Читать книгу The Mira Side - Karla Popovic - Страница 3

Mira walked along the path clutching her sketchbook. She was looking up into the kaleidoscope the tree canopy was making with spring leaves and sunbeams.

So consumed with trying to imprint the image in her mind, Mira collided with a dark figure. Her pencil fell to the ground, tinkling as it bounced along the path.

After a gasp that sounded something close to a lizard being strangled, Mira apologised to the ground as she scuttled to snatch up her pencil.

“I’m so sorry, my mistake…”

She looked up but no one was there. Mira stood abruptly and swivelled around. She turned in a full circle a few times, determined to see evidence of the actual human being she’d run into. But the path and park were clear in all directions. No one could have left her line of sight that quickly.

“Let it go,” Mira hissed. She told herself she’d just tripped over a stone. She told herself twice, three times… but she didn’t buy it, not in her truest heart.

The whole reason she’d come to the park was to call it back, wasn’t it?

All of it.

Because Mira had to know there was more to life; that we don’t simply live and then cease. It was no longer enough for her to just fairytale believe.

She shook her head until she felt dizzy, still trying to think logically. Old habits die hard.

“No you don’t,” a familiar voice echoed in her head, “You came back to see it all, feel it all. That was the promise.”

Mira jammed her eyes shut to stop herself from seeing an apparition of a renegade Native American with his face war painted, and violet eyes boring past all the façades she’d built up over the years, straight into her soul. She had no time to stop for a cathartic chat with Mil-Kai right now.

Mira couldn’t explain it but she just knew she had somewhere to be. It felt like there was an invisible rope tied around her waist tugging at her softly but relentlessly.

When you ask for something from the universe you will undoubtedly receive it, just exactly how you never expected to.

Mira’s eye caught an empty bench seat on a rise, up off the path into the park a little way.

She could see the opaque, honey-quartz haze hovering; almost enveloping it.

“Ok, ok I get it” she muttered.

Leaving the path in the direction of the bench seat, Mira felt like she was abandoning everything that was secure and sane.

She stopped just before the seat, on the precipice for a moment between who the world expected and liked her to be, and who she truly was.

“Fuck it,” she mumbled, because in all honestly Mira was sick to the teeth of playing timid.

Despite all her conviction Mira still felt jittery as she sat down, smoothing her crumpled dress with trembling hands. Truth be told she was scared shitless; sick to the stomach of what she would find within herself, around herself…

Someone sat down beside her and Mira froze mid-smoothing.

She peeked out of the corner of her eye, expecting to see a semi-translucent Tibetan monk or maybe an oversized fairy.

Relief washing over her, Mira let out a little breath of air from between her lips. It was just a man in a sweater.

He was hunched over, clutching a takeaway coffee cup between his hands, hood pulled low over his face.

Her gladness at seeing a normal person went to Mira’s head a bit because she piped up brightly, completely out of her usually shy character “Big night last night? Or big morning ahead?”

“Hu?” The man asked to the ground.

It suddenly hit Mira that she was trying to have a cheerful chat with a strange man who’s body language showed no interest in conversation with anyone.

But instead of backing down like she usually would, Mira stumbled stubbornly over her need to justify herself.

“Just the way you’re sitting with your coffee is all…” Mira trailed off, getting needle-like vibes prickling her all over.

“Life’s big kid,” He rumbled out, still hunched over himself, still brooding a thunderstorm into his cup.

That spiked a fuse in Mira.

She was the last person who needed reminding of how big life was and she absolutely was a grown woman.

“I see you,” Mira blurted out, feeling her little fists ball in irrational temper, “Hunched over, thinking you’re better than me, spilling out superiority complex energy. But sit here long enough and you’re gonna get yourself some life education!”

Mira clapped a hand over her mouth and shot her eyes down to her lap.

What was she doing?!

This man was just minding his own business, sipping his coffee.

Mira groaned inside at herself. She felt her heart thumping against her chest, beating her up from the inside for being so stupid.

But she heard a snicker and peeped back over at the hooded stranger. He was holding a hand over his mouth, trying to hold it in. But it was one of those laughs that would not be held down. He bust into a rich, melodious chuckle; the type that made you feel good just to be around, even if you didn’t know what the joke was about. She tingled.

“Here, looks like you need this more than me,” he handed her the coffee cup and stood up.

“Hu?” Mira didn’t understand.

He smiled and it lit up his whole face, even his eyes were twinkling.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he got out between unrestrained chortles and it was like being near someone who had a highly contagious strain of joy.

Mira took the cup, only half frowning against that glorious laugh.

“For your information I always look like this,” Mira said, laughing as well - joy contracted.

But the stranger was on his feet, his hands in his pockets, hood low.

He nodded down at her lap “You’ve got a sketchbook.”

“Oh yeah,” Mira fumbled out, clutching it even tighter; then added smiling “It’s my dreamcatcher.”

And with that he was walking away, down the path.

Mira checked her phone.

She had time.

It probably seemed strange to anyone else, the idea of calling on a primeval power to commune with apparitions in a half hour stroll through the park before work. But like Master Chi always said, humans like to make complex webs out of simple threads. To talk with the powers of the universe you honestly don’t need a spirit-quest type sabbatical, no ouija board - not even a tea light candle. If you want to chat with the other side the only real trick is learning how to listen; and then prepare yourself to be told things you don’t necessarily like hearing.

Mira had tried to explain this to her bestie Sunny once. Sunny had just blinked a kind of ‘I don’t get it’ stare back at her. It honestly hadn’t bothered Mira.

She found it hard to put into words; that switch she flicked in her head to shift into ‘spirit world’ gear. Sunny was the only person Mira had ever talked to about how she could see and have conversations with things that weren’t there to anybody else. Even though Mira had shut that side of her down as much as possible, over the years some energies inevitably slipped through her defences. Sunny never pretended to understand, and didn’t indulge Mira over it; but didn’t abandon her like she was a fugitive from the looney bin either. Mira appreciated that. Sunny was really the only human Mira was completely transparent with.

No one else came to her as Mira continued her meander through the park. That’s the other thing about spirit. You can’t force it either. If someone wants to talk with you they will, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be there at your every beck and call. These powers that Be have got shit to do too.

So Mira turned on her heels in the direction of work and let the rest of the day float by, as though she were in a dream.

The next morning Mira was up earlier than usual, following a compass inside her without knowing exactly where she was headed.

She hit the café on opening, only a girl in activewear had beaten her to first order of the day.

Mira watched the girl lean over the counter as she placed her order, a finger twirling softly through her golden hair and a cherry halo of energy rushing about her like a vortex was opening.

Mira smiled knowingly.

As the girl slowly dragged herself from the counter to the side to wait, Mia stepped forward to see the young barrister’s plume of crimson and gold feathers fade grey and fall as he took her order.

Mira smirked wryly inside. It was ok. She was the girl guys bumped into by accident when they were checking out someone else.

Mira placed her order, handed over her money and also moved to the side.

Mira smiled at the girl, who gave her back a charity half-smile before returning to arching her neck over the coffee machine that stood between her and her barrister knight.

Mira watched as the barrister raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement to the girl. She fluttered over, her wings flickering ruby at him. Their fingers touched as he handed her the cup and a fireworks spark of energy burst between them.

The girl slowly pulled her coffee towards herself and almost skipped to the condiments station.

The barrister gave Mira a grimace as she reached for her own coffees.

“Would you like a carry tray?” He asked.

“That’d be great thanks,” Mira replied. She saw his energy turn ashen at the necessity to take his eyes off the blond girl who was now looking at her phone.

Mira was feeling unusually gutsy.

As he appeared back at the counter and placed the cups in a tray for her Mira lent over and whispered “She likes you.”

The poor man’s eyes nearly popped out of his head and rolled on the floor.

“You think?” He whispered back, a spark of blue-lightning interest flashing across his eyes, “How can you tell?”

“She’s… lingering,” Mira smiled wryly.

The man’s chest burst forward and his feather crow flew into full bloom as he looked in the direction of the girl.

“Thanks man,” he murmured at Mira as he moved from behind the counter towards his butterfly.

“Actually I’m a girl,” Mira said to herself, shrugged, and took her coffees.

Mira walked the same path she had the morning before; through the kaleidoscope canopy, up the rise to the bench seat, unsure and searching.

Mira sat with the coffees on her lap.

She didn’t wait long.

The man in the hooded sweater came and sat next to her again.

“You came back,” he whispered, a touch of wonder in his low rumble.

“I brought you a coffee,” Mira smiled and offered it out to him.

“How’d you know?” his voice trailed off.

“I’ve got pretty good intuition,” Mira said with a wry smile, more to herself.

As he reached out Mira saw his hands were scared; not the physical sort of scarring - these were spiritual wounds.

She caught her breath, feeling a little awed herself.

The scars had a soft white glow.

Most people’s spirit scars were festering with a kind of corrosive energy that was like a soul infection.

But these scars were healed crystal clear.

He took the cup “Thanks.”

Mira sat there feeling a jittery urgency to keep his attention.

Out of the corner of her eye Mira caught something else that glowed on his hand, vivid and green to her - it was a tattoo.

“Your tattoo! It’s my two favourite symbols in one. A dragon eating its tail, wrapped around in such a way…” “Infinite gratitude,” they both said together.

She had his attention now. Little blue sparks of energy burst around his head. He was thinking.

“I’m Rex,” He held his bright, scared hand out to her.

Was she suppose to shake it? That felt kinda weird.

“I’m Mira,” and she reached back for his hand awkwardly.

A current of energy hit her hand and shot up her arm like a river rushing, returning to the source.

He pulled his hand back and so did she on autopilot.

Mira held her hand in the other, still feeling warm energy smouldering it.

“Mira means light,” He said, standing up.

“And Rex means king,” Mira rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm, trying to think straight.

“Wanna go for a walk little light?”

Mira’s eyes popped.

“Ok, but I’m not little.”

“Sure you are. You’re like the smallest person I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re just very big,” Mira picked up her coffee cup.

Rex had his hand held out. Mira gawked at it, a deer mesmerised in headlights.

“I liked that jolt you gave me, I could do with another one.”

And Mira did something she hadn’t done in a long time, so long her muscles felt stiff and protesting - she smiled a real smile.

So there she was, trying to get her head around the fact she was having a hand-in-hand morning stroll with a complete stranger who was setting a fire alight up her arm.

And her palm was sweaty.

Gawwwd!

Actually, Mira could only concentrate on the quandary she had of wanting to hold Rex’s hand and at the same time desperate to get rid of the humiliating puddle pooling in her palm.

Before she had another moment to think about it, Mira’s hand pulled away almost by itself and she started wiping it on her skirt.

Rex shoved his hands in his pockets again.

Damn it!

“So you gotta be somewhere?”

“I’ve got about half an hour before work,” Mira stuttered out, still wiping her hands down her skirt in an attempt to put her nervous energy somewhere.

Rex snickered and she shot upright again, worried she’d accidentally flashed her bra strap or something in her fumbling.

“What do you do?” Rex was looking out over her now, like he was distracted.

“I’m a copy editor,” Mira said nonchalantly, “How ‘bout you?”

Rex shrugged, “Shift work,” and he smiled to himself.

“I gotta go. See you then.”

“Ok,” but before Mira could say any more he was down the path in the other direction.

Mira shuffled along the footpath, sipping her coffee, enjoying how warm it felt inside her clutched fingers. The breeze wasn’t exactly cold but everything rippled in Mira. She brushed off shiver after shiver that tickled down her spine and shook her to her fingertips.

The universe was brewing, Mira could feel it in the air.

By the time she hit her desk at work Mira’s hands were trembling with adrenaline.

“You’re wound tight today,” Sunny popped her head around the corner of Mira’s cubical desk.

Mira knocked her coffee gasping, and fumbled a juggling act to catch it.

“So what’s new then?” Mira grumbled.

Sunny smiled and her rainbow energy hummed a soothing balm over the nervous tension that had built itself up into a ball in Mira’s gut.

“Nah, you’re wound up even more than usual - got needles spitting outta your eyes,” and Sunny popped her eyes wide, making fizzy noises.

Mira laughed.

Sunny literally was that to Mira. She was a burst of sunshine on Mira’s shadow nature. They’d grown up together, loved reading together, and now they worked together.

Sunny was a photographer though, capturing the beauty in what was really there and flapping it in Mira’s face.

Sunny was good for Mira.

Sunny was also the only one Mira could talk to about the way she saw things no one else could see, and felt things she shouldn’t be able to feel.

“You’re not talking to ghosts again are you? You always get extra titchy when you do that, like someone’s been messin’ with your radio waves and got you on static.”

“Noooo,” Mira hissed, trying to hush Sunny’s bright voice.

“How’s your Dad?” Sunny asked lower, more gently.

Mira just shook her head down at her desk.

“K,” Sunny put her hand on Mira’s back, “Lunch?”

Nodding into the desk, Mira bit her lip, felt it hurt and used the pain to pin together the ripping inside her.

Then she took a deep breath, snapped her head up, and got on with things.

Later at lunch Sunny smiled over her smoothie at Mira as Jen and Rosie chatted back and forth about Jen’s upcoming birthday party, which was a month away… at least. Shrugging to herself Mira smirked, she was hopeless at keeping track of social events.

“So I’m not sure whether to do 80s theme, 90s theme, or y2K theme,” Jen gushed between mouthfuls.

Rosie chuckled, “Why would you have an 80s party? You weren’t even born yet!”

Rosie was almost doubled over laughing, while Jen squinted at her.

“Look at these balloons bitch,” and Jen started furiously scanning through the camera roll on her phone for a pic.

“No, that’s not it, wait…”

Rosie, somewhat recovered, begged, “Just please don’t have a y2K party. Who does that? Nobody! All that bad fake tan and hipster jeans so low we all practically had our vajayjays hanging out.”

Jen snickered.

Even Mira burst a raspberry through her lips, trying not to spray risotto.

“Ok, I got it!” Jen started shaking her phone in Rosie’s face.

“Oh m’gawd Jen! It looks like a rainbow’s had gastro all over your screen. Here! Look up my bohemian, minimalist 25th on Pinterest for God’s sake,” and Rosie started tapping madly on Jen’s phone.

“You have to come Mir!” Jen lent over and Mira could see bright glints of blue epiphany twinkling across Jen’s eyes, “My cousin’s going to be there!”

“Don’t start on the matchmaking again Jen,” Rosie groaned, then quickly added “But you definitely have to come Mira.” She put her hand on Mira’s wrist like a pawing puppy.

“As long as Dad’s ok,” Mira trailed off.

“Of course! Of course honey!” Jen and Rosie chorused.

Walking back to the office, Sunny put her arm around Mira, slurping the end of her smoothie.

“Hard to get a word in around those two.”

“Are you going to Jen’s party?” Mira sounded so whiny and desperate.

“For sure baby,” and Sunny pretended to chug her empty smoothie cup.

Sunny was a social butterfly, the life of the party. It was like she just couldn’t get enough of people, which often left Mira wondering why Sunny even bothered with her.

It’s not that Mira didn’t like people, she wasn’t antisocial on purpose. Mira was just happier to sit and listen. And that suited most people down to the ground. Mira found more often than not, people just talked at each other about themselves anyway.

At the end of the day Mira was glazing over an email about a work awards presentation night. She wanted to bin it but left it in her inbox just in case. Mira rubbed her burning eyes. She sighed as she closed her laptop, relieved it was the end of the day.

Hackles suddenly shot up the back of Mira’s neck. Mr Reed must have slithered out of his office. She looked over her cubical just in time to see him slink across the room, head craned, licking his lips with a forked tongue - looking for a delicate egg to devour whole.

Mira refused to call that predator, lowlife ‘Chief.’ He was a narcissistic serpent, praying on the desperation of naive young women trying to make it in the competitive publishing industry.

Mira swallowed a little bit of vomit back down her throat.

“Winning today?” Mr Reed hissed as he passed her desk.

“Absolutely Mr Reed,” Mira said flatly.

“Good job boys,” and he patted the side of her cubical.

He said that to her every time.

Editor-in-Chief joke.

But his darting eyes had zoned in on the new intern prey and he slid off.

Mira was glad to be completely off his radar. She shivered with disgust. There were advantages to being a shadow girl.

With no stomach to linger around and bare witness to Mr Reed hypnotise his fresh prey into submission at the water fountain, Mira packed up her desk quickly.

With gusto Mira scooped up her handbag and made for a great escape out the office glass doors.

She still had to get groceries on the way home. Mira briskly walked the two blocks from work to where her car was park, fishing in her handbag on the way for the shopping list Mum had given her earlier that morning. Mira’s hand eventually found it in the abyss of her bag, and she groaned. It was a hefty list.

Although Mira was tired and over the day, there was an upside to Mum giving her a novelette worth of items to pick up.

Mira really, really liked grocery stores. Maybe it was something to do with the intense fluro lights, or all the busy people; but it was the last place she was going to run into a ghost or a sprite or something. The energy just seemed too fast or too low. Spirit needs something to stick to, a magnet-like force of connection. The head on collision of that sterile environment of stacked rows of commodities, coupled with transient energy of people ploughing down isles with trollies, drove parallel lines where the physical and spiritual never quite stuck.

Grocery stores and graveyards - spirit energy zero.

Mira giggled at herself, daydreaming her imaginary dating profile.

I like long strolls along supermarket isles and through cemeteries.

Mira took her time down the isles, picking up and putting down five different shampoos before decided she didn’t need shampoo.

She slipped through the register with ease, making calm small talk about how busy it was and the weather outside with the cashier.

Outside misty rain had started to pitter-patter a haze on the world.

Mira shuffled to the car, wobbling around more bags than she could really carry. She plonked the groceries on the passenger seat and scuttled around to the driver’s side.

“I told you to watch where you put those pickled onions, I don’t like pickled onions.”

Mira jammed her eyes shut, “Really Mr Pickled Onions?”

“And stop calling me that,” the little gargoyle creature scowled up at her, flashing his azure eyes accusingly and rolling wrinkles even further across his face.

“It’s your name isn’t it?” Mira sighed, starting the car.

“You wanna talk kid?”

Mira shrugged.

“I know it feels like you’re being run over five ways by 15 different freight trains - but what’s the worst that can happen?”

Mira giggled a bit hysterically “Probably being run over seven ways by 18 different freight trains.”

“What I mean is, don’t over think it kiddo. Keep it all simple.”

“Oh yeah, and how do I do that?” Mira could feel tears starting to prickle her eyes. She wiped her drippy nose on her sleeve quickly.

“Do the job you set out to do.”

And Mr Pickled Onions was gone.

They all came, said what they had to say, and then they left. She felt the shifts every time.

“Do the job I set out to do,” Mira repeated it out loud, clutching for help.

Driving home in the misty rain, Mira sang along to Airplanes as it played on the radio.

Mira’s gut clenched tighter and tighter in a ball of strain the closer she got to home.

Fear is a trickster; she makes you believe you can hold her down in the same way you command your actions and words.

But the feelings are still there. And if you don’t confront fear face to face she’ll come at you in other ways.

There’s always a debt accumulated and fear collects payment with interest.

As Mira pulled into the carport, accruing more suppressed emotions for fear to later hold her with at ransom, she put her game face on.

Mira kicked at the front door with her foot, arms ladened almost above her head with groceries.

“Stop kicking the door dipshit! Dad’s trying to sleep,” Lai screeched like a cat in a scrap as she sent the door crashing open.

“Just take some things then,” Mira huffed, pushing through the door.

Grabbing two avocados off the top of Mira’s carefully balanced food mountain, Lai rolled her eyes in such exaggerated pain that Mira snickered.

“Mummmmmm! Mira’s teasing me again!” Lai continued her yowl as she stomped through the house.

Mira seesawed her way through the living room, trying to keep everything in her arms. Dad’s voice came rasping from the sofa in the corner “Hey darlin’.”

Mira instantly dropped everything in a rolling food cascade and leapt over to him.

She kissed his forehead. It was warm, too warm, but it was warm. Mira imprinted the memory forever.

“Hey Dad, guess what I’m making for dinner? Nachos and bean dip, and guacamole - the secret family recipe!” Mira’s eyes sparkled brightly.

She never wavered, not even a slight break in her tone. She couldn’t, because she wouldn’t have Dad see her as any less than a sure beacon of strength. She was his soldier, tireless in the fight. It was her promise and Mira was a promise keeper!

“Oh Mira!” Mum burst into the living room, picking up runaway avocados and bean tins. Mira dashed over and bent down to help. Mum wasn’t supposed to be putting pressure on her knees.

“Now be nice to Lai,” Mum whispered in staccato hits.

“I’ll pick up the groceries Ma,” Mira protested, but Mum wasn’t finished.

“She’s only 13, you’re 24. I expect you to set a good example.”

“Ma, I’ve got the groceries!” Mira started snatching thing out of her hands.

But Mum snatched them back, “I don’t think your father’s up to eating too much tonight. He’s had a bad day darling…” The worry lines that dug deep between Mum’s brows broke Mira’s heart. She desperately wanted to rub them gently away but they’d never be gone, ever again.

So Mira gave what she could - enduring happy strength.

“We haven’t had nachos for dinner in years. Remember when me and Lai would sit on the bench in our nighties on a Saturday night and stuff our faces? I’d eat all the guacamole and Lai refused to eat any of it, except the plain chips.”

Mira kept it up flawlessly, the bright strong warrior act.

“I remember,” and Mum threw her arms around Mira.

“Thank you darling. I couldn’t get through this without you.” Mira could feel Mum’s fragile frame tremor, she’d lost so much weight.

“Stronger together eh Ma?” Mira said with just the right amount of dismissive grit to yank Mum out of the spiralling whirlpool of devastation that hovered ever-near and hungry these days.

With sincere gusto Mira dove into cooking dinner. She made the hero dish just like Dad always did; 3 avocados, mayonnaise, salt, pepper, grated cheese, and incy-wincy pieces of chopped pickled onions. It was surely the most faux pas guacamole but it was their’s and Mira loved it.

Mira had it all set out on the bench; the nachos, bean dip, sour cream and of course the guacamole.

“Dinner’s ready!” She hollered out.

Lai jumped on the food straight out of nowhere.

“Just wait pig,” Mira hissed on Lai’s selectively deaf ears as she went searching for Mum and Dad. They were huddled to one side of the couch together, holding hands. It stabbed Mira right through the heart.

But she called cheerily, and probably a little too loudly, “Dinner’s ready!”

“Thanks honey, but I think I’ll go to bed after my cuppa,” Dad smiled at her. Everything in him radiated the fight back at her. The fight to smile from his cracked lips, all the way up to his eyes that bulged too far out of his sunken face. He was defiant, even in the face of death, and by God she wasn’t going to let him down. Mira would show him how strong she was, show him his legacy in her. She wouldn’t let him break, or any of them. Even if she only had bare threads of the universe, she’d stitch a mother fucking parachute for them all.

“Your father’s had a bad day honey,” and Mum hummed a few times to herself, like she did every time she was tense; which was all the time lately.

“Ok, no worries,” bright as a button, with fuck you cancer steel in her eyes, Mira bounced over and gave her parents each a savoured kiss on the cheek. Little, everyday things were all of a sudden the very big things.

Strolling back into the kitchen, Mira surveyed the demolition sight that was once her Mexican dinner fiesta.

Lai jumped off the counter, phone in hand, and didn’t even look up to say thanks as she typed furiously down the hall.

Mira sighed. She’d wanted so desperately to recreate something special, a moment they’d never have again. She’d just wanted to sit in it one more time.

Instead she sat in her work clothes, itching at her skirt, pecking at leftovers.

Eventually, with a food coma promising to set in, Mira stretched and slid off the kitchen bench. She dragged her feet through the motions of cleaning up the kitchen, yawned deeply, and pulled herself off to bed.

Morning was always deceitful. It was in the morning that Dad got up by himself and gave her a kiss. It was in the morning he smiled, even though the movement looked like it could crack his fragile face to smithereens. It was in the morning she saw a little twinkle in his eyes and she pulled him to the Earth with hope, keeping him close for another day.

Not at night though.

Dad was an unfathomable force of strength. Everyone thinks that about their dad, but this man really had it - a fight that surged and stuck its finger up at surrender.

When Dad dropped a wine bottle on his foot and it swelled black and blue three times its size he didn’t flinch, didn’t even grunt; he just put his boots on and went to work.

When his appendix burst it took another 24 hours to convince Dad to go to the hospital because that’s the man he was. Nothing broke him, nothing stopped him; he wouldn’t let it because that would mean stop fighting and Dad fought till the end.

But at night her father’s screams of agony saturated the house. It was frighteningly wrong. She didn’t hold him to the Earth at night, didn’t try to pin him down with her hope. At night she prayed to God to let it stop, to let him be free.

It’s indescribable, the kind of self-destructive loathing that comes from praying someone you love was dead. It corrodes your soul deep down past the layers of sense and boundary, past the things you can fix.

“Mir.”

Mira sat up in bed, seeing Lai’s silhouette in the doorway.

“Come on,” and Mira moved over in her childhood single bed, making room for Lai to squish up beside her.

Against the screams, Mira put her hands over Lai’s ears. She felt her little sister’s tears streaming over her arm as she whispered over and over again “It’s ok baby, I got you baby.”

And Mira held back the needles pricking her own eyes. Not tonight misery, she had a job to do.

So she kept singing along to Airplanes in her head.

Eventually Dad’s screaming stopped, and sometime after that Mira finally drifted into a restless sleep. She had flash dreams of running a trail, trying to keep up with someone, but it was impossible to see them clearly as a haze of dust was always in her eyes.

It had been a hell of a night, the worst yet.

Mira woke thinking it was incredible she’d beaten her alarm.

But she hadn’t, Mira had slept through it.

“Shit Lai, get up! I’m going to be late.”

“Stop it,” Lai grumbled as Mira shoved at her to move. Mira dashed into the shower while Lai was still complaining in her half-sleep.

Mira flew out to the kitchen, trying to push down her hair that was frizzing up a halo around her face.

“Ma, have you got a hair tie? I gotta get going to work,” She blustered past Mum making toast.

“You need to drop Lai off at school this morning,” Mum instructed.

“Jeez Mum I’m going to be late!” But Mira wasn’t exactly talking about work.

“I’ve got to take your father into the doctor this morning, he had a really bad time of it last night.”

Mira wanted to wail Fat lotta good that will do, but she bit her frustration back and just said “K, no worries Ma.”

Mira rapped all her urgency out on the bathroom door.

“Come on Lai, seriously, we’re both going to be late.”

After another five excruciatingly long minutes, Lai breezed out of the bathroom with her hair perfectly straightened and eyeliner nailed.

“Really? I’m going to work and I don’t even have makeup on for fuck’s sake,” Mira fumed.

“Not my fault you’ve got no self-respect. No wonder you’re old and alone,” Lai pushed her hand in Mira’s face before she could launch into a rhetoric about genuine self-respect.

But in the car Mira had Lai cornered.

“Let me tell you something…”

Lai groaned and looked out the passenger window.

“One day, if you’re lucky enough you’re going to be old.”

Lai stuck her tongue out in repulsion.

“Oh I know, you think you won’t but you will. In fact, if you’re really lucky, you’re going to spend more of your life old than young.

And if you’ve spent your whole youth measuring your worth by how pretty you are, how many boys are looking at you, and how many girls wanna be around you; you’ll never find you - ‘cause you’re too busy measuring your weight on someone else’s scales.

Put some of your firecracker energy to working out who you are now. ‘Cause if you don’t find that bright light inside you that no one can touch, you’re going to get snuffed out over and over again. The only person you’ve got to chase is you. The only person you’ve got to be your best for is you.

Time’s gonna take your reflection baby, make sure you’ve got something with more endurance that shines.”

Turning her head back to Mira, Lai squinted and said “We’re at school weirdo.”

“Oh yeah! Love you and hey…” Mira grabbed Lai’s arm as she was scooting out the passenger door “No scrapping. Keep your head in your studies.”

Lai slipped Mira’s grip and was out the door hollering back at her “I know! My education is my responsibility, and it’s a gift, and knowledge is power bleh bleh bleh,” She made mouthy movements with her hand at Mira.

“Nah!” Mira shot back, “I was gonna say protect that pretty little face. No one likes cauliflower ears.”

Conceding with a grin Lai boomed back “Love you too!” And she was bounding off.

Lai was so full of energy and anger. It wasn’t her fault. She was too little, dealing with too much, trying to be all grown up and handle it. But it wasn’t in her DNA yet, she was too young; and you can’t speed up maturity, well not the same way you can with rage.

Mira parked the car and looked at her phone.

20 minutes until she had to be at work. She could make it.

She was acting crazy but she had wings on her feet and Mira wanted to fly again.

Like a little field mouse Mira scurried down the foot path. Instead of turning right towards work, she swung a sharp left into the park. The motion pulled Mira’s bag off her shoulder and as she looked over to fix it she collided with someone.

“Sorry,” She looked up and her breath caught.

“You came.”

“Oh yeah,” Mira fumbled with her bag strap that kept tenaciously slipping off her shoulder, “I just wanted to let you know I was running late this morning so I couldn’t meet you.”

Rex took the bag strap out of Mira’s awkward grasp and popped it on her shoulder. It stopped falling off.

“So you came to the park to tell me you didn’t have time to come to the park?” Even though Rex’s face was serious, his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Yeah,” Mira giggled, her cheeks burning.

“That’s messed up. You had breakfast?”

“No,” Mira swatted the air, “There’s a café on the way to work. I’ll pick something up.”

“I’ll walk you,” and Rex held out his hand.

Mira looked at his hand for an extra second, feeling her heart build momentum. Warmth simmered in her chest, promising a raging soul-fire if she took the offered kindling.

Mira put her hand in his, sweaty palm be damned!

It was hard to concentrate, hand in hand with this man she didn’t know, who didn’t know her, who was setting her core alight. When she was with Rex it felt like her vibrations were moving faster, sparking bursts of bright energy that made everything clearer and higher. She felt places inside herself opening up that she’d never known existed.

They walked into the café and Rex went straight to the glass counter.

“What do you want?”

“Oh I’ll get it. Seriously,” Mira took her hand back and started furiously fighting with the zip on her handbag that was all of a sudden jammed.

Rex put his hand on hers and warm tingles blew up her arm straight to her chest. Her soul recognised his flow now and met with it like a magnet.

He turned to the lady behind the counter, “Can I have an egg and bacon roll, a tub of yoghurt…”

“What flavour?” The lady tolled with the mechanical ting of someone who asked the same questions day in and day out.

Rex raised his eyebrows at Mira.

“No, I’m fine really…”

He turned back to the lady “Make it boysenberry.”

That was her favourite!

Settle the fuck down Mira, he’s getting his own breakfast clearly, She chastised herself.

Mira went back to wrestling with her handbag.

“And a blueberry muffin,” he finished.

“Anything else?” The lady asked.

“And two coffees.”

The lady went over to the coffee machine.

Mira now had her bag off of her shoulder and was examining the zip more closely.

What the hell was wrong with it?!

Mira jiggled it furiously.

All of a sudden it slid open and Mira held her purse up above her head triumphantly. Her sparkling eyes met the gaze of the lady behind the counter who was staring dryly back at her.

Mira shot her arms down and started to subconsciously smooth her skirt.

“Put that away, here,” Rex gave her the whole oversized bag of food in one hand and a coffee in the other.

“But I don’t need all of this,” She gasped.

Rex chuckled “That’s the whole point of a gift. You’re not very good at taking gifts are you?”

“I’m just not used to it,” she replied plainly, shrugging.

“Then you need more practice,” Rex opened the café door for Mira.

“Ha?” She squinted up at him against the brightness of the outside world.

“I’d like to feed you again,” Rex persisted.

“You’ve already given me breakfast, lunch and an afternoon snack!” Mira was dying inside.

She loathed to her bones the idea that she could be taking advantage of someone else’s generosity. In fact Mira spent a great deal of her energy ensuring she gave more to others than they gave her, and she’d rarely had opposition to that. With Rex though Mira felt like she was fighting a loosing battle just to balance the scales.

“Then you’ll need dinner. Are you free tonight?”

“I should stay home,” Mira sighed.

“Come on, it’s Friday night.”

“Only if you let me get dinner,” Mira set her eyes.

“Jeez, you’re tenacious - but I can’t let you do that,” Rex’s eyes were just as set.

A lightbulb flickered in Mira’s head.

“What if I cook you dinner? That’s totally different to buying.”

“Seriously, I can’t let you,” Rex sounded final.

But Mira smiled, all the way up to her eyes “It’s a gift.”

And she kept going before Rex had a chance to roadblock her rocket idea further.

“I’ve got an apartment just a couple of blocks away, you could come over. Wait, no.

No offence but that would be really inconvenient if you turned out to be a psycho, for me.”

Rex looked on her quietly with amusement in his eyes.

“But the apartment block’s got a common area on the roof. It’s like a garden with seats, and the weather’s getting warmer. The view’s amazing!

And it’s public so you’ll find it much harder to dice me into little pieces.”

Mira raised her eyebrows, asking him with her eyes

You down?

“I’m down,” Rex smiled.

His response flustered her momentarily.

“Here I’ll give you the address,” Mira flicked through her sketchbook to a blank page and scribbled her apartment address on it.

Rex’s fingers touched Mira’s as he took the note, and warmth enveloped her.

“May I?” he tilted his head at her sketchbook.

“Oh sure, but it’s nothing really. Just scribbles.”

Mira watched with an excruciating heart, held on a precipice, as he flicked through page after page of her sketches. They were mainly different versions of the sunlight through the trees at the park. Mira wanted desperately to capture that kaleidoscope but so far she’d done it no justice.

Rex handed her sketchbook back reverently.

“They’re good, really good.”

“Really?” Mira beamed out of every essence of her being.

He nodded “I’d like to see more.”

And she believed him.

“Meet you in the lobby at seven tonight?”

“Perfect,” Rex said with a tone of conviction that promised so much more, and it was like someone had set off a whole fireworks display inside Mira.