Crisis of Identity
Chapter 13

The majority of our last day in Queensland was spent comatose from last night’s bender. After meeting Mrs Evans, I had cause to celebrate and celebrate I did.

We hit bars, pubs and too many clubs to remember. Like celebrating a grand final triumph, I went out hard and kept going strong until they kicked us out at sunrise. I’m not sure which took the bigger hit, my liver, or my wallet.

I woke lying on top of the covers, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling fan on full speed. I wasn’t in any hurry to move but the pressure on my bladder was my motivation. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The kitchen clock showed 3.10pm when I shuffled in with a foggy head and a mouth drier than Ghandi’s thongs.

I filled a glass from the kitchen sink and dispatched it in one gulp. The first two glasses didn’t touch the sides. While contemplating a 3rd, Mitch staggered in. His eyes looked like the proverbial two piss holes in the snow.

‘You look as bad as I feel, bro,’ I said, filling my glass.

Mitch coughed as he scratched his head through his matted hair. ‘Any coffee…?’ he grunted.

‘Kettle’s on…’ I said, then emptied my 3rd glass.

We took our coffees out on the balcony gazing out to the ocean through glassy stares. Conversation was light, to say the least. We reclined with our feet up on the hand rail waiting for the fresh air and caffeine to do its work on our foggy heads.

‘What happened to the girls last night…?’ I asked.

‘Dunno. I don’t even remember gettin’ home.’

‘You and me both, bro.’

We’d already pencilled in today as a recovery day, ahead of our 11am flight home tomorrow. So all we had to do was wait for our heads to clear to an acceptable level of cognitive awareness.

It wasn’t until my foot slipped off the handrail that I realized I’d nodded off. Seventy-five minutes passed in a blink. I glanced across at Mitch. He too was out. His chin was buried into his chest.

The water, coffee and the three Panadols were starting to help, but the three glasses in my bladder could no longer be ignored. I dropped my feet to the floor, just as my phone rang. I recognized the number.

‘Detective Dawes…’ I answered. My tone was intentionally disinterested.

‘Whoa… I hope you look better than you sound…?’

‘Big night last night. Bit of a celebration…’

‘Do you have a couple of minutes to chat…?’

‘If you don’t mind the sound of running water,’ I said as I continued to the toilet.

‘I’m aware you head home tomorrow, so I was hoping to catch up tonight, before you leave.’

‘No point. I’m not your guy.’

‘We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.’

’No, we don’t. I’m not your guy. I met with Mrs Evans yesterday and even she agreed with me. I’m not Jayden.’

‘You met with Mandy Evans…?’

‘I did.’

‘Why?’

‘To clear this shit up. To prove once and for all I am not her missing kid.’

‘And she told you she didn’t think you are Jayden…?’

‘She did.’ Several beats of silence passed. I checked the connection.

‘How was she so certain you aren’t Jayden?’

I flushed the toilet. ‘Apart from the fact she believed me when I said I was born and raised in WA, unlike you… There’s also the birthmark.’ I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder to wash my hands.

‘Birthmark…?’

‘Yep. Jayden has a small birthmark on his right rib cage. I don’t. Therefore… I’m not him. Can’t possibly be him.’

I could hear the sound of pages turning. I returned to the balcony while I waited. Mitch was awake, or at least, his bleary eyes were open. I think I even saw him move.

‘I don’t have any record of a birthmark on any reports…’ Dawes said.

‘So...?’

‘Well, wouldn’t you think that would be an important feature to include in a missing person report…?’

‘Not really…He’s a three your old boy with one of the most recognisable faces in the country. I don’t think you need a birth mark to confirm his identity.’

‘Mandy would have mentioned a birth mark to me, if he had one.’

‘Her kid was snatched. The last thing on her mind was a small birth mark. Anyway… if you don’t believe me, speak to her yourself, OK.’

‘I think I will. Can you do me a favour when you get home…?’

‘Depends…’

‘Ask your mum for evidence of your birth. Photos of you as a newborn. Baby photos as you grew. Birth certificate, saved mementos, anything to prove you were born in WA.’

‘And then you’ll leave me alone…?’

‘It would certainly help.’

‘No. That’s not good enough. I’ll do what you ask on one condition... If I get these things for you…you will accept who I am and leave me alone.’ The phone went silent. ‘Do we have a deal?’

‘We do…’

‘OK… I gotta go. Last night an’ all.’ I ended the call and dropped the phone onto the table.

‘Dawes…?’ Mitch grunted.

‘Aha…’

Mitch shook a disapproving head.

I showered up, my first for the day, dragged on my tidy gear then we strolled to Surfer’s in search of our last holiday dinner on the Gold Coast.

The next morning we checked out of our accommodation, dropped the hire car off at the airport and boarded our flight as scheduled, ahead of our 11am departure.

After entering our plane via the front door, a friendly, older female flight attendant checked our boarding passes then directed us to our seats in row 22. ‘On the right,’ she indicated.

We dumped our carry-on overhead and folded ourselves into our narrow seats. I had to feel sorry for the guy sitting in front of Mitch’s 195cms. He will have to cope with two knee caps pushing firmly into in his back for the entire flight.

Take off was smooth. I watched the Gold Coast drop away beneath us, leaving blue sky and clouds. I slipped in my earphones and cranked up some tunes from my phone.

The reason I took this holiday with Mitch was to relax and to extract me from my dark place, after recent events. It did that. We met some cool people and probably consumed more alcohol than our bodies can manage.

My only regret is crossing paths with an old-school Detective with a hard-on for finding a little boy lost. In the end, I wasted way too much of our limited holiday time convincing myself and others that I am who I am.

After levelling off, the First Officer announced our flight time was 4 hours and 30 minutes and he expected to have us disembarking in Perth at 1.30pm Perth time, which is two hours behind the east coast. It’s going to be a long flight.

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