Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins (32 page)

They’d announced
the flight from Sydney on the screens above the gate as “arrived”, so Oliver
had to be nearby.  On the far side of room, the baggage carousel began
turning and various articles of luggage began falling out of the chute. 
Ava’s hands had risen to her sides now and the bouncing had increased in tempo
until it was almost a hop.  Cole sighed.  He didn’t remember
ever
being so eager about someone’s return before. 

 Cole
recalled the awkward embraces of a man who was, for the most part, a complete
stranger.  Franklin Thomas had always seemed bigger than life to him; his
growling voice and heavy hands a part of a legend, not a real father at
all.  The arrivals gate and Ava faded in intensity as Cole was tugged back
to another sepia-tinted time.

He’d been five
years old then, his mother holding his hand on one side, Hanna on the other...

Cole had cried
all the way out to the airport and his mother had been angry, snapping at him
in the car and earning more tears.  Six months was a lifetime for a
five-year-old, and Cole's memory of the man from the summer had long since
faded into shadows.  The image of his father was a murky stranger
who’d  – once upon a long-ago time – sat in the empty chair in the den. 

Someone from a
fairy tale, not real at all. 

His absent
presence was imbued with ghostly terror, as Cole’s mother used him as a threat.
‘You wait until your father got back...’  was one of her favourite
warnings.  It left Cole hesitant and crying on the day of his return, his
mother furious.

“Stand up
straight,” she hissed, pinching his fingers together. 

Angela Thomas
had always been an anxious parent, but the arrival of her husband on leave a
few times a year threw her tenuous balance out of alignment.   Her
children’s behaviour became the barometer by which she measured the success of
these visits; the pressure on Cole and Hanna was immense.

“Ow, Mom,” Cole
whined, eyes swimming with tears, “that hurts.” 

He could feel
his chest tightening (a sure sign he was going to start bawling) and then Cole
knew she’d start shouting.  If he wasn’t able to stop, she’d start crying
too.  That was when things got really bad. 

Cole’s breaths
came in sharp pants and he frowned, his tiny face folding into an expression
that would one day etch a permanent line between his eyebrows, trying to force
the tears away by will alone.  At five, he was used to being in bed by
seven o’clock, and his father was scheduled to arrive at nine… a father who’d
been away so many months Cole no longer knew him.

“Don’t you start
crying again, young man,” Angela commanded, her fingers tightening into a
vise.  “Your father will be here any minute and I want you standing tall
when he arrives.”

Cole sniffled
just as Hanna looked down at him, catching his eye.  She was older by four
and a half years, though to Cole it felt like a lifetime.  He adored his
older sister; she was everything that Cole couldn’t be.  Standing in the
airport, Hanna winked, then made a funny face – letting her eyes wander
together and then out again (something Angela absolutely abhorred).  
Cole giggled and sniffed once more before the quivering of his lip had finally
stopped. 

Cole worshipped
Hanna. Her carefree grin and easy-going attitude made her the favourite of both
of Cole’s parents and all of their friends.  Hanna had a joke for
everything, and she included Cole in all of her games.  Hanna had dreams
of being an astronaut or a firefighter.  (“Girls can’t be firemen,” Cole
argued, but Hanna knew better.  She knew everything.)  She was
light-haired like their mother, but she was – even then – their father’s
favourite.  Late at night, Cole listened to Hanna’s quiet voice in the
darkness, telling him stories of adventurers and explorers and the feats they’d
done.

Here in the airport,
Cole’s eyes were on Hanna’s face.

“It’s alright,
buddy,” Hanna whispered.  “Just do what I showed you, okay?”

Hanna gave him a
gentle smile, squeezing his fingers three times – their secret code for ‘I love
you’ – and Cole nodded in response.  He and Hanna had been practising this
for days.  He had no idea what it meant, but he was going to do it. 
Hanna had asked, and that was reason enough.

He’d do anything
for her.

Up ahead, a
dark-haired man in a neatly pressed suit stepped through the arrivals gate. 
His face was tired, his shoulders bowed by the pressures of military
life.  He lifted his hand in greeting as he saw them, a wan smile on his
lips.  Seeing this signal, Angela put a tight hand on the children’s
shoulders, pushing them forward.

Following
Hanna’s lead, Cole stepped up next to his sister and pulled into a sharp
salute.  Frank Thomas – just a Major at this time – paused in surprise,
then smiled proudly seeing the display, his barking voice leaving Cole
trembling where he stood. 

“Now that’s a
soldier’s welcome!” he said with a laugh.   Angela came running
forward, stepping into his arms, the two of them doing an awkward dance as they
embraced over his baggage.

Cole was still
scared, but his sister was there beside him and that meant he was safe. 
He held his shaking hand to his forehead, waiting to be released, his eyes on
Hanna...

Cole pulled out
of his memory as Ava waved frantically back and forth, her broad grin making
her look like a child.  Cole  watched as Oliver waved through the
glass dividers separating them.  Ava’s father had a matching grin – an
older bookend of Ava’s – making him completely recognizable amongst the
crowd. 

He was a little
shorter than Cole and had a loose-framed build.  His colouring was
reminiscent of Ava’s, his greying hair darker than hers by two or three
shades.  The blue eyes and bowed lips were exactly the same and Cole found
himself noting the details of their shapes,
the resemblance
uncanny
. 
Oliver’s clothing was rumpled and worn.  He wore a steel grey suit, the
sleeves rolled up atop a black band shirt.  His hair brushed his collar
and he sported a scruffy beard.  Around his neck was a leather necklace
with several aboriginal beads in the centre. 

‘A character...’
 

The second
Oliver emerged, Ava bolted, sprinting forward and throwing her arms around her
father, legs leaving the ground.  Ava was crying and laughing, her face
lit from within.  Her father grinned, trying to pull back so he could take
a look at her, their love a tangible thing.   Not once did Cole
remember running to see his father.  There was a new emotion in his
chest.  He didn’t quite have a word to describe what it was, but it left
him aching for something he never had. 

Homesick for a
place that didn’t exist.

Shifting
awkwardly, Cole waited through their embrace.  As Ava stepped back, Oliver
slung his arm over Ava's shoulders, then turned to Cole . The older man stepped
forward, sticking out his hand, beaming happily.

“You must be
Cole,” he said, taking his hand in a firm grip.  “It’s great to meet
you!  Ava’s mentioned you a number of times.  Feels like I already
know you.”

Cole glanced to
Ava, feeling off-kilter.  He’d introduced
her
to Nina and his
father, but only for the worst possible reasons.  Ava smiled at him, her
face softer than usual. 
Younger.

“I’ve heard a
lot about you too, sir.” Cole said.  He stepped back, unsure what else to
do.

 “Nobody
calls me ‘sir’,” Oliver said with a chuckle, “I’d rather avoid that if I
can.  Sounds like I’m going to try to sell you shares in a pyramid
scheme.”

“Dad…” Ava
groaned.

“Right,” Cole
mumbled nervously. 

“Oliver’s fine,
Cole, just fine,” he said cheerfully.  “It is good to meet you.”

“You too, sir...
I mean Oliver.  Sorry,” Cole stammered, shaking his head, “military
father.  Old habits die hard.”

“No problem,” he
laughed.  “But don’t expect me to answer to it.”

Ava rolled her
eyes.

“Like you’d
ever
choose not to talk,” she teased.  “Get Dad going on any topic, and he
could yak on forever.”

Oliver chuckled,
motioning for the two of them to follow him to the luggage pick-up.  Ava
squeezed Cole’s hand as they walked together. For the first time since he was
introduced, Cole felt the tightness across his chest ease. 

‘
He’s a lot
like Hanna,’
his mind offered.  He wasn’t sure where that thought had
come from.

In minutes, the
bags came around the carousel and Oliver began passing a seemingly endless
number of them to Cole and Ava. They were weighed down by luggage, each
shouldering a heavy load.  Oliver grinned as he passed more items, adding
one after the other until they were almost comically laden with suitcases and
duffel bags.

“C’mon, c’mon,”
he ordered in mock-seriousness, passing the luggage around, “you’re both
young... carry your share here, people!”

“Geez, Dad,” Ava
said with a snort, “You think you brought enough crap back?”

Oliver chuckled,
nodding.

“Well, I tried
for the kitchen sink too, but I couldn’t find a bag big enough to fit.”

Ava groaned.

“How long have
you been working on that joke, Ollie?”

He chuckled,
bumping into her so that she knocked into Cole, almost unsettling his
load.  The three of them laughed, voices rising together.  Cole
grinned, watching them.. 
‘Ava’s right,’
he realized,
‘Oliver is
a lot like an older version of Chim…’

“Long enough
that I should be getting some laughter out of it.  Christ – you’re a hard
crowd.”

Ava and her
father began to tease and harass one another, jostling back and forth. 
‘This
is how reunions should be,’
he thought,
‘with jokes and laughter and a
girl bouncing back and forth in excitement.
 
Not standing stiff and
uncomfortable and afraid.’
 

 Oliver
gestured them toward the doors.

“Might as well
get moving.  I’m on Sydney time and my body’s starting to shut down here.”

The group slowly
made their way through the doors to the sidewalk.  Ava dumped her bags
first, turning to the two men beside her.

“If you guys
don’t mind waiting, I’ll grab the truck,” she offered.

Oliver and Cole settled
their loads onto the cement as Ava jogged off, leaving the two men
together.  The older man pulled out a pack of cigarettes, cupping his hand
around the end as he lit it, then taking a long draw.  His eyes drifted
over to Cole.  The blue depths were still warm, but they’d taken on a
serious cast.  It struck Cole that Ava’s father was measuring him up.

“So, have I
scared you away from my daughter yet, Cole?”  Oliver asked.  He
smiled as he said it, but there was a subtle challenge underscoring his words.

“W- what?” 
Cole stammered, unnerved.

Oliver took a
pull on his cigarette, the ember flaring.  Cole found himself drawn to the
light at the end, unable to look away.  It felt like the ground was moving
under his feet, things unsettled.  He was suddenly desperate for Ava to
return.

“You’re standing
on the outside here,” Oliver said, gesturing to Cole, the cigarette bouncing
between his lips as he talked.  “You’re watching the two of us... but
you’re
someplace else,
Cole
.
  Makes me wonder why.” 

Oliver tipped
his head in an exact reproduction of Ava often made, the gesture unsettling
Cole with the similarity.   Ava’s warning from before was ringing in
his ears: 
‘He has this way of reading people, knowing things about
them that he shouldn’t be able to tell…  I don’t know how to describe it
better than that.  He’s just really good at understanding what makes
people tick.’

“I was… I was
just thinking about some things that happened when I was a kid,” Cole
admitted.  “Kind of… threw me off a bit.”  He still felt off balance,
but he was determined to make this work. “And no, sir, you haven’t scared me
off yet.” 

“Oliver,” the
man laughed.  “Sir. Sounds like someone I wouldn’t trust.”

Cole ducked his
chin, blushing.

“Right… sorry…
I’ll um… I’ll try to remember that.”

Oliver was still
chuckling when as Ava's black truck rolled to a stop beside them. He stepped
forward, tossing his arm over Cole's shoulder. 

“Glad to hear
you’re up for the challenge,” Oliver said with a grin, jabbing his thumb into
the centre of his own chest. “‘Cause Ava’s worth any of the baggage that comes
with her.”

Cole glanced up
to see Ava watching them.  There was a wary expression on her face. 
He wanted to answer ‘
so am I’
... but he wasn’t sure he entirely believed
it.