New Kahala

I kiss her on the head. "Shut up Kitty."

She does and I just hold on to her. We sit like that for a few minutes until she speaks again, "Come on."

Jumping up she pretends to push me into the creek and I startle, trying to keep my balance.

"Gotcha." She laughs at me then offers me a hand up. "We best get back, I'm tired and they'll be wondering where we are."

"Ok, you go on ahead and I'll follow." I smirk and deliberately check out her butt.

I'm rewarded with her snorting chuckle, "Pervert."

"All day, every day."

In the moonlight she is lit silver and grey and the only colour is the deep purple of her eyes on mine.

"You're a good bloke for a dickhead, Jim. Come down here a moment."

She presses her wet lips against mine and they linger for seconds longer than any of her previous quick pecks. I can smell her skin and her hair and drink her in. An animal part of me wonders if I could put aside my uncertain emotions and simply respond to this kiss and take advantage of the beautiful girl in front of me. Then she pulls away. "Thanks Jim. Thanks for... Just..."

"Shh... Come on." I take her hand and we walk back down the long driveway to the house in silence.

We return to an empty house. The television is off and I can hear Blue snoring away down the hall.

"You want Sassies bed or the couch?" Trina asks.

"Either way, too tired to care much."

"Me too. I like the couch."

Watching her arrange herself on the couch and pull the thin blanket over herself, I catch myself smiling.

"Night Kitty."

"Night Jim."

I tuck the blanket up under her chin and kiss her on the forehead then find Sasha's room and flop down on the bed. Sleep eludes me despite my weariness. If what Denise said is true and Trina has feelings for me, what are mine for her? I saw her this afternoon in those shorts and later on the couch for the first times as a sexual being. Until then she was a friend; just wonderful companionship and helpful distraction. Or was she?

These days I look forward to the weekends, as much for spending time with Trina as for escaping the city. I forget Sasha's urging to keep Trina busy and involve her because I enjoy her presence as much as anything else. Could I be? I find I hardly ever think of Sasha when I'm busy with Trina. In fact, through the week I'm beginning to wonder what Trina is up to more often. I spend far less time looking through Sasha's facebook pictures and posts than I used to. Mostly because it's... well no it's not painful anymore, it just seems like wasted time.

The door opens and a little blonde head above a wrapped around blanket pleads with her wet purple eyes. "Can't sleep."

I pat the bed beside me, and she walks around and lies above the blankets wrapped in her own.

"What's the matter Kitty."

"Nothing." She sniffs and snuggles under the arm I drape across her, pulling my hand up to her shoulder, "Nothing now."

And just like that my thinking settles too and I just relish the nearness of someone. Sleep claims her quickly and I topple into dreams beside her.

I wake late in the morning. It's after nine-thirty when Trina waves coffee smells at me.

"Morning sleepy. Brekky is going cold." She says standing beside the bed with her coffee. "Come on, Denise is dying to quiz you about our sleeping arrangements last night. I'm teasing her by pretending I'm too embarrassed to discuss it. She thinks we did the nasty, I reckon."

"You're a shocker."

"She was standing in the doorway watching us sleep when I woke up this morning. So she saw me above the sheets, it's killing her though."

"Fuck my life..." I laugh then remembering my morning boner, "Um, Kitty, I need a few moments..."

"What?" She puzzles, "Oh! See something you like?" She waggles her cut-off's at me and giggles her way out of the room.

After I've visited the bathroom and splashed water on my face to wash the sleep out of my eyes and tried comically to piss out of my morning wood, a feat which required bending at the waist to try and aim it into the bowl, I join the family in the kitchen. Denise is indeed watching me closely and searching for any sign of changed body language or eye contact.

"Look who's crawled out of the fartsack finally." Blue laughs between bites of bacon.

"Someone keep you up late?" asks Denise.

"You could say that." I answer and pull out my wallet. I always keep a couple of hundred in cash on me, you never know when you'll need it.

Denise's eyes widen even further when I tuck four fifty-dollar notes under Trina's coffee cup and say, "Thanks for last night, darlin."

"No problems Jim. oh..." She tucks one fifty in her top and hands me the others back, "big boy discount."

The only person at the table with a closed mouth is Tony. Blue has stopped eating and is staring at Trina. Denise is going paler by the second.

Trina can't hold it anymore and starts that braying snigger of hers. "You should see your fucking faces."

"Nothing happened Denise. Kitty couldn't sleep, wanted company I guess." I explain.

"Under and overed it, Mum. Him in the bed, me on the top. All very innocent." Then to me, "You're not getting this fifty back though. You dropped your guts so bad this morning I'm going to need counselling."

"Bullshit. It was probably you. You snore too did you know that?"

"No way." Trina scowls across the table.

"How could anyone tell over the freight train I sleep next to." Denise laughs.

After breakfast, Trina and I head over to her house to grab showers and a change of clothes.

"You have a look through Dad's things. There'll be something there for sure. Take whatever you like. I have to get around to donating them all, just never... never really in the mood. Just wish I could pay someone to clear out their room. It's long overdue."

"Thanks."

"Remember where everything is?"

"Yup."

In her parent's room I find a cabinet of draws and rummage through clothes eventually finding a pair of cargo shorts about my size and a polo shirt that looked comfortable. I could hear the shower running already so I got a glass of water from the kitchen and snooped. There was a teaspoon collection displayed in one corner that suggested her family had travelled a lot of Queensland and New South Wales.

I'm looking at the different locations when I hear, "They loved this country. One of the things Dad loved to say was that had to travel all over Europe to find all the things you could in one Australian state."

"Holy smoking cheer-leaders, boy wonder!" I blurt. She is wearing a short, pleated skirt that drops just past her bum and has me praying already for windy weather. Matched with a short sleeved checked shirt that's knotted at the waist showing a lean tummy and a belly button piercing she looks like a farmgirl cheerleader.

"Shut up dickhead. I just don't have any of my normal clothes. These are old things." Her blush is lovely.

"All you need is pigtails, Kitty." I tease her.

"Oh, you'd like that, all girly-girly."

"Uhuh."

"Fuck-off. Go have your shower, Uncle Pervy." She says through a million-watt smile.

My shower thoughts don't drift too far from Ellie-May in the kitchen. As I wash certain anatomical necessities, I'm aware my arousal is linked directly to thoughts of Trina. It makes me feel strangely like a betrayal of Sasha. She's only been gone two and a half months. If I had loved her as much as I thought, would I be boning up over her friend? I still haven't decided as I consider whether to rub one out in the shower. The water decides for me by going cold, so I towel off and dress in the clothes I found. I'm still towelling my starting to need a haircut length mop as I walk into the kitchen.

"Fuck." Accompanies the sound of breaking glass.

"You right?" I hang the towel over a chair and survey the damage. Taking the dustpan from the floor near the fridge, I help Trina pick up pieces of broken cup from amid the mess of juice.

"Stupid."

"What?"

"Me clearly. You looked so much like Dad for a moment. Got a fright. What a wally."

"Well I'm wearing his clothes and clearly male model material so I can see the resemblance."

"Dickhead. Ow..."

"Stand still. Let me see." There is blood on her left foot. "Let's get you to a chair."

Scooping her up, she giggles. There's nothing of her. I grunt and stagger,pretending she's enormous. "Holy fuck, how much do you weigh? Like a hundred and eighty kilo's or something."

"Forty-eight, dickhead. Now put me down." I sit her on the table and pull out a chair to examine her feet. There are some tiny shards that I can easily brush away or pull out, but the one that's bleeding is going to need tweezers.

"In my bedroom, in the top drawer." I'm told and return quickly with tweezers and tissues. I have to lift her foot up to better see the deeper splinter and in doing so she quickly re-arranges her skirt to hide her pretty baby blue cotton undies. In no time, I have the splinter out and ask for band-aids.

"Medicine cupboard in the bathroom."

So, I squat between her feet and cover the two worse cuts.

"What's the verdict Jim?"

"Well, they are going to hurt a little. Glass cuts do. But they don't need stitches. Those two are just little gashes and they look clean. Not sure about the other one though."

"What?" she follows my pointed finger and eyes to where her skirt has risen up flashing her knickers again and turns crimson. "Idiot."

"From the smell I reckon it's infected. You should get someone in now and then to hose it out for you."

"You're a fucking shocker, dickhead." She laughs and playfully pushes my head.

"Stay there, I'll vacuum and mop." She watches while I vacuum up the last few shards and mop the kitchen floor.

"Domesticated? Who'd have known. Could get you a job at the day-care centre, we always need someone to mop and get out splinters." When I'm done, we lock up the house and check all the switches. She's limping as we get to the door. I don't know what comes over me, but I pick her up fireman style over my shoulder to carry her to the quad.

"Put me down idiot." She laughs and pummels at my back.

I smack her bum at my shoulder, "Behave yourself."

Trina tries to put the quad into reverse but hurts her foot. "Fuck. You drive Jim. Just don't kill us."

It's the same as the quad Mum and Dad have, so I wait for her to scoot back then we wind our way out over the little creek.

"Stop groping me." I whine, mimicking her admonishment of yesterday. She has her hands around my waist and I feel her head rest against my back.

Her phone is ringing as we arrive back at Blue and Denise's. I leave her on the verandah with Denise and go to find the Dodge. We need to get it back to the farm tonight, so we can travel back to Brisbane with Mum and Dad in the morning. Pulling up in the driveway I'm alarmed to see Trina crying while she's talking. Denise is frowning as she wanders off inside. I hear parts of her conversation as I approach the verandah.

"He's fine. Look, just..."

"It was your decision."

"Sasha," she mouths at me and shoo's me away.

Nodding I make for the door, but not quickly enough to avoid hearing, "Look, Fuck You! You don't get to tell me what to Fucking do. You think I don't know what you're doing? Pushing us together all the time to make yourself feel better about being a fucking selfish cunt. What, are you hoping we get together so you can feel all righteous and vindicated?"

I know she waved me away, but my feet won't operate. Denise stands in the doorway clearly trying to listen but not be seen. She puts a hand to my face and shrugs.

"Well it's fucking working." Trina is sobbing now. "It's fucking working you fucking bitch."

She lifts her purple tear-soaked eyes to mine and says quietly into the phone, "I fucking love him. I can't help it. I just fucking wake up and love him without thinking. I don't need your fucking blessing, it's a thing that lives inside me. But..." and she sobs afresh, "His heart is still full of you, you fucking cow. There's no room for me. No room. Now fuck off and don't ring me again. I'm fucking serious. If you ring me again, I will change my number. Fuck off."

Then she hangs up and stands there with shoulders sagged, her eyes streaming and her hands over her face. Denise pushes me, "Go." She whispers.

Crossing the boards slowly, I fold my arms around Trina and cradle her head to my chest. I have no words, so I rock her and hold her. She melts against me and slowly her breathing settles until with a powerful shove to my chest, she explodes away from me.

"You can fuck off too! You're no fucking better! I'm not some consolation prize you get! Your pet Kitty!" she spits vehemently then takes a deep breath, "You can't just use me as a fucking distraction, Jim. You're not doing me any favours. Every instant I'm around you I love you more and every instant hurts when I don't see it back."

"I.. Trina..."

"Just fuck off Jim. Get in your truck and fuck off out of my life. I want nothing to do with you unless you want the whole package. I don't want to be your ice-cream buddy, I don't want to be your mechanic, I don't want anything unless there's a chance I can have it all. Everything that silly cunt threw away. Now just go. Please, just go."

Shocked I stand and watch as she limps inside. I look to Denise who shrugs and follows Trina in. Sometimes when Mum and Dad argue, Dad puts his hands up in surrender and goes to the shed for a while. It seems to work for them, so I wander up to Blue's shed to find him already fussing over small test pots of mint green paint.

"Bit of a fuss? Heard some of it?"

I shrug. "No idea what to do."

"That's women for you. Go fetch my smokes."

Returning with the packet he lights two. "How long ago did you quit?"

"Ah, fifth of August two thousand ten. How did you know?" I ask as he puffs out a cloud of blue smoke and hands me one of the cigarettes.

"You hang around when I smoke, you like the smell still."

"Guess so. Reminds me of Grandad."

"Never too late to quit again. I've quit five times this year already." He laughs. "Denise will sort it out. Just hide out up here with me until she knows what needs doing."

A short while later Denise finds us discussing shades of green and looking at old ford colour charts on the internet.

"Jim."

"Mum."

"She's okay. Just hurting. When she settled, I helped her get her thoughts straight and she wrote this down for you. A lot of what she said was true but came out wrong."

Denise hands me a plain white envelope and I try to lift the corner.

"No love, when you get home. I'll put Trina on the train later on. She'll be fine. You head off and give her some breathing space. Things will be okay. Now give me a hug and then do like the lady said, 'Fuck-off'". She laughs and wraps me a world-righting hug.

"See you round Blue. I'll try and get up maybe every second weekend if that's okay. I can pitch in with polishing and shit jobs."

"Goodo son. Goodo."

LIKE A BANDAID

After dinner I take some of Dad's moonshine to the front verandah and sit watching the last red and purple fade from the sky. Turning the white envelope in my hands I gather courage and eventually tear open the side to take out a plain piece of white paper.

The first thing I notice is the simple beauty of her hand-writing. On the unlined paper, her cursive is even, precise and generous.

Dear dickhead Jim,

Denise thinks I'm writing some kind of apology, but I'm not. I meant every single word I said. Every one. But some of it came out a bit harshly and mean.

I love being your 'Kitty' whatever that came to mean. I love being your pretend mechanic and I love the ice-cream trips. Last night was the first night in a long time that I've slept without nightmares. I love the way you make me feel safe and how you make me laugh. I love that you always have time for me. I love that you listen and that you let me finish speaking. I love your hugs.

But I want more now. I know your heart was broken when Sassy left. I know that you still have feelings for her. I know also that perhaps you may never feel the same way about me. So, I know too, that I have to put some space between us. I need to get my shit together and you need to start moving forward in your own journey. Maybe in time your heart will make a little space for someone like me and you'll be happy.

Thankyou for being as much as you have been able to be for me.

I love you.

K

"Fuck..." Folding the paper, I return it to the envelope and take it to my room where I pull out a box from the top of my built-in wardrobe and place it in among the other trinkets I've saved over time. Cards from Sasha, photographs from special occasions throughout my life; all the little keepsakes that have some sentimental value. It's only early still so I take my laptop to the kitchen to sit and check e-mail and such.

Facebook tells me I have five new messages and my heart sinks anew when I find they are from Sasha.

[Jimmy can you check in on Trina pls?]

[Let me know how she is.]

[Have you spoken to her yet?]

[Please Jim, she was really upset.]

[Maybe you could visit her.]

I can't even begin to think about how to reply. I simply click out of messenger and check Sasha's page for the first time in weeks. There are pictures of her with friends in different places around Amsterdam. Touristy looking photographs and in every one I see the same thing. I see her happiness. She is almost glowing with her new life.

As I examine each photograph, I find myself content. In the past, I would have been sad and reminded of my loss, but I realise now that I am finding joy in her happiness. She is where she wanted to be, achieving what she wanted to achieve.

[Hi Sasha. It's band-aid time. I have loved you with all my heart and now I need to let you go. Not in sadness; I'm happy for my memories of you and happy for your new life too. I hope when you return eventually that we can still be friends, but I realise for that to happen I need to go my own way and search for my own happiness. So, as I 'unfriend' you on here, know that it's just so I can 'refriend' you with a clear heart later. I hope you understand.]

Staring at the message I've written and read and re-written and re-read until it stops making sense I know if I don't click send I never will. Nervously, I tap the mouse and watch as the message makes its way across the globe.

[I do. Go get happy mister. I've loved you too.] Bounces back across the world before I've left the page.

Harder still is clicking the 'unfriend' link but once I have, I feel a weight rise from me. The feeling of freedom stays with me all that working week. I expected for it to burst eventually but as I travel north on the highway that weekend, it feels like footsteps on a new path.

I find Blue in the shed as expected. He's masked the F350 and shot a coat of surfacing primer.

"Just a single coat I reckon. Your father is a bloody good panel beater for a barrister."

"He'll love hearing that."

"This bit's not the fun part though," he says handing me a block and some wet and dry sandpaper. Between Tony, Blue and I we have the whole cab and style side tray rubbed, ready for a primer sealer by mid-afternoon. Blue's taken the cab and tray off the chassis and I can see he's added some of his own touches to the paintjob Dad and I did on the chassis.

"Just a bit of detail work." He explains, "See the brake drums and the disks. That sort of thing. Doesn't hurt to get a little fussy."

"Looks good."

"Be lost without Tony. That boy has magic hands. He can feel the slightest dimple, scratch or imperfection. Anyway, beer o'clock."

"Um Blue..."

"Listen Jim, Denise was talking to her last night. She's fine. You did the right thing." He pre-empts.