A New Life - 13. Chapter 13: Shit!

“Um ... son?”

Blake snapped opened his eyes, forcing a reluctant mind to surface and to deal with the outside world once more. The first thing it noticed was that his breathing had slowed, back to a normal pace. He felt a great deal of relief for this. It meant that his panic attack was now over.

“Err ... ya okay son?”

Obviously, the ringing in his ears had abated too. He could clearly hear that someone was talking to him and the words were even making sense. He turned towards the voice, watching as the man made his way further into the room, stepping cautiously over broken bits glass.

What had Haze called him? Joe?

“I’m okay,” Blake said, automatically. He would’ve said the same thing regardless.

He stood straighter and smoothed out his clothes reflexively, not because they were ruffled, just to give his stored tension an outlet, to give his now restless hands something to do. He may no longer be panicking, but he could still feel how tense his body was. Wound as tight as a spring. He could feel his legs in particular were aching, stiff and sore.

“Ya been in here the whole time?” the officer asked him. He sounded surprised and a little curious.

“Yeah,” Blake breathed, wondering himself just how much time had passed.

How long had that panic attack lasted? How long had the officer been standing there? He couldn’t seem to focus on these questions though, as his legs screamed for attention. Suddenly, he would’ve given the world to sit down. They felt really sore. He must have been standing for ages.

“Uh-huh ...” the officer replied, regarding him strangely for a moment from under the brim of his hat. “Well, I-ahh ... I glad ya hung ‘round son. Was hopin’ ya might be able ta help me?”

Blake gulped guiltily, feeling a trickle of anxiety begin to return. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he had a habit of looking and feeling guilty. He couldn’t seem to help it.

The officer appeared to notice this. “Nothin’ to worry about son, I’m just hopin’ to clarify a few points.”

“S-Sure, okay ...” Blake stuttered and then, because he really felt he had to, he added “... can we sit over there?” He pointed through the doorway to a bench that ran along the outside of the building. It was the nearest seating possibility he could spot. Nothing in the banquet hall was useable.

The officer nodded readily, leading them out through the wreckage of the room and over to the bench outside. Blake wasted no time in sitting himself down. His legs buckled the last few inches and he collapsed onto the bench heavily, making it creak loudly.

The police officer remained standing.

“I’m Senior Constable Bane,” he said and then he winked before adding, “Joe will do.”

“Blake ...” Blake croaked, shaking the officer’s proffered hand, but not bothering to stand up to do so.

“So Blake, I’m gonna ask ya a few questions if that’s alright?”

Blake just nodded in response to that. He did not trust his voice enough to open his mouth unless he had to.

“Thanks son. Now I am just gonna start off with the basics, so if you could just gimme ya full name, address, phone number and where abouts you work.”

Trance like and stuttering Blake managed to mumble through the answers to these questions. It wasn’t easy though. His body ached and his mind was still reeling from everything that had just happened.

On top of that, it didn’t help matters that he could see a gathering of people just over Joe’s shoulder. They were standing around the resort’s lawns and in the visitor’s car park. Quite a few of them were looking over at him and chattering amongst themselves. Tourists mostly, but some of the uniformed resort workers too. He tried to block them all out, focusing on the pavement at his feet instead, imagining he was alone.

“Ya sure, ya okay son?”

Blake snapped his attention back to the officer, realising he’d allowed his mind to wander just now.

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

“So Blake, I-er ... I noticed ya showin’ up ‘ere with Hayden.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Ya been with him all day?”

“I ... um ...”

It occurred to Blake then that he really didn’t have any idea what time it was now or how long he had spent with Haze that day. The afternoon’s shadows made it seem pretty late in the day and it did feel like an eon ago since he’d left the shop that morning.

“Since about one o’clock,” he answered slowly. He could remember that much at least. He’d been bored enough to be watching the clock up until the moment Haze had arrived.

Joe scribbled something down in the small black book he was holding.

“So did ya meet up here? At the resort?”

“No, he ...”

Blake’s voice failed him momentarily as he thought back on the moment. He’d been surprised, but happy to see Haze standing there on his doorstep. How pathetic that now seemed.

“We met at my house.”

“The address ya just gave me?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh. Ya guys had plans?”

“No ... not really.”

“He ring first?”

“No... he ... he just showed up.”

Blake visibly winced a little as he said this. It sounded so feeble to his ears now. Like admitting he was some kind of doormat. Some loser who sat around waiting for someone, anyone, to pay him some attention. Worse part was it fit too. That’s pretty much what he’d been doing. He was pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

“Uh-huh.” The officer looked up from his notebook and scratched at his greying beard using the end of his pen. “He do that a lot?”

“N-No, not really.”

“You guys mates or sumthin?”

An unpleasant stabbing sensation arose inside Blake’s chest in response to the question, bitter and painful. Maybe a few hours ago he would’ve liked to think he was ‘mates’ with Haze. Or at least getting towards something like that.

But now? Now, he had no idea. He had no idea about anything to do with Haze. Not anymore.

“We ... um ... we both work at the dive shop,” he eventually stammered, trying to be evasive while still answering the question.

The officer nodded, seeming to accept the answer. He moved on.

“So, first ya hear from Hayden today is when he just shows up at ya place at one o’clock? That right?”

“Yeah.”

“Ya notice anythin’ strange about him?”

Now there was an uncomfortable, guilty twisting sensation, adding to the wretched bitterness and self-loathing already poisoning him from the inside. He recalled that moment clearly. The wild-eyed boy on his doorstep. Sweaty and out of breath. Rushing to be on his way. Acting with a sense of urgency about everything.

“N-No. Nothing unusual.”

“Uh-huh.”

Another scribbled note.

“So ya stayed at ya place all arvo?”

“No, he took me out ... um ... we went out on the ATV.”

“On a Bay Adventures Tour?” Joe asked, his voice raising an octave and one eyebrow arching sceptically.

“No, we just ...”

For a moment Blake was going to say that they had just ‘borrowed’ an ATV, but then he thought better of it. For all he knew Haze had stolen it.

“It was just the two of us.”

“Uh-huh. This Hayden’s idea?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Uh-huh. Where’d ya boys go?”

“To ...”

To Haze’s ‘special spot’, Blake recalled, but then he cynically quashed that thought. Haze had probably made that up too. Fuck knows where they really went.

“Just for a ride, out in the desert. Nowhere special.”

“Uh-huh.”

Another scribbled note.

“Did Hayden say why he wanted ta go out on the ATVs?”

“N-No.”

Blake felt another gut wrenching stab at the memory, the bitterness and hurt in danger of overwhelming him now. He had to bite down on his tongue to stop anything from showing on his face.

Truth was he had no fucking idea why Haze wanted to go anywhere with him. He had hoped that maybe ... After that moment on the bike ... Haze’s touch on his cheek ... That look he gave ... Maybe Haze wanted ...

But then that was just his messed up mind playing tricks on him.

Why did Haze want to go out on the ATV?

Fuck knows.

Why did Haze ask him to come along?

Probably because he knew he was the only person in town pathetic enough to go with him and not even ask why. Probably because Blake was an idiot and Haze was happy to take advantage of an idiot.

“Uh-huh. Did he say why he wanted ya to come along?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“Didn’t ya ask him?”

“No.”

No, he hadn’t even asked Haze. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about why Haze was there, it’s just that he hadn’t cared why. He’d been so thrilled to be spending time with Haze that he hadn’t even dared ask, just in case his asking would changed the other boy’s mind. How pathetic can one person get?

The hurt and bitterness was now mixed with a deep sense of shame and humiliation. It was a becoming more and more of a struggle to contain these emotions, to not let anything show.

“Uh-huh.”

Another scribbled note.

“Did he mention anythin ‘bout where he’d come from, what he was doin before he came over?”

“No.”

“Did he mention any problems at home? Family problems maybe?”

Blake’s curiosity was momentarily piqued, enough for him to ponder on that for a full second or two. But in all truth Haze had said nothing and Blake had no idea what was going on inside that boy’s head. Haze was a closed book and it really hit home to Blake then, just how little Haze talked about himself.

Blake had no idea who Haze even was. Just some guy from work. Some guy he found hot. Hot enough that he acted blind and fucking stupid around him.

“No. Nothing.”

Constable Joe Bane looked up from his note book for a moment, a contemplative look crossing his rugged, lined face.

“How long ya been in town Blake?”

“About two weeks?”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, drawing out the vowel this time as if Blake’s response was the most significant piece of evidence he’d heard so far. He promptly folded up his book and smiled.

“Well, thanks for ya help son.”

As he said this, he handed over a white card with a blue police emblem in one corner.

“Gimma a call if ya think of anythin’ else, okay?”

“S-Sure ... okay.”

Black quickly took the card, relieved that the ordeal was over now. Just in time too. He had no idea how much longer he could keep the repugnant, bitter black feelings at bay. The hurt and the anger and the shame and the self-loathing swirled around inside him, eating away. He needed to go home, to be alone. He had to sort through this. Practice his techniques. Preferably, before he lost control and panicked again.

However, as the officer turned away, Blake noticed he was heading for a white 4-door ute with blue markings on the bonnet. Leaning against the front door was another constable, a woman, and in the back of the ute was Haze.

“Is Haz ... um is Hayden gonna be alright?” he found himself asking aloud, before he thought about whether it was a good idea to ask, whether he even cared about the answer.

The officer turned back, regarding Blake with a stern, but kindly expression.

“He’s in a bitta trouble Blake. But he’ll be okay.”

Blake nodded, looking at his feet and feeling embarrassed and even more stupid for asking.

“Oh, one more thing,” Joe said, turning back himself this time. “Ya dunno where Penelope Herrington is do ya? Folks round ‘ere can’t seem to track her down.”

“N-No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Uh-huh. Well ... if ya do see her, tell’a to gimme a call.”

Blake just nodded, but in truth he had already forgotten about the request by the time Joe had reached his colleague and the two of them had climbed into the ute.

He watched Haze just sitting there in the back seat, staring at the headrest in front of him. Haze was so still that he looked like a wax statute. His expression was blank, detached. Like some super, spaced-out version of even his most introverted version.

Blake felt a flutter of something else now. An irregular heart beat mixing in with all of the other powerful emotions running rampant inside. He felt hurt, more upset than angry, but overall he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling, or why. His head was still reeling from everything that had happened and his body was aching. But it was these feelings that disturbed him the most. So much inner conflict. He didn’t know what to make of them. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Haze, but as soon as his mind arrived at this he felt furious at himself. He felt stupid and pathetic.

The sound of the ute’s tyres on the gravel driveway dragged him from his reverie though and as he watched the vehicle leave he was suddenly hit by a wave of exhaustion. He felt a deep need to be home, to be alone. He could puzzle over all of this later.

With no small amount of effort he hauled himself up from the bench and over towards the front lawns of the resort. However, there he stopped, glancing upwards to see the throng of people gathered around on the grass and in the visitor’s car park. Suddenly, they all seemed to be watching him, whispering suspiciously.

Feeling even more uncomfortable than he already was, he quickly about-faced and headed back to the rear car park, behind the hall. He remembered the short cut through the resort to the back street. It would get him home faster anyway.

As he took long angry strides down the dusty driveway and past the utility buildings he kicked at rocks and grumbled to himself.

So much for his superior legal mind, he thought bitterly. So much for his supposed powers of deduction. He had failed to foresee this, failed comprehensively to figure out Haze in general actually.

Did he even know one thing about the young man with the alluring blue eyes? One true thing about him?

Like, for example, was Haze really a quiet person? A loner? Was that even true? Did Haze really keep away from other people?

Or was it the case that other people kept away from Haze?

Blake thought back on all the times Haze had seemed to melt away when other people were about. How he never really joined in on the group discussions, took a back seat during any group activity. He disappeared immediately after finishing work every day and never once seemed to socialise with anyone.

Was that just the kind of person Haze was? Or was it that no one wanted to include him? Were they disapproving ... or worse, afraid of him?

Stupid, he cursed at himself. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The reality was, ‘sexy to look’ at was about all Blake really knew about Haze. It was all he had ever known. He had failed to figure Haze out for the same classic reason most of his clients used to fail to win their legal disputes. Because they allowed emotions to cloud good judgement. Because they made up a story to fit the facts instead of using the facts to figure out the story.

That’s exactly what he had done with Haze. He had found the young man infatuating and had then written a story about what a wonderful person he was, when actually he knew nothing about him. He’d created a narrative based on what he wanted to be true, not on what was true. Some sexy, fantasy, dream-boy. He’d even imagined this fantasy was ... on the bikes ... maybe ... interested ...

Stupid. Idiot. Failure. Loser. Freak.

***

Blake had spent the late afternoon and early evening practising his psych exercises. His body had responded well, so he was at least feeling a little calmer now, less tense. However, his mind was another matter.

He was obsessing, he knew he was, but he just couldn’t seem to break free from the cycle of thoughts. He couldn’t keep his mind off Haze and whenever he pictured him he felt that overwhelming tangle of unpleasant emotions gnawing away inside.

He tried to busy himself with routine. Cooking dinner, cleaning up, but none of that could stop these thoughts or feelings.

However, at some stage he began to discern at least a partial solution. A way to feel a little bit ‘better’. He started to get angry.

Sick of feeling stupid and upset and hurt and weak, he felt angry instead. Angry was better. It made him feel strong, powerful. Maybe not happy, but better than feeling weak, better than feeling hurt, better than feeling stupid.

He began to pace around his home, expression darkening as his obsessive mind latched onto this new clarity of emotion. With renewed focus, other things began to occur to him now too.

For one thing, Haze had tricked him. He could see that now. He’d kept secrets from him. He’d basically lied to him.

Blake thought back to all of the times Haze had asked if he was making Blake feel ‘nervous’. Now things made more sense. Haze wasn’t really concerned. What he was really asking was: ‘Has anyone told you I’m crazy yet? No? Good.’

And it wasn’t just Haze who was lying to him either. The others had lied as well.

Jill had said Haze was a ‘good bloke’.

Yeah right, Blake scoffed to himself. ‘Good bloke’ except when he’s being handcuffed by the local police for criminal behaviour. Handcuffed ‘again’ for criminal behaviour, incidentally.

And Nats too! Nats had said that all the girls were wild for Haze. But she seemed to have skipped the bit about that only applying when Haze wasn’t violently destroying property with a fire axe.

Blake muttered these things to himself as he paced back and forth. He imagined what he would say to them all next time he saw them. How he would berate them, telling them off for their lies, for their trickery.

He then yanked open the fridge door, to get a glass of water, but instead he cursed aloud when he noticed that there was no milk for breakfast tomorrow.

Typical, he fumed to himself. He was supposed to pick some up after work, but since he was sent home early, he’d forgotten.

Grabbing his wallet and keys he stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him, harder than was necessary. He stomped down the darkened street, cursing as he kicked at the sand beneath his feet. Every minute he was getting angrier, more frustrated.

He strode into the supermarket, walking past the checkout where two women stood gossiping. He couldn’t hear them clearly, but with comments like ‘total mess’ and ‘violent menace’ he had a pretty good idea what they were talking about.

It did nothing to improve his mood.

He tried to ignore them, grabbing a bottle of milk from the fridge at the back and roughly shoving the door closed again with his elbow. When he abruptly spun around, two other customers, down the aisle from him, suddenly looked the other way. He could tell they had been looking at him, talking about him.

Well, fuck ‘em, he thought and then he smiled at that. It was good not to feel anxious about them staring.

Angry really was better.

Or at least better for a while.

Soon he was back home again, buzzing with energy. He was nowhere near ready to sleep despite the weariness of his body. The walk to the shops and the pacing around had worked up his heart rate again. He’d undone all of the calming exercises from earlier and now, notwithstanding the anger, his natural anxiety began oozing back too. He could even feel low level amounts of panic begin to set in.

Worse, all the bad feelings from before were coming back as well. He still felt hurt, betrayed, stupid, upset. But also angry. Downright angry and he latched onto that last one instead, to keep the rest at bay.

At some point during his rabid pacing around the room he decided it was all Nats’s fault.

She was supposed to be his friend. The one filling him in on the town and all its goings on. She had let him down on this one. Kept secrets from him. Basically lied to him, just like Haze had done.

Blake decided to go find her then.

Why not?

There was no way he could sleep and he was sure he knew where she would be. Hanging out at the bar like the alcoholic bimbo she was.

Focused, angry, he uncharacteristically forgot to worry about what he looked like. He just stalked out of the house over to the bar as he was.

The night air was still, humid and sticky. It made his already smelly, damp t-shirt even worse. He felt uncomfortable and sweaty, but he made use of this. Used it to feed his anger, to make himself even angrier.

The Kulibari Billabong was packed that night, which he supposed could be expected for a Saturday night. Tourists in singlets and Hawaiian shirts, milled around the outdoor furniture and pool tables. The inside portion of the bar was worse, packed in shoulder to shoulder. Everyone was drinking beer and laughing and generally making for a rowdy crowd.

It amounted to precisely the sort of circumstances that would normally set off Blake’s anxiety, but right now he was okay. He could feel the anger sustaining him. It gave his weary body strength, his weary mind purpose.

He scanned the crowds and before long he spied Nats standing near one of the outdoor bar tables. She was wearing a pink shirt and some cut-off jeans and her face was red with laughter and excitement. He made his way over, weaving and pushing his way past the other patrons until he was standing there right in front of her, glaring.

“Blake!” she squealed excitedly, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into a hug, which he did not return.

“Ronnie, Becky, this is the guy I’ve been tellin’ ya about all week!”

Blake gave the other girls a cursory nod and a smile that was in danger of looking more like a snarl.

“Hi,” he said flatly, unimpressed at the tipsy, giggling women. He had no patience for them.

“Come have a drink with us! I wanna-”

“Can I talk with you for a minute?” he asked, loudly and abruptly cutting her short. The bar was noisy, but in the open air it wasn’t difficult to hear properly. He was being rude.

Nats gave him a funny look, but her gregarious smile didn’t slip. “Um alright, shoot,” she said, turning to smile and shrug at her friends.

“I meant in private,” Blake replied, frustrated. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

The other girls pulled faces at each other and gave a chorus of ‘ooos’.

“Shut up!” Nats giggled at them.

“We’re ... um ... kinda having a drink ...” she started to tell him, but then she trailed off when she saw the serious look he was giving her. “But I suppose ... sure.”

He led her away from the noise and the people and over to a darker lit area of the resorts’ front lawn, just before it reached the beach. The bar was still within sight, but the open expanse of grass, sand and ocean swallowed up the sounds. The moon loomed large just over the horizon, casting a shimmering reflection on the water and granting them just enough light to see.

Once the din of the bar had sufficiently faded and Blake felt there was enough privacy, he rounded on her, abruptly.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Haze?” he snapped, relishing in the release, the anger, the indignity he felt towards Nats.

“Huh?” she asked him, looking a little bewildered. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Haze!” he exclaimed, and then when she didn’t say anything he added, “he, went nuts with an axe?”

He pointed to the building towards the back of the resort to emphasise his point, but Nats only furrowed her brow at him. “That was only this arvo and I’m only just seein’ ya now? When was I supposed to tell ya ‘bout that?”

The merriment had left her voice and she too was beginning to sound annoyed.

“You know what I mean,” he fumed at her. “This is not the first time, why didn’t you tell me?”

Nats narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips, parting her shirt slightly around the cleavage.

“Why didn’t I tell ya what?”

There was a dangerous edge to her voice, a fire to her eyes, but he chose to ignore it.

“You know what, you lied to me!”

“Excuse me?” she exclaimed, voice rising to a shrill.

She was clearly losing her own temper now, but he pressed on.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Haze?”

“Why didn’t I gossip to ya about a friend of mine’s personal problems?” She paused glaring at him as if to underscore her point. “Why didn’t I tell you, the guy I’ve known for ... what, two weeks? Why didn’t I tell you secrets about a guy I have been friends with for years, who I work with and see every day? Who you work with and see every day. Why didn’t I spread rumours at work about a long time friend’s personal problems? Is that the question? Is that really the question Blake?”

Blake felt himself shrink a little as she ranted at him. His anger was still flaring, but now he wasn’t sure where to direct it.

Nats didn’t pause for long when she spied his hesitant reaction.

“A friend who, in addition ta being my friend and work colleague, has a mother who is the richest, meanest, toughest women in town? Who ... just by the way ... owns the shop that gives me my job. Why didn’t I tell ya that guy’s personal secrets?”

Blake said nothing, but he held his glare at her. He was too stubborn to give ground, but he could feel himself losing it all the same.

“And lie to you? How the fuck is not gossiping about a friend’s personal problems lying?”

“You did lie!” Blake remembered one of his arguments now and he seized upon it feeling triumphant and vindicated. “You told me he was ... like ... the most eligible man in town. All the girls wanted him you said!”

“I said no such thing,” she snapped, dismissing him with a furious wave of her hand. “Yeah I said girls flirt with him and they do! Are ya that thick about girls Blake that ya never heard of the bad-boy appeal? Anyway, what the fuck has his sex appeal got to do with anythin? Why do ya care who fancies Haze? What the fuck is your problem?”

“You coulda told me,” Blake said, but his voice broke a little and he could feel it was losing authority now. The anger was abating and he was left with just the familiar nerves, the familiar stuttering.

And then worse, those other feelings were coming back too. Upset, hurt, embarrassed.

“Yeah maybe I coulda done that Blake? Maybe on one of the many nights when ya said ‘yes’ when I asked ya out to drinks with me to meet my actual friends. Yeah, maybe on one of those many, many occasions we spend – outside of work – I could’ve told you.” Thick sarcasm laced her lashing tongue.

“But ... I,” he stumbled, but fell silent, feeling thoroughly humiliated and admonished.

She was right. He hadn’t gone to drinks with her once since that first night, despite her asking almost every day. He’d barely even noticed her asking. Instead, just dismissing the invitation out of hand. Too caught up in his own problems to think about spending time with her, to think about spending time developing their friendship. Even on that first night he’d only stayed about fifteen minutes and only because he was hoping Haze would show up.

“After all ...” she then added, seeming to get a second wind when he failed to come up with anything else. “You share sooooo many of ya secrets with me don’t-cha? You never lie to me about why ya act like a spaced-out zombie one day or a flighty nervous wreck the next.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I-I Just ...”

“Ya what Blake?” she snapped, cutting him off. “Ya pissed about not bein’ up to date on gossip?”

“N-No ... it’s not ... I mean ...”

“Ya think Haze was gonna hurt ya? Ya think he’d be workin’ there if he was some kinda psycho?”

“No ... I-I didn’t think any of that.”

“Well what then Blake? Why are ya so pissed about this? And why are ya pissed at me?!”

“I-I ... it doesn’t matter,” he trailed off, suddenly unable to explain it to himself, let alone to anyone else. “You are right, I’m sorry. I am really sorry.”

He held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture and started backing away. Guilt and shame overwhelming him. He needed to leave. Now.

“Oh, sure, there ya go again, keepin’ ya little secrets,” she mocked, sardonically. “Ya can’t even tell me why ya dragged me away from my friends to yell at me for no fuckin’ reason?”

Blake stared at his feet, feeling thoroughly guilty and confused. On top of everything else, the shame, the hurt, the poisonous feelings inside, it was becoming too much. He couldn’t hold himself together. He needed to get away.

“I-I ... I ... don’t know ... I don’t know why I was angry. I’m sorry.”

He glanced up to see if she would accept this, but she was only narrowing her eyes at him and he knew he had to do better. Unable to stand anymore, he reached out with one hand and sat down where he was, unsteadily.

“I just feel ... so ... stupid,” he said, much more softly, picking distractedly at blades of grass between his crossed legs. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, so he faced the black water instead.

Nats took a deep breath and released a loud, frustrated-sounding growl. There was a ruffling sound of clothes and for a moment he didn’t know what she was doing, but then he felt her move closer, eventually sitting down next to him.

“Why stupid?” she asked him, her voice was softer now too, but she still sounded quite annoyed.

“I dunno ... I feel ...” he racked his brains for an answer, a way to explain it. “I feel tricked. I just feel ... like ... there was this big secret in town and no one else told me and I was the butt of some in-joke.”

“No one’s makin’ fun of ya Blake.”

“I can see them gossiping and staring at me,” he said, raising his voice a little.

Nats sighed. She leaned forward, head sideways until she was in his peripheral vision and then she rolled her eyes at him.

“Look, it’s bound to be the talk of the town for a while mate.” The humour had returned to her voice, he was relieved to notice. “This is a small outback town. Haze smashin up his mum’s Christmas party is the most excitin’ thing ta happen for ages.”

She sniggered a bit then and knocked her knee against his, but he wasn’t in the mood to joke with her, so he said nothing.

“I hear you guys were hangin’ out today?”

He nodded his head at her, unable to trust his voice not to quiver with emotion.

“So people are gonna gossip a bit, so what? Eventually it will get around that it had nothin’ to do with ya. I already heard the waiters say he was by himself. Being the new guy ‘round here Blake, people are curious aboutchya. But they’ll get over it. Ya gotta give it more than a few hours to die down.”

He nodded again, desperately trying to hold the tears back. He could feel them trying to escape, but he was determined not to cry, not in front of Nats.

“Ya know,” she said, filling the silence. “When I first got ‘ere, this guy started flirtin’ with me, but he was datin’ someone else.” She seemed to drift off a bit as she recalled the story. “I had no idea, I swear, but people were feral toward me all the same. For months.

“But the thing ya gotta know about a small town Blake is that while everyone ends up findin’ out about everyone’s business, that means the good as well as the bad.”

He looked up and over towards her, curious about what she’d just said. He hadn’t thought about it like that before. He had always thought ‘privacy’ meant people not finding out about your secrets, the bad stuff.

She continued. “Over time people get a pretty good picture of who ya are. In my case, eventually they saw I wasn’t some boyfriend stealin’ hussy and the gossip went away.”

She smiled at him and he felt himself fall back from the brink of tears. Calm and control was returning to him, the edgy feeling was fading.

She reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his knee.

“Ya just gotta hold on mate. It’ll blow over.”

“Yeah,” he said aloud, not sure if he was saying it to her or to himself.

He began to feel a little better, but then he thought about Haze and all the other emotions came flooding back. It wasn’t just about being the subject of gossip. There was more than that.

So, he asked her the burning question that had been killing him all afternoon.

“Why?” he croaked softly. “Why did he do it?”

“Oh so now you want me to gossip?”

He quickly lowered his head, admonished, but she was only joking and nudged him with her shoulder to lighten the mood.

“Look mate, I am not gonna tell ya about Haze’s private affairs. It ain’t really any of ya business, and I don’t really know anyway,” she paused for a moment, keeping him in suspense, but then she continued. “But I’ll tell ya what you’d hear ‘round town from others.

“Couple of the resort workers saw it happen and called the police. Said he was crazy, runnin’ around the room with an axe, shoutin’ and breakin’ shit. Kate said she saw you two coming back from a day out on the ATVs. She thought he was tryin’ to make an alibi, but I hear others say he confessed straight away. That’s the story that’s going round, but they dunno why he did it. I dunno why he did it either.”

Blake nodded, pausing for a moment before turning to face her and asking, hesitantly, “... and the other times?”

She regarded him coyly for a few seconds, pursing her lips.

“I know ya might find this hard to believe Blake, but actually I am a pretty good secret keeper. Not sayin’ I don’t chatter – I’d talk to anyone about anythin’ – but its one thing to gossip about gossip and another thing to gossip about things people confide in ya. Ya know?”

He nodded, ashamed at how he had misjudged her so badly. Thinking back she had never really said anything important regarding other people she talked about. She was just so forthcoming with her chatter that he had assumed she was a blabber-mouth.

“But anyway, since ya gonna hear it from someone I’ll tell ya this much. This ain’t the first time Haze has been the subject of gossip. He’s been in trouble before. Nuthin’ so spectacular, but other acts of destruction ... Never hurt anyone but,” she stressed this last point, pausing before moving on again. “Just seems to have a bit of a temper. Shit, if I had a mother like his I’d probably go nuts sometimes too.”

He let out a snort that was just shy of a laugh. It soon faded though, as he started to wonder about Haze.

“Do you think he’s gonna be alright?” he asked in a small worried voice.

She raised an eyebrow at that, scrutinising him carefully.

“Ya really worried about him huh?” she asked.

He quickly dropped his eyes to his lap and flushed with embarrassment. He wanted to deny it, terrified she might figure out he had a crush on Haze, but he couldn’t seem to form the words.

“Oh ...” she said, as if she’d just figured something out. “I get why you feel stupid now.”

His stomach lurched nauseously with fear and with dread.

“Ya thought he was hanging out with ya this arvo as friends and now ya think he was just using ya to hide?

“Cause no one else would wanna go with him because behind ya back we all think he’s a bad guy?”

Wondrous relief flooded through every inch of his body. Nats hadn’t figured out he was gay. Phew.

But then something else.

A dawning realisation that she was also right. A huge part of the confused tangle of emotions he’d been feeling was about just that. He’d felt stupid. He’d felt used. The fact that he’d been so pleased about Haze’s attention reinforced those feelings. He’d then felt pathetic and weak on top of stupid and used.

“Yeah ... I guess ...” he said, sheepishly.

“Look, Blake, I dunno why Haze asked to hang out with ya, but it’s fair to say that while he doesn’t have all that many friends, the main reason for that is because he’s a loner. Keeps away from everyone and doesn’t ask do stuff with people. Kinda like you actually,” she added, before worriedly checking to see that he wasn’t offended by that.

He lowered his head a little, but rolled his eyes to let her know he wasn’t upset, so she continued.

“Anyway, I don’t think he was usin’ ya just because he didn’t tell ya about his past run-ins with the law. That’s his business. As for why he didn’t tell ya about this mornin’, I dunno, maybe he didn’t want ya gettin’ into trouble too?”

Blake nodded, slowly at first, but then more vigorously. He hadn’t really thought about it like that before, but it seemed reasonable now.

“Yeah ... I hope ... I hope he’s okay ...”

“I dunno,” she answered, sounding a little sad herself. “But he only wrecked his mum’s stuff. That’s gotta count for sumthin? She won’t wanna press charges. Not for his sakes mind you, just to try to keep it under wraps for her precious reputation.”

“Yeah ... but ... it’s not up to her. The police decide whether to press charges.”

“Maybe, but you ain’t seen Mrs Herrington at work. She' got him outta trouble so far. And I’ll tell ya something else too.” She leaned over, conspiratorially. “Those workers, who called the police? Foreign workers on temporary visas. Mrs Herrington sponsors most of them and I’m sure she can get them to see things her way. That’s what she usually does.”

Blake took all of this is in, analysing it, considering it.

Although he had studied criminal law in first year university, the fact was he was not a criminal lawyer. He’d worked as a corporate lawyer doing mostly commercial matters.

However, he knew enough to know that the police retained a huge amount of discretion to press charges. They were generally unwilling to prosecute low range offences without the assistance of the ‘victim’, in this case Penelope or her business or the employees. If the witnesses refused to give evidence, they could always be subpoenaed, but that takes effort and state resources and reduces the likelihood of a conviction.

Haze’s mother just might be able to make this go away.

“Yeah ... I hope so,” he said, perking up a bit.

He smiled at her broadly and she smiled back.

“Come have a drink with us?” she asked.

She then stood up and offered her hand.

“I-I’d rather not,” he said, feeling guilty at her disappointed frown.

“You know Blake, ya can’t expect people to tell you stuff when ya don’t tell anyone anythin’ about yourself. People like to talk to people they think are talkin’ back to them.”

Blake nodded and then he replied. “Honestly? I really don’t like being around alcohol. It doesn’t have the greatest effect on me and I don’t like the pressure to drink. I can handle one beer, but at bars like that people always force them down your throat. I don’t really like the crowds either.”

A thoughtful look came over Nats’s face, followed by another small smile.

“Now that’s what I am talkin’ about. All I want is for ya to meet my friends. Okay, so no alcohol and no crowds. Let’s go to one of the restaurants. We can eat there then. Quiet, only one beer.”

Blake smiled. “Yeah, okay that’d be good. I’d really liked to hang out with you more. Meet your friends.” He hauled himself up and found that he was smiling and calm. “Thanks Nats ... I ... thanks for talking to me. I feel so much better now.”

“That’s alright.” She smiled back at him.

“And I’m really sorry for yelling at you and saying all that horrible stuff and for dragging you away from your friends and–”

“Dun worry about it!” she exclaimed, interrupting his rambling. “It’s cool. We all get pissy now and then.”

He lowered his eyes, feeling a little embarrassed, but then raised his head again and beamed at her. He really did feel enormously grateful. No amount of psych-techniques that afternoon had managed to quieten the horrible thoughts and feelings consuming him. Yet half-an-hour or so chatting with Nats had done all that and more. She’d been worth more than a full session of therapy with his old psych.

He still felt a little raw over Haze, a little anxious about what would come next. Yet somehow things seemed resolved, if only emotionally. He felt calmer, more at peace.

Incredibly, after kicking himself all afternoon for creating a narrative about Haze instead of getting the facts straight, he’d then gone and done the same again, but in reverse. He’d made Haze out to be some deceitful, lying monster, when he didn’t know the facts enough to conclude that either.

He still didn’t know much about Haze, but he felt more determined than ever to find out.

“Watcha thinkin?” Nats asked him softly.

He glanced up, having drifted off into thought for a moment. “Nothing really.”

He then gave her a huge smile, putting in all the warmth and gratitude he could muster into it, to show how much affection he was feeling for her just now. “I’m just really glad you’re here.”

That’s when everything went wrong.

In response, she leaned over and kissed him.

She was close and so quick that he hadn’t reacted at all. He just stood there frozen, the soft moist sensations still dancing across his lips.

Anxiety rose from zero to maximum almost instantaneously.

Shit.

She gave him a hesitant look, querying him with her brown eyes. Then, she leaned in again, slower this time.

“I-I have to go,” he said abruptly, raising a hand to push her away, but she immediately backed off herself.

He couldn’t see all that much in the moonlight, but he could see enough of her face to tell she was embarrassed.

“Err ... I ... um ...” he couldn’t find any words that seemed appropriate. Anxiety held a choking lock around his throat.

“Yeah, sure,” she said quickly, dismissively. Then she turned away from him and walking hurriedly back towards the bar. “See ya later,” she said over her shoulder, with mock cheer.

She was practically running now, but Blake just stood there, glued to the floor. He was torn between chasing after her and running the other way. He didn’t want to encourage her so chasing after her seemed wrong, but running away seemed wrong too.

Before he could unfreeze his body or mind she was gone, intermingling with the crowd until she vanished.

Shit.

Shit!

***

It was late and Blake was almost at his front doorstep before he decided that he’d made a terrible mistake. He shouldn’t have run off. He shouldn’t have left Nats, not like that.

He had to go back.

The idea of walking all that way seemed daunting. Every part of his body was now feeling sore from the afternoon’s rough and bumpy ATV ride. On top of that a deep sense of weariness had set in, making it difficult to concentrate. He found himself squinting at times to keep the lids of eyes from dragging across tired, sore eyeballs, bloodshot and watery. His clothes felt putrid and sticky, damp from sweat and from the humidity of the summer night’s air.

Yet he knew he would not be able to sleep, not like this. Not with this terrible anxious feeling coursing through him. The sick guilty lurch rising from the pit of his stomach every time he thought about just how badly he’d managed to fuck things up with Nats.

So, he turned around and began to make his way back to the bar once more. Taking slow and sometimes unsteady steps he felt a warmth in his joints and muscles overtake the soreness, the aching. He was past exhausted now and in this state it seemed like he could walk forever.

He’d taken the long route home, all the way around the bay. It would’ve been much quicker to take the short cut through to the back of the resort, but that had led past the bar, past Nats.

However, as he made his way back now, he set off towards the rear entrance, knowing it would take less than a third of the time and not having the energy to make the longer trip again.

Along the dark and dusty street he stumbled, down the dirt driveway, past the utility buildings and into the rear car park of the resort.

His head ached as his mind went round in circles, trying to figure out what he was going to say to her. He didn’t want to tell anyone he was gay, but he couldn’t really see another option now.

If he didn’t tell her, he would risk ruining their friendship. She would walk away thinking he didn’t like her, that she wasn’t attractive, that something was wrong with her. He didn’t want to be the cause of those kinds of feelings in another person, especially someone like Nats.

She was a really decent person and had been a good friend to him. On top of that she was right about what she had said before. He did have to start confiding in people more if he wanted to build better friendships. Nats had proven herself. She wouldn’t tell anyone. She’d be okay with it.

He hoped.

However, once he saw her there with her friends, he changed his mind again.

What a difference being so angry before had made, he thought to himself. The idea of walking over to her now seemed absurd, impossible. The crowd had thinned a little, since it was getting quiet late, but the noise and people still made it far too intimidating for him. His breathing quickened at just the thought of having to mingle with that crowd.

Or was he just being a coward? Making up excuses?

Over analysing and over complicating everything was a Blake speciality and so he decided to lurk in the shadows of the resort and watch from a distance. If she seemed upset, he would go to her and smooth things over with her, if she seemed festive and happy, he could go back home and sleep easily, knowing she was alright.

It seemed like an entirely reasonable plan to his exhausted, confused brain and so he edged forward along the side of the banquet hall and tried to watch while keeping out of site. He moved until he reached the corner of the building. He could see her, but only just. He had no idea whether she was happy or sad from this distance. He couldn’t even tell if she was facing him.

Then he realised he wasn’t even looking at Nats. Just some other girl in a pink shirt. He scanned the crowd again, but couldn’t find her. Maybe she’d gone home?

He closed his eyes tight for a moment and then shook his head to try to clear his bleary vision, but it was no good. He couldn’t see anything from here. He needed to get closer. Maybe he could walk around to the other side of the building?

Trying not to look too suspicious, he backed away and followed the wall the other direction until he was back in the rear car park of the resort. He reached the banquet hall, but then stopped when he noticed Haze’s ute parked out front. It was still there, the only car left in the staff parking area.

Seeing it made him think of Haze and reminded him of that terrible tangle of confused emotions. Except, now it was different. Talking it out with Nats had untangled some of those feelings and now for the most part, all he felt was sad. A kind of melancholy longing.

Without really thinking much about what he was doing or why, he dragged his feet across the gravel of the car park and over to the ute. He then circled it slowly, hand tracing its way along the weather-beaten mould, across patchy paintwork and rust-coloured dents. It was such a beat up looking old thing, such a contrast to his mother’s immaculate, black Land Rover.

He looked the vehicle over, peering inside to check for ... for what?

For clues?

For answers?

Hadn’t he wasted enough time trying to second guess Haze?

It hadn’t worked. He had spent god knows how long watching him, thinking about him, obsessing over him, trying to figure him out. Yet, he still didn’t really know anything about him. What on earth was he going to learn now by examining an empty ute?

Blake’s eyelids drooped closed for a moment and he leaned against the bonnet of the ute to rest.

A wave of exhaustion overtook him as he lamented the futility of his actions.

What the hell was he doing out here? What could he do about Haze or Nats?

Nothing.

At least not tonight. Not in the dark. Not exhausted and half asleep. He needed to go to home. He needed to rest. He could tackle all of this tomorrow.

The night was relatively quiet, with only a background din from the bar. So it came as somewhat of a shock to Blake when this calm was shattered by the roar of a car’s engine and the sound of thick tires raking over gravel.

He turned towards the noise, but momentarily blinded by headlights, he found himself having to shield his eyes with his hands. When the light passed, he blinked at purple shadows and tried to peer into the darkness.

Then he spied a familiar black Land Rover, pulling up in the staff car park, on the side farthest from him. He couldn’t see inside at first, but then the engine died, the headlights dimmed and the cabin lights switched on to reveal Haze, sitting there in the passenger side seat.

Blake’s eyes widened and suddenly he felt the need to hide, so he crouched down beside the back tray of the ute. The joints and muscles in his legs protested, but he was too preoccupied with what was happening to pay much attention. He carefully lifted his head until he could see the Land Rover.

He could see Haze, motionless, vacant, staring forward. He was wearing the same clothes he had on that afternoon. Then suddenly Mrs Herrington’s face appeared from the driver’s side, leaning over the steering wheel facing sideways, towards him.

Blake ducked his head momentarily, thinking that she was looking at him. However, he quickly surmised that it wouldn’t be possible for her to see him. Not like this. He was well hidden and in the dark. All she would be able to see was her reflection from within the brightly lit cabin of the Land Rover. So, nervously, he raised his head again, peeking over the ute to see.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could tell she was yelling. He could hear the muffled noise, even behind the closed doors and windows. But more than that, he could see her screaming. Her face was bright red and veins appeared across her straining neck and forehead. She thumped the steering wheel with her fist every now and then, between frenetic waving of her hands.

Through all this Haze was still, silent, introverted. Not calm, so much as deadened. It was almost as if he wasn’t noticing she was there, but then Blake saw his mouth move and he realised that he was participating, at least a bit. Nothing he said seemed to calm her though. It only seemed to further enrage.

Then the quiet of the night was abruptly shattered by the shrill of her voice as she swung open the door and leapt out screaming.

“ ... a disgrace to yourself and a disgrace to ME!”

She rounded the car, grabbing at the passenger-side handle and yanking open the door.

“Get out!” she shouted at him, tugging and pulling chaotically at his seatbelt.

“Mum stop it ... I’m ... I’m sorry.”

He was speaking in a much quieter voice than hers, one that Blake found hard to make out from a distance.

“GET OUT, GET OUT!” his mother roared, near hysterical. She slammed her hand against the back window, giving up on undoing the seatbelt herself. “GET OUT OF MY CAR, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

She was almost hoarse with exertion now, her whole body shaking with fury as she watched him undo the belt and climb out of the car.

“I’m sorry,” Haze said again and although it was in a quiet voice and he appeared visibly unaffected Blake could tell this was not the case. He could tell Haze was pleading, begging from the inside. “I don’t know why ...”

“You don’t know? YOU DON’T KNOW?!”

She slapped him then, right across his face, causing him to flinch slightly, involuntarily, but he did nothing else. He didn’t raise a finger to stop her and he only barely reacted to the strike at all, even though Blake could hear the sound it made ring out clearly in the night air.

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID OR SOMTHING?”

Haze said nothing. He just stared at his feet.

“ARE YOU?”

Still no response and Blake found himself willing Haze to say something. To tell her ‘no’.

“I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!” she roared. “ARE YOU STUPID?”

“No.”

“ARE YOU A MORON?”

“No.”

“THEN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU, YOU ...” she trailed off then, apparently unable to come up with a fitting word, before deciding on, “FREAK!”

He said nothing.

“WELL?”

Still nothing.

“I’m waiting Hayden,” her stern voice lost some volume then as she tried to get her breath back.

“I’m ... I’m sorry-” he again pleaded, but was cut off as she grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him over to banquet hall doorway. Haze was bigger and stronger than her, but he seemed to let her drag him along like this, despite the obvious pain it was causing. Despite the slightly wild look to his now rapidly blinking blue eyes.

She kicked the door open.

“WHAT GOOD IS SORRY GOING TO DO FOR THIS?” she bellowed, giving his head one more shake before tossing him back as she released her grip.

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT THIS!?” she screamed again, pushing at his chest to force him halfway inside the doorway.

The remaining lights from the hall were still on, illuminating her face clearly. There was an almost psychotic look to her eyes now, a fury to her face beyond words.

“I’ll ... I’ll fix it.”

She raised her hand to slap him again and there was such menace in her manner that Blake felt moved to intervene this time, despite the circumstances. However, before he could stand up she stopped and then, she did the most unlikely thing.

She started crying.

Sobbing into her hands, shoulders hunched over and shuddering violently.

“I didn’t mean to ...” she paused, choking for a moment.

“I’m sorry mum.”

“You make me so angry,” she wailed, wiping her face with her hands.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“You’re always so bad, you make me angry, I can’t help it. Why are you so bad?”

“I’m sorry mum. Please ...” Haze’s voice cracked a little. He was having trouble maintaining his introverted state, Blake could tell.

“I’ll fix this. I will,” he said, firmly.

“I just don’t know what to do with you anymore Hayden,” she wept and whimpered piteously.

“I ... I’m gonna fix this ... and I’m gonna be ... better. I’m gonna be better mum.”

She pulled back her hands from her face for a moment and turned away from him, glancing around maniacally.

“They tried to take you Hayden, take you away.”

“Mum,” he said again, but she interrupted, grabbing him around the waist and sobbing into his chest.

“I won’t let them take you!”

Haze lifted an uncertain arm and brought it down across her shoulders, awkwardly returning the hug.

“Mum ... it’s okay ... I’m really sorry. I’m gonna fix it. I’m gonna make it better. Okay?”

She stopped then, as if something he had just said shocked her. She pushed off from him and her face darkened as she backed away.

“You’re god damn right you will,” she spat, suddenly malevolent once more.

“Mum-” he started, but was cut off.

“SHUT UP!” she screamed again before the effort seemed to be too much for her and she fell into silence. She clutched a hand to her forehead, her face set in a disgusted looking scowl.

She seemed to pause there for a moment, composing herself. When she next spoke it was in a hoarse, but no less threatening croak.

“The Morissets will be here in three days.”

She walked over towards him again, glaring.

“God knows what their daughter sees in you, but they are bringing her back from university for MY CHRISTMAS-” she was cut short by a cough that strangled her attempt to raise her voice again.

She thumped at her chest with one fist for a moment, pointing at him with the other hand.

“It’ll be done before the party,” Haze said. He had an almost panicked look to his eye, peeking out from behind the mask. Blake could see it, but only because he had studied that face so well and because the banquet hall provided just enough light for him to see clearly enough.

Penelope Herrington just glared at her son loathingly.

“Dating Patricia is the only worthwhile thing you’ve done in your whole useless life,” she sneered venomously. “Don’t. Fuck. That. Up. Too.” She punctuated every word with a jab of her pointing finger into his ribcage.

She pushed past him then and made for the car, climbing in swiftly and slamming the door. The engine was on and the Land Rover was tearing up gravel as it speedily reversed and left the car park.

Blake watched it for a moment as it sped off, but then he quickly looked back over to Haze when he heard him start to gasp. Haze had gone from an emotionless statue to a wild animal in less than a second. His chin was raised skyward as if he were underwater, drowning, and reaching upwards for the air above him. He was blinking rapidly and then he began to make a hooping sound as he took shorter and shorter breaths. He hugged trembling arms around his stomach and his eyes darted around wildly.

Blake could feel his own body trembling now, almost as if it were copying what he was seeing. His body knew what was happening to Haze. His mind knew what was happening too. The feelings, the empathy almost overwhelming. Blake felt a desire to ... no ... a need to do something.

But he didn’t get the chance, because it was all over in a few seconds.

Haze took one or two more breaths, paused and then stopped. Just like that. No gasps, no noise, just still. He’d gone blank, limp. His eyes were vacant, open and yet unfocused, almost as if he were asleep though he was clearly awake. The expression on his face had melted away until it fell slack. His arms had fallen to his sides, heavy, lifeless.

Introverted Haze.

Even more detached and vacant than when he’d been in the back of the police car that afternoon. He was almost lifeless now. A statue, but for the slow and steady movement of his chest.

Blake watched, dumfounded, amazed, confused and awed. His own body was still trembling with anxiety and panic. His own breathing was uncontrollable. His own eyes were still wide.

But Haze was perfectly still. Perfectly ... nothing.

He did that ‘nothing’ for a long while, but then he came to life again. He moved towards the doorway of the hall, leaning in to switch off the light. Next he turned around and headed towards the ute, towards Blake.

Alarm bells were ringing inside Blake’s head, but he was frozen to the spot, bereft of ideas. No way to escape. Heart in his throat.

When Haze finally rounded the car, he stopped and just stared at him.

Blake straightened himself and stood up. He stared back with a terrified, guilty look to his face.

“What are ya doin?” Haze asked, flatly, unemotionally.

“I ... I ...” Blake scrambled for something to say. “I ... was just checking on you.”

“Go away.”

“Haze, I ...”

“Go away!” Haze shouted, face snarling, eyes wild once more. The mask was gone.

“But ...”

“GO AWAY!” he now screamed, causing Blake to stumble and to fall backwards onto the gravel, grazing his palms.

Blake felt frightened, anxious and bewildered. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen Haze like this before.

Haze just ignored him, yanking the door of the ute open, climbing inside.

Blake, suddenly worried that he was about to be reversed over, got back to his feet and ran. He didn’t wait to see what Haze would do next, he just ran. He ran out of the staff car park, past the utility buildings, down the rear dirt driveway and then onto the street. He stopped running only when he was halfway down the street and only then because his legs were about to give way.

Shit, he thought to himself.

Shit!

SHIT!