Finding Technicolour Read online

  “Are you up for a walk?” Kai asked.

  I peered out the window and saw the streets weren’t empty. I eased up a little. I knew the night’s air would be thin and cold, but I agreed to the walk anyway. I slightly feared if I didn’t, then he would just drive me home and our third date would be over – and I didn’t want the date to be over. I was enjoying myself.

  We strolled side by side. The air wasn’t as cold as I was prepared for, but I knew as the minutes passed the temperature would decrease and the air would become crisp. We would look like two ice-breathing dragons.

  “Tell me about your family. What’s your brother like? Your mum? Your dad?” Kai said.

  “Well, we don’t speak about my dad … He ditched us when we were really young and we haven’t seen him since.”

  “I’m gonna go ahead and say he’s a jerk. I won’t say the real words I’m thinking, they’re not for young ears. But he’ll never be brought up again.”

  “You’re only a year older than me.”

  “Still, he’s a topic we don’t need to discuss. He clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. On to the next thing. What about your brother? What’s he like?”

  “His name’s Liam. He’s been at college a little while now, studying business. He’s a couple of years older than me and has these ocean-blue eyes. If you stare long enough it’s like you can see waves. We did too many staring-eye contests when we were kids. Actually, when I was younger I used to want his eyes; mine are a darker blue like my mum’s, but I don’t think I’d be able to pull his off. He’s about as tall as you, maybe a little taller and his right arm is covered with tattoos, one of which I designed. I drew this picture ages ago and showed him one night. He thought it was awesome. He told me he wanted it, said he was going to frame it and put it in his room. I told him that it wasn’t finished yet. Without me knowing, he went into my Art Cave and stole it. He asked the tattooist to permanently print it on his skin. When he showed me I couldn’t believe it. He loved my drawing so much he had it inked on him. I knew he was making a point, proving that my art was good enough to show the world. And now it’s a piece in his story sleeve. I love him to bits, even when we get into stupid arguments, but they vanish minutes later and then we’re best friends again.”

  “He sounds like a pretty cool guy…”

  “He is.”

  “Do you think you don’t do art anymore because Liam’s not around to show it to?”

  “No not really. I know I can draw or paint anything and show him. Take a picture, email him, FaceTime him. But I’ve not been in a creative mood lately.”

  “Well, I’m no Liam, but I will happily stand in as substitute viewer of your artworks.”

  “Thanks.” I chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

  “Please do. I’m at your beck and call.”

  I smiled.

  “So what about your mum? What’s she like? I know I’ve already met her, and she’s great. But tell me more.”

  “Well, my mum is amazing. We get along like we’re two peas in a pod. We laugh at each other’s lame jokes, watch movies and TV shows together. I understand what she’s saying when she mumbles with her mouth filled with food and she understands me when I do the same. We share secrets. Dreams. Hopes. She’s protective and is not afraid to transform into a mama bear. She always wants the best for Liam and me and always puts us first. She is the greatest woman I know. Strong. Independent. Beautiful. Confident. Everything I hope to be one day. I’m lucky to have her and I know that.”

  I glanced at Kai. He smiled but I saw a speck of hurt in his eyes. Like my words had somehow weakened him. Was I reading him wrong? “What about you? Do you have any siblings? What are your parents like?”

  Kai shook everything away. “Nah. We’re still on you.”

  For a moment I didn’t say anything. The sound of our footsteps took over the conversation. I debated what to say. “But you haven’t told me anything about your family. Don’t you want to?”

  “Maybe another time.”

  I had never seen him like that before. He was cold and not just because the temperature was decreasing. I didn’t understand.

  “Hey, it’s getting pretty cold now. Do you wanna head back to the car? I’ll take you home. We should get there around quarter past ten. I think your mum will be impressed.” As he spoke his words became fog.

  “Um, OK.” My words became fog too.

  I looked at him, silently questioning why he felt he couldn’t tell me something about himself. That whole time he wanted to know everything and anything about me, but I couldn’t know about him. He rubbed his hands in front of his chest then blew into them as we quickly made our way to his car. I hoped we walked fast because he wanted to be free of the cold.

  We arrived at my house at 10.22 pm. I knew it was that time exactly because I looked at my phone, wanting to see my stopwatch. But I hadn’t set it. Kai walked me to the front door. We stopped and faced one another. Our breath visible. If he was going to lean in for a kiss, I wasn’t going to allow it. I wasn’t ready. I was never going to allow it, but especially not with the way things had changed. The mood wouldn’t have been right.

  He took both my hands in his and raised them to his cold lips. My elbows were stiff with resistance but unlocked when he softly placed a kiss on my knuckles and replaced my arms to my sides.

  “How was our third date?” Kai smiled, but it wasn’t the bright one he usually used. “The best third date you’ve ever been on?”

  “Yeah.” I had to say that. That was the only third date I’d been on.

  “Goodnight, Peyton Swift. Sweet dreams.”

  As he walked towards his car, I made my way inside. Mum had the heater on. My limbs began to defrost. I leant against the door and heard his engine roar then hum as he reversed. I didn’t like the fact that there was something he wasn’t telling me.

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  I woke from an average night’s rest. That morning I didn’t wake in a sweat, tangled with my sheets. I dozed in and out of sleep. Wrestled with restlessness. Throughout the night I had peered at my alarm clock, Kai at the front of my mind. What was he not telling me?

  I got out of bed and grabbed some breakfast. It wasn’t much, but at least there was something in my stomach to keep me going through the day – until I had to convince myself to eat something again. I no longer had to take the tablets I was prescribed – I had taken them all. But if anything changed or if I needed something, all I had to do was call Dr Enderson. I had considered asking for another prescription of painkillers, but they didn’t stop the memories. They didn’t stop the pain in my mind from hurting.

  I made myself comfortable on the sofa and turned on the TV, stumbling upon a black-and-white movie. I didn’t care what it was about. There were no colours to shade myself from and it made me feel safe. As time passed I became engrossed. The movie mirrored my life. There was a special secret painting that gradually revealed the main character’s inner ugliness. I needed to know how it ended so I might prepare myself if it ended the same for me.

  My phone beeped.

  I smiled when I saw it was a text from Liam.

  Liam: Hey P! How u feeling today? xx

  Me: Hi Liam. I’m OK. How r u?

  Liam: I’m good. What have u been up to?

  Me: Therapy. Which Mum is happy about and I’m sure u r too … I met this guy the other day and we went on a date.

  Liam: Glad to hear you’re doing well. U know u can talk to me whenever u need to. I’m just a text, phone call, video chat away xx

  Liam: & who’s this guy you’ve met?!? What’s his name?

  Me: His name’s Kai. He works at the coffee shop we love!

  Liam: Do u need me & the guys to suss him out?

  Me: I think I’m doing fine by myself. But I will inform u if I need back up.

  Liam: OK P. Be good! I’ve gotta get back to class. Speak soon! xx

  Me: Stay outta trouble kid!

  I placed my
phone on the coffee table and continued to watch the film. The plot was thickening. The main character’s conscience was getting the better of him and only a full confession would absolve him from his past. I feared for how long it would be until I could be cleared of my own past. Cleansed from my secret. Was my time for absolution nearing?

  My phone beeped.

  The sound shook my thoughts that intertwined my reality, that movie and my secret. I took a deep breath. I was becoming good at shifting my thoughts but worried that I would no longer be able to achieve it so easily in front of the ones I cared for. I wondered when I couldn’t hide anymore.

  I grabbed my phone. It was a text from Kai. There wasn’t a single ounce of me that knew what he would write. I couldn’t read him like he could me. But I found myself partially smiling, even though my stomach twisted.

  Kai: Guitar or ukulele?

  Me: What?

  He replied immediately.

  Kai: Which do u prefer the sound of?

  Me: Guitar.

  Kai: Excellent choice Miss Swift. Shall we say today 1 pm at our picnic table?

  Me: Our picnic table? And which one is that exactly?

  I looked at the time – 12.26 pm. He enjoyed spontaneity.

  It took him a couple of minutes to respond. I waited impatiently for his colourful reply.

  My phone beeped. I opened the new text.

  Kai: The one we sat at for our very first date.

  I laughed a little. That smile lingered on my face for longer than I predicted. Longer than I expected. I thought back to our first date and it made a feeling spark inside me. Was I happy? I decided to halt the over-analyser inside of me. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be moving forward. I wouldn’t be creating moments. Building forces to help stop me thinking about my past.

  Me: See u at 1.

  Kai: Bring a blanket!

  I wore my black hooded coat, wrapped a thick scarf around my neck and hugged a blanket as I made my way to the picnic table. Our picnic table. The wooden rectangle joined to the two benches at either side. It looked darker than I remembered, perhaps because of the heavy downpour during the night. I folded the blanket long ways and then over again so it was big enough for us to sit on it. I put it on the table then raised myself up and placed my feet on the seat.

  Cars passed. The splashing of tyres on wet roads flickered in my ears. A slight breeze shuffled. It wasn’t strong enough to send shivers up and down my spine, but still I rubbed my hands over my legs to create some warmth. I turned to the coffee shop and saw Kai wandering towards me. In his right hand he held two takeaway cups in a cardboard tray and in his left hand he held the neck of an acoustic guitar.

  He stood at the opposite end of the picnic table. “Good afternoon, Peyton Swift. Did you dream of anything sweet last night?”

  No. When my slumber was disturbed I thought of you. When I went back to sleep I don’t remember dreaming, only to wake up again and think of you. “Not that I can remember … Did you?”

  “Not that I can remember. Dreams are a curious thing. I brought us some hot chocolates. You do like hot chocolate, right?”

  “Of course I do. What a silly question.”

  Kai chuckled. “Well good. I brought one with marshmallows, and one without. Which do you prefer?”

  “Marshmallows, please.” I grabbed the takeaway cup. It was warm in my hands. A new feeling of heat toured my skin. I took a sip. The sweet taste of marshmallows hit my tastebuds. I smiled. It made me think of the many times during winter when Mum made Liam and me hot chocolates layered with mini marshmallows. The three of us snuggled on the sofa, wrapped with blankets as a fake fire sparked on Liam’s laptop, and we watched a movie on the television.

  I took another sip. The hot liquid warmed my insides. “So, what’s with the guitar?”

  “Well, you told me you like drawing and painting, but haven’t been creative lately. So I thought I would show you something I like doing to help your creative juices flow and to encourage you to share some of your artwork with me. If I can share my gift of song, then you can definitely share a canvas with me.”

  The notion of sharing my art with another made me feel uneasy. “We’ll see.”

  Kai smiled, then took a sip of his hot chocolate.

  “Well, before you play, tell me something. Do you write your own material? And if so, where do you get your inspiration?”

  “I dabble in writing lyrics. I’m no game changer to the art. But it helps me see things clearer … And I find inspiration all around. My past, my present, my hopes for my future. My songs are like my little secrets, or lines from the diary I don’t actually keep.”

  Kai’s words struck a chord with me. His songs were where he kept his secrets, just as my art was where I kept mine. “OK then. Let me hear a Kai Pearson original.”

  “I must warn you that when I sing, I sound like a dog that’s had its vocal chords surgically removed.”

  “I thought you said you have the gift of song?”

  “Well, that was to entice you to hear me play. Plus, the fact that I sing so terribly and am still willing to share with you this thing I love, should prove to you I am a suitable candidate for humbly viewing your art.”

  I smiled at him.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded.

  “This song’s called ‘Follow You’.”

  I braced myself for the sound I imagined from his description, but what my ears heard wasn’t actually that bad. His singing voice was raw, tender and filled with authentic emotion. He was actually really good. I listened to his every word.

  I’m gonna follow you, I’m gonna follow you home

  Cause I wanna know you, I wanna know you all

  I’m gonna follow you, I’m gonna follow you home

  Look at the heart of you, I wanna know you all

  All of your secrets and all of the times you’ve cried

  Your feeling of misfit and when you’re questioning why

  I wish I could follow you, I wish I could follow you all

  Make my own wings too, I don’t wanna let you go

  I’ll keep my own thoughts of you, yeah I’ll keep them all

  You know that I love you, I wish I could follow you

  I wish I could follow you home

  I kept my eyes on him. I wanted to clap. To applaud his heart-filled performance. But it felt so inconsiderate. I felt like he had shown a part of his soul. Something I hoped he hadn’t done with anyone else. He had just shared a secret. A part of his past in the shape of a rhyme that was up to me to decode. Then maybe he would feel like he could speak to me about himself. Not just the charming things or his unique perspective on life. But also about things that made him sad. His dark side.

  “Wow. That was deep.”

  We both sipped our hot chocolates.

  “It’s not entirely finished yet … I know it needs more work. But that’s what I’ve done so far and …”

  “You’re really good. I like the sound of your voice. If that’s what a dog with surgically removed vocal chords sounds like, then I think I have my closing argument to convince my mum we should get a dog.”

  Kai laughed.

  “Thanks for sharing that …”

  His phone rang.

  “Ah sorry. That’s my alarm. I’ve gotta get back to work.” Kai jumped from the table. Before I even had a chance to object, he quickly placed a kiss on my cheek. Not that I was going to object, right then. Not in that moment. He shouted from the coffee-shop door. “I’ll text you later!”

  The feeling of his lips lingered on my skin. I placed my warmed fingers to my face, holding the kiss there. I didn’t want it to be stolen by the cold.

  Chapter SIXTEEN

  Mum and I were on the sofa. A heavy downpour of rain attacked the windows. The heater was on but I pulled a soft blanket to my chin. We flicked through several channels before she went to work. I didn’t pay attention to what was playing. I just stared at the screen, pretending to soak in the scenes. />
  “How’s your head today?” Mum said.

  I already knew what direction this conversation was going. I wanted so much to divert it. But I knew she would ask either way.

  “It’s all right.”

  “What about your memories? Do you remember anything new?”

  I licked my lips. “No.”

  She set the remote down. I felt her eyes on me. “I don’t get why you just couldn’t wait for me.”

  “I don’t know; maybe we needed bread or something. I wanted to help out. I wanted to try and do something by myself.” I finally looked at her. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m sorry.”

  “P, all I care about is that you’re safe and alive. I don’t care about the car or the cost of a lawyer or whatever else we have to do; you know we’ll figure that out. I just have to know that you’re OK. Do you understand what you did was so reckless? Doing something like that, it’s not like you … Is something else going on?”

  I grew numb. I couldn’t feel the words leaving my throat. I had to believe the murmured sound I was hearing. “Mum, I don’t remember anything else.”

  How did she know? I knew this was a stupid thought; she was my mum, of course she’d sense when I wasn’t myself. I began to worry she could read my thoughts, suddenly realising that I wasn’t so good at keeping secrets from her. My poker face was starting to unpeel. I had to figure out another way – a better way – to prove to her things were OK. That I was OK.

  I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I was slowly discovering the details and I didn’t want to share them with her. I felt bad, but it was for the better.

  I thought it was for the better.