New Kahala

"Ah well. Come on mate, best get back down the house before they send a search party."

CAN'T SEE FOR LOOKING

Tony leads us into the house saying, "Mum, Jim got a Ford."

Denise sits us at a gingham tableclothed spread of cold meats, fresh bread rolls and salads.

"Beer?" Asks Blue.

"Um. Driving mate."

"You could stay tonight and head home in the morning." Denise suggests. "You're always welcome."

"What do you think, Kitty?" I ask Trina.

One of Denise's eyebrows makes a reach for the ceiling and she eyes me oddly upon hearing my nickname for Trina.

"I don't mind Jim. Actually, it would be good to go open up the old house and let some air through. There's always something needs doing there and I'm hardly ever home these days." Her eyes shine purple on mine as she speaks. Denise's eyes follow mine to Trina's then settle back on mine with a brief hint of a smile.

"Plenty of room Jim. Blue could use the company too. Since Greg's been back at work, he's minus a drinking buddy."

"Settled then." I tell them.

As Denise and Trina tidy the table after we've eaten, Blue and I discuss Effie.

"I tell you what those inner guards look shmick mate."

"Yeah, they leave a bit more room for the exhaust. I wanted extractors but it was still really cramped in there."

"Don't think you'll be short on ponies." He laughs. "Hey did you keep the rubbers?"

"Some spare ones in the bathroom cupboard if Jim needs rubbers." Denise calls from the kitchen and I look just in time to see Trina blushing furiously.

"Yeah, nah. I got all new ones. They're in the tray with the old Y block and the glass. Still got to pick up the interior. I keep forgetting."

"That old y-block might come in handy for a Mainline ute I've got up the back with a seized flat-head."

Denise brings more beers from the kitchen and Trina announces she's off to the other house.

"Katerina darlin, why don't you take Jim with you. There're two boxes of wine in the laundry that are going to waste. Maybe he can carry them to the quad for you."

"What is it with you and driving? Control issues?" I joke climbing onto the back of the Polaris quad.

"Shh. Hold on, the road gets a bit bumpy." So I put my hands around her waist. Leaning back, she says over her shoulder, "Haha, stop groping me, I meant hold on to the rack."

"You love it." I leave my arms around her waist. The contact is nice. I can't see her face, but her neck is flushed as she thumbs the quad to life and drives us back down the main driveway to a side track back out at the gate. The side track follows the fence line down to a line of trees alongside a creek. Over an old bridge, the trees open up to another farm about the same size as Blue and Denise's.

"New Kahala." Trina tells me as we pull up at the wrought iron gate in a low flaky picket fence. "This was Mum and Dad's place. Technically it's mine now but Blue and Denise run cattle on it to pay the rates for me. Laundry is under there.

It's a high set Queenslander style house that looks like it could use a lick of paint like the fence. Following Trina through the knee high lawn to the front stairs she stops and tells me, "Find me upstairs when you're finished."

Underneath the house is concreted and there is one walled in area that I presume is the Laundry. I make my way between old mowers and two covered vehicles to the laundry and find the boxes as directed. Carting them one by one back out to the quad takes all of a few minutes. Trina's shoes are beside the open front door, so I sit on the top step and remove my own while looking out at the yard. From this higher vantage I can make out garden edges and rose bushes and a wisteria covered Arbor. Someone must have loved this garden very much.

Whistling comes from deeper inside the house. When she's relaxed sometimes, like when we work on the F350 or walk on the beach she whistles to herself. Rooms branch off on both sides of the long hallway that runs straight through the house. I can see the back door from the front door. In what is obviously the living room my attention is drawn to photographs that cover the top of a fireplace mantel.

I find a photograph of the most beautiful woman in a wedding gown. I know they say that every bride looks beautiful but that's just bullshit like saying there's no such thing as an ugly baby. This lady however looks like a fairy tale princess. She is tall and willowy with white blonde hair that falls to her hips. She looks like my imagined version of Lady Galadriel. Her purple eyes peer out from a photogenically perfect face that reminds me of the one that appears beside me.

"Mum." Smiles Trina.

"She's beautiful."

"Her name was Astrid, everyone thought so."

"This is Dad, Elmo." She indicates another photo frame and picks it up to wipe dust from the glass before passing it to me. The photograph shows a very tall man next to the woman. They are standing in what looks like the Arbor downstairs and a girl of about thirteen is holding a bicycle. The girl looks up at the camera with mischievous eyes that mimic her mothers and a face that rivals her beauty. Long curly honey gold hair spills down past her shoulders.

"Who's the brat?"

"Dickhead."

"You were a beautiful kid."

"They were happy times. Come, I need a hand in the kitchen."

In the kitchen I help her move the fridge and watch as she uses a dustpan and brush to clean out a mouse nest. When she's vacuumed and mopped behind it, I shift the fridge back and she takes two beers from it and hands me one. She stares at hers for a moment before opening it then asks, "The kitchen has always been my favourite part of this house. It's where most of life happened... Want the magical mystery tour?"

"Sure."

She shows me through the house. Her parents room seems as they left it. There is even a tie lying on the bed and shoes near a dresser that look like someone just stepped out of them and left.

"This is the Library, Mum loved to read." One verandah is built in and lined with book shelves, "I try to cobweb and dust each time I visit. I can almost see her sitting in that chair sometimes still."

"This was my room." It looks like a kids room. There are dolls on the bed and playfull curtains. A pink doona covers the double bed.

"Do you come home often?" In the year I've know her I've never heard her speak of the house.

"No." Her voice is flat, so I let all my questions rest.

"It's a beautiful old house."

That gets me a sad smile and we return with our beers to the kitchen.

"Come for a walk?" she asks from the door.

"Sure, let me get my shoes."

In silence she leads me through a gate in the back yard. There are several old outbuildings and we take a cow track path that wanders through them. Along the way Trina picks yellow dandelions and gathers a small bunch of them.

One shed contains an old Ferguson tractor and a small Commer truck. There are farm implements stored beside them and I'm tempted to ask if they all still work but Trina is intent in her silence.

"The old dairy." She introduces it like an old friend. "This is where I remember them best. Mum down there in the milking pit hooking up the milker. Fussing over cleaning teats and smiling up at me. Happy even with her feet in cow shit."

She drops the dandelions down into the sunken centre of the dairy to land beside the withered remains of countless others. Toward the rear of the building sunlight spills through broken roofing and as Trina walks toward it her hair shines like a halo.

"Dad was usually round about here somewhere, fussing about cell counts and milk quality. They were saving for a better heating system, a new electric one. The old boiler was gas fired and the relief valve always sticking."

She stares through the hole in the roof for a while then she walks back through the dairy without waiting for me. I follow her to an old camphor laurel tree that stretches its giant limbs over cattle yards that once served the dairy. There is a little cast iron table and chairs beneath the tree.

"I found them when I came home from school. The boiler had blown up. Part of it went clear through the roof. The steam and pieces of it killed them. Mum's face was burned completely off. Dad copped most of the shrapnel. I ran all the way to Sassies house screaming."

Sometimes there are no words for the moment, so I study her face and watch loss and pain wash through her. Offering me a grim pout, she continues, "They used to sit here for a cup of tea. I buried their ashes under that table. Sometimes I come out here and have a cuppa with them. Stupid huh?"

All I can offer is to pull her into my chest in a dumb half hug. The gesture brings tears and she wraps her arms around me holding me tight while she sobs. I tangle fingers in her hair and hold her shoulders until they eventually stop shaking.

"Fucking sook." She says wiping her eyes, "Sorry about that."

"Come on." She takes my hand to pull me along after her back to the house. At the back stairs we realise we are still holding hands like kids and she stops to turn to me.

"Come down here a bit dickhead. That's better." She rewards me with a quick peck on the lips and answers my raised eyebrow with, "Thanks for... you know."

"Thanks for trusting me Kitty."

"Yuck, enough girly shit. I'll duck up and get us some roadies. Meet me back out at the quad."

"What's in the bag?" I ask her when she arrives a few minutes later.

"Just some clothes for us. Old stuff I haven't worn in ages, hope it still fits. Also got some of Dads clothes for you."

"Oh thanks, I hadn't thought of clothes."

She puts the bag on the front rack and hands me another beer. It's almost finished by the time we get back to find Blue has fired up the barbeque. I unload the wine cartons onto the verandah and Trina tells me to go wash up.

"Get a shower before there's no hot water Jim." She hands me a towel and a pile of clothes.

"Shorts and a t-shirt. Thought Dad's jocks were a bit creepy." She smiles.

"Ta." I can't help thinking as I shower of my 'second date' with Sasha and the naughty scrubbing that night. The shorts fit surprisingly well. They're a little old fashioned but you can't really see them for the length of the t-shirt. They smell like mothballs, but they feel a lot better than my sweaty clothes from today. "What is it with visiting here and not having my own clothes?" I wonder as I 'freeball' it back out to the barbeque.

"Trina says you had a look at her folk's dairy. See the hole in the roof?" Blue asks.

"Yeah."

"You'd think we'd have heard that wouldn't ya? Just across the creek and all but nup. Not a sound. Wind must have been going the other way. Tragic. It's been tough on the kid."

"She's stronger than she looks."

"Aint that the truth." He says shaking his head. "That girl has had to carry a lot."

"Oh?"

"Not my stories to tell, Jim. I'm just glad you two seem to be friends. She doesn't make many friends. Speak of the devil."

If the devil wears tiny daisy dukes and a white singlet top, then he looks a lot like Trina did when I looked up to the back door. I've only seen her in a dress once, a swimsuit a couple of times, otherwise she has a uniform code that extends to loose fitting jeans and button up blouses. This curly blonde whose legs look a lot longer than her five-foot frame should allow is not the Trina I know.

"Woah! I've met your sister." I dramatically extend a hand for introductions.

"Fuck off dickhead."

"Seriously, wow." I gesture for her to turn around and she screws her nose up in disgust. "What have you done with Trina?"

"Don't be a dick, Jim." She's flashing a purple eyed grin at me as she punches me.

"Woohoo, I remember this Trina." Blue says, reaching across to pinch Trina on the bum. "Good to see you back darlin."

"Dirty old cunt." She laughs rubbing her arse.

"Can't blame an old man. She used to have all the local boys lined up drooling, Jim."

"I can see why Blue." I smirk at Trina who blushes and tells us both to fuck off, flipping us off and wandering away. From behind her Blue and I simply stare at her disappearing butt. The frayed bottoms of her shorts allow a generous sight of pert thirty-three-year-old bum cheek.

We both realise we're staring when Denise snaps her fingers. "Earth to Blue. I said, 'did you want more beer?'"

"Do dogs lick their nuts darlin?"

"Jim?"

"Please Mum."

After dinner we take up the traditional place in front of the television. Tony wants to watch Home and Away but Blue veto's that decision and selects re-runs of Blue Heelers from a digital channel.

"Fucking homos and gays. Not watching that shit in this house."

"It's probably best you don't sit near Jim." Tony tells Trina as she brings more beers into the lounge room. "He gets erections a lot. And now he's got a Ford... Well.. With Sasha gone, he could get dangerous."

Denise rolls her eyes.

"I think I'm pretty safe Tony." Trina says kissing Tony on the cheek.

"You can always come sit on my lap." Blue offers.

"Dirty old bastard." Denise tells him.

Trina sits like she did in the truck with her back against the end of the couch and she puts her feet up on my lap. The air-conditioning is set as Blue likes it, to 'frozen wasteland' and I notice her tank top peak over her small breasts. I'm bothered by my reaction. There is a tension in my trouser region that threatens arousal and sans underwear that could spell disaster if it manifests while her legs are on my lap.

The more I try to ignore it, the worse it gets. Especially when Trina uses one foot to scratch her other calf and the heel of the scratching foot accidently brushes my slowly hardening willy. "Fucking hell, not again." I think.

Looking to see her reaction to the accidental contact she makes an "Oh my god, really" face at me and I raise my palm to my face in defeat. "Sorry." I mouth in her direction and she offers me a shrug. Feeling me harden further under her ankle she pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and throws it over her legs.

"What's with you and that bloody air-con, Dad? It's like Siberia in here."

I swallow a lump from my throat as Trina runs her heel along my shaft and shoots me a cheeky wink. Oh my god, this is Sasha's best friend and kind of sister who is teasing me with her feet, under a blanket on the couch near- just holy shit. I grab her foot to keep it still and pretend to massage it.

"Aw, thanks dick- um Jim. Sore today. Think I stood on something 'hard'. There's a bit of a 'lump' there." She smiles at me and points cheeky violet eyes at mine. Denise looks at Trina's eyes then at me and smiles to herself. Whatever that's about.

"Thanks Jim. I need the loo." Trina rises and leaves me with my blanket and my hard-on and my confusion. There's a memory I have of a cat I owned when I was a child that was run over right in front of me. I focus on the mental picture of that mess until my throbbing mast lowers to family friendly level.

"Jim. Can you help me with those cartons of wine love? I'd like to get them into the pantry."

"Sure Mum." I'm thankful for the distraction.

I follow Denise to the verandah but instead of picking a carton up, she sits down on one and gestures for me to sit on the other.

"Wha-" I ask but she cuts me off.

"Shh, love. I want to say some things. Important things. And I just want you to listen. You're clearly not a kid, so take or leave my opinions when I'm done. Ok?"

I nod and she continues, "Sasha is an ambitious fool. She left you to pursue a career that when she achieves it will be just another empty victory. I believe she already knows realises what she left behind in you."

I chew that over and don't have much to say in response.

"I-"

"Shh." She pats my knee. "Just listen... You are blind too, to what is right in front of you. You need to move along. Let me tell you a story. Has Trina shown you pictures of her mother?"

"Yes, she was beautiful."

"Inside and out, Jim. She was a lovely friend and a kind human. Her beauty came from inside her. She had these eyes... They were deepest blue. So blue that they looked purple. She loved her husband and Trina so much. One day Elmo slipped using the chaff cutter and his fingers brushed the grab. He lost the tip of his index finger and spent four days in hospital. Those four days her eyes were red with tears and blue. Blue like an empty sky. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Her eyes change colour like Trina's?"

"Uhuh. But... And this is my point; I've not seen Trina's eye's purple a single time since that horrible day she came home and cut off all her hair."

"They were purple just before... Heaps of times..."

"Yes... For you, Jim."

"Fuck."

"Yes. Now..." she pats my knee in earnest. "Now you know. I have also not seen her with her hair long since then. I have also not seen her in her 'lucky' shorts since then. Now what you do with this is up to you. You owe Sasha nothing. You owe us nothing. But that little woman is in love with you. I can't tell you her stories, but she is precious and a bit fragile, but also the strongest kid I know. We love her and if she gets hurt... We'll I don't know how we'd help put her back together again."

"Fuck."

"Do all accountants swear as much as you Jim?" She watches me with amusement. "Just fucking with you dear. Now, I don't know how you feel about her; or if you even see her that way. Please just be honest with her and careful with her heart. She's a grown woman but she's had a rough road."

"What happened to her? She showed me the boiler and the dairy."

"I can't tell you that. Just... I can say she was treated poorly by men. That's all. So, you treat her well now. You're a kind, and gentle man. I trust you."

"Thanks Mum. I think."

"And no matter what, or where or how we all end up, Blue, Tony and I are your family. Don't fuck that up either, or you'll break my heart. Am I clear? Tony loves you like his brother and if you hurt him, I'll break your arms and keep you in the old dairy as a gimp."

"Ah. Right then." I'm picturing fingers tapping on heads like in Pulp Fiction, despite the sudden gravity.

She kisses my cheeks then stands, "Fuck the wine. Never liked the stuff. Only made you go and help her to see what came of it. You're a good kid, Jim."

I draw a very deep breath. Like I need oxygen for a brain that's not quite caught up yet.

"The bridge, Jim."

"What?"

"Her place to think. She's probably gone for a walk. It's how she thinks. And her favourite place in the world is the bridge. Elmo used to take her fishing there."

"Okay?"

"Go."

"Okay..."

"And Jim?"

"Yup."

"I don't even know... Just be you. You'll figure it out."

"Haha." Its nervous, I have no idea what's going on. So, I just walk into the moonlight. Wander down the dusty track to the front gate with a giant shaggy companion that seems to think its job is to hold my hand with its mouth. I don't even know which of the two wolfhounds it is; Chewdith or Bacca? I just know that one of them wants to hold my hand in its mouth and lead me down the moonlit lane.

"Hi dickhead." I hear from the shadows. The wolfhound drops my hand and slinks into the dark.

"Gidday Kitty."

"Sorry."

"Hey?"

"For fucking with you on the couch."

"Oh. Nah, I'm sorry. It has a mind of its own. I-"

"My fault." She says swinging her legs over the side of the bridge.

"Nah I think technically, that was all on me."

"Nah, I teased."

"So where're we at? You ok?" I ask and sit beside her.

"Nah, I'm all sorts of things but not ok. We still mates, Jim?"

Putting an arm around her shoulder I pull her against my side. "Best mates Kitty."

"Good." She leans her head against me. "Messes me up every time I go to the house. It's like there's a box of memories there and when I open the door, they all come out. The good ones, the bad ones, all of them, all at once. No excuse for..."