Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer by Demelza Carlton
strawberries, music and ducklings." And occasionally me. I felt myself smiling. I opened my eyes again.
Chris shook her head. "Strawberries, music and ducklings. You know her real well, don't you?" She pressed her lips together. "Stay away from her, Nathan. That girl isn't good for you."
I shook my own head. Stay away from her? I'd go crazy with worry in a day. "You don't know her."
Chris looked grim. "Neither do you." She turned away, picked up a sponge and scrubbed the bench so hard it looked like she wanted to take the laminate off it. "Is there anything you wouldn't do for her?" she muttered, half under her breath.
I wasn't sure if she'd meant me to hear that last bit, but I was too pissed off to care. Nothing Chris said could come between me and Caitlin.
"Yes," I snapped. "I wouldn't die for her."
Chris turned around to stare at me, her mouth hanging open. She stood there in shock for maybe half a minute before she spoke. "Well... well, that's good," she said uncertainly.
"Do you want to know why?" I asked steadily.
"I..." Chris swallowed, seemingly lost for words. That didn't happen much. Another day, I'd have felt triumph, but today there was only anger. Caitlin was the key to keeping Chris alive, but today I didn't care any more.
"I wouldn't die for her because I wouldn't be able to protect her any more. What if I missed one of the people who hurt her and my absence let them get to her? I couldn't take that risk. She's too important." I walked out of the kitchen before she replied. I'd promised Caitlin I'd be back before dark and I didn't want to be late.
"... Fucking paranoid, delusional..." I heard Chris's voice say as I opened the front door.
Not as delusional as thinking that I'm safe and no one can hurt me, I thought. There are real monsters out there. The worst part is that they're human.
62
I stood at the garage door, wishing I didn't have to drive the car Caitlin hated so much. Maybe I should sell it and buy something so different this one would only be a distant, bad memory. I looked past it and my eyes fell on the dusty cover shrouding the car beside mine. Alanna's car, untouched since they took her. The car she'd never come home to drive again.
My feet moved of their own volition as I reached out automatically to take the cover off. I shook my head as I saw the car. I still didn't understand our parents' reasoning behind giving me the solid, dependable sedan while Alanna got the sporty convertible. She'd never had so much as a speeding fine driving this thing and there was no way she'd let me touch it.
I touched the smooth, white contours of her car, wishing she was here to say, "Don't even think about it, Nathan," as she shook her keys at me. I wished I could ask her about Caitlin, and whether she thought I was as crazy as Chris did. Would Alanna have let me take her car, when mine scared Caitlin so much? Or would she have told me I was being stupid and to leave the poor girl alone?
I'd never know. Alanna wasn't coming back and her car would sit here, gathering dust, until we got rid of it. Unless I got rid of my car and kept hers...
I wiped my eyes, which were tearing up in the airborne dust from shifting the car cover. I could feel my throat choking up, too. The dust must have been pretty thick.
I found Alanna's keys and turned them in the ignition. I got nothing. It hadn't been driven in months, so a flat battery didn't come as a big surprise. I hunted around the garage for jumper leads to jumpstart her car from mine. We'd never needed them – they were still sealed in the packet. I ripped the plastic open with a pocket knife.
Hooking up the cables, I started my engine, before clipping the last clamp to Alanna's car battery. I slid into the driver's seat and shifted it back, so there was enough space for me, tossing the pocket knife into the glove box. This time, the ignition caught and as I revved the engine, I realised her little car had far more power than mine. Perfect Alanna, never a foot wrong, to the point where our parents had trusted her with a high-powered sports car when she'd turned twenty-one. God, I missed her. She'd have been able to tell me what to do.
I turned the Mercedes off and put the cables away. I climbed back into Alanna's car and headed for Caitlin's house.
Maybe half a kilometre from home, I decided to take the top off. I'd never driven a convertible before, much less a topless one, and it seemed like a really good idea right now. Maybe the air flow would help clear my head, or even just the dust from my eyes, which were still streaming.
Five minutes later, I could barely feel my hands in the freezing wind. When I stopped at the traffic lights, I looked around for something to wrap around me to keep warm. An old, padded jacket, with a logo from an airline company that had long since gone out of business, was spread across the back seat and I struggled to put it on before the lights went green. I managed to zip it up before I took off. I wondered who'd left the jacket in Alanna's car, but I realised I'd never know. It smelled faintly of her perfume, so I knew she'd worn it in the past. Or cuddled up real close to someone who had. I laughed aloud at the thought of Alanna doing anything like that in this car. She'd have insisted on dinner, a movie or a show, before even considering suggesting he provide a luxurious bed, several dates later. The exact opposite of me.
I took the onramp to the freeway and cheered as the car responded perfectly to the accelerator. It was a heady contrast to the slow, steady speed increase of my sedan. I checked my mirrors before merging and realised my hair was standing on end, blown everywhere in the breeze that had frozen me to the bone. Caitlin would laugh herself silly – never a bad thing – if I turned up with a crest like a cockatoo, but I didn't want to take her out to dinner looking like a cocky. I spotted a cap on the floor by the passenger seat and stuck it on my head, praying it would flatten my hair or at least hide it.
As I pulled into Caitlin's street, I took the cap off and looked hopefully at the mirror, but was sadly disappointed. I stuck the cap back on and wondered if Caitlin would agree to order takeaway food again or let me use her bathroom to fix my hair. If I'd thought to get my hair cut, this wouldn't be a problem. Only skinheads and bald blokes should drive convertibles with the top down, I told myself, resolving to shave my head in the morning.
I pulled into her driveway and checked the time. Shit, I was late. Arguing with Chris and jumpstarting a car had taken more time than I thought. I saw the lace curtain at the front window move and knew Caitlin had seen me. I pulled the cap down firmly to cover my hair and took a deep breath.
Caitlin flew down the steps, a look of terror on her face. She skittered to a stop in front of my car for a moment, staring.
Cautiously, I opened the door and started to climb out. Her eyes widened further and she took off down the street. I looked around, but I couldn't see what had scared her so much.
I expected her to come back, but Caitlin kept going, as if someone was pursuing her. I broke into a run, too, determined to catch up to her so I could keep her in sight. If someone was after her, I had to stay with her to protect her.
It had been too long since I'd last gone for a run. I couldn't catch my breath, but she was visibly flagging as she reached the end of her endurance. I was amazed she'd made it this distance from the house and I worried that Caitlin would push her body too far, doing herself even more injury.
She almost tripped, then righted herself before she hit the ground.
"No, stop!" I begged her breathlessly. "Come back. You can't..."
I meant to say she couldn't run far, but it seemed fear had driven her to do just that.
"... can't outrun me," I finished. That was true, at least. And I didn't want her to try.
"Come back. Please. Let me..."
She made a fearful sound in her throat and I redoubled my speed, desperate to catch up, stop her and find out why she was so frightened.
I reached out, desperately, trying to grab her shoulder. As my fingers touched her, she overbalanced, falling face-first onto the lawn of a stranger's house.
As soon as Caitlin hit the grass, sh
e rolled over to face me, the tears in her eyes set on fire by the light of the setting sun. She let out a sobbing breath, her hands up as if to stop me from coming any closer.
My heart was already pounding from panic and the unaccustomed exercise. I felt it drop like Caitlin had when she'd fallen. "Angel, are you okay?" I asked, expecting the worst and hoping I was wrong.
A curtain in the house twitched and the front door opened. An angry-looking woman peered out of the partly open door, a hockey stick in her hand.
Caitlin's sobbing resolved into words. "How... could... why..."
I tried to smile, but it was hard. I wanted desperately to know what had scared her, but I didn't dare ask with an angry audience. "What do you think of my new car?" I asked, seeing movement around me as more of her neighbours emerged from their houses. I wondered which one held the piano-playing child. Most of them were armed with sporting equipment – I saw a couple more hockey sticks, some cricket bats and a tennis racquet. One bloke carried a massive axe that I hoped stayed on his side of the street, as far away from us as possible.
"Your... new car?" Caitlin managed to say.
"Yes," I replied patiently, glancing around. All of them seemed content to watch for the moment. "I know you didn't like the old one, so I figured it was time for something new." Forgive me, Alanna, but I'd drive a hot pink hatchback if it meant Caitlin wouldn't be so
Chris shook her head. "Strawberries, music and ducklings. You know her real well, don't you?" She pressed her lips together. "Stay away from her, Nathan. That girl isn't good for you."
I shook my own head. Stay away from her? I'd go crazy with worry in a day. "You don't know her."
Chris looked grim. "Neither do you." She turned away, picked up a sponge and scrubbed the bench so hard it looked like she wanted to take the laminate off it. "Is there anything you wouldn't do for her?" she muttered, half under her breath.
I wasn't sure if she'd meant me to hear that last bit, but I was too pissed off to care. Nothing Chris said could come between me and Caitlin.
"Yes," I snapped. "I wouldn't die for her."
Chris turned around to stare at me, her mouth hanging open. She stood there in shock for maybe half a minute before she spoke. "Well... well, that's good," she said uncertainly.
"Do you want to know why?" I asked steadily.
"I..." Chris swallowed, seemingly lost for words. That didn't happen much. Another day, I'd have felt triumph, but today there was only anger. Caitlin was the key to keeping Chris alive, but today I didn't care any more.
"I wouldn't die for her because I wouldn't be able to protect her any more. What if I missed one of the people who hurt her and my absence let them get to her? I couldn't take that risk. She's too important." I walked out of the kitchen before she replied. I'd promised Caitlin I'd be back before dark and I didn't want to be late.
"... Fucking paranoid, delusional..." I heard Chris's voice say as I opened the front door.
Not as delusional as thinking that I'm safe and no one can hurt me, I thought. There are real monsters out there. The worst part is that they're human.
62
I stood at the garage door, wishing I didn't have to drive the car Caitlin hated so much. Maybe I should sell it and buy something so different this one would only be a distant, bad memory. I looked past it and my eyes fell on the dusty cover shrouding the car beside mine. Alanna's car, untouched since they took her. The car she'd never come home to drive again.
My feet moved of their own volition as I reached out automatically to take the cover off. I shook my head as I saw the car. I still didn't understand our parents' reasoning behind giving me the solid, dependable sedan while Alanna got the sporty convertible. She'd never had so much as a speeding fine driving this thing and there was no way she'd let me touch it.
I touched the smooth, white contours of her car, wishing she was here to say, "Don't even think about it, Nathan," as she shook her keys at me. I wished I could ask her about Caitlin, and whether she thought I was as crazy as Chris did. Would Alanna have let me take her car, when mine scared Caitlin so much? Or would she have told me I was being stupid and to leave the poor girl alone?
I'd never know. Alanna wasn't coming back and her car would sit here, gathering dust, until we got rid of it. Unless I got rid of my car and kept hers...
I wiped my eyes, which were tearing up in the airborne dust from shifting the car cover. I could feel my throat choking up, too. The dust must have been pretty thick.
I found Alanna's keys and turned them in the ignition. I got nothing. It hadn't been driven in months, so a flat battery didn't come as a big surprise. I hunted around the garage for jumper leads to jumpstart her car from mine. We'd never needed them – they were still sealed in the packet. I ripped the plastic open with a pocket knife.
Hooking up the cables, I started my engine, before clipping the last clamp to Alanna's car battery. I slid into the driver's seat and shifted it back, so there was enough space for me, tossing the pocket knife into the glove box. This time, the ignition caught and as I revved the engine, I realised her little car had far more power than mine. Perfect Alanna, never a foot wrong, to the point where our parents had trusted her with a high-powered sports car when she'd turned twenty-one. God, I missed her. She'd have been able to tell me what to do.
I turned the Mercedes off and put the cables away. I climbed back into Alanna's car and headed for Caitlin's house.
Maybe half a kilometre from home, I decided to take the top off. I'd never driven a convertible before, much less a topless one, and it seemed like a really good idea right now. Maybe the air flow would help clear my head, or even just the dust from my eyes, which were still streaming.
Five minutes later, I could barely feel my hands in the freezing wind. When I stopped at the traffic lights, I looked around for something to wrap around me to keep warm. An old, padded jacket, with a logo from an airline company that had long since gone out of business, was spread across the back seat and I struggled to put it on before the lights went green. I managed to zip it up before I took off. I wondered who'd left the jacket in Alanna's car, but I realised I'd never know. It smelled faintly of her perfume, so I knew she'd worn it in the past. Or cuddled up real close to someone who had. I laughed aloud at the thought of Alanna doing anything like that in this car. She'd have insisted on dinner, a movie or a show, before even considering suggesting he provide a luxurious bed, several dates later. The exact opposite of me.
I took the onramp to the freeway and cheered as the car responded perfectly to the accelerator. It was a heady contrast to the slow, steady speed increase of my sedan. I checked my mirrors before merging and realised my hair was standing on end, blown everywhere in the breeze that had frozen me to the bone. Caitlin would laugh herself silly – never a bad thing – if I turned up with a crest like a cockatoo, but I didn't want to take her out to dinner looking like a cocky. I spotted a cap on the floor by the passenger seat and stuck it on my head, praying it would flatten my hair or at least hide it.
As I pulled into Caitlin's street, I took the cap off and looked hopefully at the mirror, but was sadly disappointed. I stuck the cap back on and wondered if Caitlin would agree to order takeaway food again or let me use her bathroom to fix my hair. If I'd thought to get my hair cut, this wouldn't be a problem. Only skinheads and bald blokes should drive convertibles with the top down, I told myself, resolving to shave my head in the morning.
I pulled into her driveway and checked the time. Shit, I was late. Arguing with Chris and jumpstarting a car had taken more time than I thought. I saw the lace curtain at the front window move and knew Caitlin had seen me. I pulled the cap down firmly to cover my hair and took a deep breath.
Caitlin flew down the steps, a look of terror on her face. She skittered to a stop in front of my car for a moment, staring.
Cautiously, I opened the door and started to climb out. Her eyes widened further and she took off down the street. I looked around, but I couldn't see what had scared her so much.
I expected her to come back, but Caitlin kept going, as if someone was pursuing her. I broke into a run, too, determined to catch up to her so I could keep her in sight. If someone was after her, I had to stay with her to protect her.
It had been too long since I'd last gone for a run. I couldn't catch my breath, but she was visibly flagging as she reached the end of her endurance. I was amazed she'd made it this distance from the house and I worried that Caitlin would push her body too far, doing herself even more injury.
She almost tripped, then righted herself before she hit the ground.
"No, stop!" I begged her breathlessly. "Come back. You can't..."
I meant to say she couldn't run far, but it seemed fear had driven her to do just that.
"... can't outrun me," I finished. That was true, at least. And I didn't want her to try.
"Come back. Please. Let me..."
She made a fearful sound in her throat and I redoubled my speed, desperate to catch up, stop her and find out why she was so frightened.
I reached out, desperately, trying to grab her shoulder. As my fingers touched her, she overbalanced, falling face-first onto the lawn of a stranger's house.
As soon as Caitlin hit the grass, sh
My heart was already pounding from panic and the unaccustomed exercise. I felt it drop like Caitlin had when she'd fallen. "Angel, are you okay?" I asked, expecting the worst and hoping I was wrong.
A curtain in the house twitched and the front door opened. An angry-looking woman peered out of the partly open door, a hockey stick in her hand.
Caitlin's sobbing resolved into words. "How... could... why..."
I tried to smile, but it was hard. I wanted desperately to know what had scared her, but I didn't dare ask with an angry audience. "What do you think of my new car?" I asked, seeing movement around me as more of her neighbours emerged from their houses. I wondered which one held the piano-playing child. Most of them were armed with sporting equipment – I saw a couple more hockey sticks, some cricket bats and a tennis racquet. One bloke carried a massive axe that I hoped stayed on his side of the street, as far away from us as possible.
"Your... new car?" Caitlin managed to say.
"Yes," I replied patiently, glancing around. All of them seemed content to watch for the moment. "I know you didn't like the old one, so I figured it was time for something new." Forgive me, Alanna, but I'd drive a hot pink hatchback if it meant Caitlin wouldn't be so