Reality – Chapter One

The last of my non-published samples for this week comes right from the eclectic novel, Reality. Few people have laid eyes on any part of this novel save for the small samples I put up each week. That is why I hope this excites you.

 

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Max Parker (1)

June twenty-third marked the sixth time in about three years that I had been hospitalised. The stress of it all affected mum years ago, and she became more and more distant with each passing day. She used to be full of life and care. However, when my sister, Lisa, came out to our parents, mum started drifting away. She never visited, and dad would rather get shit-faced drunk in a pub I had never heard of. Lisa, on the other hand, spent every waking moment by my bedside, catering to everything I want.

“Do you want me to leave?” she would ask.

I shook my head and she gave me that goofy smile that she knew would make me laugh. She cared for me, but I wished she would go out and have some fun and party with her girlfriends. I knew I could not persuade her; she was more stubborn than I was.

My second day in hospital was no better than my first. I watched a myriad of doctors and nurses speak to Lisa. They told her it was easier for me to stay in care rather than continue to be a burden. First, the black-haired doctor with thick glasses tried to convince her it was for the best.

“Fuck off,” were her exact words.

Morphine did not help with my memory, but it did wonders to numb the pain. I recalled little about the events of the crash that put me here, and I knew even less of the days that happened after. I remembered a bright light, followed by blackness and dim flashes of red and blue. I awoke in hospital a few days later. Lisa arrived that day. God, my face was a mess. There were twenty-eight stitches in my head along with an amalgamation of metal rods, plates, and pins around my body, struggling to hold me together. Lisa was the one to come to my side. She smiled and shook her head at me.

“You are an idiot, you know that right?” she said.

I replied that I knew I was and that she was the one who had to live with me. She laughed at that and brushed her short pink fringe from her eyes. Every time I saw her, she seemed to have different colour hair. A month prior, green was the flavour of the month, and before that, she was rainbow coloured. The sole constant of Lisa’s hair was the length of it. She never let it come past her neck and people accepted that is who she was.

“Nice hair,” I told her.

She ruffled my own brown locks. I brushed her hand aside with the hand that my IV was not in to and she dragged a chair to near, sitting in it backwards.

What a rebel, I thought to myself.

“What’s that, Max? Got somethin’ to say?”

Lisa always sounded cheery and sincere. I knew I could not hide anything from her. I found myself forced to tell her what was on my mind. She shrugged it off and adjusted her sparkling septum piercing.

“If mum saw that, she’d kill you,” I said.

“Mum can go jump off a cliff,” Lisa snarked back. She brushed more hair from her eyes. “We should get you a piercing or two.”

I laughed her off, but I knew she was serious. I had thought about getting an ear pierced. If I told Lisa, she would convince me I needed to get an eyebrow done too. Me being who I was, I would not be able to say no.

A week passed, and Lisa never once left the hospital. Even when security told her she needed to go, she would find a way to stay. I admired her tenacity and her drive to want to make sure I got healthy.

“I’ll be fine,” I told her every day.

It was the same story every day where she said I needed her, and always in her signature sarcastic tone. Then she always moved to a new subject.

“How’s school,” she asked one day.

I looked at her. “Are you serious?”

She rolled her eyes and gave me the middle finger. “Nah thought you’d like a joke. Like a ha-ha kinda joke.”

Lisa kept droning on, but I tuned out, nodding every now and again. I had heard this speech about six times at this point. It always started the same way – Lisa trying to make a joke and then she would proceed to attempt to explain why it was funny. Do not get me wrong, my sister was hilarious when she wanted to be. She did try too hard sometimes. When I tuned back in, she was blabbing on about how I am like mum and I how I did not respect her brand of humour. To be fair, Lisa used her jokes at inappropriate times.

“Hey,” Lisa raised her voice. I jumped. “You listenin’ to me?”

I nodded at her with a cheeky smile. She rolled her eyes and leaned on my hospital bed in room 134, which is in the western building on the third floor. I had spent enough time there that I knew when something changed even a little. The walls received a new coat of paint the month before I arrived and it was not because of the stickiness or smell. The graffiti mark Lisa had left was not visible anymore. Shame about that. It was one of her best works. That was saying a lot, given she did fantastic artwork. I told her many times she should do commission work, but each time I suggested it, she always said she was not good enough  and that she would end up failing like with everything else she did in life. I hated seeing her like that. It was in these moments I understand why she hated mum.

I feel I should tell you about the obsession our mother had with trying to control every facet and aspect of both Lisa’s life and mine. I did not even want to give her the pleasure of knowing I said something about her. I leave it at the fact she was a bitch. Not in the female dog sense either. I mean in the way that she would beat Lisa up for ruining her and our father’s lives at a young age. My mum fell pregnant with Lisa at sixteen, and had to drop out of school, along with her former jock boyfriend – our father. Everything was fine for the first few years. After all, this was well before my conception, according to Lisa anyway (I tried asking mum about it a few years back. I still bear the scar in my eyebrow from that day.) Mum kept trying to force her way of life onto Lisa and things between them disintegrated. Mum made the decision to enrol Lisa into gymnastics, which I know Lisa despised given how uncoordinated she was. Lisa was around seven at the time that I came into being inside mum’s womb. Mum never tried to give up trying to control Lisa. She forbade her from going on dates with men (not that my sister ever would) and even placed Lisa under a strict curfew even nearing her own sixteenth birthday. An avalanche happened that day, December 14, 2009, when Lisa rocked up with Chloe Tremayne, who mum assumed was one of her friends and announced she was moving out.

I did not recall what happened, but mum and Lisa yelled at each other for hours. Dad did not care, of course, but he would duck his head into my room to see if I needed anything. I always declined him, and I knew he was drunk by the way he propped himself up against the door and the way he slurred his words. I often felt sorry for him, but I remembered he was sticking around because he had a ‘reputation’ to keep up. I was sure his reputation died alongside his dreams of one day playing League on an international level. I had seen old photos and videos of him playing, and he was good, I do admit that much. Then he and mum got into a fight and mum managed to shatter one of his knees. I was a babe at that point. The dad I knew was the drunken one that preferred to hide behind his bottles and not give a damn about his family.

Mum and Lisa argued for what felt like an eternity. Mum didn’t like the ‘teen attitude’ Lisa was trying to force onto me. I did not remember all of what happened, but I knew that when all the barbs and insults finished, Mum opened my door and gave me the scariest look in the world. She left when I looked down. We did not mention Lisa for a month. Dad tried to do so, and mum hit him hard. He dared not call the police, though. That night he came into my room, filled with Star Trek merchandise and every single movie, episode or special ever released. We were never close, but I could tell he loved me. He sat beside me on my bed. I saw that he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. We did not say anything. He sat there next to me, gripping my hand for a lifetime. He gave me a weak smile before he kissed my forehead and headed off to bed. I knew my dad loved me.

“Oi, dingus. Wakey wakey,” Lisa’s voice rang out in my head.

I opened my eyes.

Shit, did I fall asleep?

I glanced over to my phone.

16:43. Crap. I hope I didn’t miss anything.

I grunted, groaned and stretched myself out. Lisa was at the sink. I knew the water would be scalding hot. She said it burned away the scars mum gave her. I hope she meant emotional scars because I knew of one physical impurity given to Lisa by mum and that was a thin pink line on her right bicep. Lisa told me it was an accident, though I knew better than that. I never pestered her about it. I saw the pain in her eyes every time the subject turned to our parents. The last conversation about them ended with Lisa wishing dad grew some balls and stood up for his children. We both knew dad was in the same predicament as we were. Though our reasons were different, we were all at the mercy of Leann – mum.

“Hey, guess what’s happenin’?” Lisa said through a washcloth.

I managed to sit up through my groans. My head throbbed and the morphine was wearing off. I wanted to rub my eyes, but the swelling was painful enough that it hurt to blink. I would savour every chance I had to rub them once the hospital discharged me.

“I dunno what’s happening,” I replied to Lisa.

She smiled at me over her shoulder, her hair its usual tangled mess of multi-coloured madness. The water stopped flowing and Lisa shook the excess water from her hands.

“Max. Today is the day you’ll be breathing the fresh air again,” Lisa said.

I grunted, unsure if I believed that. “Don’t bullshit me, L,” I said.

She laughed at that and reached into her handbag to glance at her phone. She put it in ‘selfie-cam’ mode and shoved it in my face. I did not recognise myself. There was an unhealthy mix of purple and blue bruises splotched over my face. The swelling consumed half of my right eye. I saw through the bloated skin at my marine coloured irises, but the one I saw was bloodshot. I sighed at the sight in front of me. Lisa put her phone away and sat down next to me.

“Hey, look at the bright side. You still look beautiful, and that swelling’ll go down. Trust me, Max,’ Lisa told me.

I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but she did not understand what I was going through. At least, I did not think she did.

“You know I trust you, right? More than I trust anyone in the outside world,” I said.

“I’m right there with you. I know what you can do.”

Lisa snapped her fingers. She did that when she got a ridiculous idea. I am still not sure if it was a tic she had or if she did it on purpose. Without hesitation, she reached over to the other side of my bed and picked up my phone. I knew she already had the code to unlock it, and within a few seconds, Facebook was open before me. Saying that word made me cringe. I knew what was waiting for me on my wall, and I did not care to see it. I tried to imagine what each person would have said, but I could not recall the personalities my classmates had. Lisa handed my phone to me. I groaned upon seeing the first response. It belonged to Lisa, of course.

u btr b gettin’ btr. Dis rm is boring. love, L.

“And that’s supposed to encourage me?” I told her.

That made her snort with glee. I admit she was right. The room lost its charm the third time I was here. I knew the configuration the nurses put the room in for me. The bed was always on the south wall and dressed with pristine blue sheets. The sheets are all a different shade on this floor. I guessed it was to distinguish them in the laundry. An empty medicine cabinet sat on the left side of the bed. The cabinet was for permanent residents like the elderly or those with terminal illnesses. A desk was on my right side. It was where I kept most of my belongings for the duration of my stay. My phone and a few books were all I needed. I had read them all over the past few days, but I did love this particular selection. Lisa had also brought me a selection of my movie and TV show collection. You would not believe how many times I had watched Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan in the years before my accident. I did not care what anyone else said; I thought it was the best of the Star Trek films. Better than those J.J Abrams reboots. Not that those were bad films, but they did not do it for me. I needed to find some way to pay back Lisa for all she did for me.

“Take a look. I promise I didn’t tell anyone to be nice,” Lisa said.

Lisa was sort of like my protector those days. She knew when something was wrong, and she would pester me until I told her, and then she would lay into the issue if it involved another person.

I rolled my eyes and began scrolling through the messages on my wall. A lot of them said the same thing or looked like copy-paste jobs. “Get well soon,” or “thinking of you,” or the occasional bible verse. The one that stood out came from David Pierce, who was not nice to me, nor was he mean. He chose to ignore me for the most part. His message was nothing too special, but he did make an effort.

I pray you get well soon, Max. ‘1 Corinthians 16:13: Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong.’ My thoughts and prayers are with you – David.

I gave a half-hearted smile when I saw that post. I clicked on reply.

It’ll take more than a few broken bones to kill me ha-ha 🙂

I sent that through. It had a dozen likes in under a minute, much to my surprise. I laughed, shook my head and continued down my wall. Lisa gathered up her things at a snail pace. It was what she did when she wanted me to take my time to do something. Something like browsing through the posts on my wall. Not many posts caught my eye. I send a few likes here and there and the occasional “thanks” to those I felt went the extra distance to try to make me feel better.

It was amazing what happened when a classmate became injured. The same thing happened when Tony Greentree went in for surgery not three months ago for appendicitis. The difference between Tony and me was I was not one with the popular crowds. I saw his name on my wall.

“get well, fool,” is all he wrote.

I knew he did not mean it in a rude way; it was who he was. Unlike my own Bogan roots, Tony came from the New York Bronx. He called every white person he saw a fool, and he was not specific as to who you were. I scrolled through a few more posts until one drew my attention. My eyes rolled.

I’ll cut you a deal; you make it through this, and I might have to take you on a date 😉

That was from Hailey Holbrook. She had a crush on me for the better part of a decade, I think. She also happened to be my best and closest friend in the world.

You might have to take me on one, Hails. Looks like I’m getting out today ha-ha ❤

I replied to her post without hesitating. That was one of the first posts made to my wall. One other precedes it. From Dad, of all people.

Love you Maxie.

I wanted to reply to Dad, but I could not find the words to say to him. I could not muster the courage to bring myself to write even a thank you to him. I felt like such a coward with that thought. Even if I could muster the courage, the little notification icon lit up. Before I even looked at it, I knew it was from Hailey. I looked up from the screen. Lisa was staring with a smug grin.

“What did you do?” I said. Lisa avoided full eye contact, and looked guiltier with each passing second. I placed my phone in my lap and narrowed my eyes as I leaned forward. “I know something is going through that wild head of yours, sis. Tell me!”

“I’ve not done anythin’, Max. Hailey did all the work, I agreed to help her,” Lisa told me with a familiar impish tone.

Why did my sister have to be such a Puck? I loved her regardless, but sometimes I thought she did things to be a pain in the ass. To hear she was working in collaboration with Hailey of all people made my spine crawl. By herself, Hailey was a handful, but to combine her with Lisa, I did not even know where to begin.

“Why?” I uttered.

Lisa did not answer me. She finished packing her bag and did something with her hair. A couple of nurses arrived at my room, complete with a wheelchair. My eyes rolled at the sight of that object.

Great, they want me to go around in that for who knows how long. I hope it won’t be for too long, I said to myself.

The nurses entered the room, and the heavier of the nurses – June, I believe her name was, began checking around the room and cleaning up. She was plain looking. Short, with medium length blonde curls and a rounded face and way too nice. June struck up a conversation with Lisa. I did not pay attention to them. The other nurse drew my attention away, not because she looked amazing but because I believed she was new. She smiled and parked the wheelchair beside the bed. I smiled back and gave a little wave. She must have thought that was funny or cute because I saw the rosy red flush through her cheeks.

“You’re cute when you blush,” I said. The nurse went redder.

“Well look at you, Max. Flirting with every pretty girl who smiles at you,” Lisa interjected herself. The nurse, Carly, lowered her head and began to disconnect all the various machines attached to me. I handed my phone off to Lisa. “Not gonna reply to Hailey, Max? I’ll do it then. Now let me see here, what should I send to her?”

I tried to take my phone back, but Lisa was already out of reach. I saw her giggle and bite her lip. Her fingers tapped away at the touchpad with lightning speed.

Jeez, she could write a damn novel if she put her mind to it, I shook my head thinking about it.

June closed the door, and helped me out of the hospital smock. I held back tears upon seeing the myriad of bruises all down the right side of my body, and the pink scars that hid the metal augmentations of my bones behind them. The most prominent was a six-inch one running up my thigh. The nurses told me that it would fade, but who knew how long that could take. June and Carly helped me into a pair of loose-fitting tracksuit pants and a loose shirt. It seemed like Lisa forgot to pack undergarments for me.

“It feels weird being in pants without underwear,” I said

“You poor thing. Boo-hoo,” Lisa could not sound more sarcastic. “Besides, the doc said it’s good if you didn’t wear anything restrictive for the next week.”

Lisa fumbled around in her bag for the keys to her ’78 Datsun (a Nissan Fairlady Z from 1978). I followed close behind, with Carly pushing my chair. I told her she did not need to, but she insisted. If I could read her mind, I might have decoded what she thought of Lisa or me. Lisa had to call attention to my unknowing flirty comment. I felt stupid for saying something like that.

“Got ‘em!” Lisa’s exclamation snaps me back to reality. “Think dad’ll mind if we stop by for a few minutes?”

I shook my head. Lisa opened the pale orange door. The creaking and groaning her car made did not seem healthy. Then again, it was in better condition than I was. I felt the midday sun bear down on me. It was a welcome relief to the harsh Australian winter.

“Not dad you need to worry about, sis,” I told Lisa.

Either she ignored that comment, or she did not give two shits what mum might think when we rocked up to grab some of my stuff. Lisa ‘offered’ to house me while I healed. Even if I said no, she still would have done it. I figure it might be good to spend time away from mum and dad. I had not spent real time with her in a long while, and I knew her and Chloe were still together; I saw the sexts on Lisa’s phone. Carly helped me to my feet, and I was shocked at how heavy I felt. Either it was the reconstructive surgery, or maybe I was that fat. I managed to duck into the front seat with a pained grunt. The leather was old and the male deodorant scent was overpowering. I knew it was a favourite because Lisa always smelled like it. Carly folded the wheelchair up and carried it to the boot. Lisa helped her manoeuvre it between what I assumed to be a pile of useless crap Lisa had yet to unpack from when she moved out and the metal frame. I pulled the seatbelt across my chest, using the My Little Pony belt-pad. That was Chloe’s doing. I rested the padding on my shoulder and clicked the belt into place. The boot slammed shut. I knew Lisa’s suspension did not work well now. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

“You let me know if there are issues, Max. All you need to do is ask, and I’ll see what I can do, okay?” Carly smiled at me

As she knelt beside the car, I got a good look at her. She was cute and had petite brown eyes, chocolate brown hair and a face that showed genuine worry about me.

Don’t forget those sweet jugs on her. Yowza! I tried to ignore that thought.

My brain was not wrong; Carly did have a sweet set of boobs on her. The deep red flush that gushed up her chest told me that she must have seen me staring. I did not see an issue with having a gander at other females.

“Yea, we’ll let you know if anything goes down. Also, send me a pic later. I like what I see,” Lisa shouted out.

I never thought I would be happy for my sister to save me from an awkward situation. Carly went full-on tomato coloured, and stepped away. I looked in the mirror to watch the hospital buildings fade away.

“Fuckin’ finally. We can have something good to eat, sis” Lisa chimed out.

On that, we agreed.