Again it's backstory heavy and I feel it's time to just jump into some action, so the next part will be fairly speedy. I think overall, once I've finished the story, I may have to rearrange some of these opening chapters as my initial layout is pretty lax on action. But that's all part of the learning experience.
Hope you enjoy.
- 4 -
Part 1 of 2
A hunched figure sat guard on the porch of the old colonial homestead, he sat watch as the sun rose across the plains. Ray Douglas watched the shadows swim across the red earth, moving and dipping through small drifts of sand. The wind moved the sand quietly and the shadows plays amongst the drifts.
Ray looked out, deep into the scrub and bushland that filled the quiet property. He watched as the shadows of the clouds moved along the ground. The orange tinted burn of the clouded golden sky caused Ray to breathe calmly, he felt warmth in the glow of the sun.
The land before him faded in and out of view as his eyes drooped and sprang back open. Sleep didn't come easy to men like Ray. The dangers of sleep were fresh in his mind as he recalled the nightmares his mind would create. But sleep was upon him now and his nightmares burst forth into his waking life.
The dust and dirt of the reddened earth swirled violently and Ray saw droplets of blood in the sand. He trained his tired eyes on an old burnt and dead tree far in the distance. As the sun rose, Ray saw the tree shimmer and sway. The dance of the tree turned violent as it jerked readily under his gaze.
Ray shifted his vision onto a rabbit that appeared near the horizon. The hare stood rigid, petrified at being seen in the light. Waves of terror rolled from the rabbit and Ray absorbed its fear. His thoughts wandered to Burgess and the rabbit darted violently away, dodging imaginary bullets as it went.
Maybe the bullets were imaginary, Ray thought. Maybe they were all imaginary. Burgess would never have shot the kid. Ray had killed him for nothing.
What had he heard about Burgess anyway? Was there any reason to shoot him? Ray knew nothing of the man. He had only spent about an hour with him and they said little to each other in that time.
Burgess had said nothing in the last hour of his life.
Had he? Ray couldn't tell anymore. His imagination ran wild when he remembered anything. His mind ran through every possible scenario hundreds of times every day. He remembered every detail of Burgess but he couldn't trust the memories. There was not truth anymore, there was no real answer. Of the three people who witnessed the scene; one was a drunk, one was never identified and one was dead. There was no justice that night, and no chance of redemption.
Ray released a heavy sigh. He needed a drink.
He had the taste back, after a year sober. For that whole year, when he lived with Jack, working on the farm, he never thought of alcohol. Until everything came crashing down, Ray never even wanted to drink. Now he needed the stuff. It wasn't even a matter of want now, he needed it. How easily his body remembered his old ways.
What brought it back? Ray knew the answer.
It was Rachel.
It wasn't her fault, of course. He could see that, but the memory of her shut him down. But how could he even trust the memory of his sister. He had killed a man, and he had no idea how it happened. Ray felt it impossible to know for sure what Rachel meant to him anymore.
She was always very smart as a child, he knew that. He remembered going to her High School graduation just after he himself had graduated from the Police Academy. She wore a broad grin on her delicate features as she spotted him standing at the back of the auditorium. Ray never got a high school graduation, he was expelled earlier.
Ray held his head in his hands as a flood of bad memories drifted through his head. After being refused bail by his parents for a vicious assault, Ray managed to avoid a jail sentence if he cleaned himself up.
Ray's hands eased off of his head as he allowed the memories to flow, cautiously at first. The court had organised for his rehabilitation. Ray remembered living in a halfway house for juvenile offenders. He spent his eighteenth birthday sober.
The memories and images flowed easily now and Ray invited them in. He completed his certificate of education and his social work certificate. Ray remembered living and working with other kids like himself.
Ray's face twitched and his mouth shifted as he let in the deluge of past experiences.
He hadn't seen or heard from his family for a few years after he was arrested. The halfway house wasn't entirely the court's idea. Ray's parents abandoned him. But Rachel found out where he was and she called him the night of her first day at High School.
Seated on the porch of the old house, in the middle of the countryside, Ray Douglas released a wave of pressure. His shoulders relaxed and he could feel each and every muscle of his body contract and generously release.
Ray's mouth formed the slightest smile as he began to know his sister.
He had always loved it when she called him. She called him asking for advice about High School, there was a new problem every week or so it seemed to him. But the sudden and unexpected realisation made Ray tremble.
Rachel was calling to see how he was. She was scared for her big brother. The issues that seemed so real to Ray at the time were just made up, just an excuse for her to hear him; not yelling, not breaking things, not hurting anybody.
She cared for him.
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