Monster

Warning. Theme of Violence.

In the past, a special bond often formed between children who celebrated their birthdays on the same day, marking not just a date on the calendar but an immediate happy bond that only children can do well at. But as adults, sharing the same birthday might bring a smile, maybe cause a temporary connection but we move on.

Life feels pretty grim as I now confront the haunting reality that two people I have known for most of my life now share the same death day. My sister and Matthew, a boy I grew up with, both passed away on the same night of September 5.

For the past 40 years, I have occasionally seen Matthew wearing his beloved, worn and torn red and white baseball cap. Although I'm sure he didn't own the same cap his entire life, he has likely replaced it many times, always choosing a similar style. He always had that familiar smile of squashed, blushed chubby cheeks and teeth bigger than his lips. To those who did not know him, it might have looked like a silly grin—a childish, vulnerable smile that seemed easy to exploit—rather than an expression of genuine authenticity.

A friend, Aaron, informed me of his untimely death, and the news struck me cold. Aaron said, "He simply laid down for a nap and didn't wake up." I sat in the soft armchair, still in my pyjamas, trying to process the news. Mindlessly, I wandered to the fridge, plated a thick slice of creamed jam roll, and slowly took bites as I returned to the lounge chair.

"Want some?" I offered.

"No, thanks," Aaron replied.

"Would you like a cuppa?"

"Got something stiffer?"

"Yeah." I put my half-eaten cake on the coffee table, then returned with a whisky bottle and a glass, along with more cake.

Aaron pointed at the cake and said, "Great breakfast."

I gestured at him as he poured the tumbler full. "As if you can talk?"

Aaron tapped the cake with his glass

and said, "To Matthew..."

I repeated with reverence. "To Matthew..."

At that moment, two vivid memories surfaced in my mind. I felt uneasy as if I was being transported back in time to something I had completely forgotten. The first date went way back to when I was 12 years old and Matthew was 16. He was the Sunday school teacher for our pre-teens group. I veiwed, as if floating, that I was instead on an old metal and wooden school seat. I saw my old friends, Lisa, Mary, Kathy and Peter. We were under a school building. It was a hot day but we sat in the shade. I wore a white linen dress below my knees with sweet capped sleeves edged in lace. Matthew leaned towards me, the Bible open in his hands, and in that moment, he said something but I cannot hear the words. A warm light seemed to shone between us. Then I felt a tear happening in my gut, the tear of death, the same indescribable destructive fire I felt burn when my sister died. An understanding overwhelmed me as I realized that the moment, something was said deep from his soul to mine. But could I remember what he said? No. I hurt that I did not value or even recognise the significance of that moment. I had taken life for granted not realised its sanctity!

Then as a tear dropped from my eye, I travelled to a second memory. I was a 22-year-old single mother. I was sitting in a food court near the base of a travellator. I saw that familiar hat, but no smile. Matthew's eyes were nowhere. His large, gentle hands were not holding onto the rail but partially stuck in the air and awkwardly clenched. His presence was heavy with tension. I felt myself standing up. His voice shook, "I have been branded a monster!"

I looked at the younger, shyer me and realised, those days I did not ask questions. I was surprised to view myself as a very good listener. He blurted, "I am not allowed to work, I have been stood down because I am accused of beating a client in my care." I could feel a pit in my stomach. I could feel his pain. I knew deep down that he was innocent. I had seen the softness of his soul, the way he wore his heart on his sleeve, trusting too easily in a world that could be cruel and told him so. My shoulder was wet, as cried.

***

As I returned, my hand clutched the dense cake, almost squashing it, I mumbled, "Do you remember when Matthew had those allegations against him Aaron?" Aaron responded with a questioning."No!"

"I thought everybody knew!" I said, followed by an unexpected burp. "Excuse me," I added.

Aaron, familiar with my emotional eating, didn't flinch or judge. Instead, he refilled his tumbler. "Do you want some?"

"Share your germs? Are you kidding?

Aaron redacted, "Yer sorry, I'll get you a glass. When did that happen?"

"1989," I said loudly.

He yelled from the kitchen, "No, I lived in England then! Remember, I was with Sophie for three years."

"Oh yeah, Sophie," I moaned.

Aaron handed me a full glass, which i guzzled down to dull my senses. "You know Matthew lacked the deep-seated darkness typically associated with someone capable of such harming a person."

Confused, Aaron asked, "Was he under investigation?"

I nodded and added, "Yes, and I believe that was the trigger for his health issues, which ultimately led to the stroke that killed him."

Aaron then inquired, "So what happened? Did he get exonerated?"

"It was left as unsubstantiated for years. No one knew who was to blame." I replied.

Aaron agreed, "Yep, back then, there were no surveillance cameras to provide proof—just his word against the swirling rumors."

"Aha," I interjected.

Aaron continued, "I bet in this town, only whispers filled with suspicion circulated."

"Hmm, yes. The invasive scrutiny we know all too well regarded him with mistrust. It crushed him and made him retreat."

Sadness covered both our faces as we remembered Matthews's smile.

"Poor Matt, I didn't know."

"Yes, his life sank into murky waters. His wife aged, and they eventually moved out of town."

"Away from prying eyes, I bet?"

I tilted my glass towards Aaron.

He asked wryly, "Would you like some more?"

I nodded and continued, "It turned out to be a relative. They had taken the young man on a day trip. His father had got angry at his son and beaten him with a belt. They returned the young man to the government house after dark in his PJ's and Dressing gown saying he had washed and eaten. The bruises were discovered the following morning and reported. The family accused the staff and that turnef out to be Matthewwho had just worked that night shift."

"Man thats heavy! When the government find out the truth?"

"Aaron, it was ten years later, after the father had died. His wife, wanting to relieve her conscience, confessed to a priest, who helped her report the incident to the Department of Disability Services."

"I suppose that was a positive outcome, Angy."

"Yeah, he was able to work as a caregiver again. But you know, when he was accused, I saw him—his hands were twisted with anxiety, and that trauma never fully left his body. It seemed to deepen as he got older, eventually becoming concealed beneath those gloves. he wore"

"Yeah, when I saw him at church sitting in the pew last summer and he did have gloves on, he said, 'It was in the family.' But no one ever anticipated that he would pass away."

"Mmm"

Suddenly, I was back in time again, it was Twenty years ago, I vividly remember sitting in my usual seat on the 5:30 AM train. The train stopped at Goodna, and all the familiar faces boarded. However, one face that was usually full of life looked oddly sad. Her hair, which normally bounced with springing ringlets, now sagged. She sat right in front of me, and at the next stop, a work colleague boarded. He halted when he noticed her grim expression.

“Harry left me for another woman and wants half the house,” she said despondently.

“Jennie, I’m so sorry,” he replied.

My mind came back to present time as Aaron flushed the tiolet. I thought of last week. Yes, her name was Jennie and I saw her disembark on that same platform last Monday. Her body seemed as heavy as cement, grey and devoid of vitality. She looked alone, wearing old clothes and walking slowly.

I reflected on the trauma costs experienced by Jennie and Matthew. It seems that sometimes things driven by malicious intent can alter the very fabric of life. At that time, we, along with others, may not have fully grasped the impact of those events. We mourned not only for Matthew but for the theft of his life energy that brought about his premature death.