Never too late, p.8
Never Too Late, page 8
“D, it’s okay, don’t worry. I’m in no rush, I’m just glad you’re okay. You know I’m here if you need me though, yeah?”
“Yeah, Tyler. I’m sorry. I just need some time.” I slowly start to follow him back to the car, dragging my feet along the ground with each step I take.
“We all do, D. When you’re ready, I’m here. Come on, let’s go home, man, it’s freezing. We can go pick up a takeout on the way home, my treat.”
“Only if we can get sushi…”
“Deal.”
Chapter thirteen
Jae
“I’m suffocating without you here.”
Meeting with Idah and taking a walk to go see Lottie has become a ritual that I’ve started to become excited for.
No matter how hard I have to push down the memories I have of this place already.
Between the endless car hunting, pestering Isaac, counting down the days until Noah will be home, and planting flowers in the garden, my time isn’t taken up by much else. I was thankful when Idah mentioned how much Lottie had loved sunflowers, due to the amounts growing in the garden that I couldn’t keep under control. So, I’m happy that I’m able to offer her fresh bouquets to take to the grave whenever she’d like them. The more she talks about her, I bear witness to the sparkles in her eyes and the way her face glows in happiness. We’ve spoken about her as though she was in both of our lives, and a part of me feels like she was. I haven’t just gained her as a friend; I’ve gained Lottie too.
I wonder if she’s noticed the flowers I lay at her grave, too?
The thought of losing someone the way Idah has lost Lottie forms an uneasy feeling inside of me. My father has been the only parent in my life, and soon after I lost him, I was lucky enough to meet the guys. Not long after, I stopped being affected by my emotions as much after bearing witness to what I had, and if something bad happened, I quickly learnt that was how things went, anything could have happened to any of us at any time.
But as much as I miss the routine and busy days, becoming friends with Idah and spending time with her makes me appreciate all the more how I got out and why I got out. Even if at times I need to remind myself; it’s okay. It wasn’t the way that was planned. I made it anyway.
I survived.
Every day I spend in my small cottage feels like a blessing. I speak to the boys back at the barracks as much as I can. I might not be big on social media, but I make sure I text and call as much as possible.
But that was all up until a week ago, before the others got called out on tour again.
Being on the opposite side of war is a feeling I can’t put into words. I never thought I’d experience what this would feel like. The longing, the unknown, the uncertainty.
The feeling alone speaks louder than words.
Is this how Dax felt?
The constant need to check, feeling uneasy and always on edge, the worry that someone you care about hasn’t made it, and the guilt.
The guilt was always the worst.
Since the walks have become a regular part of my weekly routine, I’ve been able to find shortcuts to get to the graveyard quicker instead of taking the main roads. But no matter how much earlier I get to the grave, I always find her sitting, legs crossed on her blanket, in front of the headstone, writing in her notebook, ignoring the world around. That’s one thing I idolise about her, or I should say, one thing I’m jealous of. Her ability to be able to lock herself in a bubble from the outside world and switch everything around her off. It’s akin to a superpower and it’s definitely one I wish I possessed myself.
Instead of saying anything out loud, I silently take a seat beside her, waiting for her to acknowledge me, until she swiftly turns her head and offers me a smile.
That’s all I need from her to know that she’s okay.
Having my family back at the barracks gave me the need to look out for people and to make sure they’re okay. If they're not, I would more than happily go out of my way to fix that problem. I read in a book once, ‘Some say the saddest people are always the most caring because they know how it feels to feel so alone, and they don’t want anyone else to feel that way.’ While I wouldn’t personally say I am one of the saddest people, that quote spoke to me louder than most conversations I’ve ever had, and I have felt it in my bones ever since.
As I start to put the flowers against the grave in their designated pots, I hear Idah whisper a thank you as she leans her head on my shoulder. In response, I slowly move my arm around her, bringing her in closer.
I can never put into words how grateful I am for the friendship that has developed between us since we first met, but I guess that’s all down to Cee introducing us in the first place.
With the air starting to get colder, thanks to the wind coming from the sea, spending time with Lottie ends sooner than usual.
“Why don’t we go get a coffee at Cee’s? Grab a bite to eat?” she suggests.
I don’t hesitate in my reply. “Yeah. Sure. I’m not doing anything after this and I’m hungry.”
“Cool,” Idah sharply replies, leaping to stand on the ground, folding the blanket away to put inside her backpack.
Even though I have lived here for a while now, I sit and smirk to myself about how much of a recluse I have become. Or maybe it’s who I’ve always been; I just haven’t had the chance to be alone. I welcome Idah’s proposal of going to grab a bite to eat, but I don’t let her see that I’m overly excited to spend more time out of the house – I don’t want her to get used to sociable Jae too much.
Chapter fourteen
Jae
“I woke up in the middle of the night and remembered you weren’t there. It hurt. I don’t want it to hurt anymore.”
The walk to the café didn’t take too long, and it wasn’t busy, so, we were able to get a seat straight away without having to wait. Taking Idah’s bags from her while she goes and gets our drinks, I make my way over to the window seat in the corner. This is the second time I've been here, and I make a mental note that I should come here more often. The atmosphere is always welcoming as soon as you walk through the door; you notice yourself smiling and not being able to stop. The walls surrounding are anything but plain. They’re filled with photographs of whom I presume are locals, pictures of celebrities who have come into the shop, and signed notes on the walls. The walls alone, I imagine to be more like some visitors’ worst nightmare, but somehow, they offer a sense of comfort and security.
“Tea, black, two sugars. Just how you like it, psycho.” Idah’s voice comes from the side of me as she returns to the table and carefully puts down two cups and saucers onto the table. We quickly go back to our usual selves, sitting in silence and enjoying each other’s company.
“Hey, there’s a record store next door, did you see? Ocean Notes Records. Have you had a look inside? It’s cool,” Idah chirps, she asks while looking at me and not down at her notepad. That instantly implies she wants to know my answer. So, I decide to make the most of this moment, putting my phone down to stop yet another Google search to find out some information about those in Afghanistan, and I give her my full attention, engaging in the conversation.
“I haven’t. Someone I used to know often told me how he dreamt of opening a record store after he’d graduated, but we haven’t spoken in a long while. I’ve kind of made it my mission to ignore any store that sells music since. I don’t know if his dream came true or not, but I’m almost too scared of finding out for myself. I mean, I love music, who doesn’t? But I often wonder if he would be inside, even though I’m already aware that he wouldn’t be. I can’t handle it. You know? The bad memories that come along with it. The what if’s and why’s. Guess you could say I’m scared of the unknown.” I feel my shoulders starting to tense. “I’m scared of ever coming face to face with my past. So I’ve found it best to avoid it as much as I can.”
“Oh. Okay. Hey. I don’t mean to impose, but we haven’t spoken much about you. We’ve spoken a lot about me, and I think it’s only fair I listen to you for once,” she says softly. “I apologise if this is too much of a forward question, but what happened to you? I know you left your job, but what made you come here? Sorry. I know that was a lot. Ignore me.”
I smirk at the way she answers her questions.
“What? Did I say something funny?” she asks in response to my expression.
“No, no. Not at all. You remind me of someone, that’s all. My best friend Isaac. He’s not home right now. I think if you met him, you’d really like each other. You’re very similar.” That statement receives a confused look from Idah. “Don’t worry. I’m not playing Cupid. He has a wife.”
“Tell me about him and you.” She squeezes my hand. “Please.”
“Well, like I said, he’s a lot like you in some ways, completely opposite in others. I never knew my mum; she wasn’t interested. My dad brought me up on his own. He was the most important thing in my life, always making sure I had everything I needed. He was my best friend. Taught me all I know. Dad was in the army growing up. He’d left his service just before Mum left our lives, but I know deep down he wished he didn’t have to. He was the strongest man I’ve ever known. Was thankful for everything. Never took anything for granted. I always wanted to be like him – the day I lost him, I knew I needed to follow in his footsteps. I had to make him proud. So, I did. Didn’t think about it twice, didn’t need to. So that’s what I did, joined the army. Was there for ten years.”
I notice Idah’s face starting to change, witnessing her eyes becoming sadder, but I carry on. “Dad was my best friend, and I didn’t have any other siblings, so I felt lonely after he was gone. That definitely changed soon after enrolling. Isaac.” I laugh. “Fucking Isaac. I’ll always remember the first thing he ever said to me. ‘Dude, you’re pretty. Are you sure you belong here? Go get yourself a modelling career. No one’s allowed to mess up that face of yours.’ And the rest was history. We’ve been brothers ever since that moment. Did everything together, lived together, fought for our lives together. You can’t match a bond you create with a brother in the army. Unmatchable. That was all until I got discharged before I came here... medically discharged. I got wounded on tour.” I slowly lift up the side of my shirt, showing where I was shot. “Among other things. They had to let me go and I couldn’t return back. I met someone a few years ago who brought me here.” I look away, not strong enough to look at her as I say the next words. “I guess you could say he was my Lottie. The moment I first came here, I knew I needed to come back. I didn’t think twice about moving when I was cleared to leave. And here I am.”
“Here we are.” She squeezes my hand tighter, bringing her other to join. “I think things happen for a reason, Jae. You were meant to be here. I think we both were. Thank you for sharing your story. Especially when I kind of forced it out of you.” She smiles and then asks,” Your Lottie, who is he?”
“Someone I used to know,” I respond.
She gives me a quizzical look. “...Used to know. How?”
“He didn’t want to know me anymore.” The words still hurt to say out loud.
“Well, whoever he is, he’s not worth it. No one could ever not want to know you.” She speaks with conviction. “Whoever he is or wherever he is, I’d like to say thanks and fuck you, because I’m glad he led you here.”
I smile at her confession with tears in my eyes.
“Now, finish that drink because I’m hungry and we need to go grab some food. What do you fancy? I don’t live far from here; we could go to mine. Movie night?” she offers.
I nod. “Yeah, sounds good. Let’s go.”
Idah makes her way back to the table after taking the empty cups to the counter, and without warning, the power cuts out from the lights above, leaving the shop in darkness. Loud noises come one after another. My body freezes. I’m unable to take my eyes away from the window as I watch the lightning as it brightens the sky.
Her voice surrounds me, but I can’t take in what she’s saying. My brain is telling me to move, but my body refuses to do so. My heartbeat is so loud in my ears, it drowns out the sound of anything else. It’s as if I’m a bystander, watching but not helping. I can see as much as feel my body shaking uncontrollably.
Coming back from tour, you’re expected to go to therapy, especially when you’ve witnessed unspeakable things. Nothing can prepare you for what you’ll see. I’ve seen people’s limbs get blown to pieces. I’ve seen soldiers I once knew, now almost unrecognisable from their mangled faces.
And this is the first time I’ve heard thunder after being discharged, and I never realised how something natural could be so triggering at the same time.
Images of torn up buildings, explosions, and destruction cloud my vision.
I feel the pressure of my throat closing. I try to inhale, to take a deep breath, but I can’t.
I thought I was safe, I thought I got out.
I can’t go back.
No, no, no.
“Hey there, breathe with me yeah? One, two, three...” I can hear a soft voice from my side, yet it feels so far away.
The voice I haven’t heard before slowly starts speaking to me, but my eyes are closed, refusing to open no matter how many times I try. Instead, for the moment, I drown in the voice of the stranger following his instructions on breathing, repeating the numbers in my head over and over again. Seconds go by before I realise I’m rocking back and forth with my head in my hands on the ground. Idah is to my left with her arm around me, trying to soothe me by singing gently in my ear, stroking the hair on top of my head. I don’t know how long we’re in this position before I realise that I’m crying into her side as I’m holding on to her for comfort. Part of me has a feeling of guilt and embarrassment, but before I know it, I’m shaking in Idah’s arms.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Idah whispers in my ear, holding onto me so tightly. I don’t think she has any intention of letting me go.
Please don’t let me go.
I keep my head buried in her arms, focusing on my breathing as I hear a muffled thanks before the door closes. I give myself a few more moments to calm down before I feel strong enough to raise my head and take a look around me, hoping I haven’t caused a scene.
“No one else is here, don’t worry. It’s just me, you, and Cee. We both panicked, we didn’t know what to do or how to help, Jae. I was scared. You froze. You went limp. Your body just fell to the ground. I moved everything out of the way for you.” She takes in a shaky breath. “Luckily, Tyler, one of the guys who owns the record shop next door, walked in just in time. He helped us. He’s gone now, though. He had to go back to work. I’ve said thanks to him. Don’t worry, he’s a cool guy. He’s just glad he could help.”
“I think I’m going to miss movie night. I think I just need to go to bed.” My voice projects in a hoarse tone.
“If it’s okay, Jae, I’d really like to come with you? I don’t think you should be on your own right now. I’ll call a taxi later on if you don’t want me to stay, or at least let me walk you home?”
“No, it’s fine, Idah, of course you can stay. Come on, let’s go before it gets dark. Thank you, Cee, I’m sorry.”
“Never apologise for something that’s out of your control, son. You’ve always got a place here.”
All I can manage is a nod in reply to Cee before I start bursting out in tears again. I quickly hold onto the door and open it, pulling Idah to my side so we can slowly start walking towards the taxi waiting outside to take us to the house, together.
Chapter fifteen
Jae
“I think about you every day. I know I can’t tell you, but I can’t forget you either.”
I don’t remember much about last night. I think I passed out as soon as I climbed into bed, which probably explains why I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes. The last thing I can remember is Idah locking the door as soon as we’d both come inside.
Idah.
With no idea of where Idah could be in the house, or if she’s even still here, I swing my legs over the side, slowly sitting up straight.
“PTSD can trigger panic attacks, which is completely normal. It’s your mind and body’s way of reacting to trauma.” The words from the therapist I was assigned to after I came home ring in my head as I force myself to take a quick shower and get ready for the day.
I carefully take the stairs one at a time, before turning into the living room on the right. Advancing towards the sofa, I notice Idah’s feet dangling over the side of the armrest. I quietly turn away, not wanting to wake her, when I hear her voice. “Hey, soldier. Did you sleep okay? I was going to go home but I was worried you would have another panic attack in the night. I thought it was just easier for me to stay. You have a comfy sofa at least.”
Soldier.
I didn’t realise how much I’ve missed being called that.
“I’m sorry you slept on the sofa.” I wince. “I do have a spare room, you know. If you had looked, you would have been able to find it. It’s being saved for when one of the lads comes and visits, but you’re welcome to it too.”
“Hey! I’m not snooping,” she protests. “I’ve watched enough crime documentaries, thank you. What if you had something hidden in there?”
I lift a brow and smirk. “But you still came to my house?”
“Touché,” she concedes. “Well, anyway, you passed out as soon as we got through the door so I just settled with the sofa. It was comfy enough. ten out of ten experience. I do recommend it.”
I can’t stop myself from laughing at her reply – I wonder sometimes how someone who is struggling so much is able to have a smile so bright, with everything hiding behind it. It’s inspiring really. How people go on no matter what has happened in their lives. It reminds me I need to do the same.
