The Big Run-Off (Holden Burke #1)

Twenty-One

I didn't know what to do. I was driving home, but didn't know where home was anymore. There was an empty flat with my name on the lease across town, but somehow the thought of it felt alien to me. It was nothing but some kind of forbidden zone, empty of emotion, and empty of comfort.

I thought maybe of stopping somewhere, but where? It was as if I didn't belong anywhere at all. That was when I realised suddenly that in my wallet I still had the five hundred dollars that Mitchell Ramsey had paid me to witness a murder. I thought of it, and it felt dirty. Samuel Pearson's death had been bought for five hundred dollars, and I was the recipient. I wanted to open my window and let the five bills flutter away in the wind to be gone from me forever. But I didn't do that. For some reason, and without any kind of measurable thought sparking through my head, I stopped my car at the closest jewelry store I could find and spent the fastest five hundred dollars I ever had.

I drove on, and on; forever, it felt. My car would never stop. I would never be still. The world would never stop rushing past my window.

But I did stop, eventually. I got out of the car, walked up the footpath, and knocked on the front door of the cute suburban A-frame in front of me.

When I saw Jake's surprised face open the door, I felt like I was home. I was full again.

'Holden...'

'Hi, Jake.'

He was about to say something, but shook his head, and stepped aside. I went inside.

'Is your mum home?' I asked.

'No, she's out. What's this about?'

'I just wanted to see you. I needed to.'

I was surprised to see that Jake had his hair tied back and I could see the long brownish scar above his eyebrow. I was even more surprised that he didn't untie his hair and hide it, as he usually did to others. He came closer to me, but for some reason I couldn't look into his eyes. They were too naked, too pure; I felt like I was seeing into something that could see me, really see me in a way that nothing else ever could, and it made me feel vulnerable.

'Did everything go alright?' I asked.

Jake nodded.

'Where did he stay?'

'In my room—I had the couch. It was alright, though. He's a good kid. I'm glad he's okay.'

I smiled and nodded. 'He's okay. It's all over now, Jake.'

Jake was still looking at me with gentle concern.

I took a thought and said, 'I've been thinking about a lot lately.' Words were falling out of my mouth like the breaking of a dam, but I tried hard to keep them in order. 'Everything has been making me think about myself, and about you, and about the two of us together. You're very important to me, Jake. You're probably the most important thing in my life. And I want you to know that.'

I took the ring out of my pocket and put it in his hand. I couldn't look at his face. I just wandered across the room with my muscles tensing in anxiousness like pegs of steel rebar and waited for him to make a sound. There must have been a whole minute of silence.

'What is this, Holden?' he said at last.

I heard my voice say, 'I think we should get married.'

There was another silence. Then Jake made a sound, but I couldn't tell what kind of sound. Just an involuntary sound. Air through his mouth, almost silent. It could've meant anything.

'Listen, Jake,' I said. 'All the past week has made me realise is that everything degrades. Everything. Gold degrades, wealth degrades, people degrade, feelings degrade, meaning degrades, life degrades...Nothing is permanent. Everything changes and vanishes and gets lost in degradation, and eventually its like what was once there, and what was once the most important thing in the world, is just gone, and we can never get it back again. But, to me, it's you that's the most important thing in the world. I don't want you to be gone. I don't want us to degrade. I know we have our problems, and it's going to be hard to work ourselves back together—but the way I feel about you is too important to just let degrade like everything else. If I can hold onto it for as long as I can, I will. I have to. And I want you to let me. Because I love you, Jake.'

I ran out of words. We were silent. I finally forced myself to look at him, and couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was blank, and his eyes forward. He was looking somewhere I couldn't see. The gold band was moving across the tips of his fingers, like it was thinking for him; the corners of his lips seemed like they were raised, and his eyebrows were curved, and his mouth parted a little, and he sat as if in a trance in the nearest armchair; silent, curious, beautiful.

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