Facing the sun, p.14
Facing the Sun, page 14
Sandro is extremely reluctant to leave the hospital before it’s clear what is about to happen. The neurosurgeons have called an emergency teleconference, and they are awaiting their decision. “Bridey, could you drive through Adelaide do you think?”
“If I can drive in Melbourne, I can drive in Adelaide,” she responds bravely, hating the idea of working her way through the early evening traffic. “She’ll be fine. I’ll find her.” Sohrab responds with a grateful look. “Can you give me the phone number of where she was supposed to be, Sohrab, please?” He texts it to her.
Then Adam experiences something which makes him think brain tumours are not all bad, because Bridey bends over him kissing him softly and warmly on the side of his mouth, and he immediately feels an erection which wipes aside his worry replacing it with embarrassment. He drops an arm across his lap to hide it, and manages to offer her a wan smile in return, as she hugs him and leaves. When he looks up, Sandro is grinning.
* * *
Once her mother has been settled into a bed in the Private Hospital, Marra goes down to the cafeteria to grab a much needed coffee. It’s hours overdue, and she has a splitting headache. Her mother is expecting two more toes to be amputated. At sixty four, there’s no possibility of her changing her lifestyle; in particular exercise and eating habits. She wrestles with many mixed feelings about this; just as being an indigenous Australian and the lifelong battle between her feelings for her mob and its ways, has battled with her education and desire to extend herself. There seems to be no way of stopping this internal battle, and, in her heart, she knows she will be taking her mother back home before she is fully recovered. She has rights. It is hers to decide where she wants to live and what she does when she’s there. Everyone respects and looks up to Gugunya because she is wise and warm, but, like every other human being, she has her blind spots. The impact of this on those around her, doesn’t seem to register. Just as she has cared for every child born into the community, so she has the expectation that they will look after her, in her time of need; not that she wants to drag Marra up there all the time. She keeps insisting that there are enough people to look after her right where she lives. The difficulty is that they are not very good at it. Although, Gugunya is a stubborn woman, a lot like Molly really, and anyone attempting to control her diet and make her exercise has their work cut out for them.
* * *
As the car pulls up the driveway, the two who have been cuddling on the couch, Molly sitting on Josh’s knee, spring apart immediately and I just catch a flicker of this. The picture of virtuous innocence does nothing to assure me that all is well, but I’m relieved to find Molly with all her clothes on, and Josh, when he sees it’s me, doesn’t seem to be feeling guilty. “What have you been two been up to?” I ask them seriously. “Don’t expect me to believe you’ve been sitting on either side of the room! That’s a bit much.”
Josh flushes, and, when Molly looks outraged, he glares at her. “Don’t come the raw prawn Molly! She’s not an idiot.”
“Thank you, Josh. Your support is appreciated,” I say sarcastically, “but, you know she’s only fourteen and you’re not supposed to be touching her at all! You promised.” Angry at the set-up, I let off some of the steam which has been building all afternoon. “I’ve told you, you’re too old for her. Turning fifteen tomorrow only just lets you off the hook.”
This produces a storm of protest from Molly, who looks ready to throw another tantrum. Josh, who’d been about to walk out turns and stares at her. “You know Molly,” he says, quietly. “You may be an alright kisser, but I’m going right off you in every other way.” She draws back, silenced. He turns on his heel only to be brought up short by me.
“Don’t you dare walk out on me!” I am now furious. “The two of you disgust me.” I turn to Molly, my face set and hard as Josh halts. “While you’re trying to get Josh into bed with you, and into the trouble that would completely ruin the rest of his life, your brother is in hospital with very dangerous brain tumours. He’ll probably die!” I spit out, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth. But, I can’t stop myself now. I’m out of control. “Your mother is somewhere in a hospital with your grandmother, who has to have toes amputated; your father is distraught and can’t get on to her; Adam is terrified; and here you are making trouble. Again!”
Molly is speechless. She looks like her world has collapsed. Josh said horrible things. She’s probably thinking No one loves me. Tears roll slowly down her cheeks while she stares at me, pleading, but there’s no response from that quarter. Conscious that I’m taking out the afternoon’s drama on Molly and Josh, I remind myself that they certainly should get a good serve from someone. Hard eyes stare back at me. “I want to go to see Adam. Now!” Molly insists. “You’ll have to take me.” She can’t believe it when I shake my head turning away to the kitchen to put the kettle on. “The last thing they need in there is you.” That’s the final stab. Molly stares after me, stunned. Josh is glaring at her as well. She spins around and runs to her room slamming the door hard behind her.
Then I call out from the kitchen. “Josh. In here, now!” When I turn from plugging in the kettle, he’s standing looking at me, an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t you go anywhere near her, do you hear me?” Josh’s jaw works, a mulish look replaced by something else, as he chews over various options. In the end, he drags out a chair and sits down at the table.
“You’re not happy with me, Bridey. That’s clear. But… I’m not a kid you can push around,” he says. “If you’ve got more to say, say it.”
“It pisses me off that you went to walk away.”
“And it pisses me off that you told Molly like that. Now, she’s got to work all this out for herself, with no-one.”
I lower my head for a moment. Looking up at him again, I say, “I know Josh, but she’s such a brat, and I’m having a hard time tolerating her. I don’t want to see you in trouble.”
“Haven’t you ever done stuff like this? With older guys?”
“I don’t think I started until I was past sixteen.”
“Because you didn’t have the chance, the guts? What?”
“I dunno. Perhaps, there wasn’t the chance.” My tentative smile is ignored. His face is fixed. “This thing with Adam is really scary. For all of them. It won’t do Molly any harm to suffer a bit. You know, when all that happened in Birdsville, Mo lly never took a scrap of blame.” I wait for Josh to process this. “Don’t go to her Josh. Please.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not too keen on her, you know. Don’t like girls who carry on a lot. Just kissing, but after that in there, I’m over it.” He goes to the jug and switches it on again. “What sort of tea do you want?”
* * *
Jack left them at the hospital on his way to Melbourne late for a compulsory two day meeting which had started earlier that day. The decision to go private was made after landing. The hospital they chose has an excellent reputation for patient satisfaction and Jack has been paying private health insurance for some years now. The Royal Adelaide has a great medical team, but the atmosphere here is less institutional. Marra sits quietly with her mother listening to the complaints and fears which always arise when Gugunya has to face another period in hospital. Leaving calling for help, or even accepting a visit when the Flying Doctor was available, or using the excuse that someone else needs the attention more than her, are Gugunya’s usual strategies complicating everything whilst resulting in way more fuss for everyone and much more drastic effects on her health. Feelings of resentment lurk not far beneath the calm surface rumbling away in the manner of earthquakes, gentle at first but threatening chaos. She finds it hard to speak to her mother in case eruptions damage their relationship, but what she really wants is to scream at someone, everyone, to leave her alone, to look after themselves, to give her a break!
Nausea sweeps over her body bringing waves of heat followed by cold prickles like insects crawling up her neck and wandering at will through her hair. Unable to make sense of it, she dreads the thought she might be coming down with gastro or something. That is her way, to push herself to the point where she collapses into illness battling guilt and shame that she can’t manage to balance her life. It’s not me that’s doing this! she tells herself crossly, give me a break; it’s everyone else surrounding me, pushing on me, making it impossible to rest for a moment.
Sohrab is back. He is on his best behaviour in a distant, cool sort of way. This makes her want to scream at him that it isn’t her fault, it’s his; but screaming at Sohrab is out of the question. Screaming at anyone is out of the question. They all need her to stay calm and to hold everything together for them while they mess around with their lives. Marra wants to abandon the family and live on her own for a few years until they pull themselves together and begin taking responsibility for life. Speaking of which, I had better give him a ring and let him know where I am. Well, she decides, he can manage, will manage the kids, whether I ring him or not.
Just as she thinks of ringing work and cancelling some appointments, a doctor appears dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. Mum will like this one, she decides, at least that’s one good thing. Apologising for his attire, he tells them about his plans for his day which were to collect a trailer load of pebbles for his new garden. “There’s no one else available to poke and prod you,” he tells Gugunya (referring to her as Betty) which makes both women pause for a moment wondering who Betty is. It’s been such long time since anyone has used her first name. Everyone calls her Gugunya. It began as a mark of respect, celebrating her wisdom and years, and ended in obliterating her former identity. “I hear you are having some strange sensations in your toes, and one or two are smelling a bit rank.” Here is a man who states things as they are. Marra wishes she could do the same instead of protecting everyone. Well, not everyone. When she’s working, she is clear and gentle with staff and patients, but somehow family is different. They tend to bring out the weaker side of her. She watches while he does his examination and stands back framing his diagnosis.
“You’ve left these a bit long, haven’t you?” His smile is sympathetic and warm.
Her mother nods.
He turns to Marra. “How well does she speak English?”
The flash in the older woman’s eyes at this is not lost on the young man. “I beg your pardon, madam, I should of course have asked you. If one of my students had done that I’d be giving them a serve. You understand what this means, don’t you, Betty? I see you’ve already lost two toes. They seem to have healed well, but you are losing sensation aren’t you?” His grave face leaves no doubt about the seriousness of the situation. “We will need to take a couple more, I’m afraid.” She stares up at the young man, the deep wells of her eyes revealing nothing, but he nods as though she has spoken. “This will make it difficult for you to walk for a while, won’t it?”
Marra’s dull tone reveals her weariness as she asks, “When? It will need to be soon, won’t it?” The risk of blood poisoning is imminent. “When can you do it?”
He gazes at her thoughtfully, turning from her to her mother and back again, while he contemplates the state of his garden and the loss of free time he had been approaching with great satisfaction. “I’ll start you on antibiotics at once,” shaking his head, he asks “if that’s okay with you Betty? Then we’ll operate tomorrow. I’m afraid it’s going to mean a drip in your arm and a heavy dose if we’re going to catch this in time.”
“How long will I need to be in here for?” the old woman asks, appealing to Marra. “Can I go home soon?”
“That’s not possible I’m afraid. We’ll need to be monitoring you carefully. But, we can arrange to have Marra stay with you, if that would help?”
Marra sighs inwardly, her insides developing a large lump from her stomach and spreading up to her throat. “I’ll have to make some arrangements, but, yes of course, I’ll stay.” Just take it one day at a time, and think about who you can ask to help. When the doctor has written up his instructions and discussed it with the staff, he leaves Gugunya, returning to his trailer to pick up the stones. The two women avoid eye contact with each other: the one to face her fears and guilt at causing her overworked daughter more grief, yet unable to dismiss her and face the hospitalisation by herself; the other to bend her fuzzy mind in the direction of making plans, cancelling important work, contacting Jack. The one good thing about this is that Sohrab will manage the children and maybe Sandro might hang around for a few more days to help him. Perhaps Sandro might be able to get through to the kids, or take them somewhere to distract them from stirring up their father. It’s Thursday afternoon, so they’ll both be home because teachers are at an in-service. But tomorrow they should go to school. If he would look after them, that would take the edge off her worries. She feels restless, unable to step out until her mother has settled because it will terrify her if she finds herself with no one by her side, but she needs to make some calls in private.
Three hours pass while the women sit in silence, except for the odd desultory remark, each wrapped in fear. When the time comes, and her mother is finally snoozing, Marra finds it difficult to stand because one of her legs has gone to sleep. The thick ache in her chest has grown. As the nurses check on the drip which has been steadily administering life giving drugs to her mother, Marra excuses herself, and reaches for her phone. It is completely dead.
* * *
Interminable discussions are not really Jack’s thing resulting in frequent snowflake drifts of consciousness onto ways of breaking up work with some pleasure. Being in Melbourne for four whole days, two wasted doing this, sucks big time. Although, he has managed to miss half a day. Benefits, though, include catching long term friends in the evenings and checking out the night life. Much as he delights in and hungers for the desert’s serenity, he does have other needs. He’s been working too hard, resulting in some particularly spooky delusions, but family is struggling, and when family struggles, Jack’s life became more complicated. His phone vibrates in his pocket and, glancing around the room at the deeply engrossed participants in the meeting, he decides to check it. Seeing Sandro’s name come up spreads warmth through him. Could he be on his way back to Melbourne? There’s another place he can stay. These visits, though regular, are not so frequent that he can easily make time for special friends whose numerous quantity make it difficult to spread his time effectively; seeing each of them, as well as juggling geography and time. A stab of dismay at the thought that Sandro is now going to be another pull on his time dampens his reaction slightly making him decide to delay responding until he’s thought through his needs more. Molly’s text asking him to come and get her is ignored. Someone a lot closer than him can respond to that one. She has friends for goodness sake. Probably just feeling sorry for herself. Her lovable vibrancy has dimmed slightly in the wake of the trouble her constant petulance causes. Roll on adulthood!
The vote takes him by surprise. No idea what he’s voting on, he asks for clarity making it sound as if there is some small point of concern, guilt tugging at his better self because these issues affect people’s lives. To his dismay, the vote is promptly followed by another important discussion point being squeezed into the place where afternoon tea should have been. Fortunately, one of his greatest concerns for clients grasps his attention for the following hour and a half at which point, he and all his fellow workers stagger out of the room and down into the bar of the Hotel where the meeting is being held. Stoically ignoring every buzz as typical of Molly’s demands, he leaves at a reasonable hour deciding to walk the streets, picking up dumplings as he passes, on his way to a particularly lively friend who will not require forward notice, or explanations. One night off will do him the world of good, he decides. And they can all deal with their own shit. Tomorrow, he will get in touch with Sandro.
* * *
It is an impulsive and foolish idea to suggest flying to Adelaide, but it pushes its way into consciousness taking up residence there and refusing to leave until I have contacted Sandro to make the offer, when it becomes tangled in other emotions such as guilt and embarrassment. Part of me wants to see Sohrab again. Telling myself it’s just a small part appears to diminish the bad feelings until I forget for a moment to tell myself that I have only the purest of motives, at which point they all rush to shore knocking me off my feet. Sandro is unsure. That throws me. When I suggest I’d love to meet his siblings it appears to make sense to him, but it soon becomes clear that the reason he is hesitating is because he doesn’t know what to do with me. “Hang back Mum,” he says. “We may need to fly Adam to Melbourne, yet.”
The thought of Sohrab and his family in Melbourne comes with mixed feelings. I’m intensely jealous of Marra while experiencing attachment to her children because they are his; flesh of his flesh; the same flesh in Sandro who is moving away from me as well, now that he has a new family. Part of my mind is keeping Jarrod in a separate vault, safe from these intrusions which would hurt him deeply. Clearly it is possible to love two, or even more, people with intense and wholly different attachments. When Jarrod rings to check in with me, I tell him what’s going on with Sandro and my desire to go to him, to support him through this difficult time. The response is careful, considered. Typically Jarrod. “Hang back a day or two, dear. It may be too much for them to meet you at this stage. If they come to Melbourne, we could go in and meet them then. Once it’s all over, eh?”
I hate his capacity to sit back and await events. All of me wants to leap off the edge of a cliff, while he’s taking a thoughtful stroll along the path. The fact that he is right only makes it so much more difficult to tolerate. Please let Sandro come home to me, Love. I can’t do this. I can’t let him go. I want him here in Melbourne. With Bridey. Making my grandchildren. I begin to sob with loneliness and fear and longing for something I can’t articulate even to myself. If only the girls were around to share this.
