Kala by Colin Walsh

Author:Colin Walsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atlantic Books

One morning, not long after the night of the Crawley House, Kala called to my house by herself. She had sent me a text the night before.

Hey babe pak a bag 4 2moro & cash… will explane in morning b ready!!! :-) xxx

Aoife was usually the organizer. This was new.

By now I had 30 euro in Mam’s jewellery box. I had perfected my hair technique: if I showered the night before, went to bed with my hair wet, and got up early enough to shake the sleepiness out of it, my hair would find a rumpled turbulence by the time Kala arrived. Today was going to be a girls’ day. The boys would be practising tunes in Joe’s all afternoon – Mush joked that Joe was like the sergeant in Full Metal Jacket, drilling him and Aidan for hours till they got something right. Whenever we met the boys after practice, they would be flush-faced, a shout in their voices which I first thought was from excitement, before I realized it was because their ears were ringing.

I had my eyeliner slashes done and was wearing an aggressively red lipstick that Aoife claimed to have shoplifted from Brown Thomas, though I did not believe her. Misty barked when the doorbell rang. I saw Kala’s blurred form through the fogged glass.

‘Got your bits?’ she said. She was wearing a choker and had her mouth painted wine red. She had done something with her lashes that I would need to learn. Her hair was sensational. It turned in a careless wave over her crooked eye. We allowed ourselves to be taken in by each other’s gaze, catching ourselves in the act till it pushed at the edges of our mouths. Shy smiles. I thought of when a mirror faces another mirror, and they accordion outwards into two infinities.

Kala ruffled Misty behind the ears as I took my bag. She leaned in the door and peered upstairs. ‘Hi there,’ she said to Theresa, who was sitting on the top step, watching us. ‘I like your runners.’

Theresa opened her mouth to speak but her face went red and she pretended to be distracted by something on her sleeve.

‘I used to have runners like them,’ Kala said. ‘With the flashing lights. Very cool.’

Theresa continued playing with her sleeve, mouthing the words to a song like she was unaware of us.

I rolled my eyes as I walked out the door. ‘Later!’ I shouted into the house. Dad was still in bed, so I gave the door a good slam.

We should have gone down the laneway to Aoife’s, to collect her. But Kala had a plan for today, and there was an illicit thrill to realizing that Aoife was not part of it.

The horizon yawned open at the entrance of the estate, stretching itself towards the Prom. Kala got two rollies from her shirt pocket. I took mine wordlessly. We were cool like that. As I held it between my lips I thought of Kala rolling a cigarette for me in the quiet, earlier that morning, in the smoke-threads of her incense.

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