I didn't know her half as well as I wanted to.
I met her at Maeve Fox, friend of Brad's. Workmate. He fancied her, who wouldn't. Smart, funny, sexy, nerdy but cool. Great tits. Brad never had a chance. He's a teddy bear.
I had a chance. Immediate rapport, spark. Then, distrust in her eyes, the kind that says, "I could like you, and that's dangerous. For me."
Turned out she had a fella. Shacked up. Yet I never met him. Got on it a few times with her and Brad. She loved the powder. We had fun, then she would say something dismissive, or question my sincerity, to remind me: stay away.
The three of us ended up at her place one night. The bloke was in Bali, on holiday. Without her. She was giving me a hard time, but I didn't mind. I liked her, even if she did put me on the back foot occasionally.
"I'd like to get to know you sober," I said.
"Me too."
I said let's go see this Shakespeare thing. "Okay." She gave me her number. Or did I already have it? I can't remember. I remember the moments I would catch her with her guard down, without the big front this little girl presented - to the world but doubly to me. In those moments she was pure. Her love of music, her enthusiasm for the poetry of life. Her cynicism was that of the disappointed romantic.
"You guys can crash here if you like," she offered. Oh. It would have been on, the minute Brad fell asleep. She knew it, I knew, Brad knew it.
"C'mon, spook. Let's get an Uber," he said.
So, we went home. It was impossible that night. But I would call her.
Except, I didn't. She had a boyfriend. She lived with him. I'm not that guy. I have been, but I'm not. No. I wanted her to be available, for me.
Months went by. I moved. She moved too. I ran into her at Northcote Plaza. We made awkward small talk. She was single. I could tell.
This time I called her. Voicemail. I hung up.
"Who's this?" she texted. We agreed to have coffee, or a drink, when she got back from Perth in a couple of weeks. I suggested a play, but she had plans that Friday. I didn't suggest another night. I felt the walls were up. Maybe they were mine.
Got on the Griggs with Gyps one night. He's a lightweight so as usual I was last man standing. Felt like dancing. Found a club on High St I didn't know existed. Bought a beer, hit the floor. It's dark, maybe 20 people in there. It's late. I'm a good mover, and I have dance floor gravity: they come into my orbit. I sensed a woman, to my right. I looked at her, looking at me, smiling. It was her. We danced for a bit, then she sat down, so I followed her. We caught up, and in the space of a few minutes she told me both that she liked me and that I was sitting too close.
The lights came up. She got up and walked away from the exit - I thought to the toilet. I waited, but was ushered out. I waited outside, for 10 minutes or more. I called. No answer. Rejected again.
I put her in the too hard basket.
I saw her once more, at Northcote Plaza again, a few months ago. I was heading into Coles when she rushed past me.
"Natalie."
She was harried, seemed frazzled, in a rush, or anxious to avoid me. Turned, gestured "hi", indicated she couldn't stop.
"Go, go. Don't let me keep you."
Too hard.
All too hard, for her. Not just me. Everything. I saw Brad's post on Facebook the day of her funeral. It floored me.
You never know.
A couple of Greek guys in fluro were bulldozing the tennis courts next to Croxton station when I walked past the other day. Knocking down the small, graffitied old brick clubhouse or whatever it was. Tearing up the En-Tout-Cas surface. I crossed the tracks, past the Golden Wattle, and into a Southern Baptist church. Sometimes you need a soul choir. Today, I'm Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, Leon Bridges. I swear to god I'm black in some dimension.
Been travelling these wide roads
For so long
My heart's been far from you
Ten thousand miles gone
Oh, I wanna come near and give you
Every part of me
But there's blood on my hands
And my lips are unclean
In my darkness I remember
Momma's words reoccur to me
"Surrender to the good Lord
And he'll wipe your slate clean"
Take me to your river
I wanna go
Oh, go, take me to your river
I wanna know
Dip me in your smooth water
As I go in
As a man with many crimes, come up for air
As my sins flow down the Jordan
Oh, I wanna come near and give you
Every part of me
But there's blood on my hands
And my lips are unclean
Take me to your river
I wanna go
Oh, go, take me to your river
I wanna know
I wanna go, wanna go, wanna go
Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know
Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go
Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know
I wanna know, wanna know, wanna know
Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go
Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know
Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go
Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know
Hoo, oh, take me to your river
I wanna go
Lord, oh, please let me know
Take me to your river
I wanna know
I didn't know her half as well as I wanted to.
Goodbye, Natalie.