The Failure - full story

Read my other chapter, except this is the fully finished version.

The Failure

By Jamie Shen

 

“Wooo! Let’s get this party started!!” screamed the boy in the passenger seat.

The stolen Porsche raced down the road at a speed that no one thought it could go at. On the left side of the road, a shopping centre whizzed past at impossible speeds. On the right, houses were blurred, until they became nothing more than colours flying past.

 “Geez Marcus. Slow down, will ya?” shouted a boy behind the driver seat.

The driver, who was a sixteen year old birthday boy, just sped up.

“What? Are you too ball-less to handle the speed?” yelled the boy in the passenger seat, “Faster, Marcus!”

Marcus, the driver, yanked the steering wheel right, causing the car to skid onto two wheels, and turn into a street.

“Holy crap, the cops in this town really suck!” yelled the boy behind the passenger seat. Ironically, his father was a cop.

Everyone in the car was ecstatic. What was better than whizzing down a street in a Porsche, for your sixteenth birthday?

Halfway down the street, Marcus slowed to 20km/h. When questioned, he answered: “The old f**s on this street are asleep by now. Why do you think I slowed down?”

The other boys praised him for his perception.

“But just a little bit faster, won’t you? After all, you turn sixteen today, Marc!”

Marcus responded by going up to 70km/h.

“That’s more like it!”

Nobody knows what happened. It was dark. They were going fast. One of the ‘old f**s’ had a daughter.

But they do know that the car definitely hit something – or someone.

Bump.

The car screeched to a halt.

“Oi! Marc. Did-ya hear that.”

“I hope it’s a possum.” Said backseat boy nervously.

“Bit big, ain’t it?”

They got out of the car slowly, and shuffled to the front of the car for an inspection.

There, lying on the ground, hair tangled like a spider’s web, lay a girl.

“Crap man!! Let’s bail.”

“No! Wait!” called Marcus.

“Sorry man. We gotta roll.” Said one of the boys.

A feeling of guilt, horror and nervousness welled up inside Marcus. He had been driving, he had decided to steal a car for his sixteenth birthday, and he was the one who went up to 70.

The night seemed to suffocate him, to cover his mouth with a pillow of darkness. The trees on the side of the street seemed to be hands of darkness, surrounding him, mocking him.

“Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!” he yelled.

Suddenly, something snapped inside of him.

I’ve gotta get this girl to hospital! She could die! And it’s all my stupid fault!

Pulling her limp body up, he heaved her into the car. He didn’t care about being caught with a stolen car anymore; he had attempted murder on his shoulders.

Once he had secured her in the car, he drove off faster than he had come.

 

Two days later…

The smell of the hospital was horrible. Marcus had never liked the smell of antiseptic, and medicine. It reminded him of his father’s business before he had left; drug dealing.

Walker general hospital was established in 1985. But since then, nothing very exiting had happened there, a few broken bones, and one case of the measles, but they mostly treated average day cuts and bruises.

The inside of the hospital was medium sized, and consisted of a main hall for waiting and reception, twelve wards, each treating a different injury (mostly empty), and bright lighting whatever time of the day it was.

He went up to the pretty receptionist.

“Hello. Um… can I see… er…I don’t really know her name…but-”

“Just tell me the gender, the age and the incident.”

“Er… Car crash, girl, and I think she’s about my age.”

“You want Mai (pronounced my) Nguyen. Ward seven. Coma and memory loss section.”

Marcus was surprised for two reasons. The first was that up until he had heard her surname, he hadn’t known that Mai was Asian – she certainly didn’t look Asian except for the black hair. The second reason hit him like a sledgehammer. She’s in a coma!?

With only the slightest bit of hesitation, he pushed open the door.

“Hello?”

 

Marcus was stunned. She wasn’t in a coma…

“Yes?” she asked again.

“Um…well…I was the one…who…y’know…” What do you say to the girl you crashed your car into? “I was the one who…crashed…into…you…”

“Crash? What crash?” she asked.

Marcus couldn’t take his eyes away from her unknowing ones. They were blue.

How could anyone forget being nearly killed? Then he grew pale. This is the ward for coma and MEMORY LOSS! She’s lost her memory!

“Oh… um, don’t worry about it…”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Marcus, and I’m sixteen.”

“Sixteen?”

“Yeah. Y’know. Sixteen years old. The big one-six. Six past the big time.”

“Oh… Oh yes. I remember now. Good to meet you Marcus.” The rest she mumbled, barely audible, “Let’s see. The tag on my wrist says I was born on 15/04/1993. So I turned 15 yesterday.”

“Wow. How’d you do that?” Wondering if it was irony or sarcasm, that the world had made her birthday the same as his.

“Do what?”

“Those sums. I can’t even remember my tables.”

“Tables?”

“I mean times tables. You know. Multiplication.”

“Right. Multiplying. I knew that.”

“So… Have your family visited yet?”

She shrugged.

While they talked, he studied her for a while. She had black hair, brown eyes, and she was probably Eurasian. Subconsciously, without knowing it or admitting it, he had made a friend in the girl he nearly killed.

 

On the way out, a kindly looking old man, in doctor’s clothes and holding a clipboard came up to him and asked: “Are you Marcus?”

“Yeah…”

The man glanced at his clipboard, “And you just visited Mai Nguyen?”

Marcus nodded.

“And now you know her?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good. I want you to help her regain her memory.”

“Me? Why me!?”

“You were the driver, yes?”

“Yes… Listen, I’m already on probation, but the judge can’t make a decision, until-”

“Until she regains her memory.” The doctor finished.

“You know? Then why do you want me?”

“Because, I have a feeling that her mother – which is her only family – doesn’t really care for her. Her mum seems like a jerk to me.”

“Then why me?”

“Because you have already made a mental connection with her. After you left, she was asking when ‘Marcus’ would come again. When asked who Marcus was, she said the boy with black hair who visited just then. You are Marcus, am I correct?”

Marcus decided not to lie, because the doctor seemed to have eyes which penetrated into his mind, and could see every detail of his failure of a life.

“Yes. I am.”

“Good. Also, I have a feeling that the judged would look kindly on the boy who helped his victim.”

And with that, Marcus left the hospital, and out onto the street.

 

“Where to boss?” asked the taxi driver.

The taxi was disgusting as taxis go. The carpet was ripped out to reveal the metal underneath. The chairs had lost their stuffing a while ago, and the inside smelled like beer, urine and twelve years worth of sexual activity.

But the taxi drive was an old accomplice of Marcus's drug dealer dad. He was about 30 years old, had a little moustache, and sounded Italian, even though Marcus knew for a fact that the driver’s name was Harold, not Luigi, and he was actually British.

“My home please.”

“No problemo bossman.” Said ‘Luigi’. Even though he was British, years of living in Italy had darkened his skin, and given him some permanent stubble on his chin, making him fit perfectly into the stereotype of an Italian.

As the world passed by him outside, he thought about his life for the first time since he had been first been given a charge.

He had just passed year 8. He had struggled to keep up in year 9. The principle had offered him some extra learning to catch up in year 10, and now here he was. In year 11. Failing gradually, and looking like a drop out.

“We-a here, mister bossman.”

“Thanks, er…Luigi.” Marcus never knew what to call him.

“No problem-o Mister Bossman.” He said as Marcus handed over a bunch of coins without counting.

 

Marcus’ home was 16 Peveril Street. It was a little run-down, but altogether liveable. It had three bedrooms; a small, a medium, and a suite. He wasn’t allowed to live by himself yet, so he lived with one of his father’s girlfriends; Jojo.

Jojo wasn’t s****y like the other girls his dad had brought home. She was clean, pretty without make up, and wasn’t super skinny either. She eventually left Marcus’ father, but came back to take care of Marcus when his dad left. She was 28, had blue eyes, dirty-blonde hair, tall at 1m 87cm, and she was ‘authentic’ British. She was a riot when she was angry, because no one could be intimidated by her heavy British accent. But she was rarely angry at Marcus. Jojo knew that Marcus was failing and tried to help him, no matter how stressed he was.

“Marcus.”

“Yeah Jo?”

“I know this time has been hard for you. So I’ve decided we’ll take the rest of the holiday to go to somewhere. How’s that sound?”

“Great!” he said enthusiastically, and then his face fell.

“What is it love?”

“Well… You know that girl …hit?”

“Yes dear.”

“Well, I’ve been given the job of looking after her until she gets her memory back.”

Jojo’s face brightened even more. “That’s wonderful! You’ll get to meet a girl your own age! And, that’ll help you with the court!”

“Yeah, that’s what the doctor said.”

 

Marcus’ house was average size. It had a big back yard, and a massive tree – of unknown species – stood in the centre. In contrast to the rest of the house, the tree was magnificent. It stood higher than the house, unclimbable, and it was a home to most species of birds available in Glen Waverley. Magpies sang, crows dropped their waste, pigeons dropped even more waste, and occasionally, a flock of cockatoos would find perch there. But mostly there were sparrows. They came in their tight flocks, and made a lot of peculiar chirps.

But there never seemed to be too many bird droppings. The many leaves on the tree seemed to catch the droppings. One thing that the tree could not catch, though, was the leftover bones and fruit that the possums had scavenged out of the bins.

 

In his bed, Marcus thought about Mai. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. He resolved to bring her a gift tomorrow, and also to start the custody thing.

With these thoughts playing on his mind, he fell into a deep sleep.

 

 

 

“Who are you?”

“I am Mai’s memory.”

“But I thought you were gone…”

“I am not. And you must retrieve me, or there will be a retribution.”

“Retribution?”

“Punishment…”

“l-l- Like what hunh ? You can’t do anything to me, you s-stupid memory!”

“Then allow me to show you what will happen…”

The world swirled, everything was distorted, until…

There was someone. A boy? He was locked up, chained to a wall.

“W-who are you?”

“I am you…” he said without looking up.

“No your not! I-I’m me! Look at me when I talk to you!”

And he did. The boy was indeed Marcus.

But with no eyes.

“Aaaaaah!!!”

Jojo burst into the room.

“What, what?!”

Marcus looked around the room, the dream fading away.

“Nothing…”

Jojo sighed. “It’s okay. I’ll make breakfast.”

She was still dressed in her pyjamas. She looked older than she really was.

“Don’t worry Jojo. I’ll make us Breaky. You go back to sleep.”

“What’s gotten into you?” but she glowed with happiness.

 

Half an hour later, eggs, bacon, fried toast, coffee, cereal, milk and butter lay on the table. He hoped he had done a good job. Jojo needed a rest.

Marcus stacked some toast, bacon and eggs onto a tray, next to the coffee, and sent the tray to a happily surprised Jojo.

“What’s gotten into you today?”

“No worries madam, I’m simply serving you breakfast.” He said in his best British waiter’s accent.

Jojo laughed.

While Jojo was eating breakfast, Marcus went to the bathroom and combed his hair, brushed his teeth, emptied his pockets of cigarette butts, and generally mad himself more presentable.

“How do I look?” he asked Jojo.

Her fork froze halfway to her mouth. A piece of egg fell off.

“Okay. What the hell have you done with the real Marcus?” she said without smiling.

Marcus sighed. “Fine…I’m doing this for…y’know…”

“For the girl.” finished Jojo, “What’s her name?”

“Mai.” He answered, “Now you know. So how do I look?”

She grinned, “Not that I want to overuse a cliché, but if you were 10 years older, I’d go out with you.”

Marcus blushed.

Jojo snapped into housekeeper mode.

“Have you eaten? You look famished!”

“Jojooooooo.” He whined, “I’m not hungr-”

“No! I will not listen to that! Go and eat. If you don’t, you’ll be dead by noon.”

Marcus groaned.

 

Marcus stopped at the gift shop on the way to the hospital. He didn’t know what to get Mai, so he wandered aimlessly among the aisles, like a veteran wanders among the memorials.

Eventually, he found a book titled: Adrian Mole – the Wilderness Years for Mai and a pretty chain for Jojo.

When he entered Mai’s room, he found her sobbing quietly into her blanket.

“What happened?!” exclaimed Marcus, deciding to leave out the phrase: ‘the hell’ in between.

Mai looked up, and hastily brushed her tears away. Her eyes were puffy.

“N-nothing.”

Marcus wasn’t good with talking to girls about their feelings, or anyone’s feeling to be exact, so he decided not to enquire further.

“Um…Here, I got you a book.”

Mai’s face radiated joy at being given a present.

Unable to contain his anxiety further, despite his discomfort, he asked: “Why were you crying?”

“Marcus…I-I’ve lost my memory.” Mai’s face was contorted with tears and sadness.

Marcus didn’t know what to say.

She buried her face into the blankets.

He didn’t know what came over him, maybe some primal instinct to help people in obvious discomfort, but he went over to her and wrapped his arms around her in an embrace.

“It’s okay…you’ll be fine…” he whispered.

There was silence.

“Marcus?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you tell me I had lost my memory? I was wondering where I was, and who I am, until the doctor told me I had lost my memory. I thought you were probably my friend before, right?”

The pain in lying to her was almost unbearable. “Yeah, I guess was your friend.”

 

Marcus whistled all the way home. Mai was fun to be around, unless she was sad. When the nurse had entered with lunch, Mai had commented on the nurse’s weight, and when she left, Mai had asked Marcus to teach her some swear words. Tomorrow, Mai would be allowed to come out of the hospital. He had planned a whole day together.

“Why, what’s gotten into you, Mr Sunshine?” asked Jojo when he handed her the chain.

“Eh…Mai’s allowed to leave the hospital for a day tomorrow.”

“Looks like you’ve gotten to quite liking this girl.”

Marcus thought about defending himself from the accusation, but he replied: “Yes, yes I have.”

Jojo was stunned.

 

Now, while Marcus was brimming with joy, he hadn’t noticed that Jojo looked tired. She no longer had that brightness that had stopped Marcus from committing suicide. If Jojo hadn’t been around, Marcus would have died of drug overdose years ago.

But now, Jojo was getting more and more tired every day. She wasn’t even that old.

While Marcus was watching TV, Jojo went into her room. She knew what was happening, but she didn’t want to know.

Jojo had diabetes.

She had been diagnosed with possible diabetes since she was fifteen years old. It hadn’t bothered her that much over the years, so she hadn’t gone back to the doctors, and hadn’t told Marcus about it.

But, whichever way she thought, it always came to the same conclusion. I have to tell someone, or I’ll die.

Without warning, she felt dizzy and tired. Her last thought before she fell asleep was: Who’ll take care of Marcus when I’m gone?

 

‘Ding dong.’

Marcus jumped off the couch and jogged over to the door.

“Hey man. Heard you’ve gone tame.” Was the first thing that Johnny ‘killer’ Miller said.

“Hey Johnny. I haven’t gone tame. Where’d you get this crap?”

“After you sixteen, heard you got into some accident. Now you moochin’ up to the victim? That’s low.”

Marcus bristled. He wasn’t used to being insulted. Sure he had been lazing around the past few days, but he wasn’t tame. He said so.

“You sure ‘bout that?” Johnny said pretending to be unbelieving, “If you sure, come down to the junkyard tomorrow night. We got us some fun.”

The junkyard lived up to its name. It was behind Marcus’ school, and it contained all sorts of things, but the council had stopped dumping there when it became overfilled. But the local gangs had removed some of the junk, and had built a fighting ‘ring’, where they sometimes had gang fights and single matches.

“Tomorrow? C’mon, I got plans.”

“What plans?”

“I’ve got…er…a date! Yeah a date.”

“With who?”

“A girl.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever, up to you dawg.”

With that, Johnny left.

 

The first thing Mai said was: “That book was brilliant!”

Marcus blushed. “Eh, it was?”

“It certainly was!! I love the way that I can relate to Adrian! Marcus, I want you to promise me two things.”

“Yeah sure, anything.”

“The first is, you must read Adrian Mole.”

“No problem.” He lied.

Mai’s face hardened. “Seriously. Read it.”

“Okay, fine…”Marcus wondered what he had got himself into; he hadn’t read a book since year 5.

“Second. Can you please bring more books?”

“Definitely. I’ve got hundreds of books from my mum, before she left.”

“Your mum left?”

Marcus hesitated. He didn’t often voluntarily talk about his mother.

“Come on. You can tell me.”

“Fine…Mum left when I was in year two. She got sick of the bloody s***s that my effing dad brought home all the time.”

Mai was silent. Marcus noticed that his voice had been steadily rising towards the end. But he couldn’t contain it anymore.

“Damnit, Damnit!!”

He raved on about how his dad was a drug dealer, and how his mother was like an angel, and how dad had finally driven her out, and finally, about what he did to his father.

“What did you do to him?’ whispered Mai.

Marcus halted.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was so angry. It was years ago. Don’t worry.”

“Marcus.” Mai said firmly. “What did you do to him?”

Marcus sighed.

“You don’t want to know.” The absolute sincerity in his voice scared her.

Marcus decided it was a good idea to change the topic.

“So, um… yeah, do you want to go outside or what?”

Mai brightened considerably.

“Yes! I do! Where are we going?!”

“The first place you are going,” said a voice from behind, “Is the toilets.”

Marcus spun around, nearly slipping on the polished floor.

“To change into some proper clothes.” Said a woman in casual clothes.

Marcus bristled. “You her mum?” he snarled.

The woman did not even flinch, “No, I’m Mai’s counsellor and doctor. I’m going to help her regain her memory.”

“Doc d’Arc here’s been helping me a lot recently.”

“D’Arc, that French or something?”

“For your information, it is.” She said politely.

“What’s up with your clothes?”

“Oh, I prefer to separate my self from my fellow union followers.” She said lightly, walking over to Mai’s bed, “Here, I got you some clothes, because I figured that Marcus wouldn’t, and that the other doctors wouldn’t, and your Mother probably wouldn’t.”

“Oh thank you! Just because I lost my memory, doesn’t mean I lost my sense of fashion.”

D’Arc laughed. It had a hint of a trill in it.

Deciding to skip this fashion related talk; Marcus excused himself for a toilet break.

 

“Holy…!” Mai exclaimed.

She had her face practically pressed to the glass.

“What? Oh right, Borders. That’s like the biggest book shop in the world.”

They were currently in Camberwell, having completely exhausted themselves going through every single shop at ‘The Glen’ shopping centre.

Marcus didn’t even want to know how they got to Camberwell so fast.

“Can we go in!” she pleaded.

“I dunno, I’m not such a big fan of books to be honest.”

“Please?” she pleaded again.

Marcus finally gave up to her pleas. People were beginning to stare. He hoped that Johnny wasn’t hanging around here.

The bookshop was even bigger on the inside. It had three levels, one below ground. The books ranged from everything to everything else. It had no people browsing its shelves, and there was a defeated looking clerk at the counter.

Mai dragged him over to the counter. There clerk seemed to be avoiding his gaze. “Hello. Do you have…What’s his name again?”

“Adrian Mole. Hey! Haven’t I seen you somewhere before.” He pointed to the clerks nametag, “Harold…Har-old…Haaar-oood…hmm. Holy crap!”

“What?” queried Mai.

“Nothing. You go look for the book. I gotta do something.”

Marcus stared at ‘Harold’. Harold squirmed. He had cheap aftershave on, and the smell mixed with sweat was highly unpleasant. Although his clothes were different, and he had combed his hair, he still slightly resembled…

“Luigi? Is that you?”

The man gave up. “Yes-a. It is I-aaaaa…”

“You can stop with the accent Luigi.”

“Oh thank you! Keeping this charade going has aged me indefinitely.”

“Luig, where’d you pick up such fancy words?” But Marcus already knew the answer.

“Fine…I’m British, okay? Wow, I would have never figured you’d go for a bookshop, and in Camberwell.”

Deciding not to dig further about the ‘whys’ and ‘hows’ of being a fake Italian, he answered: “I’m here with that girl.”

“Your girlfriend-?”

“Marcus! I found it!! Come quick!” Mai called.

“Sorry, books beckon.”

When he got there, Mai was staring at a book in her hand.

“Yo, what’s that?” Adrian Mole, Weapons of Mass Destruction was on the ground.

He looked over her shoulder. She was reading the blurb.

A New Life by Joan Towend*

 

A girl looses her memory.

Life is completely different.

Why?

 

Anne Cross was a normal girl, until the accident that changed her life.

It was a normal night. It could have happened to anyone who was careless enough. But that night, fate played a cruel trick.

 

The car screeched, but unable to stop, it sailed onwards, toward me. The shock came first, the pain came next. And then, I was in peace. Darkness surrounded me.

“Where am I?”

Muffled voices.

“She’s coming to. Scan her brain Activity!”

“Will do ma’am!”

“We need diagnostics here! Hurry up!”

“Coming!”

I felt something being strapped to my mouth and nostrils, and I fell into blissful peace once more…

*(This book and author are completely and utterly fake.)

A tear landed on the word Muffled.

“Mai? Are you okay?”

A weird laugh escaped from her. “You really don’t get this book, do you?”

“Nope. I’m not really into books.”

She looked up. “It’s literally my story.”

“Oh…” Marcus realised he was being slow, “Oh, yeah, I guess so.”

Mai shook herself. She half closed her eyes and groaned.

“What?”

“It’s, it’s, coming back! A car. A fancy one! A Porsche or something. A bunch of boys…They were yelling and having a great time…Light…Argh!!!” she grabbed he stomach and fell to her knees, the book completely forgotten.

Marcus didn’t know what to do.

“Oi! Luig-Harold, whatever, get over here!”

Harold/Luigi (Lets just refer to him as Harold from now) ran toward them.

“What happened?!”
”I think she’s regaining her memory! Do you have your taxi!?”

“Yeah, it around the back.”

Marcus half carried Mai out the back door and into the taxi before running around to the other side and throwing himself next to her.

“The hospital, quick!”

“Okey-dokey!”

Marcus hugged Mai, with the same tenderness as Jojo had done to him, when he was hurt.

For once in his reckless life, he regretted stealing a car.

 

Marcus was tossing and turning in his hospital chair. People stared too scared to wake him up.

“No… I won’t do it again… help...Please…I…didn’t mean to…please…I lo-”

He awoke with a start. People were staring at him, as though he was some sort of maniac.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stuck up his middle finger at the wide-eyed people. “Go eff yourselves.”

He stood up and started to pace.

Then, Mai’s door opened, and Doctor d’Arc, dressed in uniform for once, stuck her head out. She looked pitying, with a tinge of sadness mixed in.

“Marcus? She’s calling for you.”

Afraid of how he would be received, he shuffled in.

The doctor left them alone.

Mai’s face was buried in shadow. Maybe the shadow stood for something, like hate or anger, that’d be ironic. Or sarcastic. He thought.

Then a book came whizzing past his head and landed on the floor. It was Adrian Mole.

“You…” said Mai. There was more anger in that voice than he had ever heard, “You’re the loser who was driving!! Friend my a*s!!” she screamed.

“So…you remember?” he said weakly.

“Of course I do you loser!! You said you were my friend!! What a bloody lie that was!! You’re just a guy who thinks that once he had returned my memory, could then think that I would forgive you!!” She called him every swear-word he had taught her that day.

Marcus kept his mouth shut. What was there to say? Mai had said it all.

Mai burst into tears. Burying her head once more, she screamed into her knees.

Marcus left. She hated him. He had nothing more to do with her.

Another failure for the loser-man. He thought, while his deeper thoughts swirled beneath his calm features.

“The old doctor approached him once more.

“So…How did it turn out?”

Marcus thought about being angry at the man who had put him up to this. But what was the point. The old man looked at him sadly, and Marcus sensed pity for the boy who had made one too many mistakes.

Marcus sighed. “You should have gotten her mum.”

And he left.

 

The next few days seemed colourless, bland. Marcus wasn’t in control of his life anymore. He was simply the viewer, watching life go on without him. Even school seemed more boring and the teachers had stopped annoying him. Even the teachers could sense his utter despair.

It Friday. The last day of week one had finished.

He was walking out onto the crowded pathway to cross the road. The children seemed to be pushed away from him.

A few lines of American Idiot blared from his pocket. The teacher-on-duty, instead of confiscating the phone, simply said: “Pick it up then.”

He did as he was told.

“Hello?”

“Marcus?” her voice was shaky.

“Hey Jojo.”

“I’m in the hospital. Apparently I’ve just fainted.”

“What?!” he cried. Nobody seemed to notice. Nobody seemed to care.

“I haven’t told you. But I have diabetes. I’m going to die Marcus.”

The phone clattered to the ground.

He shoved his way through the crowd.

The crowd shoved him back.

He just shoved harder.

“Get…the…HELL…out…of…my…WAY!!” he roared. The crowd shrank back a little.

 

Jojo looked frail.

Too frail.

NO! Jojo can’t die! She’s always been there!

“Jojo? I’m here.”

“Marcus…Don’t worry…you’ll be fine…just keep studying and you’ll do fine.”

“Jojo! You are not going to die!”

“I am. I don’t want to live anymore. There’s no use.”

“There is! Please!”

“Look…I married and divorced seven men, including your father. I dropped out of high school in year nine. I was pregnant at fifteen years of age. The baby miscarried. I…I truly feel…that you have replaced the hole in my heart, that was my son.”

At this point, Marcus had tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Jojo. Joanna. You have replaced the hole in my heart as well. Please. You’re like my mother…I need you…”

“Marcus…I am going to die…It is inevitable…So please….when I do…live life fuller than I did…When I’m dead…apologise one more time to Mai…You need her…I can see…you changed when you met her…stay by her side...stay…by…her.” with this, one of Marcus’ few constant friends was ripped away from him.

Jojo’s eyes were still open. Marcus closed them.

No nurses came rushing in to record the time of death. No doctors came to try and revive her. It was over.

 

Two days later…

An eighth hood dropped.

Another entered the ‘ring’.

The poor boy didn’t even have time to raise his fists, before Marcus kneed him in the stomach.

“Nine!”

After a tenth, Johnny came into the ring and said, “Dude, that’s the most I’ve ever seen anyone down. C’mon, let’s talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk. Is that the hardest you got gaybo?!” he spat at the retreating No.10.

“Dude, you didn’t used to be this agro mate. People die. That’s the end of it mate. Whether it be so they can be reincarnated, or whether it be that they got to heaven or hell, ain’t out problem. Right.”

With false calmness, Marcus replied, “Gee, you sure give nice advice for a hood.”

“Hey! Don’t we all, when we feel like it? I’ll leave youse to youse own thoughts for a while, kay? Besides, I’m catholic.” He added, as if that explained it all.

“Sure.”

But there’s nothing to think about. I’m a failure…I’ve lost Mai, I’ve lost Jojo, I’ve lost my success, I’ve lost everything worth losing.

“See ya tomorrow Johnno.”

“Yeah, sees ya mate.”

 

The social services had finally taken an interest in him when Jojo died, so now he had a housekeeper living in the living room. He didn’t let the new housekeeper – Tony – live in Jojo’s room. It would hurt to much. But he did let Tony clean her room, but not throw anything out.

Tony was a well mannered man. His idea of casual was a suit and tie, and he had curly brown/grey hair that curled so much, it was confusing. He had a jolly attitude, even though he was skinny. But maybe a jolly fat man was just a stereotype.

“Marcus, a package arrived this morning. I tried to tell you, but you just walked out. It’s from someone named Mai.”

Marcus’ heart thumped. Mai? Or was it just hate mail.

Opening the yellow packaging was the most anxious moment of his life.

There was a letter inside:

Dear Marcus,

I heard about your friend’s death. I’m so sorry. I do not know how it feel like to loose someone, but I can guess how hard it is for you. I can’t simply forgive you for injuring me, but now that I think about it, I have decided to be your friend. After all, you cared for me.

Anyway, how is your new housekeeper? I’m perfectly fit and ready to go. Apparently, the car you guys were in was only going at 50-something km/h when you actually hit me. Also my mum’s a pisser. I hate her already. Now I know why the doc told you to look after me. My mum’s not much use.

Could you meet me at Camberwell tomorrow at four pm? We need to talk.

XOXOXOXO

Mai

There was a book in the package. It was Adrian Mole. Marcus had never been so happy to see a book in his entire life.

“Hey there Adrian.”

 

One week later…

“Hey Mai! Have you ever read Selby?”

“Marcus! Selby’s a kiddie’s book. What would I look like if my boyfriend was seen reading that?”

“Fine… It just looked interesting is all…”

 

Jojo’s funeral had been…I think quaint is the word. Now many people turned up. Just Marcus, Mai, Tony, Harold/Luigi and a sister they had never heard of turned up. The sister was crying to herself throughout the ceremony. Marcus didn’t feel sad anymore. Jojo was dead. He had got over the fact.

He looked up at the sky, where he was sure Jojo was resting. Someone as pure as her would not end up in hell.

 

“Interesting is the fact that I’m going out with a retard.” Mai grinned.

“Hey!” said Marcus trying to control a grin, “That stung.”

“A car smashing into my body stung as well.”

“Point taken.”

“But sorry, anyway.”

“It’s okay.”

They embraced.

“Oi! You two lovebirds, I’ll get my hunting gun and shoot you if you keep up with that mushy stuff.” Groaned Harold, the (now) full time bookshop owner.

“Hey you can’t talk, I mean you and Penelope are on each other like dogs!” Marcus yelled to him, without taking his arms from around Mai.

“Hey! Penelope and I are a civilised British couple, unlike you Australians!” Harold was really playing the ‘I’m a civilised Briton’ card with the ladies.

They laughed.

“Yeah, but I’m half Asian!” called Mai.

Marcus stared deep into Mai’s blue eyes.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“What was that?” mocked Mai, cuffing her hand to her ear.

“I said: I love you!”

“Sorry, a little louder.”

“I said…I LOVE YOU!!” he said, a silly grin spreading across on his face.

A woman who had just entered the shop said, “My, isn’t that a bit loud? Go have illegitimate children in your own rooms!”

“Screw you lady.” Said Mai.

Marcus smiled a genuine smile.