Bubblegum Pop

The colonial heritage mansion was over an hour behind us when I suggested we turn off the highway for petrol and a snack.

We stopped at the sole roadhouse in a small country township. The petrol pumps were retro classics, lovingly restored. Their chrome gleamed in the afternoon sun. In an era of full driveway service, I waited for the attendant. Jenny went to the restrooms at the side of the garage. We would grab a bite to eat and head off.

"Fill 'er up," I stated, distracted, not looking at the person as they approached.

I gazed aimless, looking down a small-town road deserted in the afternoon.

"Luke."

Well, your name does get your attention, plus a familiar voice.

"Josh!"

I perked in a happy surprise.

I gathered without asking: this must be his own business.

We clasped hands, his grip firm.

"I didn't think…I didn't realise…It's been a while! I should have done better with the contact," I blustered.

"It's okay, mate; I didn't do any better. I'm doing okay. How about yourself?" he tendered.

"All good. I'm nearly done with uni and hanging out with a nice girl."

I didn't say girlfriend. Jenny never said, boyfriend. Neither of us used the word relationship.

"She's in the restroom. You'll meet her soon. But, yourself mate, the ladies, a steady?"

He answered as he filled the car. Josh appeared he wanted to be busy.

He gave me the generic answer, "You know, getting my fair share."

The fuel pump hummed.

He rattled off with a short chortle, "The occasional chick who needed her car fixed. No one at present. You know, Coral loved me."

The pump clicked and clicked: the tank filled.

"I should have loved her back as much as she loved me."

I decided to check the tyre pressure—a more straightforward job than responding to a fractured heart. As I checked the pressure, I admitted to myself, although there were plenty of fish off the jetty, what could you do if you wished for the mermaid?

Josh cleaned the windscreen using an angled wash and wipe. I checked the second tyre.

Unashamed, he gave his depths, "I thought of ending it."

Abruptly, I straightened, holding the tyre pressure gauge, giving him my undivided eye contact.

"No, mate, not anymore; a short rough patch. Life is what it is here; I've nothing to complain about. I found my peace renovating an old federation-style home."

He finished the windshield.

"I thought once if it's old-fashioned, it didn't count. I appreciate style. I'm beginning to grow up."

"Nice," glad the direction of the conversation changed.

I gave the thumbs up for him to continue.

"Yeah, it fills in time. You'd like it, especially the loft. It's got great timbers, and I will put in a skylight one day. It would have been an ideal studio for Coral! Oh, well."

In an awkward silence, I stared at his boots. I noticed his lacing straight out of Coral's repertoire from the boathouse.

"I have a conservatory full of lush indoor plants," he said, trying to lighten the tone of the conversation, "one day, I'll get them in the loft."

I returned to finish the tyre pressure. However, the actual pressure bloated within me.

Even if the universe destined the end of Josh and Coral's relationship, Josh remained hanging in there. Coral was in his thoughts - and knowing Coral, maybe no one was better for my mate.

A jolt of guilt surged in my mind, which I let slide.

Ruby and I denied him.

Next, I advanced to; It wasn't my problem - His weakness; he gave up.

I corrected myself.

I gave up on my mate! 

We needed to talk about the past.

Jenny bounced back, refreshed.

I introduced her as "Jenny."

To her, I said, "My long-time mate, Josh."

They shared a mutual nod.

Jenny said, "I'm peckish. I'll grab some snacks."

I excused myself; I would be a minute to use the restroom.

Jenny offered to pay. She entered the small convenience section next to the garage workshop.

Josh politely held the store door.

I came back from the restrooms. Jenny stood in the warm sunshine holding a big punnet of strawberries.

"He's nice. He's generous! He wouldn't let you pay."

She nibbled a plump strawberry.

"He gave me these, a gift. Gosh, they're sweet."

Jenny took another bite of an enormous strawberry.

"Josh has a patch."

She caught the seeping juice leaking from the berry with her tongue.

"I was going to get us some chocolate bars -he suggested these. I must say, I've never seen a confectionery stand with the bars arranged like a rainbow- so cute."

She finished the strawberry.

"Go, say goodbye to your mate."

Jenny took another berry from the punnet, "Don't be long," she teased, "I may eat them all."

I kissed her cheek and entered the store to farewell Josh. Jenny was right; the shop presented super organised. Josh tidied a shelf. He smiled broadly when he saw I had come in to see him before we left.

It reminded me of how he looked when we won a trophy together years ago, playing league table tennis.

A cassette on the counter played Sugar Baby Love. It had been years since I heard the song.

"You still listen to Bubblegum pop."

"Coral liked it. I came to it later."

My fingers twitched, and I was glad I had my wallet open rather than needing to scan his face. I offered to pay for the fuel. Josh wouldn't have a bar of it.

Instead, he sought, "Have you seen Coral recently?"

He fired it at me quickly because he must have believed I was about to go.

Before I answered, he asked, "Is she with Ruby?"

He asked a lot, so I broke it into parts.

"Ruby, no, they didn't last the summer you left. Ruby is in Paris, at the Sorbonne, studying French. You know the girl!"

I waved my hands.

Josh winked.

I continued, "Coral, yes, before she left for Princeton. She's on an art fellowship."

"Oh, great, good on her," I could tell Josh embraced her success.

"Is she well?"- he pried, as we do – about anyone not directly in our lives who has marked our soul.

Perhaps deeper probing for - had Coral said anything about him? And the unsaid, is she with someone else?

These were questions I couldn't answer; it was not what Coral and I shared in long-distance phone calls or what she provided on the stunning art postcards I received from her regularly.

I started, "She did it rough before leaving for The States."

I didn't think as I continued, "I hope her scholarship helps her put Granville behind her."

My hand immediately went to my mouth. Josh would not have known Coral was on the train involved in the horrific crash.

"What?" he gasped.

"Time heals, so they say, " I started.

Next, I reassured him, "She wasn't injured."

I did not say it - because I didn't think it then, her mental scars - Coral wouldn't talk about what happened.

I shared what I knew. He pumped politely for any details. I offered the second-hand snippets garnered from Coral's mum. When I had not heard from Coral in Sydney, I rang her mum. I asked if Coral was okay as she hadn't rung me. I did not consider she could have been in the recent train crash.

Her mother, Sandy, told me directly. I recalled her words over the phone, 'Coral was in the Granville crash. She wasn't hurt.'

I did not tell Josh at the time; it shook me. And I wanted to see Coral, to make sure she was alright.

I told Josh that Sandy had said Coral recovered by staying with a family friend. She had been in the last carriage back from the crushed front rail cars. Her mum concentrated on the after, not the event. She said Coral was getting her life back together.

I took this at face value. Her mum pleaded with me never to discuss it when Coral returned to Melbourne. I left it unspoken, and so did Coral.

I finished on a positive with Josh, "Yeah, she looked forward to The Guggenheim and MoMA as she flew away."

I know now that Granville travelled with my best friend. It weighed down her spirit.

Josh's face gladdened, knowing Coral was okay.

Though a brow line indicated, he tried to picture her in the present. I realised he had a younger image of her, forever imprinted. I didn't want to alter it by adding Granville turned Coral into a smoker.

Josh and I agreed we needed to maintain better contact. We swapped addresses. He apologised because his old house lacked a phone line or connected electricity.

He laughed, then added, "I run a second-hand generator out in the bush."

We stayed in touch through the years. More intermittent than it should have been. And we rarely mentioned Coral.

I left his garage, thinking Coral would have liked Josh's shorter hair.

I passed on telling Coral I had seen Josh the next time I spoke to her long-distance. She seemed happy in her present - she waxed lyrical about viewing- a Pollock—his, Autumn Rhythm (Number 30), at The Met.

Jenny and I returned to Melbourne 'without further ado.'

We shared the strawberries way too fast!