Hapless

Lately the film of Theo’s life had seemed to lack a discernible plot, so he had felt justified for not paying close attention to things. But a more clear-sighted observer would have seen that his recent past was littered with happenings so telling they were basically tropes: the awkward conversations, the one-word message replies, even (on one occasion) the flinching recoil from a kiss. Then, almost without noticing at all, Theo found himself dumped by his girlfriend Millie and, by extension, Melbourne, his adopted home since moving there for university almost ten years earlier.

Melbourne—that city of more than four quarters, of overgrown creeks, of hidden money, of anything goes. Melbourne—that city of old friends who melt suddenly into a new development in some faraway suburb and disappear forever. Melbourne—a city that promises so much, that seems so trustworthy, so down-to-earth for someone of that calibre, with that kind of reputation, just look at how they dress, how freely they carry their misdemeanours. Melbourne—a city whose whimsical charms now seemed to Theo like costume jewellery, worn with a mien that switched from innocent to ironic in a hurtling whip-pan and didn’t wait for you to catch up.

His friend Sophie agreed to be his getaway driver for the week. It was rare for him to ask for something so urgently, or indeed to ask for anything at all, so she didn’t hesitate. Besides, she was always looking for an excuse to get out of the city. Having lived in Melbourne her entire life, its eclecticism had become as unremarkable to her as visible tattoos or Google Maps.

They didn’t book anything and instead agreed to play it by ear as they headed out beyond the city’s western tendrils and down the quiet highway that skirted the Surf Coast.

“I took piano lessons when I was a kid,” Sophie said, looking over at Theo periodically. “My hands were fine but my ear was never any good. All the intervals sounded the same to me. Give me any two notes and I’ll find a way to turn them into the start of the national anthem, without fail.”

“Sounds like you missed your true calling as a professional athlete,” Theo deadpanned.

“I was thinking primary school teacher.”

“Shouldn’t you look at the road a little more regularly?”

“Probably. But at least I never take my hands off the wheel, and like I said, they’re my most effective appendages.”

“Mine would be my eyes, I guess.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t count. They don’t protrude.”

After a short silence Sophie added, “Also, you don’t see anything important. How could you not notice anything was wrong with Millie?”

Theo thought for a moment, then replied, “That wasn’t an eye problem; that was a brain problem.”

“Everything’s a brain problem, when you think about it. So maybe the answer is not to think about it. In which case you should be fine.”

Theo didn’t say anything so Sophie added, “Because your brain is about as active as a dead pigeon.”

He thought about this for a minute before responding, “You see the carcasses on the road, but you never see them get hit. They always seem to dodge the car at the last moment. But someone else must hit them, sometimes. It must happen to somebody.”

~

They stopped for lunch in a picturesque town that seemed to be built around three near-identical bakeries placed in a row on the main street, the sun glinting off the window panes like jewels in a crown. They entered the emptiest.

“At the good ones, all the best stuff will be sold out by now,” Sophie reasoned.

Theo had long believed that, as a rule, it’s better to be underwhelmed than disappointed, especially when you’re already licking wounds. A hungry dog is not a choosy dog, and is there anything more sickening than a choosy dog?

“What do you think a dog would order here?” he asked, turning towards Sophie, who looked slightly concerned.

“When I said you needed to turn your brain off, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

They sat on a ridge overlooking the ocean and ate their sausage rolls, which turned out to be surprisingly good. Surprise was the most positive emotion that Theo could recall experiencing recently, and this seemed to prove the importance of setting very low expectations. “Worst comes to worst, we can park somewhere and sleep in the car tonight.”

Sophie glared at him. “This is only a getaway in a Melbourne sense. You don’t actually have to get off the grid.”

“Does that mean I can turn my phone back on?”

“It does, but you’re still not allowed. I’ll decide when we’re ready for that.”

“‘We?’”

“I’m invested too. Not in you, per se. Or Millie, for that matter. But in the overall shape of things. You’re a character in my story now.”

Theo tilted his head to rest awkwardly on Sophie’s shoulder and stared at the glassy sea.

“That’s a promising development. I think I can operate within that framework.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop thinking?”

In the distance Theo could just make out two figures walking on the sand, one human and the other canine. “I’m trying,” he said, as he watched them disappear into the horizon.

~

They continued driving south and waited for some kind of signal from the divine to tell them when to stop. Millie had had the good sense to end things outside of the peak holiday season, so the traffic was light and they sped through town after town. Eventually, after a few hours of heavenly silence, Sophie thought it necessary to take on the role of deus ex machina and declared, “This place feels right. At least, it’s as good a spot as any.”

“Is it just because there’s a dachshund tied up in front of the IGA?”

“It has absolutely nothing to do with that, which I had not noticed at all until you pointed it out to me, but we probably do need to pick up some supplies. In our reckless haste, we forgot to pack a big, juicy bone.”

They got a double room at the next motel they came across. As soon as they were inside, Theo dropped his bag and lay prone on the bed, his arms and legs splayed. In his mind he was swimming beneath the surface of an icy lake, his legs pumping hard while the world around him spun as if being vortexed into a drain far below.

In the real world, Sophie watched as Theo’s body twitched like a worn-out fish and pondered whether to wake him. It was only five o’clock and she figured there would be plenty of other opportunities this week to mope in bed. “Theo, you’d better get up,” she called out. “I think something big is happening outside.”

He rolled over and carefully opened his eyes. “What’s happening?”

“I think I see another dachshund. They might be multiplying. We’d better go check it out in case it gets any worse.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to prevent me from wallowing. But I know you, so the dog story is plausible.”

“Just hurry up and get out here.”

~

It was a clear autumn evening and the air came in from the sea like an icy net, cast wide and deep then dragged back languidly before being thrown yet again over the unfortunate town, doomed by geography to this gentle torture. Sophie walked with purpose down the main street, passing the shops (the entrances to all of which, Theo noticed, were dogless) then turning at the corner to head towards the water. Theo followed, a few steps behind.

“I know these streets pretty well because we used to come down here all the time when I was a kid,” said Sophie, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Theo hadn’t slipped too far back. “Have you ever been here?”

“No, but Millie talked about it a lot. There was a house she would stay at all the time: a family friend’s.”

Sophie’s gait remained unperturbed. “And there it is: the divine spark arrives, belatedly. The story takes a poetic turn.”

“I thought that revelation might provoke an apology, or at least some small sign of embarrassment.”

“Why would I apologise? We’re just in some arbitrary town, haunted by the memories of some unimportant cluster of humans to whom you are no longer beholden in any tangible way.”

“I follow your logic, but the body speaks a different language.”

Sophie’s face curled into an abstracted smile. “Yes I know, which is why I’m finding the whole thing more and more amusing.”

Theo quietly sighed. A lot of the time, his friendship with Sophie was like a magazine: beautiful, colourful, unserious. She made him feel like the rest of the world was less important, not because she made him believe in some transcendent force like compassion or love, but because she made space itself seem smaller somehow. When they spent time together, she was quick to remind him by her words and actions that she was omniscient. She remained in complete control of life, that is, the parts of life which she deemed worthy, and in her little world everything was bright and full of blood. Whenever she started speaking, his own life would start to feel like a small injured bird: warm and broken, but portable, mendable.

They reached the beach. Sophie took off her shoes and waded in up to her calves. “I know it’s freezing, but it’s a reflex. It just doesn’t feel right to go to the beach and stay dry.”

Theo sat down on the sand fully clothed and watched from a distance. He let the cold wind lap against him like a hand fruitlessly casting about for a light switch in the dark—I’m right here, he thought. I’ve been here the entire time.

~

As they walked back to the motel, a trace of liveliness could be sensed in the early evening air. A golden glow clouded the windows of the shopfronts on the main street, warm with the honey of summer’s coda.

As they were about to pass the IGA, a short, bearded man got out of a parked white Toyota Corolla embellished with a patina of dirt and a cloud-shaped sticker on the rear windscreen that read, “THE TIME WAS NOW. ACTION NOT WORDS.” As they got closer to the man and his features slipped into focus, Theo realised that it was Joel, Millie’s brother, and he released an involuntary yelp.

Joel turned and they were suddenly face-to-face. “Hey, Theo,” said Joel, eyes wide beneath his thick-framed glasses.

Theo searched Joel’s expression for an indication of how much he knew, but found nothing. The silence was starting to get slightly too long for comfort when Sophie stepped in.

“Joel, meeting you here is perfect. You’re just the right person to help Theo with the break-up. Two emotionally repressed man-children groping about in the cave of life, armed with nothing but limited vocabularies and a few stray facial hairs—it will be beautiful to watch.”

“Break-up? Oh. Oh my god. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Theo’s instinct was to comfort him. “It’s nothing to worry about, really. Time passes, things change, I guess.”

They stood there staring past each other trying to figure out more words to say. After a few seconds, the best Joel could manage was, “I guess so.”

Sophie took over again. “I see why you prefer action, not words. Look, you’re still allowed to be friends. Just don’t think too much about it and it won’t be weird.”

Joel looked at her, his forehead stretched with mild scepticism. “How do you know?”

“This is one of those situations where there are no rules. Any power held by convention has been suspended by the sundering of previously immutable bonds. Anything can happen—nuclear fission, quantum tunnelling, metempsychosis—the time was now! And now is the future! We’re going to be at the pub tonight; drop by if you’re free.”

“Are we?” asked Theo as they walked away.

“Yes. We’re trying to stop you thinking; where else would we go?”

~

Theo had known Joel for a few years before he began seeing Millie. They met at university somewhere amid the blur of introductory science classes and introductory drinking functions. Theo hadn’t kept many friends from that time, but for hard-to-articulate reasons they had continued to both invite and attend each other’s social events over the years. When he and Millie started going out, his friendship with Joel continued its steady, uncomplicated path. They found themselves in each other’s company a little more often, but not much else changed.

“How is it possible that he didn’t know?” Sophie asked Theo as they walked to the pub.

“He’s never been much of a talker, and neither has Millie, at least when it comes to anything deeper than commercial television.” Theo surprised himself with the unexpected cruelty of this remark, which left a coppery taste at the back of his tongue.

“What do the two of you talk about then? I don’t quite understand how you do friendship when you don’t have someone else to handle all the conversation.”

Theo was silent for a moment. “There’s something about just being a regular presence. It’s a bit more of a slow burn, I guess.”

“Sounds like a good way to conserve limited fuel.”

When they got to the pub, Joel was already there having dinner with a woman Theo didn’t recognise.

“There are quite a few tables free on the other side,” said Sophie, leading Theo over to one of them. “I didn’t know Joel was seeing anyone.”

“Neither did I.”

“How pleasant: more fuel. Not that you needed it, considering the wider circumstances. But at least it might be one that’s less volatile.”

Soon after they finished eating, Joel appeared at their table.

“You look really uncomfortable,” said Sophie. “Theo, grab that chair; the man of action needs somewhere to sit. So you have a girlfriend now?”

“Her name is Audrey. Actually, she’s a friend of Millie’s. Someone from her new job.”

Sophie glanced at Theo, who said, “The name rings a bell, but I don’t think I’ve ever met her.”

“She said the same thing,” Joel replied, before pausing and letting his eyes wander briefly across the back wall of the dining room. “She’s definitely heard of you, though.”

“What has she heard?”

“When I told her who you were, she said, ‘Isn’t he Millie’s weird, skinny ex?’”

Sophie giggled.

“I asked her when she found out about it and she said she’s known for a few weeks.”

“We only broke up last week,” said Theo.

“Then I told her we’d been friends for a long time and she thought I was joking. When she realised I wasn’t, the conversation stalled.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “Did anything happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“The break-up. Did you say anything? Do anything?

“Joel, you should know Theo better than to suggest he might ever have behaved with anything resembling volition.”

“It’s just that Audrey seemed a little disturbed.”

Theo suddenly felt the cold sea wind reaching out to him again, feathering the skin of his neck. After a heavy silence, he forced himself to respond. “No, nothing like that. She ended things. I didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly,” Sophie chimed in. “Your Honour, my client was just a hapless bystander in this relationship. And as the saying goeth, he who hath no hap, hath no blame.”

“I see. Well, Audrey says we’ll have to keep Millie away from you.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“For one thing, she can’t come here.”

“To this town?”

“To the pub.”

“She’s here too?”

“Not yet. But she’s driving down after work; she should be here in an hour or so.”

“Hallelujah,” exclaimed Sophie, eyes blazing. “There is a God, and He wants me to be entertained.”

~

Theo woke late in the morning to the sound of distant waves. Herein lay the not-so-secret magic of this town, as well as any number of similar towns in the vicinity: the illusion of peace created by threadbare traffic and benign surf. Sophie was asleep in the middle of the bed, her face buried between the pillows. They had planned to take half each of the double mattress, but Theo hadn’t been able to get comfortable and ended up on the floor.

He’d forgotten to pack any pyjamas so he was already dressed, albeit slightly more dishevelled than usual. He squashed his feet into his old sneakers and slipped outside.

It was too late for breakfast but he didn’t feel hungry or thirsty anyway. The one thing he did feel, however, was an overwhelming urge to move. He relinquished control of his body and let the wind coming in from the sea propel him, more like a plastic bag than a sailboat. This is what he had left the city for, all of this: the wind, the sea, the empty streets, the empty days. He walked quickly and easily, going nowhere in particular. Occasionally he found himself led by the breeze towards the middle of a road or into the arms of a low-hanging pine tree, but as there were no other people or moving cars around he was spared both embarrassment and serious injury.

He had been in motion for what felt like hours when he turned an unremarkable corner and recognised Joel’s car parked on the lawn ahead of him. As he got nearer, his gaze was drawn to the house behind, a double-fronted weatherboard cottage. In the front window, framed by aging lace curtains, he saw the face of Millie, her expression shifting quickly from confusion to indignation. His own body was instantly filled with horror, but somehow his legs continued to move in their rude, mechanical way until the house was no longer in sight. He thought he heard Millie’s voice calling from somewhere behind him but he didn’t turn around.

His body eventually brought him back to the motel but Sophie wasn’t there. When he got inside the room he collapsed onto the bed face first, then immediately shrieked in agony as various muscles in his legs spasmed and cramped. He managed gradually to push himself back onto his feet in order to stretch against the wall and eventually the fires in his legs burnt themselves out, leaving behind hard, grey coal.

Theo checked his phone and saw that he had a new message from Joel: What the hell are you doing? He noticed that the previous message in their correspondence had been sent almost two months ago, also by Joel. It read, You know how she is with change. How do you think she’ll respond? He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t replied, but perhaps he’d been unsure whether the note of sarcasm he detected in Joel’s question was intentional or only a projection of Theo’s own insecurities. At the time he had been considering a big move, away from Melbourne, to an entirely different country in fact, but the idea had dissolved before he'd figured out what he was going to say to Millie. He had always found it difficult to act with consideration for others; at the best of times, he found it difficult to act at all.

The door opened and Sophie appeared, her face flushed with anger. Theo waited for the usual quip, insult, or koan, but she remained strangely silent. He watched her for a few more seconds until finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. “I guess you were right: things don’t really work when there’s no one else to do the talking for me.”

Sophie glared at him, then relented. “Maybe you should do something about that. Just walking around doesn’t seem to be an effective strategy for you either. I can’t always follow along and clean up whatever mess you leave behind.”

“Did something happen?”

“She punched me.”

“Millie?”

“Audrey. I finally caught up to you and I was trying to get your attention when all three of them just appeared. I didn’t have time to say anything. She came up to me and popped me right in the face.”

“Did you hit her back?”

“Are you serious? Of course not. I just ran, trying to get away from them before the tears came.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You should be. I’m pretty sure that fist was meant for you.”

“Maybe we should go back.”

“To Melbourne?”

“Where else?”

“I know this was meant to be your weekend, but if I hadn’t taken charge you’d still be in Melbourne somewhere, probably sleeping in a park, or maybe my couch if you were lucky. But just when I was enjoying the scene that had been constructed, and all the little puppets were lined up nicely, one of them went and punched me. And with a human-sized fist too.”

“That wasn’t part of your script?”

“I just wanted to get you and Millie in the same room somehow.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“I wanted you to see what you both looked like when stripped of context. Getting out of Melbourne was a good idea, but getting you both out of Melbourne was even better.”

“I don’t think we’re getting back together.”

“And you would be even more certain if you had actually talked to her.”

Theo’s phone buzzed again. “It’s Joel. I don’t know if I should pick up.”

“You can decide later. I just want to get out of here.”

The road they took started off narrow then widened as it cut into the flesh of the country. At first the ocean wind hurried them along, but it soon began to weaken before being replaced by a dusty rain. As Sophie drove on, Theo looked at his phone and decided that another month or two between messages from Joel wouldn’t be a bad idea. For one thing, it might give Joel a better chance with Audrey.

He looked over at Sophie, whose cheek was looking quite swollen. “I’m sorry about everything. If you feel the need to make things even, you could probably have me arrested at the next police station.”

“I’ve already called ahead,” she replied, smirking.

“If you want to get me there, the first thing you should do is keep your eyes on the road.”

“What’s the point? I don’t know where it leads anyway.”

“Fair enough,” said Theo. “Just not Melbourne, right?”

Sophie’s hands didn’t leave the wheel as the car slid past damp livestock and lonely trees, silent witnesses to their escape from the surf and the city. As Theo watched her hands he could feel everything else quietening. He reached over as if to put his hand on hers then raised it instead to his face to shield against the sun, which all of a sudden had started to break through the clouds. It burned through the windscreen like a flare so that as they drove towards it neither of them could see very much at all.