Talisman of Hate

Anthea turned in her chair. "Any reason why he became such an awful person?"

Julie just shrugged. "Genetic garbage possibly."

"You know his family. What is his father like?"

"A bigger piece of vile shit than his son."

"Wow!"

"He hates my father and mostly because my father makes him look small without even wanting to. Some bad family history in which Harry's father always came out second to my dad."

"His mom?"

Julie sat back wondering. "She was a pleasant person. Something like an Aunt. When I was small she always hugged me and.... She had kind eyes."

"What changed?"

Julie got up and walked to the kitchen to rummage around in the cupboard. "Pasta?"

Anthea dropped her pen. "Can do. What changed?"

With a sigh Julie put her head against a cupboard door. "Harry changed. He became a monster. He became a malicious bully and made life awful for many of us. Being the son of one of the richest men around made him bullet proof. There were many instances where he should have been expelled from school for violent attacks on unfortunate kids but always got away. Every time it fuelled his bullying to a next level."

"Did he ever hurt you?"

"Physically?"

"Yes."

"No. He was a master at hurting with words. There were many days that I thought about killing myself after he had had his fun with me. I never did it simply because I thought that he would have won had I done it. Once I even thought of writing a letter and kill myself afterward in the hope that it would hurt him knowing that he had been the cause of my suicide. I realised that he would not even care. It kept me going."

"Feed him some cyanide from the lab," Anthea giggled and Julie waved it away.

"Going to prison for that piece of human slop just does not make sense. What I will do is warn any girl I see him with."

"And make you seem jealous?"

Julie flopped down on a chair and shook her head violently. "Ohhh, I hate it when you just can't win. Why is it that the dark side has this advantage?"

Anthea giggled. "Revenge is the problem Julie. They say that when women plan revenge the devil sits in to take notes but at the end you always lose."

Julie blew a hard breath through her nose. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Leave him alone. These people always fry in their own fat. Sometimes it takes a little too long to our liking but it always pays out dividends. Meddle in it and you screw the banking system."

Julie glared at her friend. "So, what you say is feed him poison and I would lose?"

Anthea shrugged. "Something like that."

Julie shuddered. "I am going home for the weekend. Screw Harry Cliffendale and his whole disgusting family."

"You'll be quite busy." Anthea chuckled and Julie threw her with a pillow.

***

"You seem to know the way quite well Peter," Julie remarked after they had travelled for about half an hour. "Been there before?"

Peter shrugged. "Plenty times. I like it there."

"Do I know them?"

"You should."

Julie nodded. "May I know who this friend of yours is?"

Peter shrugged but watched from the side of his eyes. "Harry Cliffendale," he said as nonchalantly as possible and saw her fall back against the seat. "Know him?"

Julie was quiet for long seconds and he turned to her. "Something wrong?" he asked and saw her chest heaving.

Julie bit her lip and looked out the window. It hurt. She liked Peter but being a friend of Harry placed him in a category she would have liked not to touch. With an effort she doused the anger in her voice when she answered him. "Yeah. Unfortunately I know him."

"You don't like him?"

"He's your friend. No comment."

Peter pursed his lips and a mischievous smile crept over his lips. "We may go to the movies on Saturday night. Wanna join?"

Julie chuckled. "If you don't mind Peter. I would rather walk back to Uni but going anywhere with Harry Cliffendale borders on shaking hands with the devil."

"Wow."

"Sorry. Life."

"Wanna tell me?"

"No."

"He hurt you?"

"Yes."

"Love lost?"

Julie turned on him. "Peter!"

Peter shrugged with a forlorn look on his face. "It happens."

Julie gritted her teeth. "For many reasons I am currently not willing to share, I almost hate that person. If he was worth a little more I may have hated him but he is too worthless to hate. I despise him."

"I like him."

Julie snickered. "I find it surprising but you're entitled to your choice and he may even be a reasonable friend to you. Just keep him away from me. Please."

Peter smiled. "I will keep it in mind. If I see you in town I must ignore you?"

"Please."

"First break in less than a month's time. Coming home?"

Julie smiled. "Oh yes, definitely."

"Need a lift?"

Julie frowned at him. "Where do you live?"

Peter chuckled. "In my flat. My parents are globetrotting most of the time and only have a small 'lock-up-and-go' near the coast."

"So you have no such thing as 'home'?"

Peter shrugged. "Not really. When Dawn left for Vietnam two years ago, my parents sold everything, got into the yacht and sailed away. At the moment they are somewhere near Indonesia helping with some deep sea research project."

"What do they do there?"

"Get in the way mostly," Peter chuckled. "They simply can't sit around doing nothing so they poke their noses into all kinds of things. Last year they went to count Penguins in Patagonia."

"And what does your sister do in Vietnam?"

Peter pulled a face. "Went there to teach English. Now she is involved with all kinds of educational stuff. She is a compulsive teacher."

"Like you."

Peter shook his head. "Not a teacher. I get frustrated very quickly and would make a terrible teacher. Showing you how an electron can elope was easy since you already knew the whole thing. If I had to teach you how to calculate a chemical reaction, I would have yelled at you pretty quick."

"Do you feel lonely sometimes?" Julie asked thinking how she would have felt with no family nearby.

Peter shrugged. "I miss my sister. A lot. We are close, as twins are apt to be. My parents are another thing entirely. It was only once we went to school that Dawn and I really realised that parents are involved with raising their kids. We had nannies. Full time. Our parents were always somewhere near but that was it. Technically my parents are strangers to us."

"I'm sorry."

Peter shrugged. "Don't be. Life is what it is. I grew up under those circumstances and to me that was life. I know many people who had it a lot worse. Maybe I was a rich brat, maybe not. The nannies were gentle but strict. I remember throwing a tantrum one day and the next my rear end went up in flames. My tantrums ended right there. Today I think the nanny must have feared for her job or even worse but because of my father being absent from my life, the thought of ratting on her never even crossed my mind. She never struck me again but it wasn't necessary. All she had to do was look at me with raised eyebrows and my bum would light up by itself."

"Where is your nanny now?" Julie asked laughing

"There were five in all. Monica, my personal nanny and also the one who lit up my rear, moved to Canada with her husband where he is involved with some water treatment company. Mary is still around and is a kindergarten teacher. Betty went on pension and lives somewhere near the sea. She was the chef. Jackie is still a nanny for some other rich family and Rita is touring the world on motorcycles with her husband."

"Sorry for asking but your parents are rich?"

Peter nodded. "Stinking rich. Dad was one of the first guys in the world to specialise in recovering data from crashed magnetic drives. To say it was a lucrative business would be the understatement of the century. Later on he got into development of some type of software but my knowledge is minimal. As you know I don't do computers. Mom was a pharmacist when they met and one day she was playing around with something and came up with the idea of starting her own brand of beauty products. Sometimes I think she made more money than Dad and that took some doing."

"Brand?"

Peter smiled. "From what my nose tells me, you are wearing 'Black Sage'?"

Julie's mouth went slack. "You mean your mom is...?"

Peter chuckled. "Actually her name is Gloria Jennifer Bristow. The brand name is a bit of a mix."

"I see. Wow."

Peter grimaced. "Yeah. Wow."

Julie put her hand against his shoulder. "I'm sorry Peter."

"As I said, don't be," Peter mused. "You dislike Harry and his family. I like them. They are friendly and caring and something as close to a family I can get."

Julie sighed heavily. "I think we know two different families although I have to admit. I liked his mother. She was gentle and kind."

"Still is."

Julie nodded and an uncomfortable silence reigned until Peter softly prodded. "You angry with me?"

Julie stared at him for seconds before frowning. "Why should I be?"

"For not telling you that Harry and I are friends and have been for the best part of two years now."

Julie turned in her seat. "Peter listen to me. I like you and told you so. The fact that you are friends with Harry is just one of those things that life throws at us. If you like him it is because you see something in him that I do not. I carry scars because of that..."

"I know."

"He told you?" Julie gasped.

Peter nodded. "Of course not all. Time erases too many facts but the grist of it."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You're still friends?"

Peter drummed on the steering wheel. "I called him an arrogant, pompous, self centred, bullying rich brat or something to that effect."

"And?"

Peter shrugged. "I think it hurt him."

Julie laughed derisively. "You may as well tell me that a leopard turns it's spots to stripes. Nothing can hurt that ... Aaarggg!"

Peter shrugged and tried to smile. "Shall we cut the Cliffendales from our conversation?"

"Please."

Peter chuckled. "So, when are you planning on falling pregnant?"

"What?!"

Peter laughed. "I had to change the subject Miss Julie."

"A little over the top, Mr Bristow."

"Still thinking about Harry?"

"No."

"So, it worked."

Julie shook her head and laughed. "You are deranged."

Peter winked at her. "Pleasantly so Miss Julie. I only howl at the moon when drunk and swear at my alarm in the mornings. Errr, sometimes."

The conversation took a neutral course from there but at the home of Harry Cliffendale, another, more animated and lively conversation was playing out.

Harry had just arrived home and after greeting his mother, was busy carrying his suitcase to his room when he came to a stop and stared at the sorry remains of the ginger plant at the corner of the garden. He put down his suitcase and walked over to the plant, feeling the dead, dried out leaves. He felt, more than heard his mother approach.

"What happened here?"

"Dad had an accident with herbicide."

"Accident?"

"He fell and the container landed inside the plant. Almost the entire content ran into the roots."

"What did he say?"

Brigitte shook her head. "Nothing. He spent the day washing it down but I think it only worsened the effect. For weeks it looked as if it may be saved but as you can see, it died."

Harry knelt down at the plant and carefully opened the tangle of stems until the core was visible. Even there only dried out frummels of dead growth was visible. He got up slowly and took a few paces back. His chest tightened as he softly said; "Aunt Peggy's legacy is no more."

Brigitte came up behind him and folded her arms around him. "Daddy has not been able to come to this part of the garden from the moment the ginger started to wilt."

Harry shook his head. "He must feel terrible," and felt Brigitte's head nod against his neck. "But why didn't he dig up some roots immediately? It would have grown."

"As long as I've known him, I have never seen him this distraught and I think it never crossed his mind until too late. He did dig up some tubers but they never grew. They are in a couple of pots he keeps in the nursery and he checks on it every day but we know. They are dead."

Harry nodded and went to retrieve his suitcase. As he picked it up he looked at his mother and softly said; "The cost of arrogant pride."

Brigitte shook her head at him but said nothing. Only when Harry came in for coffee a while later did she lean over him in a hug. "Be kind Harry. Always," she said in a soft voice and Harry nodded.

"Even that can be too late. Ask me."

"Kindness and forgiveness should never be too late."

Harry sat there looking out the window. "And because of that people live with regret." He took a mouthful of coffee and squinted at Brigitte. "You know Mom. All these emotions we nurture in life is like that ginger plant. All it needed was an almost insignificant error and it died. A single bad word or an act can lead to love dying. Hate runs its course and dwindles over time. Regret never lets go. It chews at you every waking moment and you take it to your grave."

Brigitte shrugged and smiled at him. This outpouring of light philosophy was a bit strange. She curled her eyebrow at him. "Why isn't Peter with you? I thought...."

"My point about kindness and forgiveness exactly."

Brigitte sat upright. "Is something wrong?"

"Not really mom. Peter is on his way here with a friend."

"Oh? Staying here?"

Harry laughed but it tasted sour. "Julie will not sleep under the same roof as I even if her life depended on it."

"Little Julie?"

"Yeah, little Julie. She's not quite so little anymore."

"But how....?"

"She studies at the same University as us and we ran into one another."

"But why not travel together?"

Harry finished his coffee and gave a derisive laugh. "For reasons I don't want to discuss now, Julie and I will not fit inside the same car. And definitely not for a couple of hours."

"But surely...."

Harry walked around the table, bent over her and kissed her lightly on her forehead "One day when I feel brave I may tell you."

"Harry?"

"Please mom?"

Brigitte shrugged and Harry walked outside. After a while he took one of the farm trucks and went in search of his father. At a far corner he found Henry muddy, hot and bothered working to repair a broken borehole pump. After greeting they got stuck in and in just over an hour later, had it running properly with clear cold water gushing into the reservoir.

Henry carefully placed his hand on Harry's shoulders. He had never been an expressive person and he felt a little sheepish as he pulled his son towards him. "Thanks Son. I miss you here."

To his joyful consternation he felt Harry's arm encircle his shoulders to pull him in for a sideways hug. "Thanks Dad. I miss being here as well. I'm halfway through my studies and then I most probably will be back to take over from you."

Henry chuckled. "Take over from me? Not yet young man, not yet."

"Yeah, I know. I'm still too young to take over and you are too young to go and sit under a tree somewhere. But I hope to join you here.

At about that same time, Peter came to a stop outside the farmhouse where Julie's mom stood in the door, shading her eyes at the strange car. He got out and gave her a friendly wave as he walked around the car to open the door for Julie. As Julie came upright there was a shriek of joy from the house and both women ran towards each other, colliding in a twirling embrace with tears of joy shining in their eyes while a little terrier tried to jump as high as Julie's face. As Peter watched he could not help feeling a pang of sadness at having missed this closeness of a loving family.

"Mom, this is Peter Bristow," Julie introduced them once they had let go of each other and she had hauled the overjoyed terrier into her arms. "He studies BSc Confusion at my University and is visiting his friend of doubtful character for the weekend. I bummed a lift."

Julie's mom chuckled and held out her hand. "BSc Confusion sounds rather interesting. I'm Charlotte Turlington."

"Charmed I'm sure," Peter did in his best pompous English. "Your daughter of incomparable beauty and unsurpassed wit made short work of an insufferably tedious trip."

Charlotte laughingly hugged Julie and winked at Peter. "May I offer our esteemed guest of high breeding a cup of coffee?"

Peter bowed slightly and chuckled. "Thank you Ma'am. May I assume the coffee will take a few minutes to prepare?"

Julie sniffed loudly. "If the two of you can please get off your high horses?"

"Of course Miss Julie," Peter grinned.

"Why is it important to know how long coffee will take?"

Peter swept his hand over the expanse of the garden. "My posterior feels like it had been flattened. Just a little exercise to remind the blood vessels that I am not dead. On the way here Julie regaled to me the wondrous beauty of the garden and from here it looks like a little paradise."

Charlotte waved him away. "Walk anywhere you like. We will call when the coffee is ready."

It took longer than Peter expected before he was called. In that time he had walked most of the garden and marvelled at the beauty around him. Pathways led around flower beds filled with dazzling colour and heavenly smells. Interconnected ponds of varying size fed each other by gurgling streams and even a small waterfall. It was cool and calming with shade provided by well spaced trees and shrubs. He noticed light fixtures and wondered what it looked like at night. In his mind's eye he conjured up a picture and nodded to himself. It will have to be seen at some point in the future.

Coffee was served under a small gazebo and Peter commented about the garden as he sat down. "It is beautiful and must have taken years to create."

"Peggy was the real creator of it." Charlotte said softly."She was my husband's first wife but died in a car accident. She loved gardening and spent every minute she could in there. Apparently she sometimes worked into the night when she needed to finish something."

Peter looked around him. "That would be Harry's aunt Peggy?"

"Yes," Charlotte said surprised. "Do you know about Peggy"

Peter nodded and saw Julie's jaw line firm up. "It is to Julie's dismay that I am befriended to your neighbour's son Harry, but in all honesty, he is a decent guy and so is his family. To this day I cannot recall a single incident where any of them treated me or anybody I happened upon in anything except humble friendship and quite honestly, I feel more loved there than I ever felt in my own home."

Charlotte sat back in her chair and her eyes bored into that of Peter. "Are you aware of our history together?"

Peter shrugged. "Harry told me some of it and I believe him. The reason being that not once did he say anything disparaging about you. In fact, he blames his own father and himself."

Julie pushed her coffee forward with enough force to make it spill. "If you will excuse me?" she spat and stormed away into the house. Charlotte glanced at Peter and cleared her throat.

"Julie hates Harry," she said softly and Peter shook his head.

"I beg to differ Ma'am. She does not. She carries a lot of hurt and anger and Harry knows that. She despises him and he knows that too."

"How do you know?"

"He is my flatmate and closest friend. We spend every day together."

"You like him?"

"Yes."

"And his father?"

Peter shrugged. "Since I met them I have been treated like one of their own. To me that means a lot."

Charlotte sat staring into the garden with a wistful look while drinking her coffee. Peter decided to call it quits and gulped down the remains of his, before getting up.

"I hate acting like a vulture but with Julie angry and Harry's family possibly worried about my safety, I think I must get going?"

Charlotte nodded and walked with him to his car. As he started the engine she leaned into the window. "Please forgive Julie Peter. Only she knows the hurt we only know the surface of."