{"id":871,"date":"2012-01-24T06:00:58","date_gmt":"2012-01-24T14:00:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=871"},"modified":"2013-10-01T12:31:12","modified_gmt":"2013-10-01T19:31:12","slug":"season-5-episode-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=871","title":{"rendered":"Season 5: Episode 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>The wind was picking up. It licked the tops of the waves sending fleeting breaths of salty spray into the air. Johnny splashed the water absently with his hand, toying with the idea of waiting for another set or calling it a day. The water was starting to get really choppy and everyone else had gone in hours ago, the locals knowing that this was the time of day to clear out and get on with other things.<\/p>\n

If Mia was standing on the beach she wouldn\u2019t have recognised the lone surfer, bobbing about on the waves. His skin was walnut brown from weeks in the sun – surfing, reading, walking – and his hair had grown long, past his shoulders. He hadn\u2019t shaved for ages and had a very respectable beard going on; part fisherman, part grommit, part academic. The headache that had been his constant companion for weeks, had gone.\u00a0 Here he was, in one of the most beautiful places in the world, not another person around for miles.<\/p>\n

Like a lot of restaurants in Melbourne, Medina had shut down over the Christmas break and most of January giving Franco and Johnny some much needed time off. Initially, Johnny had planned on staying around Melbourne; ticking off that list of cultural must-do\u2019s that seemed to grow longer by the day: before he\u2019d left, there were more books scattered around his apartment in \u2018to read\u2019 piles than there were on his bookshelf.<\/p>\n

However, on the night that Mia had turned up on his doorstep, his holiday plans changed. He still wanted to do all that stuff, but now he had someone he wanted to do it with. He entertained romantic notions of finally spending lots of time with Mia, taking her to his favourite places, getting to know her a bit better. Most importantly, getting her away from that toffy English git she seemed to be spending so much time with, even though Johnny could tell she wasn\u2019t really into him. He thought about how they would tell their friends they were a couple.<\/p>\n

But, best laid plans and all that.<\/p>\n

The daydream had come to a screeching halt the very next morning when Cecelia had arrived unexpectedly, giving him the \u2018exciting\u2019 news. It had been one night. One stupid mistake, months ago. The only reason he\u2019d even slept with her was to get back – in some sick, masochistic way – at Mia for being with someone else.<\/p>\n

What a dumb idea that had been.<\/p>\n

He had run over the scenario so many times in his head. He\u2019d had a few drinks – he couldn\u2019t think why else he would have fallen for Cecelia\u2019s subtle-as-a-sledgehammer advances – but\u00a0 they had definitely used a condom. He wasn\u2019t that much of an idiot.<\/p>\n

Or so he had thought.<\/p>\n

The interstate trip had been impromptu. Soon after Cecelia and Mia had left – fled might be a more accurate description – both wildly (and rightfully, Johnny begrudgingly admitted) upset by the presence of the other, one of his mates in West Australia had phoned. He\u2019d been bugging Johnny for years to come over and visit. There had always been some excuse not to go, but Johnny decided that now was the time to take him up on the offer. He knew running away was the cowardly thing to do, but he just didn\u2019t have the energy to be noble.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can borrow the pano and just head down the coast,\u201d his friend had said. \u201cNo mobile reception, no internet. Nothing but you and the surf.\u201d<\/p>\n

To Johnny, it sounded like paradise.<\/p>\n

And it was.<\/p>\n

But now reality had to be faced. He couldn\u2019t pretend that his life wasn\u2019t a shambles forever. Johnny shook his head and splashed his hand across the ocean\u2019s surface once more watching the water scatter, carried off by the wind, wishing that his own problems would dissipate as quickly and as easily.<\/p>\n

Jesus christ<\/em>, he thought, smiling wryly, any more time alone and I\u2019ll start writing fucking poetry<\/em>.<\/p>\n

He took a last, wistful look over the water and lay on his surfboard, starting the long paddle back to his borrowed wheels.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

He made a final stop at the local bakery before he started the drive back to civilisation and, ultimately, the airport for his evening flight. Weeks prior, at this unlikely haven of baked treats, Johnny had stumbled across one of the best meals he\u2019d ever had. Sure, the salt on his skin, sand in his hair and the sense of freedom that came from both of these may have influenced his palate a tiny bit. Whatever it was though, this bakery sure knew how to cook a pie! He\u2019d been back every day, always ordering the same thing. The owner never tried to engage Johnny in a conversation about where he was from or where he was going. She seemed to have an innate sense for when people were trying to escape their own reality. The only thing she ever said to him was \u201cwould you like sauce, love?\u201d<\/p>\n

He sat out the front on the wooden benches and carefully pulled the pastry lid off, squirting tomato sauce onto the rich, meaty insides, before closing it up again and taking a bite. The gravy ran down his chin and he wiped it off with his hand. Now this was the way to eat a pie. He might have to incorporate something similar onto the Medina menu when he got back. He didn\u2019t know how well the Melbourne foodies would take to a traditional Aussie meat pie, but Franco could fancy it up a bit. Slow cooked lamb with a mint and jalapeno chutney, perhaps?<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

The Melbourne \u2018summer\u2019 was a rude awakening after weeks of endless sunshine and blue skies. Johnny waited until he got home to switched on his mobile. As he suspected it would, it immediately sprang to life, beeping incessantly. Fifty messages from Cecelia. Literally. None from Mia.<\/p>\n

Might as well get it over and done with<\/em>, Johnny thought. He took a deep breath and dialled Cecelia\u2019s number. She answered on the first ring.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere have you been?\u201d She sounded furious.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s nice to speak to you too,\u201d Johnny said lightly, trying to stay calm.<\/p>\n

He heard Cecelia exhale sharply. \u201cYou just disappeared. I didn\u2019t know if something had happened to you, or if you\u2019d run away or\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnny cut her off. \u201cI needed some time to think.\u201d He scuffed his toe on the floor and rolled his neck. The familiar headache was back. \u201cSo\u2026 how are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStill pregnant,\u201d she said sulkily.<\/p>\n

Damn<\/em>. Johnny had been hoping she\u2019d tell him it was a false alarm.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you\u2019re sure that it isn\u2019t\u2026well, it couldn\u2019t be anyone else\u2019s?\u201d he said hopefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere is no one else,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Fuck<\/em>! Johnny paced the room, taking deep breaths. \u201cBut\u2026 what about a paternity test?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor crying out loud, Johnny,\u201d Cecelia exclaimed. \u201cWhen are you going to man up and take responsibility for your actions? I\u2019ll take the test if you want me to, but it\u2019s not going to tell you anything different from what you already know. There. Isn\u2019t. Anyone. Else.\u201d She paused. \u201cThere never has been.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, you\u2019re a\u2026I mean, you were a\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA virgin?\u201d she said calmly. \u201cYes, that is exactly what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnny couldn\u2019t decide whether to laugh or cry. This just went from bad to worse.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to see you,\u201d Cecelia said. \u201cWe have to talk about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re talking about it now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can\u2019t have this conversation over the phone,\u201d she said, her voice rising an octave.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve already told you what I want to do,\u201d Johnny said. \u201cThat hasn\u2019t changed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not having an abortion,\u201d Cecelia said through clenched teeth. \u201cI thought I made that perfectly clear last time. I don\u2019t believe in it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yeah, well, you\u2019ve got no problem with sex before marriage<\/em>, thought Johnny angrily.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy family would disown me,\u201d Cecelia continued. \u201cIs that what you want to happen to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnny ran a hand through his hair. \u201cNo, of course not. I just don\u2019t know what you want from me. Money? Because if that\u2019s it, then of course I\u2019ll pay for, you know, whatever stuff you need. I might need a bit of time to get the cash together, but…\u201d He trailed off.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous.\u201d Cecelia sounded indignant. \u201cI want you to do the right thing, Johnny. I want you to marry me.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The wind was picking up. It licked the tops of the waves sending fleeting breaths of salty spray into the air. Johnny splashed the water absently with his hand, toying with the idea of waiting for another set or calling it a day. The water was starting to get really choppy and everyone else had […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes"},"categories":[202],"tags":[207,205,206],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/871"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=871"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/871\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1287,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/871\/revisions\/1287"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=871"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=871"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=871"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}