Crisis of Identity

By the time I finished, the skeleton of empty cabinetry is all that remained on dad’s side of the wardrobe. The eight bulging, extra-large black plastic garbage bags sitting on the floor waiting for transport were the last of the physical reminders of dad. Once they go, all I will have left are the photographs and my memories, both of which I worry will fade with time.

I wasn’t sure I could get through it. Sure, I had my moments, but I did it. My job was done. I yelled down the stairs to let mum know I have finished. When I returned to the wardrobe, a little relieved at the achievement and ready to lug the heavy bags downstairs, a lone cardboard box sitting down the back end of the top shelf, caught my eye. The words “Text Books” were scribbled across it in black permanent marker.

‘Not sure how I missed that,’ I grumbled to myself. The two-metre high shelf was a bit of a stretch. Unbeknown to me, the box was not sealed. When I slid it down from the shelf, a ten by eight inch photograph frame sitting loosely on top, slid off. The corner of the frame dug into my cheek on its way to the floor.

I cursed out loud from the stabbing pain. After dumping the heavy box on the ottoman, I checked my cheek in the mirror. A small trickle of blood was making its way down my cheek.

Mum returned as I was dabbing the wound with a tissue from her dressing table. ‘What happened…?’ She asked. ‘I heard you swear. Is something wrong?’

Mum’s eyes fell to the picture frame on the floor. The cracked glass and fractured corners ejected the photograph it earlier displayed. ‘That,’ I said lifting my chin to the photo frame. ‘Slid off and hit me on the cheek when I brought down that box.’ I lifted the ejected colour photo.

Mum waved her hands at me. ‘Don’t worry about that Kade… I’ll clean all that up…’ Mum bit down on her lip.

’Why would dad store this photo of the Angelina in here…? From what I understood he loved that boat.’

‘Probably put it there after he sold it,’ mum offered. ‘Here… I’ll take that.’ She held out a hand. ‘You can start loading these bags into your Ute.’

Remaining on the floor among the broken frame was a smaller photo that was earlier concealed behind the large photo. I lifted the seven by five inch photograph depicting three people—two males and a female—posing for a photo at the bow of a large boat at sea.

The faded, old-school style photograph, with a white border, suggests it was taken some time ago. ‘That’s dad, but who are these other two people?’ I said. I held the photo out to mum.

She held out her hand. ‘Can I have that please,’ she said firmly. I flipped the photo over. ‘Kade… Don’t!’ mum pleaded. ‘Give it to me, please.’ She took a step closer and extended her hand. ‘Please…’

My eyes flared at the handwritten inscription on the back. “Mandy & Graham Great Keppel Island Ferry 1988”

‘1988…’ I said. Mum’s deer-in-the-headlight expression stared back at me. ‘You lived on the Gold Coast in 1988…’ I said. ‘So… This Mandy and Graham…’ I lifted the photo up to mum. ‘Are they—’

‘Mandy and Graham Evans,’ mum nodded. Her conceding head bowed. ‘That was taken on board the ferry on a day trip to Keppel.’

‘I don’t really care about the ferry, or where it was taken….’ I snapped. ’Mandy and Graham… Mum… What the hell is going on…?’ A constricting knot formed in my stomach when mum couldn’t look me in the eyes. ’Mum… What’s going on…? You said you didn’t know them… You told Dawes you didn’t know them… You told me you didn’t know them.’ I glared at mum. The throbbing in my check injury paled against the throbbing in my temples.

Mum cupped her face in her hands. Her watery eyes stared back at me when she lowered her hands. ‘It’s a long story, Kade. I—’

’1988… that’s thirty-one years ago…’ I said firmly. ‘This photo was taken thirty-one years ago. So, Graham Evans was about… fifty-nine when he died… So in this 1988 photo he would be about… twenty-eight. About my age. Right?’ I pointed the Graham Evans in the photo. ‘It looks like I’m looking at myself in that photo, mum. Only it’s not me, is it…?’ My question was obviously rhetorical.

Mum slowly shook her head in response. ‘There’s a reason for that, darling,’ she said as she reached for my hand. I pulled my hand away and stepped back. ‘Look…’ she continued. ’All the photos from that part of our life were destroyed… for a reason…’ she said.

’Clearly not all.’ I held up the seven by five.

‘I’m angry your father kept that photo, but I’m starting to think he kept that one in case he decided to, one day, tell you the truth…’

‘The truth…?’ I asked knowingly. My legs turned to jelly. I found myself sitting on the ottoman. ‘You mean… The truth that Mandy and Graham Evans are really my parents… You mean, the truth that you lied to me… to everyone. You mean the truth that my entire life is a lie…’

‘It’s not what you think, Kade. You have to believe me.’

‘Are Mandy and Graham Evans my parents…?’ I glared at mum waiting for her answer.

‘It’s not wh—’

‘Are-Mandy-and-Graham-Evans-my-parents?’ I repeated through gritted teeth.

’Yes. They are your biological parents, but I—’ mum stopped when I jumped up from my seat and brushed past her. ‘Kade… wait. Please,’ she said to my back as I disappeared out the door.

‘I don’t know you… And I don’t want to be here right now.’

Mum, or is it Vicky, followed me downstairs and out to the drive, pleading with me to stay, so she could explain everything.

Fact is, I wasn’t interested; not right now. All I could think about is, I am Jayden Evans and the people I called my parents must’ve kidnapped me, just as Dawes has maintained all along. The pain in my chest was probably my heart ripping in two. I found myself panting for air.

All the hatred I have for Dawes for what he did to my family, for what he said about my family, was unjust and unfair. How can I look Dawes in the face after months of questioning his sanity and investigative methods?

When I arrived at the driver’s door of my Ute, my hands were shaking so much I dropped my car keys. This inadvertently gave mum the opportunity to catch up. She grabbed my forearm. ‘Kade…’ she said with tears welling. ‘Please don’t go like this… Please come back inside and let me explain. It’s not what you think…’ Her teary eyes pleaded with me.

My focus fell to her hand on my forearm. Even through all the disappointment, all the hurt and anger, her touch was still caring. Her sad eyes melted me. I couldn’t leave. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. ‘I’m not sure there is much more that can be said…’ I said firmly.

‘There is a hell of a lot more, Kade. Believe me. Please just come inside so I can explain. If you still want to leave after that…well, I won’t try and stop you. Please.’

I wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘You have no idea what this news has done to me…’ I said. ‘I’m shattered… angry and shattered.’

‘That’s understandable… But I think I do know how it has affected you, Kade. I’ve been fearing this day for a long time… preparing for it… but fearing it. I always knew that one day we would probably have to tell you what really happened, even though I hoped I wouldn’t have to.’

‘What’s there to tell…? You and dad kidnapped me, just as Dawes said.’

‘This is what I’m trying to tell you. That’s not what happened…’

’How else do you explain it? I am their son, yet you raised me…’

‘You were an unwanted pregnancy, OK…’ mum snapped. Her expression was as if the words cut as they left her mouth. ‘Mandy and Graham were in on it, Kade… Look... Come inside and let me explain.’

‘In on it. In on what…? My kidnapping?’

‘Just come inside,’ mum said, gesturing to the front door. ‘Please.’ Mum examined my reaction like she was trying to get a read on my mood.

I gave in and returned inside.