Page 23 of Repluse

“Car okay?” Ella asks.

“Best ask your dad. He drove it home?—”

“Car’s fine,” Scott interrupts. “Would’ve been fine if she’d just hit the thing and not swerved off the road and bogged it in the mud. But not her. Princess Mila ain’t made for country life. Worries too much about the vermin.”

“Actually,” Marcie interjects, “roos are indigenous, not vermin.”

“So are…” Scott catches himself before continuing with the racist comment he was undoubtedly about to make.

Marcie’s dark eyes come to mine. Equally aware, she gives a small head shake. Like many of the workers at the olive farm and in the transportation side of the business, Marcie descends from our first nations people. Her tribe having been here for around forty thousand years garners no respect from Scott. She’s been ‘friends’ with Ella for years, and like me, a victim of Scott’s derogatory remarks about our race, heritage, and ethnicity for just as long. Logan and Ella both make the excuse that he’s‘just old school.’ As much as I love Ella—despite the calculated reasons on my part for becoming her friend, I have grown to love her—I wish she’d get her arse out of the closet and tell her dad that not only is she gay, but that her girlfriend is indigenous, and Ireally,really, hope I’m around to witness that day.

“So are who, Dad?” Ella surprises me by asking, and I wonder if today might be that day.

“The mozzies. Aren’t they native or whatever the woke word is to use nowadays?” He uses air quotes when saying native. “We have no issue killing them, spraying them, splatting them…” He trails off, apparently running out of words to add to his blatant lie.

“That’s not what you were gonna say, and we all know it.”

All eyes are now on Ella. Even Nora has looked up from her orange juice, which we all know is three quarters diluted with Grey Goose.

“El,” Marcie whispers, reaching out and touching Ella’s arm.

“No, Cie. I’m sick of it. Sick of him and his bullying. Just because Mila’s not been here to pick on all weekend, he’s been on your case instead.”

“What’s she on about?” Nora questions, and I feel like I’ve woken up and wandered into some alternate version of our kitchen. Since when did Ella stand up to her dad like this?

“I heard you heard you on the phone to Logan…”

My eyes slide to my husband’s, and his slide from mine to his sister, then to his dad. Scott stands so abruptly, his chair falls back and hits the tiled floor.

“Enough!” he roars. “You will shut your fucking mouth, and you will show some fucking respect.”

“Respect? You?” Ella says no more before Scott has his hand around her throat and lifts her from her stool. I move, Logan moves, and Marcie throws a punch that hits Scott square on the nose. He staggers back but doesn’t release his grip on Ella. I grabat his hand and attempt to bend his fingers away from her neck, but he backhands me with his free hand and sends me flying across the kitchen. I hit my head against the corner of a cabinet before hitting the floor.

After a flash of white light in front of my eyes, everything goes black for a few seconds, and I feel myself go limp. I fight whatever is trying to pull me under and open my eyes, but my arms and legs are still immobile. Logan appears to be moving in slow motion, and I assume he’s about to help his sister. Instead, when everything comes into focus, he’s rolling around on the floor having an actual fist fight with Marcie.

I’ve seen Marcie fight boys before, but that’s when we were kids. She’s no match in size or strength for Logan now.

“Get that dyke cunt out of here now!” Scott bellows as I watch from the floor, blood dripping from my nose, when Logan marches past me.

He has a grip on Marcie’s hair, with his hand over her mouth as she struggles against him. I’m too stunned and still seeing too many stars to be able to respond. I just watch on while wiping the blood from my nose and a cut at the corner of my eye as Nora picks up her drink and leaves the room. Scott soon picks up Ella in much the same way Logan picked up Marcie, and he, too, leaves the room.

I sit in stunned silence for at least ten minutes, expecting someone to return at some stage, but they don’t. I attempt to stand, but pain shoots through my wrist when I put weight on it, and I instantly feel like I’m about to vomit.

I close my eyes, but that just makes my head spin more. When I sense movement, I open them to see Logan standing looking down at me.

“What the fuck? What the fuck just happened?” I sob, my entire body starting to shake as shock sets in.

He squats in front of me, and I flinch as he moves my hair from the cut at the side of my eye.

“You should’ve stayed out of it. It’s not your place to be getting involved. Ella’s sick.

We’ve known for a while now, but she’s refused to accept our help. Marcie’s been getting in her head, telling her things, convincing her…” He trails off as his blue eyes dart over my face. “I’m sorry you got hurt, but you shouldn’t have got in the way.”

“Where are they? Where have they gone?”

“I got a couple of the boys to take Marcie home. Dad’s taken Ella to see a doctor to get her some help.”

“I don’t understand. Ella’s sick?” I ask in confusion.

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