RECTIFY: A REDEMPTION NOVEL Page 3

  “Well, what’s wrong with her going to school anyhow? She’s not going to learn anything being in this shit hole with me.”

  “I barely know anyone or anything about this area anymore. I’m not going to trust some stranger with her.”

  “Relax a little, they’re fucking professionals, and the lady there was really friendly. She showed us around and was so sweet to Lily.” She stops cutting and places the knife down on the chopping board. Looking up at me, her brown eyes don’t hide how irksome she finds me. “I’m not completely bereft of any common sense or responsibility.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I offer, the slightest twinge of guilt scratching at my conscience.

  “You didn’t have to. I know we got our shit, but Lily is off limits. I know that.” Picking the blade back up, her actions end the conversation.

  Unsure of what to say or do next, I take the coward’s way out and escape to my room. “I’m going to have a shower,” I tell her. “I’ll take Lily off your hands and finish dinner when I come out.”

  With no response, I head to the only sanctuary this place has to offer and succumb to thinking about the catalogue of problems I don’t have solutions for.

  Coming back to Sydney, and more specifically home, wasn’t something I ever planned. It has been weeks of dredging up repressed memories, and reminding myself of all I left behind. It was also an unwelcome realisation that running away didn’t change the problem, and even though I was waking up in a new state, with a new life, my brother and my Dad were killing each other here in the pit of hell.

  When Max finally managed to get a hold of me and beg me to come to Sydney, there were a million reasons as to why I wanted to say no. Firstly, I had no idea who she was, and secondly, I’m selfish enough to admit, I enjoyed my life away from here. For the first time, I was as happy as I could be, making myself a better person. A better Dad. A mixture of all the things Lily would one day be proud of.

  Growing up here, wasn’t unique, and I wasn’t the only kid who lived through so much hatred and neglect. That’s probably the saddest part of my childhood, that I wasn’t the only person with one parent or a bruise on my cheek from my father’s fist that didn’t fade in time for school. I was a number, a statistic, another kid whose chances at a normal life were limited thanks to the shortcomings of their parents.

  Life started off with a mum and a dad, but after getting beaten to a bloody pulp one too many times, she made the ultimate decision of life or death, and ran away. Do I blame her? No. Had I wished she’d taken me and my older brother Leroy with her? Every fucking day.

  While I hated watching him doing that to her, I look back now and realise I was a few years too young to understand what both her staying and leaving meant for the rest of my time under that roof. Dad had never hit us, and I think when my mum made the decision to leave, she genuinely believed we’d be okay. But what none of us anticipated is my dad would just replace his old punching bag with some new ones. His children.

  In an alternate universe, I could say I was mature enough to understand her reasons and actions of survival, but the child in me couldn’t help but resent her for leaving us with him. She could’ve come back. She should’ve come back, and maybe I wouldn’t have ended up treating everyone and everything around me like shit. And today my family wouldn’t have such a neglected, unloved, and unmemorable legacy.

  From as early as I can remember Leroy and I had to earn our keep, but Dad’s only condition was it had to be in the family business, which was code for a life of dealing and wheeling. It was fun at first, my adolescent hormones enjoying the initial rush of doing something dangerous and forbidden. For the first time ever, living in the shittiest neighbourhood had perks. I had friends. Protection. A family.

  It was everything I was looking for, and I spent more time on the streets and less time at home. But just like everything else in my life, there was an expiry date. A single moment where it all turned sour. Dad got in too deep, and anything positive that came out of what we were involved in, turned to shit. He took more drugs then he could afford, and he gambled enough that if it wasn’t for Leroy and I there would’ve been no roof over our heads, or food in our stomachs.

  As he continued to fuck up, his moods were unpredictable, and his anger was at an all-time high. Eventually we began to hit him back, naively thinking that we could reverse the roles and he would be scared enough of us to retire. Permanently hang up his bruised fists and leave Leroy and me to do our own thing.

  But as they say, misery loves company and he wasn’t ready to give up being the head of our house any time soon. Instead we became three grown men continuously trying to beat their demons out of one another. Within these four walls we were always bloodied, high or drunk, and to the outside world, we were unhinged, fearless, and indestructible.

  Eventually, I didn’t like either version of myself; the reflection in the mirror beginning to look a lot like my father’s and I had needed to put a stop to it before I became unrecognisable.

  The night I decided to leave, was the only time where the empathy for my mother far outweighed the hate. I channelled a make-believe connection between her and me and wished for her strength to guide me and get me the fuck away from my dad and Leroy.

  So, when twenty-five-year old me narrowly escaped being beaten within in an inch of my life, for mistakes that weren’t mine, I made the split decision to run. With a cocktail of fury, defeat, and revenge swirling around in my blood, I took my swollen eyes, healing limbs, and broken past, and walked away from a family and a life that was only going to kill me.

  Feeling slightly refreshed after the shower, I head back to Max and do as I promised. Passing Lily who is watching TV and fiddling with her snacks at her own table and chairs, I get a start on dinner. Like I’ve handed Max a relay baton, without a word she takes my presence as her cue to walk out of the kitchen and into her room.

  When I left Sydney, Leroy was the only one I told. After the fact. He wasn’t pleased and didn’t understand, but I told him if he needed me for anything, he could call me. I gave him a number to a phone that I had no intention of ever using, and I set out to start my new life.

  The one good thing about all the shady shit I did when I was younger, was I was able to save enough money that I didn’t need to stay on struggle street for too long.

  Using the one skill I had, I used my brawn to get a job as a security guard at a strip club and made enough money to keep my head above water, and out of trouble.

  I’ve come so far since then, far enough to have no idea what Leroy and my dad were up to, and far enough to have no idea a woman named Max would call that same, abandoned phone, and turn my life upside down.

  * * *

  “You know I can take her,” Max says for the tenth time this morning.

  “While the offer is nice, I’m her dad, I want to be the one to take her on her first day.” After two weeks of Max and I juggling Lily, the child care centre called with an opening that she could start today. I hate to leave her there. I hate to really leave her anywhere. I still have a mini anxiety attack when I leave her with Max some mornings.

  “Do I need to pick her up?” she asks

  “No, that’s fine. I’ve got it.”

  “I’ll see you in a few hours then?”

  Giving her a quick nod, I scoop up a dressed Lily and buckle her up in her car seat. Max hands me Lily’s backpack, and I drop it in front of her before walking around the back of the car and settling in the driver's seat. I hate that this will become a routine that Lily attending school here makes the move feel somewhat permanent.

  The drive isn’t too long, but not close enough in case of emergencies. We pull up to the building and my fears are pushed to the side as I take in the nice area and its surroundings. I take a few deep breaths, internally cringing at the basket case I’ve become when it comes to Lily. The panic, the worry; I’m a complete helicopter parent, and I often find myself entertained by how out of character it is for me.


  Entering the school, I pull my phone out of my pocket and punch in the code Max sent me to get inside. Heading to what’s known as the junior room, I bump into other parents who look over with curiosity at both Lily and me.

  A young woman with long lavender coloured hair walks up to us with a knowing smile on her face. She crouches down, ‘til she’s eye to eye with Lily. “Hey there, I heard you were starting today.”

  She rises and offers me her hand. “I’m Holly.”

  “Hey, I’m Jay.” My gaze moves down to Lily, and then back up. “This little one’s dad.”

  “It’s great to meet you, and we’re so happy to have Lily starting with us.”

  “I’m so grateful you could fit us in at such short notice. I saw a sign outside that said there was a waiting list.”

  “There is, but the director of this place is a miracle worker. One look at Lily and she insisted on making room.”

  “Is she around?” My eyes scan the room for any other adults. “I’d like to thank her personally.”

  “No, not yet, but she might be when you pick Lily up.”

  “I’m sure I’ll eventually bump into her.”

  “Okay.” Holly claps excitedly. “Let me give you a quick rundown of what you need to do at drop-offs and pickups, and then you’ll be free to go.”

  I follow her with Lily in tow as she shows me where to store her backpack, her water bottle and where to find the sign-in and out book. She informs me of an app that I can download on my phone, where they post updates with announcements, photos from the day, and anything else they think parents will want to know about their kids.

  She hands me a business card with the app name, and all the contact numbers and emails I may ever need printed clearly on it. I fold it up without looking at it and walk Lily over to the group of kids sitting on the playmat, listening to the teacher reading them a book.

  “Daddy’s going to go now, okay baby?”

  She nods, but her bottom lip hints at the slightest quiver. My chest tightens and I look up at Holly who is watching us. My eyes must show how much it pains me to leave her, because in the same instance, Holly sits down on the floor, legs crossed, her arms gently pulling Lily into her lap. “Daddy will be back soon, okay?” She talks to the top of her head. “We’re going to have so much fun, reading books and painting. There’s even going to be food and lots of yummy snacks.”

  Lily and I smiled at each other as Holly’s words registered. “Give Daddy a kiss, and I’ll see you later, okay Lilypad?”

  I lean down, and she places her little pursed lips on my cheek. “Bye, Daddy.”

  Glancing at Holly, I nod in gratitude. “See you later.”

  * * *

  Driving into the hospital car park, I circle each level, with the hope that today won't be the day half of my visiting time is spent in this concrete abyss. It’s both amazing and sad how many people are in hospital or visiting someone on any given day. A fact that never crossed my mind until I had to come here every second day.

  After twenty minutes of searching, I find my oasis and turn my car into the lucrative spot right next to an elevator.

  As I hit the lit up letter G inside the cart, I pull my phone out and message Max.

  Me: Be up in five.

  Not expecting a response, I'm surprised that it vibrates in my hand almost immediately.

  Max: I'm in the cafeteria, meet me here first?

  I frown at the screen, the cryptic tone of her messages worrying me.

  Me: Everything okay?

  Max: Just the usual

  Tucking the phone back into my pocket, I impatiently tap my foot, willing the elevator to go faster. As soon as the familiar ding echoes around me, I rush, taking large steps to Max.

  It takes a few seconds for me to recognise her. With her hunched shoulders and her head in hands, she looks like the world is crashing down around her.

  Slowly sliding into the seat in front of her, I try to make my presence known as to not scare her.

  “Max.” She looks up, and I notice just how much Max’s face hides when she's at home with Lily and I. “Max, what is it? How is he?”

  “I hate being here, did you know that? I hate that this is my daily routine.”

  “Me too,” I offer.

  “Does it make me selfish if I don't want to come here every day?” Like a little lost puppy, her eyes beg me for forgiveness and reassurance; two things that will sound hollow coming from my mouth.

  “If you want out, then you can go,” I say curtly. “You did your duty and called me. I'm here now, and you're free.”

  She grabs a napkin from in front of her and dabs at the corner of her eyes, wiping her unshed tears. Erasing her vulnerability from the conversation. Silence between us ensues, and the sound of people chattering around us gets louder.

  The one person who can ease her guilt and tell her to go, can't. In his place is me; the guy whose smiles, empathy and comfort are reserved for those who are deserving, and even then, the business of making other people feel better does not come easy to me.

  I don't know anything about Max, and moments like this show just how little desire I have to change that. Resigned by her lack of response or explanations, I look down at my watch and make my move. “I'm going up.” I stand, stepping to the side and tucking the plastic chair neatly back under the table. I can feel her watch me leave, hear the gears in her mind turning, her thoughts shifting and changing as the distance between us gets bigger.

  Walking into my second elevator of the day, I stare into the unappreciated reflection, it's sole purpose to remind people what rock bottom looks like.

  The nurses smile expectantly as I glide through the ward, most of them used to my presence. The need for pleasantries have passed as my reasons for coming here have turned from days to weeks.

  My eyes catch a glimpse of navy blue scrubs leaving his room. My steps quicken, hoping for an update that Max was incapable of giving me.

  “Oh, Mr. Evans.” The greeting doesn't feel genuine, his pen scratching details down on his clipboard taking precedence. “How are you?”

  Not interested in chit chat, I don't respond to the older man. Pointing down to the lines of his scribble, I get to the point of why I'm here. Now, and every day. “What are you writing? Has something changed?”

  “Just record keeping, Mr. Evans, nothing to worry about.”

  “Well, how is he? Did anything change overnight?” I drag my hands down my face in frustration, wishing people would answer my fucking questions.

  “Nothing’s changed, Jay.” My heart drops as he places his hand on my shoulder, trying to soothe his blunt delivery. His voice is low, and lot less cheery than it was a few minutes ago. The unfortunate seriousness and lack of good news in his tone has reality crashing down on me. “Leroy needs your strength, son, go inside and give it to him.”

  3

  Sasha

  “God, she’s ridiculously cute. Don’t you just want to squeeze those cheeks.”

  “Tone it down, crazy mama,” Holly warns. “You always get this way with the new ones.”

  I laugh at her statement because it’s one hundred percent true. Occasionally I get clucky, missing Dakota as a little baby. Since I don’t intend or see myself as ever having another child, working here fills the infrequent void. “I keep missing her mum. What was her name again?” I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to remember. “I wanted to see how Lily has settled in, see if she looks a little less stressed.”

  “Her name is Max, and she hasn’t been back. Her husband has. Or maybe he’s her partner,” Holly rambles. “Regardless, I haven’t seen her either.”

  “Oh.” Getting Lily the spot wasn’t an easy feat, but I refused for there to be another outcome. I couldn’t say why I felt compelled to make it happen, but after confirming with the accreditation standards that I could apply for an extra load under the guise the family required urgent care due to mitigating circumstances; I called Max and told her Lily had a
space here for three days a week. If she needed more, I would let her know the second something became available. “Well, does he seem to like the place?”

  “He’s actually been hoping to bump into you, to say thanks.”

  “That’s nice of him but completely unnecessary.”

  “You’d want to see him at least once, he’s very easy on the eye,” she drawls out for emphasis.

  “Holly,” I admonish. “Since when do you check out men?”

  “Just because I sleep with a woman every night, doesn’t mean I have no appreciation for the opposite sex. And I really was thinking of you the whole time.”

  I shake my head at her. “I don’t need you thinking of me, thanks.”

  “Whatever. Be single forever. See if I care.” She throws a bag full of smocks at me. “Let’s avoid the argument and get the kids ready to paint.”

  I do as she says, because she’s right, and I don’t want to rehash this conversation. I don’t want to have to continue to lie and say I enjoy being alone, while my heart secretly weeps because it’s lonely. Opening myself up to someone else is a scary thought. The fear of letting yourself bleed in the name of truth and happiness, only to find out it’s too messy for someone else to handle, is something I can’t endure.

  I have too many battle scars for anyone else to put up with. Too much drama. Too much baggage.

  My life is a fucking soap opera. The father of my daughter has recently come out of prison, and his brother is the man I’m still pining over, for all the wrong reasons. Add the necessity to play happy families for the sake of my daughter and most days are an exhausting attempt at keeping the mask in place.

  Since walking out of Hendrix’s house over six weeks ago, and releasing us both from the cage I kept us in for so long, it has been a steady and unsuccessful climb to some semblance of normalcy. I’m more raw and fragile than I’ve ever been. In all the ways no woman wants to admit. I’m still beating myself up for all the ways I hurt him, wallowing in a pool of self-pity, and self-loathing; condemning myself to a life of isolation and celibacy.