Page 17 of Edge

CHAPTER NINE

Jory

I think ofhim a lot. About the little brother he was before he got sick. We’dgo down to the river and skip stones. He could never get the rightflick of the wrist to make it jump more than a couple of times.Lark was a great kid, and I should’ve fought harder to get himtreatment. Mum and Dad were so fucking sure about their version ofthings. Huh. Look how that turned out. 12 August 2019

One of Jory’s littlepleasures was going to the cinema. When he’d been a kid, his dadhad been a great film aficionado, sharing his knowledge of oldfilms and the acting world with aplomb to two eager little boys whosoaked it up. Jory and Lark had looked forward to the Saturdaytreat of time with Dad, as he was away a great deal due to his jobas a pharmaceutical rep. It meant popcorn bags laced with salt orsugar—Jory was salt, Lark was sugar—jelly babies, and copiousquantities of soft drink. Their mum hadn’t allowed them to drinktoo much at home since it made them both hyperactive, but on aSaturday in the theatre with Dad, it wasn’t aconsideration.

Sitting huddled up on oneside of his dad—he and Lark weren’t allowed to sit together as theytended to distract people with their whispered conversations aboutwhat was going to happen next—munching on popcorn, and watching anew world unfold in front of them had been a dream. When they’dbeen a bit older and were allowed to venture out to the films ontheir own, he and Lark had occasionally taken a great forbiddenpleasure in sneaking into the film without paying. They’d sharedthis naughty secret between them, grinning at each other insatisfaction as the movie credits rolled up.

Then Lark had died andthe entire world went to shit.

As Jory sat in his wornseat now at The Animus cinema, poignant and painful reminders ofpast days hit him like a slap in the face.

As the film finished andthe room grew dark, he watched as people departed the screeningroom, and when the place was empty, he sighed heavily and picked uphis cap from his lap. Shoving it onto his head and pulling it downacross his eyes, he left for the brightness of the entrance, whichwas already milling with people ready to see the next show. Hesquinted and looked around. Huh. No Damian today. Jory felt a pangof disappointment and resigned himself: he wouldn’t see his cutenerd today.

Wait. WTF?Since when did this guy become my cute nerd?

“You looklost, son. Anything I can help you with?” A man in his sixties,with curling grey hair and kind eyes, smiled at him as Joryturned.

“Nah, onlyobserving. Thanks for asking though.” The man’s eyes weretwinkling, Jory was sure, and he felt discomfited, as if this manknew him. That was impossible. Jory knew they’d never metbefore.

“Hmm, wouldyou perhaps be looking for my nephew? He’s been in the productionbooth trying to repair some machinery up there. He’s a bit of awhiz with all things mechanical.”

Jory frowned. “Wait aminute. Are you Damian’s uncle?”

The man grinned and heldout a hand. “I am. Dave Foyle is the name. Pleased to meetyou.”

Jory was confused as heshook hands. “Have we met before? I get the feeling you know who Iam.”

Dave snorted. “Lad, Iwasn’t born under a bloody bushel. I watch the music channels andI’m well aware of who you are, Edge.”

Jory cleared his throat.“Oh, okay. Sorry, I didn’t think that would be the case. I meanyou’re a little old—” He stopped with a blush, realising how rudethose words might sound. He’d wanted to say Dave was a little olderthan his usual fan demographic.

Dave laughed loudly.“Being older doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate good music.” He lookedat Jory appraisingly. “You have a great voice and your lyrics hitdeep.”

“Oh, wow,thanks.” Jory was used to praise but coming from this man—Damian’suncle—made him feel all squiggly warm inside. “I’m glad you get it.I tend to write quite dark stuff.”

Dave cocked his head. “Weall have dark places where we hold our secrets.” His eyes softenedas he regarded Jory. “Judging from some of your words, I thinkyou’ve been in a truly bad place at some stage.”

Jory swallowed. He wasn’tready for such perception from a stranger. Best to do what he didbest and deflect. “So you said Damian’s fixing stuff? Is he into itthen?”

Dave barked a laugh.“Into it? He loves it. His dad was a motorhead and Damian picked itup from him. He and motorbikes are a pain in my arse. There’salways bike parts being delivered and the living room often lookslike a secondhand bike shop.” His words were fond, but Jory’s mindwas in a much dirtier place, picturing Damian, his cute,glass-wearing geek, astride a motorbike. He might have those tightbike leathers too.

“Earth toJory?” Dave sounded amused. “You looked like a kid realising thecircus had arrived in town.”

Jory flushed. “I wasthinking Damian didn’t seem the sort to ride a motorbike. He’sso…”

“Geeky?” Davechuckled. “The boy’s an anomaly, for sure. I bet he hasn’t told youabout his love of Brazilian jujitsu either. He’s a blue belt, andpretty lethal.” He winked.

Jory swore his jeans grewtighter. His geeky nerd sounded like a real badass. He’d seen thesport on the telly with all its grappling and close contact, andhe’d often wondered how guys didn’t get a hard-on. Huh. He couldask Damian about it.

He shook his mind out ofthe gutter, feeling like a pervert. “Wow, he’s multi-talented. Uhm,where did you say he was?”

Dave gestured to a set ofsteel stairs on the outside of the building. “Up there. I’m surehe’ll be pleased to see you.” Again with the wink, and Jorywondered uncomfortably whether Uncle Dave knew more about him thansimply being Edge. The man seemed quite amused by something. Halfof Jory was a little worried, the other half slightly buzzed Damianmay have mentioned him.

He wandered up thebattered stairs towards the projection room. As he neared the top,there was the distinct sound of cursing coming from behind a largepiece of machinery.

“Motherfucker,why won’t you go in? Bitch, I am so going to be the winner here.You’re nothing but a bit of stupid metal.”