Looking for Bianca: a short story

Looking for Bianca

  A short story

  By Alexandra Davies

  Copyright 2014 Alexandra Davies

  EPUB format ISBN: 9781311113856

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please support original fiction by encouraging your friends to download their own copy from an authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  Acknowledgements

  While the characters and events in this story are fictional, the garden described in the story and shown on the cover is a real place and well worth a visit. I hope I have done Giardino Giusti justice.

  Thanks go out to my fellow students at Edith Cowan University and my friends Hayley, Dan and Amy for their feedback on drafts of both the story and the cover.

  Looking for Bianca

  Tara compelled herself to look into the coffin. It was easier than she imagined; the face made up in gaudy lipstick and heavy eye shadow seemed like someone else's. Tara felt an urge to dig her fingernail into the thickly layered foundation and gouge out a chunk. Instead, she kissed the tips of her fingers then touched them to her sister’s marble-cold cheek.

  After the open casket there was a procession to the crematorium chapel, and later an assembly line of people, clad in dark clothes and somber faces, offering sympathetic clichés to Tara and her mother. For Tara, those events held no more shape or color than fading wisps of smoke, so that while she knew they happened, she couldn’t call them memories.

  Some things she did remember. During the service, she felt ashamed that she could not control the sobs erupting from a place under her ribs. The force that shook her body vibrated along the pew, where other people felt it under their seated bottoms. In front of her, at the end of the service, the conveyor belt started with a violent jerk. It rolled her sister’s white coffin away, feet first, through a curtain on the left, and off to join the other coffins waiting until there were enough to warrant firing up the furnace.

  ~~

  “Well, I think she looks good. Considering she’s just had her second,” said Kate.

  Maree snorted into her skinny latte. “Better than after the first baby, you mean? That wouldn’t be hard.”

  Kate’s cackle soured the taste of Tara’s coffee. She put her cup down and picked up the biscotti from her saucer. She looked at it as she turned it over in her hand.

  “Bianca! Mom said only one cookie.”

  Bianca had opened the family assorted pack. She’d already eaten a scotch finger cookie and was taking a second cookie – chocolate, Tara’s favorite.

  Bianca frowned. “I know, but it isn’t fair!” she said. “I feel mean to the other cookies.”

  Tara looked at her sister’s face, trying to see if this was a trick. “Why?”

  “It’s not their fault I like the scotch fingers best. Who's going to eat the other ones? I have to eat every kind or they'll be left out and I’ll feel sad!” Bianca screwed up her face tightly.

  “What’s your worst one?” Tara said. “I’ll have that one.”

  Bianca handed Tara a ginger snap with a smile that made Tara not mind what flavor her cookie was.

  “Tara?”

  The intrusion pulled her back to the table. Kate and Maree were both looking at her.

  “Are you ok?” Maree asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Tara said. She picked up her coffee and tossed the rest of it into her mouth, flooding her throat. She gulped. “I was just thinking that I need to talk to Mom about something.” She gave her friends a closed-mouth smile. “I’d better go, heaps to do today.”

  She stood up quickly, blew one kiss at the two women and scuttled out of the café.

  ~~

  Tara had no intention of calling her mom that day. Tara had lost a sister, her mom had lost a daughter, and neither knew what to say.

  She decided to go for a run. She headed west into the late afternoon sun, punching one foot down and another foot down with each breath in, and the same again with each breath out. When she thought about giving up, she imagined a crowd of people cheering her on, Bianca at the front waving: “You can do it, Tara! Go Tara!” It helped her keep the rhythm going. “It’s just my mind that wants me to stop”, she told herself. “My body is fine. I can keep going.”

  When she finally thought about turning around, she realized she was lost. She stopped next to a sagging wire fence, half-heartedly keeping people out of an abandoned warehouse. The street lights were flickering on. She put the last fiery embers of the sunset behind her and hoped she could find her way home before the darkness arrived.

  ~~

  Tara’s work was slipping. She forgot to get approvals from the Finance Director for her month-end reports before submitting them to Corporate; two reports were missing crucial information and one had a number of miscalculations. Her boss stopped her on her way out.

  “Tara, is everything okay?”

  She looked at her shoes, noticing the scuff marks on the toes. She shrugged. “I’m okay. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “Listen, why don’t you take a break, maybe get away somewhere? You’ve got so much leave accrued and it’d probably do you good. Have a think about it.” She looked up. She expected him to wink – he always winked – but he only nodded once at her and walked away.

  ~~

  On the bus home that evening, Tara saw two kids riding together on a bike, one pedaling and a smaller one hanging on tight, arms wrapped around the rider. She remembered being small, before she could ride herself.

  “Where are you going, Binky?”

  “To the park. Wanna come?”

  Tara nodded. “Jump on behind me, come on.” Bianca helped her up onto the bike's long seat. “Hold onto me, okay?” Tara hugged her sister tight.

  They rode down the path behind the house and Tara hoped some of her school friends would see her. They passed two older boys who yelled out some things Tara didn’t understand. Bianca turned and whispered, “Don’t listen to them. They’re stupid boys.”

  The two of them hopped off the bike to push it up the big hill. At the top, Bianca told Tara to get back on behind her and they coasted down the other side, Spokey Dokes rattling in the wheels.

  Tara broke off her daydreaming. Her mouth was watering from clenching her teeth too tight. She could feel a bubble trapped in her chest, stopping her from filling up her lungs with air. The bus seemed to be shrinking.

  Although it wasn’t her stop, Tara pressed the bell. The cool evening air outside was a relief. Tara walked the last fifteen minutes home, watching her feet step on the sidewalk. She longed to see Bianca. Before she could stop it, the phone call came into sharp focus in her mind and she heard the words again: “Bianca was in a car accident. She didn’t make it. She’s dead, Tara.” The bubble pushed against her ribs and she walked faster.

  After she had closed herself safely into her house, she felt the bubble in her chest burst, its shards slashing into her from her gut to her throat. She got down on her knees, covered her face with her hands, and scrunched forward until she had made herself small. She cried out, starting a flood of sobbing which made her body heave against the floor. She wished herself closer to the floor, imagined herself sinking through it, leaving behind a lifeless heap of body parts and clothes. She thought she would never be able to get up again unless someone came to help her.

  Nobody came. After a time, when she was quiet and nearly empty, she pulled herself up as if she were a marionette, limb by limb. She shuffled to the kitchen. She took a wine glass and a full bottle of red to the living room and put the television on as loud
as she could bear it.

  ~~

  That night Tara dreamt of the first time she had been dumped by a wave at the beach, when she was five. Her legs were yanked out from under her, pulling her down into the water, and she was tumbled and twisted like a sock in a washing machine. Underwater, the sound of the surging wave thundered against her ears. She opened her eyes and saw sand churning in the water. She couldn’t see which way was up and was convinced she was going to die, but then her feet found the ground, the water washed away and she stood up, exhausted, relieved and ready to cry. On the beach she could see her mother hiding her laughter behind her hand and Bianca standing up next to her, open-mouthed. Little Tara bundled her tears up into a ball in her chest.

  ~~

  “Tell me, what brought you here today?” The counselor smiled kindly at Tara.

  “I – my sister died a month ago. I’m having … some trouble coping.” Tara's words wobbled out. She looked down at her fingers twisting her bracelet round and round her wrist. “I’ve always been so steady. Bianca was the emotional one. Now she’s gone, I feel lost.”

  “I’m sorry about your sister. That must be difficult. Do you think it’s normal to feel emotional after such a big loss?”

  Tara frowned. “Of course. I think anyone would have a hard time.” She looked down at her hands again, still twisting the bracelet. “But I think I need some help. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Okay. We can talk about that. We can also talk about the grieving process. You know, it can be pretty slow for most people. Have you allowed yourself some time to heal?”

  Tara didn’t want to lose her balance so she kept quiet and shook her head.

  ~~

  Later, at home, Tara sat on her sofa looking at the photo on her bookcase of Bianca. She stood smiling in the sunshine in an Italian garden, next to a stone bird bath in the middle of a hedge maze, a dozen different greens playing out in the crisscross of shadows. Far behind her was a villa with salmon pink walls, the paint flaking gracefully. Tara had always thought it looked like a painting.

  “Oh Tars, it was amazing! Like the Secret Garden – remember how we used to make Mom read that to us? It’s beautifully manicured with a maze and statues, and then up the back it’s wild and overgrown. There’s a weird stone monster face and I found a hidden spiral staircase that took me up to a walkway with vines and then a gazebo where I could see all the way out over Verona. It was magic!”

  Tara had wanted to visit Italy since her grade school Italian classes. She reached for her laptop, opened it and typed ‘visit garden Verona’ in the search bar.

  ~~

  Two weeks later, traveling alone on a plane full of people, Tara watched the on-screen map showing their progress towards Italy. There was no need to do anything but sit in the humming plane. She pulled out the copy of the photo of Bianca she had tucked into the back of her book and looked at it. An image of her sister in the ice cream store in her pajamas and slippers flashed into Tara’s mind.

  “Binky, come on! He was a loser and you know it. I’m glad he’s taken off because you deserve better.”

  They were sitting on Bianca’s bed. Tara had left work early when Bianca called in tears. Bianca sniffed and pulled the quilt up to her chin. “If he’s a loser and I’m so great, then how come it was him that dumped me?” She pouted.

  A lock of hair fell loose from Bianca’s messy ponytail. Tara brushed it off her sister’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Because,” she said, “he knew it was a grave injustice to let you settle for him. That or he’s too daft to know what he’s giving up. I know it hurts, but he’s set you free.”

  Bianca squeezed her eyes shut tight. “No, I’m never going to make someone happy! I’m the loser!” She thumped her fist down on the bed.

  Tara stood up. She pointed firmly at her sister. “Don’t you dare talk about my sister like that or I’ll steal all your shoes and wear them in the mud. Especially your red stilettos.” Bianca smiled. Tara yanked the end of the quilt so it flew off Bianca. “Come on. We need ice cream. Let’s go.”

  “Only if I can go in my pajamas.”

  Tara paused, then picked up Bianca’s slippers and threw them at her. “Fine, but put these on.”

  Bianca got out of bed.

  ~~

  The entrance to Giardino Giusti wasn’t particularly promising. The ornate cast-iron light shade hanging from dark beams did nothing to brighten the faded yellow walls. Tara felt nervous as she walked towards the three archways opening onto the garden.

  She stepped out. The small stones crunched under her shoes. The dark green hedges laid out neatly in front of her were dotted with white statues of men and women, rising up tall in their poses. Giant topiary baubles balanced on the hedges and tall skinny conifers speared the sky. For a moment Tara was Alice, stepping into the garden of the Queen of Hearts. She closed her eyes to enjoy the European sunshine brushing her skin.

  Tara wandered the garden, looking for the villa from the photo of Bianca. She noticed an overgrown path disappearing into the shadows, promising something, and she went to it. The shade was cool after the midday sun, but the closeness of the trees settled on her shoulders like a blanket. She drew in the damp, earthy scent in deep breaths. She followed the secluded path as it led her past benches for daydreaming and alongside a small hill that doubled as a wall to the garden. She came upon a stone face protruding from the hillside – an angry, grotesque face, baring its sharp teeth at Tara. A white balustrade sat atop its face like a crown, oversized and mocking. She made a face at the monster, mirroring its expression, laughed out loud and continued on the path.

  When she reached a dead end, she turned around, deflated, but something she saw out of the corner of her eye made her look back. The spiral staircase! She raced up the winding steps, coming out into the vine-covered walkway Bianca had told her about. Tara glided through the dappled light of the walkway, the sounds of the city filtering up through the leaves.

  She arrived at the terrace, leaned against the balustrade – the monster’s crown – and looked out over the ancient city. She thought about Bianca once standing in that same spot, with that same view. Tara wondered if her sister also felt herself opening out into it, her heart skipping through the nearby branches, diving down into the river, galloping through the cobbled streets then up over the hazy treetops beyond, and expanding into the blue sky. Tara felt tears pooling in her eyes and she gently wiped them away.

  Tara stayed there, looking, for a long time. When the sun raised its hat in farewell to the day, she made her way out of the garden. It was a long way home, but she knew where she was going.

  ###

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