Read Sliding Down the Sky Online
Authors: Amanda Dick
He stood there, all pumped up and exuding the kind of power that I used to love, before. For what seemed like an eternity, he stared at my arm. Then, finally, his eyes met mine.
I turned my back on him, swallowing a sob that weighed more than I expected. My broken body had been unmasked, and my dignity had taken a battering. It was a double blow that had me praying for the floor to open up and swallow me.
“I’m fine,” I choked, hoping like hell that he’d see how uncomfortable this was for me and just turn around and leave. “And you’re not supposed to be back here!”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Where’s Leo?” I snapped, hoping to scare him away.
It wasn’t working.
“He’s coming. Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah, you can get out,” I choked.
The pain was rapidly getting to the point where it was unbearable. I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears much longer, but damned if I was gonna cry in front of him. Where the hell was Leo?
“Sass, I –“
“Are you deaf? Get out! Christ, most people would’ve taken the hint by now!”
My words hung in the air between us, and the silence seemed to stretch out. I hoped that he had a brain in his head and could work out that I didn’t want him anywhere near me. I stopped breathing, listening for his retreating footsteps over the sound of my pounding heart.
“I’m not most people.”
I could feel the tears building inside me, the pain in my arm steadily building, as if it was challenging me.
A gentle hand appeared on my shoulder, but all it did was make things worse. I shook him off, barely able to think straight.
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let me help.”
The old Callum was back, the sensitive, insecure one that I met that day at the diner. But I didn’t want either version at that moment. I just wanted him to get the hell away from me before the dam burst.
“I’m fine.”
I wished like hell I could make myself sound more convincing, but at that precise moment, I couldn’t even raise my voice much above a whisper. Pain raced up and down my arm, searching for a release.
“Hey, you okay?”
Leo! Finally!
My body began to tremble all over. I felt like a child again. A child who wanted her big brother to make all of the bad stuff go away.
“Can you do me a favour and go and keep an eye on the bar?” Leo asked.
The reply was instant.
“Sure, no problem.”
I held my breath, straining to hear Callum’s retreating footsteps before I let go of the sob that had been strangling me. Leo took hold of my shoulders as I dropped to my knees, pulling my arm in closer as I sank.
“What do you need?” he asked. “What can I do?”
Nothing. He couldn’t do anything, and that made it worse.
“It hurts,” I sobbed, losing it in the safety of the store room, away from prying eyes. “It really hurts.”
He held me close, careful not to touch my arm.
“It’s okay,” he said gently, holding me tight. “It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. I wasn’t. And at that precise moment, I didn’t think it’d ever be okay again.
“There are certain songs I cannot hear because they are so personal that it hurts me to listen.”
– Amy Winehouse
Callum
As soon as I saw Sass’s arm, I knew why she looked vaguely familiar when I first met her. Her hair was different, and so was her name, but it was her alright. It was all over the news about a year ago. I remembered the headline.
Guitarist Kia Martin of rock band ‘Jaded’ has hand amputated following accident.
Jesus.
It wasn’t any wonder that I didn’t recognise her. She looked so different now. I remembered seeing footage of her performing, and she was wild. Long electric blue hair, tight black leather pants, skimpy top – she was the epitome of a rock chick. Like most of the country, I suspect, I was following their progress. They’d had a few hits and were just starting to make it big when the accident happened. I couldn’t remember the details, but I know it had come as a huge shock to the industry. Things like that just didn’t happen to celebrities. I didn’t know what had happened to the band after that, but I didn’t remember hearing anything about them in recent times.
I had a hard time reconciling that woman with the Sass I was only just getting to know. It wasn’t her hair or her name, it was her attitude. She looked frightened and anxious most of the time, like she didn’t know what to do with herself. Now, it was all starting to make sense.
When that asshole grabbed her, I saw red. What the hell was he thinking? She was clearly terrified, and all he cared about was where his next drink was going to come from. I felt sick thinking about it later.
I’d seen Dad grab my mother like that, more than once. I’d seen him do worse than just grab her, too. It felt like a million years ago some days. Other days, it felt like it had all happened just yesterday. He was an angry drunk, and so was I. I think that’s what scared the shit out of me more than anything. As much as I didn’t want to be like him, it seemed to be inevitable. There were too many similarities.
Seeing that guy grab Sass had brought it all flooding back. The look in her eye was the same look I remember seeing on my mother’s face. Fear, disbelief and helplessness. I’d told myself that if I ever saw that look again, I’d do something about it. I was just a kid then. I wasn’t strong enough, in mind or body. But now… now I could step in. I could make it stop. So I did.
Leo and I had frog-marched the guy out of the bar, and I’d punched him again, for good measure. Leo stood behind me while I did. If it had been my sister, I’d have laid into him myself, but he seemed happy enough to leave it to me. Maybe he was protecting his hands, but to me, it was worth the bruised knuckles.
I needed to see Sass, to make sure she was okay. I went to The Church the following night to talk to her. I wasn’t even sure she’d want to see me after what happened. She seemed pissed off that I woudn’t leave her alone, but I got the feeling most of that was just defensive. Ally had done the same thing, especially in the months immediately following her accident.
But when I’d walked into the bar, I realised pretty quickly that Sass wasn’t working. In fact, Leo appeared to be there on his own and the place was pretty quiet for a change.
“You running solo tonight?” I asked, sitting down at the bar.
He came over and leant on the bar, looking every inch the professional bartender with a cloth slung over his shoulder.
“Not quite – Gemma’s out the back, taking a break and getting something to eat,” he said. “First round’s on the house tonight, by the way – I owe you after last night.”
“There’s no need – really,” I insisted.
“Yeah, there is. It’s the least I can do. I don’t know if I’d have been able to handle that guy without you.”
“I’m sure you’d have been fine,” I said as he pushed a beer across the bar. “I’m assuming you barred him?”
“Damn straight.”
“Good. How’s Sass?”
He shrugged, but I could see he was still worried about her. That made two of us.
“She’ll be fine. It just shook her up a bit.”
“I bet it did.”
I should’ve punched that guy a third time, for good measure.
“I think it knocked her confidence more than anything,” he went on. “She took something for the pain when we got home, but I think it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than painkillers to fix this.”
“I could be wrong, but I got the feeling last night that everything’s still fairly… fresh,” I said carefully.
“She’s still… I don’t know. Dealing with it, I guess. It’s been a long road.”
I really felt for him. Obviously, the road hadn’t been hers to travel alone. I’d seen Ally go through a lot of stuff. When something traumatic, life-changing, happens to someone you love, it changes you, too. I wasn’t sure Ally really understood that, even now.
“I remember seeing it on the news,” I said, testing the water. “About her accident. I didn’t know it was her until last night – I mean, her name’s different, and her hair. I had no idea.”
He seemed lost for a moment, like he was thinking about what to say to simplify it into words I would understand. I got that, too. Words never really seemed to cover it, and he barely knew me. He had no idea what my history was or what Ally had been through. How was he supposed to know I’d been where he was, or is?
“Look, I know this is a small town, and this is probably big news,” he said finally. “But can I ask you a favour? Please don’t tell anyone about this. She’s just… it’s been a really tough year for her, and she’s still trying to find her feet. She just needs some space, y’know?”
“I understand,” I said immediately. “Of course.”
It was the first time I’d seen him look unsure of himself, even in the short time I’d known him. He always seemed to exude a quiet confidence, but just then he looked like he was struggling just to keep his head above water.
“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, look – it’s fine, really. I get it.”
He seemed relieved, and I couldn’t help but feel for him. Whatever had happened, it was obviously still raw, for both of them.
“It’s an art, to live with pain… mix the light into gray.”
– Eddie Vedder
Sass
I was tempted to take more painkillers so at least I’d get a decent night’s sleep. I’d taken some last night, after I’d bathed my arm and applied a series of cold compresses to it. It had given me a measure of relief, but what hurt more was my pride and there was no quick-fix for that.
After I’d put Aria to bed, I picked up the box of painkillers from my bedside table, trying to decide if I really needed them. I hadn’t worn my prosthesis all day, and the red marks on my stump looked like they were fading. The pain was down to a dull ache, but I’d sworn to myself that I’d only take medication when things were unbearable. I put the box in the drawer and closed it. I could handle this. Instead, I grabbed an elasticised compression sock and eased that onto my arm. The constant pressure would help with swelling.
I went into the living room and sat down on the couch, grabbing the remote. I planned to kill an hour or so watching mindless TV, then go to bed. It would beat tossing and turning for a couple of hours. I grabbed a throw cushion from beside me and pulled it closer, resting my forearm on it to keep it elevated. It seemed to help with the throbbing.
I was channel-surfing when the knock on the door came.
I froze. I wasn’t expecting anyone. It couldn’t be Leo or Gemma, because they had a key. It had to be someone I didn’t know. It was a bit late for those annoying door-to-door guys, though. I got up and tugged down my sleeve, just in case, as I headed for the front door. Opening it, I peered out through the crack in the door, leaving the chain on.
“Hi,” Callum said, a little sheepishly.
My automatic response was to shove my left arm behind my back. What the hell was he doing there?
“Hi,” I said, hiding behind the door.
“Can I come in?”
I thought about saying no – seriously thought about it. I fast-forwarded through the next few minutes in my head. The one word that came to mind was ‘awkward’. Reluctantly, I closed the door, took a steadying breath, and unhooked the chain. When I opened the door again, he smiled.
“Thanks. I thought maybe you’d decided to make a run for it,” he said.
My cheeks burned and I found it difficult to look at him. If I was that obvious from a distance, I didn’t want him too close.
“Come in,” I said, hiding behind the door again so we didn’t have to make eye contact.
He did, and I closed the door after him. We stood in the hallway and I locked my right hand over my left forearm, behind my back, tugging the sleeve down even further.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, finally looking up at him.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, after last night.”
I practically chased him away last night, and less than twenty-four hours later he was there, in my house. What was I supposed to do with that? This harmless flirting thing had gone beyond the pale. He was in my
house
, for God’s sake!
“I’m fine,” I said, keeping a lid on all of that, by sheer force of will. “Thanks.”
He nodded, like he didn’t believe me but he was willing to let it slide. We stood in the hallway, because I thought it might be safer that way. I didn’t want him to get too comfortable.
“I was just in the bar, talking to Leo about what happened last night. He said he barred the guy.”
“Yeah. Good,” I mumbled. “Asshole.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
He smiled, and I fought the urge to thank him for his concern, open the door and see him on his way.
“How’s your arm?” he asked, the smile dying. “He hurt you pretty badly, I could tell.”
He didn’t seem at all guided by the laws of social etiquette I’d become accustomed to since the accident. Those unspoken laws said you shouldn’t mention a person’s disability to their face. You should just take sneaky glances when you thought they weren’t watching, to satisfy your
natural curiosity
. Clearly, Callum hadn’t read these rules. I shouldn’t have been surprised that nothing scared him away, particularly after the way he handled the asshole who grabbed me. But, nevertheless, it did surprise me. It shocked me, in fact.
“You did the right thing, refusing to serve him,” he added.
I bit my lip. I couldn’t risk looking at him, so I stared at the wall over his right shoulder. My throat burned as I fought to keep my composure. It was the same thing I’d been asking myself ever since last night. Had I done the right thing? Had I brought it on myself? Should I have just served him?
“He was drunk, and you were well within your rights to refuse him. Regardless, he won’t be coming back. You don’t have to worry about him doing anything like that again.”
I nodded again, wishing he would just leave so I could retain some shred of dignity. I could feel the tears threatening to fall but I refused to blink, in case that opened the floodgates.