Page 30 of Broken Rock

‘Ah nuts. Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

Gregg curses as he climbs out of the truck, then glares at Tate as he passes him on the way to the passenger side. He slumps back in the passenger seat and slams the door. ‘Spoil sport.’ He pulls a bag out of his pocket and offers it to Tate. ‘Gummy bear?’

Tate grabs a handful and they eat in silence for a few minutes until Gregg speaks.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking.’

‘What have I told you about doing that?’

‘Ha ha. So glad to know your sense of humour comes back when taking the piss out of me.’

Tate smirks at him as he chews on a gummy bear. ‘I’ve got to have some fun.’

Gregg flicks him the bird then sits back in the seat again. ‘What I was trying to say is that I realised something about you this morning when I was in the shower.’

Tate looks sideways at him. ‘You were thinking about me when you were in the shower?’

‘Of course. I do a lot of thinking in the shower.’

‘Is that right?’ Tate leans back against the car door and frowns over at his friend. ‘Am I the only one you think about in the shower?’

Gregg looks over at him and grimaces when Tate smirks. ‘Oh God. Not like that, you ass. Yeah. Fine. Go on, laugh it up.’

‘Sorry, Gregg. You walked into that one.’

‘Fair enough.’ Gregg chews on another sweet as Tate laughs. ‘You know, I missed that.’

Tate opens the window, letting the fresh mountain air into the truck. ‘Missed what?’

‘You laughing. Felt like I got my old mate back again just now. Glad to know he’s still in there under all the glaring and brooding.’ Gregg smiles to soften his words.

He knows Gregg wasn’t having a go, but his words still hit home. He has been a moody, awkward, irritable fucker lately. It’s not something he’s consciously doing. Since he woke up in hospital, going on the defensive and snapping at people has been his default setting. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I just...’ he sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. ‘I don’t feel like me anymore. That doesn’t make sense.’

‘Of course it makes sense, you eejit. You’re all over the place and that’s what I’m saying. For as long as I can remember— Okay, for the last few years at least, there’s been two things you’ve been attached to - your guitar and your bike. They’re as much a part of you as your arm is. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve not seen you in the company of either since you got out of rehab. What the fuck are you waiting for?’

‘You bring me up here to give me a lecture?’

‘You going to answer the question or keep dodging. What are you waiting for?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Right, so do something about it. You told me you want to get back to performing but you haven’t done a damn thing about it. You realise in order to perform you need to touch a guitar, right? That’s kind of your thing.’

‘Yes, Gregg. I know that, but it’s not that easy. You really think anyone will want to come and see me now?’

‘You won’t know unless you speak to Ellen.’ Gregg searches in the bag for another sweet and pops it into his mouth. ‘You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself, mate.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Whatever the hell you’re doing to yourself. You seem intent on beating yourself up. You got to get out of the pile of crap you’re buried under.’

Tate laughs harshly. ‘Right. Grand. Will do.’ Tate yelps when Gregg punches him in the arm. ‘What the fuck was that for?’

‘You’re being a dick again. I know you think you messed up and it’s the end of the world as you know it. But it’s not. You need to get your life back. I’m not just talking about singing. I’m talking about bringing you out up here.’ He taps the side of his head. ‘You’re free to get back to your life.’

‘What life?’

---