Finding Technicolour Read online

  Recently Kai hadn’t been round much. He’d been given extra shifts and took them to help fill his bank account. Things grew grey when he wasn’t with me, and I found myself trying to keep things dark. Every time I tried to see a colour, it felt forced. For some reason Kai was the only one who could make me believe that the colours I saw were genuine. Valid.

  He and I spent the days texting. I enjoyed seeing his name displayed on my screen.

  Kai: Done any drawing?

  Me: No.

  Kai: Do u plan to anytime soon?

  Me: I’m not sure.

  Kai: Well please remember I’m first in line for the substitute of Liam. I don’t see anyone else fighting for that title … Is there anyone else?

  Me: No.

  The next morning, for some strange reason I grabbed my iPod and made my way to the lounge. The battery had almost run out. I smiled as I scrolled through the list of songs, thinking back to the simple notion of when I could play a tune and it echoed my mood. I remembered when I allowed myself to feel. When I’d soak in colours like a sponge and seek out inspiration. Now I wouldn’t even crack open an art book or set foot in my Art Cave, and I pushed my feelings aside. But they crept to the surface. Deep down I knew I couldn’t keep this fight up forever. This battle was hanging over me like a noose.

  My finger hovered over a song. A three-and-a-half-minute memory that once had held the power to soothe me. I knew I could let it do that again. Suddenly, my phone beeped.

  Kai: Why haven’t u been to the coffee shop lately? Lost the use of ur legs?

  Me: No. I just haven’t been there.

  Me: Are u at work now?

  Kai: Yeah. Meet me at our picnic table in 30 mins. I’ll bring the hot chocolates with marshmallows.

  Me: I’ll bring the blanket.

  On his lunch break, we sat at our picnic table and spoke about whatever we wanted. Just normal things, like the weather and what our days were like in a general sense.

  We spoke a little more about his past, his childhood and some of his fonder memories. It wasn’t hard to imagine Kai when he was younger, and how he took sheets from a cupboard and flung them on the grass and over a tree branch to create a tent and then he’d get lost in his own world. A place where he was always content with his pure imagination.

  Later that day I was helping Mum prepare dinner. I wasn’t hungry, but for some reason I found myself wishing that the deep breaths I was committedly drawing – taking in the sizzling vegetables and the Teriyaki sauce – would make my stomach rumble and Mum would hear it and then that could be used as more proof that I was OK.

  I found myself disappointed. My stomach rumbles were only whispers. It was like my body was betraying me. Maybe because deep down I knew the rumbling of my stomach was no way to convince Mum I was all right.

  Mum seemed to be more herself around me these past few days. Telling me about her driving stories after she got home from a long day at work – all of which included her driver’s-tongue cuss words. We watched TV and the anxiousness I would feel about not knowing when she was going to ask me about my accident seemed to minimise. She hadn’t asked me about it in a little while. But I still felt my guard was up.

  As Mum tossed the noodles in the wok, my phone beeped. I stepped to the counter where it was and read the message.

  Kai: I see green and gold. White, grey and black. Shapes take a hold and the sounds attack. I see pink and purple and all things blue. But nothing compares when I look at you.

  I didn’t know if it was an original poem. But it felt like him. It sounded like him. I didn’t know to respond to such sweet words so I left it alone for a little while.

  Later that night I decided to try and write my own little poem.

  Me: Roses are red. Violets are blue. I really am lucky to have found someone like you.

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO

  I woke from a dreamless sleep. A nightmare-free sleep. For a moment I could pretend that the haunting had finished. That it had left. Right then, I decided I was going to enjoy the partial light.

  I spent the morning with Mum until she had to leave for work. Liam called, and the three of us spoke for a little while. Mum and I sat at the kitchen table. We put the phone on loudspeaker so it was like he was there with us. I liked hearing about his day, his week. Hearing about his time in college. I smiled to myself, knowing Mum didn’t know the half it. We kept it from her to protect her. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. A sinking feeling rested in my stomach, because those were the same reasons I repeated to convince myself not to share my deepest secret, too. I shook the thoughts from my mind.

  Hearing Liam’s voice made me miss him. Made me miss seeing him every day. I wanted him home so I could have some normality back in my life. Even though he had been at college a year before the incident and my accident I believed that if he came home, I would feel better. Because the last time I remembered feeling happy – really happy – was when the three of us were under one roof. It wasn’t Liam’s fault I felt that way. He didn’t even know I felt that way and I would never tell him. If I did, he would come back home without a second thought. He would drop everything for me. I stared at Mum across the table. Her sweet smile sent a warmth through me and I realised how selfish I was. Liam was where he needed to be.

  I had to try and keep living too.

  Mum went to work. I cleaned my room a little, and the rest of the house. I snuggled on the sofa watching another classic black and white movie. Although I wasn’t a spoiled heiress, I related to the main character. She was a girl running away from her family. A girl running towards what she knew she wanted. I wasn’t running away from my family – I had been pushing mine away, bit by bit – for their protection. The film was sweet and simple. The lack of colour made me feel safe. That day I wasn’t as invested in the story as I could’ve been. I just turned the TV on to help focus my thoughts on something else. I stared at the screen without really absorbing the plot. It was like I had no interest. My mind dazed. I didn’t know what my real interests were anymore. Keeping myself in darkness was my only concern. My task.

  My phone beeped.

  It was a text from Kai. The corners of my mouth rose. A distraction.

  Kai: Are we boyfriend girlfriend?

  My slight smile vanished. My heart sank. I wasn’t sure if I wanted a boyfriend. I wasn’t sure if that was something I was ready for.

  Me: I don’t know.

  Kai: Do u think you’d want to be my girlfriend?

  Me: Is this u asking?

  Kai: Well I would’ve done some sort of grand gesture that showed how much I care and writers would’ve stolen to put into movies, but this morning I woke up with this question stuck in my mind and now we’re firmly into the afternoon and I still can’t shake it away. I don’t like not knowing this type of thing.

  Me: So this is u asking then?

  Kai: Yes.

  I thought about his question. Swayed myself to an answer.

  No.

  I convinced myself it was the right one and convinced myself again. I was getting ready to send him a text – even though I knew it was the answer he didn’t want to hear and I quickly realised that would be the moment I would lose him. From then on I would no longer see his beautiful eyes. His colours. His light. I didn’t want to think what would happen to my world. The colours Kai brought would no longer exist and I didn’t think I would find the strength anytime soon to create my own and make them believable – liveable.

  My phone beeped. The sound shook away the overflowing thoughts. Another text from Kai.

  Kai: Hold on. Let’s do a questionnaire. (But let me remind u I’m at work and might be fired if the bosses catch me using my phone so much – so it’s your fault if we’re broke.) So please tell me you’ll accept this as my (not so) grand gesture.

  Kai’s words somehow slipped a lightness in me. My muscles felt relieved. Half of me was locked with a firm “No”. But the other half was curious.

  Me: A questionn
aire?

  Kai: Yeah. Will u accept it as my grand gesture?

  Me: We’ll see.

  I didn’t know why I played along. My mind knew what was best.

  Kai: Throughout my shift I’ll send questions ur way and all u have to do is answer Y or N. Ready?

  Me: Y.

  Kai: Good start!

  A couple of seconds later my phone beeped. I read his message.

  Kai: Do you like Kai Pearson? Y or N.

  Me: Y.

  I did like Kai. I related to him. Resonated with his story – his past. He was smart and charming and a good person. Why wouldn’t I like him?

  Kai: Do u think Kai Pearson is either cute, hot and/or sexy?

  Me: Y.

  Kai: To which one??

  Me: N.A.

  Kai: U can’t just do that!

  Me: N.A.

  Kai: OK. Do u like spending time with Kai Pearson?

  Me: Y.

  Kai: Are u comfortable around Kai Pearson?

  Me: Y/N.

  Half of me felt elated when in his presence. As if I could do anything. As if I was capable – better than OK. But the other half of me remained in my darkness. Unprepared to see the light. Unprepared to accept it.

  Kai: That question can be reviewed at a later date. Do u feel like u can tell Kai Pearson your secrets?

  Me: N/Y.

  I shared my secrets through my art. Since I wasn’t creating art anymore I wasn’t sharing my secrets. But that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

  Kai: Understandable. Will u admit to having a crush and/or feelings of like/love for Kai Pearson?

  I laughed.

  Me: Y.

  His blunt honesty and bright confidence was what had made me like him in the first place. I wasn’t one to run around town or stand on rooftops screaming my confessions of undying love – pre- or post-accident. But I did like Kai. I couldn’t deny it. Not a single part of me tried to convince myself otherwise. Which made me nervous. Unprepared. Guarded.

  Kai: Will you be my girlfriend?

  Me: Y.

  Kai: OXOX

  I didn’t know what had come over me. Earlier that day I was locked with a firm ‘No’. But now, it seemed, I was willing to take the risk.

  Chapter TWENTY-THREE

  A burst of a need to draw stroked my veins. I hadn’t felt that in a long time and I didn’t want to ignore it. I was willing to take the chance and was home alone so nobody would see.

  I found an unused art book and some pencils in my bedroom. Before the accident, if an idea popped into my mind at any time, I would draw it down so I wouldn’t forget, then elaborate on it in my Art Cave. Assembling at the kitchen table I began to draw. The grey pencil moved across the smooth paper and I began to draw who I’d secretly been longing to. As I etched the lines creating the curve of the eyes, a weight decreased. I erased my mistaken lines and felt a release.

  Slowly my hand reached for a watercolour pencil. It felt heavy, like the brightness was weighing down my fingers. I stared at it in my hand. It was like the colour glared at me. I squinted. I looked at my sketch. The pencilled features seemed too grey to represent what I wanted to capture. My eyes wandered to the colour in my hand. In that moment I wasn’t ready to risk producing an image with such colours. I tossed the pencil back into the case and slid it from my reach, yet still felt its bright presence, almost as if it were burning my skin. I shut my eyes and fixed on darkness. My almost serenity.

  Later, examining my sketch, I wasn’t disappointed that colour was not yet included. I had created something. I had taken the risk. Maybe I could trust myself again with my art, and not subconsciously unveil my secret.

  Mum and I convened at the dinner table. The wooden four-seater was in the centre of the small room, spaced far enough away from the windows and small table in one corner that held a fake fern in a striped plant pot. Although Mum loved flowers she wasn’t blessed with green thumbs. The dining area was just two steps away from the shiny white kitchen. The cupboard doors looked like they were laminated. Mum loved it because they were so easy to keep clean. The dark worktop was home to our much-loved mixing machine, kettle and cookie jar. The dimly lit space felt warmer, since we’d left the door open to the lounge. The heat poured through, making the floorboards a little warmer to step on.

  We ate a home-made quiche with salad. As the days passed my appetite slowly grew. I found I was hungrier when Mum was around. Maybe it was another form of evidence to convince her I was alive and well. I think that’s what I wanted. We were faced with dessert. I knew we ate a light meal for a reason. We both stared at our own large piece of store-bought chocolate Mars cake. It was our favourite, and tonight she wanted to spoil us, just because.

  Both halfway through our large slices, the richness began to slow us down.

  “So P, how are things with Kai?”

  “Good … He just asked me to be his girlfriend.”

  Mum smiled as she slowly lit up. “And what did you say?”

  “I said Y.”

  “What?”

  “Y, as in the letter.”

  She looked at me confused. My brain put two and two together and realised she thought I meant ‘Why’. I released a breathy laugh. “We did this questionnaire thing and he asked me to answer Y or N. Yes or no.”

  “So you said yes?”

  “Yes, I said yes.”

  “My little girl’s got a boyfriend?”

  “Mum!”

  “What?”

  “Don’t act all weird.”

  “I’m not. Aw … P, that’s lovely. How nice.”

  I saw a fleck of hope sketched across her face. I could almost read her mind. She was glad I was “getting back out there”.

  “Make sure he treats you right. We both know the consequences if he doesn’t. Like him being paraded down the streets in just ladies underwear or none at all. And the potential removal of his manhood. Maybe we should invite him around for dinner one night and I’ll talk to him about the conditions and penalties he might endure if he hurts my baby girl.”

  “Mum!” I laughed.

  “Well do actually invite him around for dinner, P. It’d be nice to see him again.”

  “I’ll see when he’s free.”

  Chapter TWENTY-FOUR

  A few days later, Kai came round for dinner. Mum made so much pasta you’d think we were feeding the entire street. I told her he liked to eat. He was a growing boy and liked his food. Maybe he’d told her about his plans to do a forty-hour famine that I didn’t know about, so maybe she wanted to stuff him full to bursting. Either way, I could tell she was happy there was another mouth to feed.

  The doorbell rang.

  Before I answered it, I quickly re-briefed Mum on how to act a little more nonchalant. Although she’s easy to talk to and understanding, for some reason when guests are around she likes to morph into this over-doting parent. I also told her not to share my embarrassing stories. Especially about the one with me face planting the mud that wasn’t exactly mud, when we went horse riding a few years ago.

  I opened the door. Winter was still strong. The cold air clutched around my legs. I made Kai quickly step inside so I could shut the door and remain in warmth.

  “Hi.”

  Kai kissed my cheek then unwrapped his scarf. “Hello Peyton.”

  I bit my lip. My stomach fluttered. Was I nervous?

  “Is everything OK?”

  I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Yeah. Yep. Good. All good.”

  I was nervous. I turned away from his kind stare and the oddly cute way he held onto his scarf, and made my way to the kitchen. He followed me. I could feel him.

  “Hello Emma. Something smells amazing.”

  “Hey Kai. Lovely to see you again.” Mum walked straight up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. I half expected her to spill an embarrassing story about me, like the time I walked into glass doors (they didn’t sense my presence so they didn’t open). I don’t think I could ever forget the s
ound of Mum’s cackling – after she’d checked that I was OK. I knew she was always going to say what she wanted, but I thought I’d give it my best shot to limit her story times.

  “Come and sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.” She pulled out a chair at the dining table and Kai sat down.

  His hair was tied in a bun. Pulled completely from his face, it highlighted his handsome features – including his beautiful eyes. I never usually liked guys with long hair, I thought they always looked better with shorter hair. But I liked it on him. He pulled it off without even trying. He took off his grey waist-length coat and placed it on the back of his chair. He wore a navy blue knitted jumper with a wide collar that had two large brown buttons near the neck, and his usual black jeans. I expected to see his much-loved boots, but that night he wore pointed dress shoes. Yet another entire look and style that he pulled off perfectly. He was beginning to make me feel like the casual jeans and jumpers and other baggy clothes I wore weren’t enough.