adam got the look again. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and ground his teeth as he listened to his wife console the wet blanket.
In the back the kids were still playing I-spy.
“Sky?”
“Nope”
“Street??”
“Nope”
“Sign?!?!”
“Nope!”
“...I give up!”
“Ha! It was School”
“What?”
“Scchhhoooooollll”
“Where?”
“Passed it ages ago”
“That's not fair!”
“Don't be such a baby”
“Mum! Jake is cheating!”
Maybe he needed some time away from all of them?
Once they'd got off the highway they hadn't had any more problems with traffic. “Not long now kids”, he glanced at them in the mirror. They were still playing their little game and didn't pay him any attention. Clara hadn't said a word since she'd got off the phone. She was in one of her bloody moods again. The silent treatment suited him fine, he'd had enough of her for today. He just needed to get through this barbeque. If only he could have a few beers, everything was better a few beers. In fact, bugger it, she could drive home, he really needed a drink.
“Come on...”, the arrow was green. “MOVE!”, Adam honked the horn, the little Toyota finally got the message. It took off, slowly, and he tailgated it around the corner. “Oh for god's sake...” could it be any slower? Adam silently cursed the owners of the parked cars that lined the street, there was no room to get past.
Sporadic shouts were coming from the back seat. Apparently I-spy had devolved into punch buggy, and that game never ended well. "Clara", Adam tried to get her attention. The Toyota was drifting across the road in front of them, he slapped his hand on the steering wheel. "Clara! Shut those kids up would you?!" That got a reaction. "Jake, stop it", she reached into the back, groping for the child's arm. The shouting grew louder.
As Clara twisted around in her seat, her hair brushed at Adam's face, his jaw clenched. Then there was a scream, and Adam's hand jerked on the steering wheel. "Jake!", Clara took off her seat-belt and turned to face their children, kneeling on her seat. "You don't bite Jake! Let go of her!" Adam's muscled tensed each time his wife bumped against him as she tried to separate the two children.
Their turn off was coming up, this idiot in front of them had better not be turning as well. But the Toyota continued straight on, 'bout bloody time. He pushed his foot down hard on the accelerator as they rounded the corner, "Jesus Adam!" Clara slumped back down into her seat, holding her head where it had hit the window. “Would you slow down?!” Clara's face was losing its colour. One hand was still pressed against her head as the other struggled with her seat-belt.
They drove straight past a white weatherboard house, cars were parked on the front lawn and balloons had been strung to the veranda. Adam pulled hard on the wheel, and the car bounced violently as they mounted the curb. Clara gave up on the seat-belt and braced her arms against the dash as her husband slammed on the brakes. Sobs were still coming from Rosie in the back, but Jake had gone quiet.
Adam wrenched up the hand brake, tore off his seat belt and threw open his door. "Adam don't!" Clara fumbled with the door handle as she watched her husband walk around the car. He pulled open the back door and she saw his strong hand grip their son's upper arm.
Jake struggled as his father undid his seat-belt. Clara had the door open now but hurriedly pulled it in as a car sped past. This time she looked before she opened it. She tried again to get out, but fell back in her seat holding her head, now looking very pale. The world spun around her, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to quell her growing her nausea.
Jake caught the rim of the salad bowl as Adam dragged him, kicking and screaming, from the car. Clara's potato salad smashed onto the footpath as it fell out with Jake. Adam pulled the child to his feet and shook him roughly, “Look what you've done!” Jake's breathing was shallow and tears were welling up in his eyes. “Stop it!” he growled, as Jake beat at his wrist with his free hand. Adam slipped on the slimy mess beneath his feet as he struggled with his son and seized onto the car door to stop himself from falling. There were deep red finger marks around Jake's arm where his father had been holding him. Adam grabbed at him again, but he slid out of reach, “Jake!”
His son backed away as he advanced. “Jake...” Adam stopped on the edge of the pavement. “Come here son,” Jake's eyes were fixed on his father, his breathing was panicked. “It's alright son, just come back over here”.
A white four wheel drive turned into the street at the far end. Adam took a small step forwards, Jake took a step backwards and stumbled off the nature-strip into the gutter. “Jake, get off the road!” The four wheel drive was getting closer, the music blaring from its open windows was getting louder. A horrible feeling formed in the pit of Adam's stomach.
Jake was standing in the road, eyes locked on his father. His vision was blurry with tears and each breath caught in his throat, suffocating him. He needed to get away, to run, to escape. “Get off the bloody road!” there was the yelling again, why did his dad have to yell? Jake searched desperately for a way out. He tore his eyes away from his father and looked to their car, there was Mum. He tried to call out to her, but only a hoarse croak exited his lips. She was just sitting there, why wasn't she helping him?
Movement. Jake's eyes flashed back to his father, he was closer. Jake slowly backed away, he looked behind himself, still searching for somewhere to hide. And then across the road he recognised his Auntie's house, he'd be safe there. He ran towards it, his father's angry shouts ringing in his ears. He'd only taken a few steps, when a loud screeching stopped him in his tracks, and he turned towards it. The white four wheel drive loomed up before him. The sight rooted Jake to the spot and he stood there, frozen, in its path.
Clara's eyes opened, several feet in front of the bonnet stood Jake, what was he doing? She took a slow, deep breath. The spinning had stopped now, but she still felt very faint. She was about to open the door when Jake suddenly spun around and ran into the road. A white car flashed past the window, tyres screeching. She screamed.
The four wheel drive swerved, but too late. And then Jake felt his shirt tighten around his chest, and suddenly he was pulled backwards. For a moment all he could see was the white of the four wheel drive. The car screeched past, inches from his face.
Adam held his son in his arms. He'd only just been able to pull him back in time. A torrent of emotions had passed through him; fear, anger, guilt. Now there was only relief. He still had his son. “Don't ever do that again”, he said softly. Clara was there now, hugging them both. Rosie had wriggled over the seat and out through the still open back door. She hung back sheepishly before Adam had pulled her into the embrace as well.
A terrified looking young woman was running towards them. “I'm so sorry. Is he okay? I never saw him!” Adam assured her that they were all fine, but she was very upset and Clara had to sit down with her for awhile to calm her down. Rosie had followed her mother, now it was just him and Jake again.
“You scared me son”, Jake still hadn't said anything, was it shock?
And then he spoke, “Sorry I made us late Dad”, it was barely more than a whisper.
“It doesn't matter Jake, it's not important.”
“But, they're waiting?”
“They won't mind. We'll go in when we're ready,” Adam hugged his son.