A Reason to Exist

Chapter 5

'Good girl, a small sacrifice for your health,' mum said when she saw my hair the next morning. 'I'll take you to the hairdressers Thursday night as you can't go around like that. It's uneven at the back. I'll organise an organic treatment and a cut. At least you came to your senses. I know you're a clever girl, despite everything. Pancakes?'

'Sure,' I said, sitting down at the kitchen bench, feeling ordinary again with my dull blonde hair.

'I'll need you both dressed and ready by 11am,' mum said, whisking the buckwheat pancake mixture in a large glass bowl. 'The film crew are coming back and we're doing an episode in the garden. I'd like the two of you in the video. We'll get you both walking around the veggie patch, picking cucumbers and tomatoes for a discussion about pickling and chutneys. I'll be talking about how the garden can be used for healing.'

I hated being in mum's videos. It was embarrassing.

'I'm supposed to meet Zuri at the skate park,' I said, trying to mask my I-don't-want-to-do-it whine.

'Ivan is going to Japan for two months, so we have to do extra videos this weekend to make sure I have enough episodes to release over the next two months. It's put a huge amount of pressure on me to come up with content for that many videos. This is one small thing you can do for me. I do so much for you. Call Zuri and tell her you'll meet her there this afternoon.' Mum put the whisker down on the bench and narrowed her eyes at me. 'You're wearing your helmet all the time aren't you? Did I tell you about Bernadette's son? He ended up with his teeth through his lip and concussion. If he hadn't been wearing his helmet he'd be dead.'

'You've told me that story fifty times.'

'Couldn't you just go to the movies or something?' mum asked. 'Why do you always have to go to the skate park?'

'You can hardly even skate,' Tate said, holding a banana up to his mouth because mum's food always takes so long to make. 'You're a skater groupie. You just want to hang out with the guys.'

'I am not,' I said. 'I can skate. It's just everyone around here tells me I'm going to injure myself.'

'That's not true. I'm just reminding you to stay safe. Someone was telling me about a neck brace they bought for their BMX-riding son. He wears it under his t-shirt.'

'Muuuuuum!'

'All right,' she drew in a deep breath. 'I battle with this. You know I do. It's your father's influence. If you harm yourself, it's on him. My health coach says at least you're outside getting Vitamin D.'

I felt a drilling rig in my stomach mining deeper and deeper until I felt as though I needed to gulp for air. This had been happening a lot recently. Conversations with my mother felt as though they sucked the breath out of me. I felt my shoulders tense and my head go foggy. Worry was like polyester fill being stuffed in my mind.

Lately, I'd lost my nerve at the skate park. I used to do tricks in the small bowl and was working my way up to the medium flow. But mum told me that story about Bernadette's son so graphically and repeatedly that whenever I tried an Ollie all I thought about was my brain smeared on the concrete.

'Go and get dressed,' mum said. 'Wear something nice. Maybe that lemon-coloured dress I bought you at Christmas. And tie your hair back in a ponytail to hide how you've butchered it.'

I was officially out of breath by the time I returned to my room.