Facing the sun, p.24
Facing the Sun, page 24
They park in the hospital car park, and they all walk in together. Despite his fear, he notes how unusually friendly and un-hospital like it is. There is colour everywhere. He is shown into a ward with unusual furniture so he doesn’t have to take off all his clothes and climb into a white bed with stiff controlling sheets. Shaped in a curve, coloured, and sporting cushions like a couch, he can hang around looking relatively normal. It helps his nerves. All his life, he’s not looked normal. His parents make silly conversation which means they are more nervous than he is. At least, he can stop himself from babbling. They keep checking watches and getting coffee and trying to entertain him, until he wants to scream. Jack is coming in later. Once they know how the day is looking, they’ll contact him, and he said he would come. Sandro is a good brother, but too much of a stranger. He’d rather have Jack. Jack had helped him out of so many plights over the years, and he never told him off. Sandro, on the other hand, asks awkward questions. Perhaps that’s because he’d been brought up by a lawyer.
He startles, half jumping to his feet, when someone in green pants with a stethoscope comes through the door. Turns out to be a male nurse who takes his pulse and checks his heart and all that stuff. He is really friendly, which helps. The next thing after that is, they decide they want to redo all the MRIs. If he doesn’t die from brain tumours, he is going to die from radiation, because apparently there are going to be masses of machines peering into his head all through the operation, taking a good look around. Sandro goes outside to do stuff while this is going on. It is after lunch (not that he’d had any lunch) before the team come to talk to him about what they are going to do. By that time Sandro is back, there’s been no opportunity to call in Jack, and Adam is starving.
“We’re going to take you into surgery soon, so we’ll shift you to a different area.” His fear escalates. Here goes. This is it. “There’s some more news though.” Startled, they all peer at the speaker. Her voice is cheerful; not at all worried sounding. Maybe it is good news. When it comes, he’s not sure how to feel. “There doesn’t seem to be cancer anywhere near the parts of the brain which control your eyes, Adam.” The surgeon smiles. “But we’re going to have a looksee while we’ve got you in our power.” Her friendliness makes this sound like a car tune up. “But, it will mean you’ll have two extra holes in your head.” When he looks puzzled, she says, “Eyes, ears, mouth…” He feels foolish. Even little kids know that!
Before he knows it, he’s being pushed in a wheelchair like a cripple, to face the music. He begins to panic reaching for his mother’s hand which she grips so tightly he has to ask her to loosen off a bit. His Dad walks beside them with one hand on his son’s shoulder. It is his silence which spooks Adam the most. They give him an injection to settle him down which works immediately, after checking they’ve got the right person and all that stuff. Again, they ask him about his symptoms for about the fortieth time, at which point he closes his eyes for a minute in frustration. When he opens them again, although they’d been just there, his parents are gone, and he is in a different room on his own. They hadn’t even said goodbye. Someone comes to check on him and tells him it’s all over. He is alive. Wriggling his toes is the best thing he’s ever experienced. The relief is enormous. He knows where he is and what has happened. A wave of excitement sweeps over him just as the surgeon comes and leans over the bed.
“Well done Adam. Get some sleep now. I’ll let your parents know you’re through.” Sleep seems like an excellent plan.
* * *
A pounding in his head bothers him. Perhaps things are getting worse quickly, and they won’t make it in time. He lets out a whimper of distress which brings someone to him in an instant. Too embarrassed to tell the nurse what he’s thinking, he asks her how long he has to wait. Puzzled, she asks him how he’s feeling, and he tells her his head is aching a lot. He watches her fiddle with the dials on his machine remembering, with as much excitement as he can manage, that he’s already come through the operation. “Where are my parents,” he asks.
“They popped in to see you about half an hour ago, but you were asleep.” He nods, feeling himself slipping away again.
The second time he wakes he asks for food, and the nurse brings him a sandwich which he eats half of before feeling nauseous and pushing it away. “What time is it?”
“Dinner time,” his mother answers as she approaches the bed. Looking around, he can see other beds with pumping machines and flashing lights.
He turns back to her. “What’s the story Mum? Did they fix me? Am I going to be alright again?”
She smiles, sitting down on the chair beside him. “Your Dad and Sandro and Jack are all at the pub having a celebratory beer. They’re not allowed in, and you’re supposed to sleep as much as you can.” He gives this some thought. It sounds good, but she hasn’t answered the question.
“Tell me. What happened? Then I’ll sleep.” His eyes attempt to close, but he forces them open.
“The tumour was a serious one, but they’re hopeful because the whole thing seemed to come out in one piece. It’s been taken to the lab, so it can be checked.” Her low voice sounds very relieved. “We’ll know more when the results come back.”
“So that means I’ll be able to walk normally again?”
“The surgeon said she can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. It was only pressure on the base of the brain that was causing the trouble.”
“Then what about my eyes,” he asks.
“That’s something we didn’t talk much about, Adam. “There’s no tumour there. That’s all we know. Now go back to sleep. I’m sure they’ll look at that more in the morning, or when you’re wide awake.” His eyes, letting him down again, shut of their own accord, and that’s all until the dreams begin.
The room is full of pretty cute girls dancing while they pretend not to notice being watched by groups of boys all mucking around and making a lot of noise. His head aches and he wishes they’d turn the music down. It isn’t even a decent song; just lots of pings and beats which don’t make sense, but the crowd doesn’t care, just keeps on dancing. He walks past them looking for the DJ to ask him about the track, and as he pushes through some girls he hears them muttering something about him wearing a stupid hat. He wants to tell them he’s just had a head operation, but he knows he’s in Melbourne, and a stranger. They start giggling as some boys began to jostle him trying to prevent him from getting through to the front. “You don’t belong here smart arse!” someone says as they crowd around him. He begins to panic and feels a scream of terror rise because he can’t see where he’s going. He begins thrashing out with his hands and feels them grabbed and held. He doesn’t have any strength to struggle against the hold
“It’s okay Adam. I’m here. You are okay.” His eyes clear, and he stares at his father feeling the firm warm grip of both his hands in his.
* * *
Middle Eastern food had seemed like a good idea, until I begin to worry about looking like I’m trying to attract Sohrab. When I start to root around in my mind for ideas about what to feed an aboriginal family, I shake myself sharply. Jarrod’s suggestion he cook seafood on the outside hotplate feels right. It is very likely everyone will be happy with that, and if not, they can have something else. What? I have no idea. Baba ganoush would be a good dip. A cob with cream cheese and French onion soup mix works with most people. Everyone, except Adam, is coming. Even Jack’s new friend whom the family had met at the airport. Sandro insists Olaf is a very, very, new friend. As in this week! So I’m not to ask questions about their relationship. I recall his blonde hair and blue eyes with the tanned skin and begin to worry about what Scandinavians like to eat. By the time the menu is settled, I have unsettled myself completely. Jarrod appears behind me massaging my shoulders in silence. Lately, he’s been distant, but my concerns have totally distracted me. I try to lean back against his chest but I’m too tense to stay for much more than a minute. Pacing around the house is getting too much. I head for the garden, hoping to tune into the spiritual. All I find are more aspects of my life which aren’t working. In the end, I change into walking shoes and speed around a nearby walking track as though I’m being chased by a rabid dog, reaching home again flustered and unprepared for the immediate arrival of eight guests.
Putting on my social, ‘I’m okay’ face and pinning a smile firmly to my lips, I take coats and bags and accept wine, chocolates and flowers, bustling about with them, completely lost as to what to do with it all and what to do with all these people. Jarrod has abandoned me to char vegetables. Frozen in the middle of the large living room, I realise that the power to think has deserted me completely. It is Olaf who offers to take some of the armful suggesting I might like him to pour some wine. Gratefully, I hand over the coats pointing to our open bedroom door. On his return, he whispers to me to put him to work because he doesn’t know anyone and needs something to do. Marra and Jack break away to discuss their mother’s state of mind and health, Marra struggling to focus as she scans her husband’s face while he watches me. Bridey and Sandro disappear out the back to visit Jarrod.
After the freeze, I head into the kitchen where I push plates and bowls around the oversized table distractedly, until becoming aware of being watched. Looking up, I’m confronted by Sohrab standing motionless in the doorway with an enigmatic expression on his face. He looks so old. “How are you Gabriella?” I find myself unable to answer the question. “This is a good thing that you do.” My confusion encourages him to continue. “To make dinner for my family. I thank you.”
The freeze begins to melt. “I am sorry about your son, Sohrab. It must be very frightening for you still. Even though he’s doing well today.” His eyes fill with tears, and I think, he always was very emotional. “It’s the only thing I could think of to do,” I tell him. “I’m finding it a bit overwhelming.” I seem to have temporarily mislaid the capacity to control what comes out of my mouth. “Sorry. Not the dinner. I mean meeting with you again. It’s an extraordinarily strange experience.” He nods. “How is your wife coping with Adam’s illness; and her mother’s? It must be extremely difficult.”
“You must ask her yourself. She would like to know you,” he adds, probably inaccurately. “There has been much to be frightened of. We still don’t know what will happen with Adam’s eyesight.” Further conversation is prevented by Bridey and Sandro coming in from outside.
“How are you Baba?” Sandro asks, peering at him. “Are you up to coming out and meeting my step-father?”
His father shrugs. “It must be done.”
The two head out onto the patio where Jarrod’s expression tightens as he moves zucchini and eggplant around the hot plate. But, always the gentleman, Sandro’s step-father asks the questions and is startled when his visitor thanks him for raising his son. He’s left unsure whether it is gratitude or jealousy in the tone, so he smiles formally and begins to talk about food. As often happens, Sohrab begins to offer commentary on cooking methods and recipes, but Jarrod only nods and continues, their conversation slipping away into silence. Sandro is feeling awkward and wondering how his step-father is judging Sohrab, but he begins to share some desert experiences and then turns the conversation towards Josh. For the first time, he picks up something odd from Jarrod. He seems to be making a bit more of the visit to the magistrate than is strictly necessary. They are meeting together tomorrow to prepare. There’s also competition happening between the two men, guarded and polite, but there just the same. He decides to stick around out there in case things get complicated, but he is torn between that and wanting to check in on his mother. And then there’s Jack. Roll on the end of this gathering, he says to himself.
Alone with Gabriella, Bridey smiles slightly scanning the kitchen for distraction. “I’m sorry about lunch the other day, darling.” The plea for understanding isn’t something Bridey feels she needs although she is feeling uncomfortable after her very first experience of Gabriella not being completely perfect. (As is Josh, who is also wondering about why his detention at the house was suddenly lifted, and also what will happen when he returns; if he returns!)
“I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose Sandro,” Bridey offers. “And then face him and his wife decades later. How is Jarrod about all this?” Hopefully, that’s not too intrusive a question. Sometimes, she can’t differentiate between her mother’s critical nosiness and appropriate curiosity.
Gabriella shrugs. “I’m too caught up in my own pain to ask.” The pause this creates is uncomfortable, and she suddenly remembers Olaf. “I’m going to ask Jack’s new friend if he would like to slice some of this fresh bread for me. He wants something to do.”
“Jack and Sandro have become quite close,” she hesitates, suddenly realising this could well add to Gabriella’s distress. “They all seem to think it’s natural to invite everyone.” Thinking about her own family, she shudders. “It takes a bit of getting used to.” Her slight grin is rueful. “In fact, it’s interesting. Being part of a big family; growing bigger every minute!”
“Let’s take some of this through before Jarrod calls, and I’ve wasted all the effort on starters.” Valiantly, Gabriella loads herself with two trays carrying them towards the lounge followed by Bridey with biscuits. In the doorway they meet Olaf coming to find his hostess, and she passes him a tray. Josh is sitting with Molly, the two staring at the gathering in silence. Marra stands beside Jack looking forlorn. Taking instant pity on her, she says, “Sohrab has gone with Sandro to meet my husband, Marra,” and receives a small nod in return. Inwardly groaning, she struggles to add something helpful, but can’t think of anything to say to the woman whose son is recovering from brain surgery and losing his eyesight a little more every day, in spite of it. Oh, to be able to extricate herself from this stupid situation she had created and go somewhere quiet where she could collect herself. Flashes of her own overwhelming Italian family creep in and are quickly dismissed as irrelevant. This is different. Shaking herself, she switches on hostess mode, telling Jack it’s good to meet him.
In return, he thanks her politely for allowing him to bring his friend. “We’ve only just met.” His sister, distracted from her misery, stares at him. “Yeah. I know. It’s odd for me to invite him, isn’t it?” Putting his hand over his niece’s mouth to prevent any comments of a puerile nature, he ducks any response by wrestling with Molly’s fury at his gagging of her. The two fight it out in the middle of the living area watched with amusement by their hostess, until Molly nips her uncle’s hand with her teeth causing him to threaten her with a fate worse than death. At this point, she intervenes, offering them food.
Josh accepts some cob loaf, digging deep into its centre for the dip, whilst avoiding Gabriella’s eyes.
Turning, Marra says, “We all like your son, Gabriella. What a lovely man he is!”
“Yeees. He can make quite an impression.” The two mothers draw together for a moment. “I’m glad he found his father, Marra. And you two, of course,” she says taking in Molly, “he’s always been missing something. It’s a shame my daughters are not here to meet you. They’re in Bali for another few days.”
Jack, keen to find Olaf, releases his niece who begins to pester about what she will do to fill in the next few days. “How about I stay with you, Jack?”
There’s no way they’d let her stay with Bridey, which is a shame. Their day together while Adam was having his surgery was helped by Bridey taking her shopping in the middle of the city. Jack had slipped her a hundred dollars for her birthday and Sandro, seeing this, decided to match it. This meant she could shop to her heart’s content without her parents telling her what she could and could not buy. The day was glorious; except for the moments when she remembered her brother and felt a shudder pass over her. At one point she’d asked Bridey if she thought it would help Adam if she didn’t buy anything else, but Bridey had smiled and assured her things don’t work that way. Tonight, she is wearing new jeans and a bright yellow top which emphasises her boobs, but Josh doesn’t seem to notice; talking to her more about her shoes than anything. The argument about staying with Jack at his Hotel, is halted by Olaf appearing at the door and announcing the seafood is cooked. Nine people troupe towards the kitchen table arranging themselves wherever they find a space. Gabriella makes sure she is nowhere near Sohrab, but during the meal she is aware of his eyes on her often; about as often as her eyes wanted to watch him but were not allowed the freedom to do so.
Eventually, everyone leaves. The first to go are Marra and Sohrab, having hired a car which is assisted by Sohrab’s knowledge of Melbourne from when he was living in Dandenong. An awkward moment almost destroys the whole event when Gabriella asks him why he hadn’t been in touch with her during that period. Everyone freezes. It is Jarrod who draws their attention back from this precipice by telling the couple he hopes they find their son comfortable, and he is looking forward to meeting Sandro’s brother when he is well enough. The relief amongst the group is almost audible. They have decided to leave Molly with Gabriella. She loudly announces she would much prefer to stay with Jack. Not surprisingly, she is completely ignored by her uncle. Marra picks up a hint of something pass between her brother and Olaf. She is so delighted at the possibility that her embarrassment over her daughter’s extremely rude behaviour is temporarily forgotten. When they bid their hosts goodbye, thanking them for their hospitality and lovely food, she hesitates.
