They Don't Talk About It by Lee-Ann Khoh
They Don’t Talk About It
A flash fiction collection
By Lee-Ann Khoh
License Notes
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Copyright 2013 Lee-Ann Khoh
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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To my family... Thank you for loving me, even though I decided to write instead of being an accountant.
Contents
They Don't Talk About It
Living on a Lie
The City Is My Home
Fallen
Unspoken
Resignation to the End
Fish Live in Trees
Mother
Black Dog
Honesty
They Don’t Talk About It
They lie together on musty white sheets, entangled in each other’s naked bodies as the air conditioner washes the shining sweat from their skin. Her lips are pressed softly against his neck; her right hand caresses his chest as it rises and falls. She smiles with a contented sigh. He curls a hand under her hip and gives it a light tickle, spawning bubbly giggles from her mouth. She can still taste him on her tongue. In this perfect moment, there is no time and no one else in the world but the two of them. But moments are gone in a breath.
They don’t talk about it.
They don’t talk about the coded text messages that preface their clandestine meetings in the seedy security of motel rooms.
They don’t talk about how they can never be caught holding hands or looking too long at each other like normal lovers walking down the street.
They don’t talk about how her heart won’t let her date anyone else even though her head knows he’ll never truly be hers.
They don’t talk about the grubby rolled-up banknote sitting under the bedside lamp or the lines of white powder on the desk by the window that he’ll suck up his nostrils once she rolls over and closes her eyes.
They don’t talk about the gold band that encircles his fourth finger and binds him to his doting, picture-perfect family.
They just lie together in silence, holding their breaths until the real world breaks through.
~~~~
Living on a Lie
Kelly’s life began with a lie.
Hector planted the first seed. “Don’t worry about it, babe,” he smiled. “I love you. Let’s do this.”
For Megan, the walk of shame to the pharmacy counter was almost as mortifying as sitting on the frosty bathroom tiles of her childhood home, staring at a stick she’d just peed on and feeling the future dissipate into the wind.
“Megan? Are you okay in there?”
Megan jumped at the sound of her father’s voice. “Y-Yes,” she lied, watering the seed. “Everything’s fine.”
The news hit Hector like a bullet to the brain, spraying his dreams and aspirations into blood-soaked oblivion. Forcing a smile, he took Megan’s hand and silently ticked off all the things his mother would want him to say. “Will you… be my wife?” he finally asked.
“I…I’d love to,” Megan whispered. The roots pushed their way into the earth.
Their daughter Kelly came screaming into world eight months later, piercing into Hector’s raging hangover. He prayed he would just black out but unconsciousness eluded him.
Belinda, the new secretary, reeled him in with a wink and a smile four days after Kelly’s first birthday. Hector dialled home, told Megan he would be working late and quickly hung up to cut the sound of Kelly’s wails. After a few months, he stopped calling and Megan stopped expecting him to.
“Hey, let me help you with that.”
Megan turned to meet the next door neighbour, Cody, who effortlessly scooped up three bags of her groceries and carried them inside. As the year dragged on, her reliance on Cody grew. During endless nights of pretending to be asleep, she found herself wondering what sort of dad Cody would make, while Hector stumbled into the room still reeking of perfume.
The shoots broke through the dirt, reaching towards the sun.
“Daddy, can we have a puppy?” begged Kelly.
Hector, who had no intention of cleaning up dog poop now that his daughter was finally toilet trained, smiled and shook his head. “No, sweetie, it’s a big responsibility we can’t afford right now.” He thought about the diamond necklace he’d just bought Belinda and how beautiful it looked on her.
Thick, vibrant leaves uncoiled from their stems.
Megan sank into the couch, planning her next words to Cody. She felt a sudden, stern tug on the tails of her dress.
“Mummy, are you happy?”
Megan blinked down at Kelly. “Of course I am, honey. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The flowers were in bloom.
~~~~
The City Is My Home
The city is my home. Every street, every corner, pulsating with the stories I know too well.
I rise to the sound of the morning rush. Rolling waves of bleary-eyed zombies step off the train and trudge towards the station exits in crisp business suits and ill-fitting work uniforms. Horton, a beefy transit guard who once dreamt of becoming a police officer stands over a sandy-haired boy of about 13. The boy stares at his scuffed sneakers as Horton berates him for forgetting his student pass before letting him go with a warning. Horton returns to his post and sighs, his eyes as lifeless as those of the weary workers who shuffle past him.
The city has calmed down by mid-morning as the homely aroma of caffeine drifts down the café strip. I was never much of a coffee drinker but I savour it deeply, imagining the liquid flowing down my throat and warming my stomach. Melissa sits alone in the alfresco area with a steaming cappuccino that lies untouched on the table in front of her. Until recently she ran the bookstore around the corner. The books have now been cleared and the space is available for lease.
At lunchtime, workers from the central business district and university kids flood into the main streets. I desperately wish to eat but there’s nothing I can do except hover by a nearby bench and watch the buskers. Rajesh sets up in the middle of the busy pedestrian mall, armed with an acoustic guitar and his best smile. He gratefully thanks everyone who is polite enough to drop a couple of coins or maybe even a small note into his guitar case. Rajesh is a year into his pharmacy degree but harbours secret dreams of being a musician. He tries to busk at least once a week in a bid to live out his fantasies while keeping his parents assured that he’ll get a real job someday. But it’s hard to find the time.
Later in the afternoon, high school students begin to spill into the city, their shirts untucked and half-unbuttoned. I follow their lead through the malls and arcades, examining things I’ll never buy. Staring at her reflection in a shop window, Angelique puckers her mouth to apply a layer of lip gloss before joining her friends to flirt with the cute boys in the surf shop. She wishes she could talk to someone about how she isn’t really into boys, but she knows they wouldn’t understand. And there’s nothing more terrifying than being at school and alone.
As the sun begins to dip in the sky, the zombie workers clamour onto the trains once more and start draining out of the city. They are replaced by a younger, fresher mob that drifts towards the pubs and clubs, laughing hysterically and looking for a good time. A fight breaks out on a street corner but is quickly scattered by a pair of beat cops. Trash talking and wrestling is nothing compared to what will come later in the night when drunken, stoned bravado takes hold.
Jared
I sigh and turn away from the entertainment precinct. The city is my home and I know its stories only too well.
I find a spot in the park by the flower garden where I used to play a lifetime ago. My hand drifts to my stomach where the blade entered and passes through air.
Tomorrow will be another day in the city.
~~~~
Fallen
A hint of five o’clock shadow had collected on Joe’s face and his office was lit only by the eerie glow of moonlight seeping through the window. Everyone else had gone home but there was only an empty refrigerator waiting for him there.
“My name is Joe and I’m an alcoholic,” he announced to the room.
“Hello, Joe!” he replied to himself.
He made a noise that sounded vaguely like laughter and started to tremble.
Gripping the desk, Joe closed his eyes and thought of Ella. He imagined the feel of her silky dark hair between his fingers and her racing heart against his chest; the exhilaration that came with stealing a final desperate kiss before they returned to the reality of their lives. From the moment she smiled back at him at Neil’s party almost a year ago, it had been his mission to have her.
Two years earlier, Joe had pulled that angelic white veil away to reveal Charlotte’s innocent eyes peering expectantly at him… like he was some kind of hero. Joe loved that look. It spoke everything he needed without uttering a single word. He’d known then he would crave that look forever.
“In the presence of God and before these witnesses I promise to be a loving, faithful and loyal husband to you, for as long as we both shall live,” he mimicked to the room, and chuckled humourlessly. Tender, beautiful Charlotte; his to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health… until Ella had caught his eye. And now he was nothing but a pathetic, lonely cautionary tale who’d gambled away his life.
Joe…
“What?” Joe looked around but there was no one there.
You know you want me, Joe.
It was coming from his desk. He opened the drawer. His hand closed around a bottle. He shook it. Empty. He dropped it to the ground in disgust.
“Yeah, real funny, you jerk!” he muttered to the ceiling.
From the outside, Joe had always led a charmed life. Handsome, popular, astute. It was in his blood. No one knew how much he hated himself. Or how he hated the father who’d given him his name. Joe Senior was a drinking legend but unlike Joe Junior, he still had his family, friends and respect. Joe Senior had kept more women over the years than his son could count, and Joe Junior couldn’t even get away with one. It didn’t seem fair. For as far back as Joe could remember, he had played the game of life exactly the way his old man did and now he had nothing.
You have us, the bottle reminded him. We’ve always been there for you.
Joe held his head, choking back angry tears. “No…”
We can take away the pain, the bottle promised.
“Shut up!”
When have we ever let you down, Joe?
Joe screamed, standing and kicking his chair away in a fluid motion. He grabbed the bottle off the floor by its neck and with a Hail Mary pass, smashed it into the wall. Shards of glass sprayed back across the room. Almost instantly, the shock of bereavement tightened around Joe’s throat. He crouched into a foetal position behind his desk as the strangled sobs escaped him.
He was still there when the first rays of sunlight filtered into the room, telling him that it was time to brush his teeth, comb his hair and shave before any of his colleagues arrived and thought something was wrong.
~~~~
Unspoken
I’m waiting for your voice. My trembling hand is so damp the phone could slip from my fragile grasp at any moment. Each ring burns in my ear and makes the washing machine in my stomach tumble faster and faster. After three rings, or it could be four, or forty, I hear you.
“Hello.”
My heart jumps inside and my limbs go numb and useless. I have to sit.
We know the ritual well. I call you every week.
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Heyyyy, how’s it goin’?”
We go through the motions.
“So… what’s up?” you finally ask.
“Oh, not much. Just rang to say hi.” It’s a lie. It’s always a lie. Why can’t you tell?
“Cool. Anything on your mind?”
Do you remember that party last year? I do. I think of it every night. I’d been so happy then but now it’s the reason I have to cry myself to sleep sometimes.
It was late. We were upstairs at your place. Everyone else had gone home. We were both a little tipsy, giggling, dancing to something old and cheesy. You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth, that’s it. You reached towards me, tingling your fingers against the side of my neck and face. You caressed my cheek like a feather. I looked up at you, encircling you with my hands, pulling you closer. You leaned in and the bitter taste of your beer met strawberry lip gloss. It was nothing special or overly romantic, but I’ll never forget it. For the first time I knew, if only for a moment, that you wanted me too.
Now whenever we’re alone there’s a wretched ache behind my breast and between my legs. You crack a few lame jokes and tell me I’m hot. We share a few laughs. You talk about that beautiful girl who wanted you and no one else, and wonder why a nice pretty thing like me is single. All the while I just want to rip your trousers down, wrestle you to the ground and choke you with my kisses. I had one taste of you and now I’ll never be okay until I have you.
But I’ll never have you, will I?
“Just the usual. How’s your goddess been?”
Chuckle. “Yeahhh, she’s good. Really great. Just got back from her place actually.”
“Oh okay, cool…”
I want to hate her so much. But I’ve seen how cute you are together. How nice she is to everyone. How happy she makes you. How much she likes you. She’s special. In so many ways it’s worse than if you’d picked up some dumb shallow bitch. She’s fun, compassionate and gorgeous... and I’m me.
“Yeah… she reckons she’s in love with me!”
“Yeah… I know.”
Silence. I try to breathe.
“Well… I… guess… I better leave you to it.”
“Wait… can I just say something?”
“Sure, what is it?” I wonder.
Pause. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
“What?”
“Nothing… I guess I’ll speak to you next week.”
~~~~
Resignation to the End
“We need to talk.”
The words tore themselves from Nate’s throat and he felt Olivia stop slightly behind him, bracing herself.
Nate swallowed firmly, ignoring his sweating palms and let his eyes meet hers. He recalled the same butterflies he’d felt the day he first laid innocent eyes on her.
***
“I think I’m in love,” Nate gushed to the only person who would listen without making fun of him – Kaylen, his neighbour and best friend since primary school.
“Tell me about her.” Kaylen was almost four years younger than Nate – a lifetime when you were a teenager – but it had never bothered him. She was mature for her age and easier to talk to than the guys.
“She’s beautiful, smart, warm, friendly, I just want to be around her all the time!”
***
It seemed so long ago now. Nate stared into the depths of Olivia’s o
***
“Why is she always hanging around you?” Olivia demanded through gritted teeth.
“She’s my friend.”
“I’m your girlfriend!”
Nate shrugged in resignation, catching a glimpse of Kaylen outside. She’d been watching the entire reel play out from just behind the letterbox. Meeting Nate’s eye, she mouthed ‘Sorry’ through the open window and quickly disappeared up her driveway and into her house before Olivia could turn around and erupt any further.
***
Nate reached over and took Olivia’s left hand in his right, lightly tracing the smooth contours of her knuckles and fingers as he’d done a hundred times before.
“You know how I feel about you,” he murmured. “When we started out all those years ago, I never thought it would come to this.”
***
“I’m moving in with Olivia.”
Kaylen paused, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and began to fidget with her top button. “When?” she asked.
“In about a month,” said Nate. “We found a rental near the city.”
“That’s great, I’m so happy for you,” said Kaylen with a quick smile, before gesturing up the road. “I’ve got to get to school.”
She sprinted towards the bus stop before Nate could reply. He realised sadly that in a month’s time, he would no longer get to see his best friend every day.
***
“I’ve been putting this off for a long time,” Nate continued. “But it’s time.”
He knelt down tentatively and produced a small red box, studying Olivia’s face as he opened it.
“Olivia. Will you marry me?”
Stunned surprise melted into a smile, a breathy nod and a gratified shriek, and suddenly Nate felt confident everything was going to be okay.
***
Nate picked up his mobile and rang the only number on his speed dial. “Kaylen, guess what?”
“What?”
“I proposed to Olivia. She said yes.”
There was no response at the other end of the line.
“Kaylen?”
Silence.
“You there?”
The phone went dead and Nate was left alone in the room.