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Authors: Laurene Kelly

Tags: #Young Adult Fiction, Domestic Violence, Recovery

Still Waving (11 page)

BOOK: Still Waving
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‘All those piercings Jasmine has, she'd leak like a sieve at the beach.'

‘Some of them aren't real. They're screw-ons.'

‘I used to have some, but I let them close over. Couldn't be bothered looking the same as everyone else. It was like a competition to see whose face
could have the most holes. I'm totally over it.' Kate stared out the window.

‘I sometimes wear the screw-ons when we go out, so I look normal.'

Kate laughed. ‘I used to be desperate to be one of the crowd. I hung with what my mum called a bad lot. I got into a bit of trouble, so to avoid worse things I concentrated on surfing. It kept Mum off my back.'

I wondered what the trouble had been. I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to share too much with Kate otherwise I'd have to reciprocate with stories of my own. I'd told Phoebe and Jasmine that I'd lied to Kate about my parents.

The buzzer rang. I automatically opened the door and waited for my friends to come up the stairs. I felt throbbing in my head and the light at the bottom of the stairs appeared very bright. I hoped I wasn't getting a headache.

‘Hi Jules. This is Trudy, my cousin.'

Phoebe's cousin was Vietnamese. I was stuck for words. It was so unexpected. I thought her cousin would look like us. I thought of Dad and some of the things he'd said about the Vietnamese.

‘What's the matter?' Phoebe asked.

‘Nothing, sorry. Hi Trudy. Come in.' I was ashamed my father's words echoed in my head.

‘Phoebe's uncle has a Vietnamese wife,' Jasmine whispered to me.

I thought of my own Aboriginal cousins I'd found out about. I felt ashamed at my reaction and hoped Trudy hadn't noticed.

Phoebe introduced Trudy to Kate on the balcony.

‘Great view!' Trudy scanned the panorama.

‘Do you have a Vietnamese name as well as an Anglo one?' Kate asked Trudy.

‘Yes. I'm named Trung-Nhi. It's the name of an ancient Vietnamese queen. It's embarrassing. Great things are expected of me by my Vietnamese family.'

‘I think you're lucky,' Kate said. ‘Your mum must have wanted the best for you to name you Trung-Nhi.'

‘You know about Trung-Nhi?' Trudy's eyes widened in amazement.

‘I also know of her sister, Trung-Toc. You haven't got a sister have you?

Trudy laughed and sat down next to Kate.

‘You're pretty cool. How come you know about those queens?'

‘Asian Studies,' Kate answered.

I was envious. Kate knew everything. I wished I'd done Asian Studies. The light was too bright. I had to get inside.

‘Anyone want a drink?' I asked, feeling slightly dizzy.

Everybody did. As I entered the kitchen, I felt chilled. The sink looked far away and I grabbed the bench. The light changed. Shapes changed. I felt like something had hit me in the head. A spectre of Dad's ghost swirled in front of me. I started to vomit and just made it to the sink. What's happening to me? I screamed silently. I felt like my head was cracking. I had to lie down.

I staggered into my room and fell on the bed. I heard someone calling my name from far away. I couldn't answer. A firework display was going off in my head.

‘Jules. Are you all right?' Someone was shaking me. I groaned.

‘What's the matter?' A muffled voice whispered.

‘Let's get a doctor,' another muffled voice.

‘I'll ring her aunt.'

Stop the voices. They hurt. Stop the noise. Stop the light. Stop the pain.

I woke up with Aunt Jean and a stranger standing over me.

‘Are you awake?'

I stared at Aunt Jean until she came into focus.

‘What happened?' I finally mouthed.

The stranger replied. ‘I'm unsure at this stage. I suggest we do a CAT scan to be on the safe side.'

I tried to gather my thoughts into one neat bundle. CAT scan. Cat? Was there a cat somewhere? What's going on?

‘What time is it?' I asked.

Aunt Jean looked at the doctor. ‘Four o'clock.'

Four o'clock. My memory was coming back. I'd been getting a drink for everyone. That was in the morning. I'd lost hours.

‘Where are the others?'

‘Phoebe rang me at about eleven. I came home and you were sound asleep. I rang Dr Troyat who came as soon as she could.'

‘I didn't want to rush you to hospital,' Dr Troyat said. ‘I'd rather just keep an eye on you at home for now. If it's viral meningitis though, your condition will deteriorate and you'll have to go to hospital.'

Meningitis! I nearly died of fright at the mention of the virus.

‘What about meningococcal?' I stumbled.

‘No, not meningococcal. I'm positive about that. You don't have the symptoms. Tell me was the light a problem?'

‘Yes. It was too bright and sort of flashing.'

‘Mmm, suggests viral meningitis. Has this happened before?'

‘No, not really.'

‘Not really?' The doctor arched an eyebrow.

‘Well. I've sort of sometimes felt like I was going to spin out, lights flashing, but it always goes away. I've never had a pain like this before.'

‘Mmm. I see. Are you under more stress than usual?'

Aunt Jean looked at me.

‘Not really.'

‘Ahem,' Aunt Jean butted in.

‘Well it's not as stressful as you think,' I said to her.

‘You were a little more stressed than usual last night.'

‘I went surfing this morning.'

‘Did you hit your head, or fall on your neck or back?' the doctor asked.

‘No. I'm too good for that,' I said, cheekily.

‘I think you're already getting better. You will need to rest over the next few days. No surfing at this stage. It may well be a stress-related episode and just be a one-off.'

‘What about partying?' Aunt Jean asked.

‘Definitely not, all that noise and those stimulating lights, not good.' The doctor was dismissive.

No surfing. How could this be? It was the most peaceful relaxing place for me. I was likely to get more stressed if I didn't go surfing. The rave, I didn't give a damn about missing.

‘I'd die if I couldn't go surfing.'

‘Don't be ridiculous, young lady. You will not die if you don't, but you may die if you do. I'll do the CAT scan Monday. I advise you to rest.'

‘Thank you doctor. I'll be back, Jules.' Aunt Jean walked with the doctor out of my room.

I wondered how long they'd been staring at me before I'd woken up. I had a real excuse for not going to the rave. Was this the way my wish had been granted?

Aunt Jean returned. ‘Would you like anything?'

‘I don't know what happened.'

‘How are you feeling now?'

‘Strange. A bit surreal, like not all here or something. I'm glad the curtains are shut. The light really hurts.'

‘I'll keep an eye on your temperature.'

‘It was so scary and painful, Aunt Jean.' I felt familiar tears well up.

‘I know, darling. Rest and I'm sure you'll feel better.'

Aunt Jean kissed me lightly and tiptoed out of the room.

CHAPTER 10
Friday Evening

I was slightly aware Aunt Jean had come in to my room a few times. I was too out of it to speak. When I woke up, I tried desperately to work out why this freaky spin-out happened. My head was like cotton wool, all fluffy thoughts shredding and scattering all over my brain.

‘Jules.' A soft familiar voice.

‘Toby.'

We hugged and I burst into tears.

‘Don't cry.'

I noticed tears in Toby's eyes.

‘Did you hear what happened?'

‘Freaky. You're not going to die, are you?' Toby looked frightened.

‘You know I won't. The doctor thinks it might be viral meningitis or maybe even something called a stress-related episode!'

Toby sat silently.

‘I lost all this time. I might have been asleep, but it didn't feel like sleep. It felt like nothing. You know. A black hole.' My words were an inadequate
explanation.

‘You mean death.'

‘No. I don't know how to describe it. It was like a big black hole.'

‘I reckon you died.'

‘I didn't die, Toby. I just sort of fainted.'

‘All right, still sounds spooky though.'

‘What's happening out there?' I indicated the lounge room with my eyes.

‘They're yakking. They get on all right for strangers.'

‘How's the farm?'

‘The same.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well I know our house isn't there anymore, but the trees and sheep and dirt look the same.'

I laughed. ‘Ruby said it was bloody hot.'

‘Too hot! I'd forgotten about the flies. Bloody millions of them hanging around the sheep.'

‘What's it like living with Uncle Wayne?'

‘Cool. He's nothing like Dad.'

I looked away.

‘A good egg and a bad egg!' Toby stated. ‘Uncle Wayne told me when he was growing up he was called a bad egg. Dad was the good egg.'

I pondered on this. I wondered what made the good egg go bad. Was the Vietnam War entirely to
blame for scrambling Dad?

‘Did you hear there's an appeal?'

‘Yeah.'

Dad's letter floated into my mind. ‘Toby?'

‘What?'

‘Remember Mum would have said, “don't say what”.'

Toby flashed, ‘So what!'

I ignored his anger.

‘I think part of what made this spin-out happen was …' I looked at my top drawer. Toby's eyes followed. ‘I think Dad's letter has stressed me to the max. I wanted to tear it up and throw it away, but I just couldn't.'

Toby looked at me with sad eyes. ‘Why?'

‘I don't know. I just couldn't do it.'

We sat in silence. I stared at the drawer. Toby had his head bowed and his hands clenched.

‘Do you want to read it?' Toby asked quietly.

‘I don't know. That's what tortures me. Aunt Jean said she'd read it.'

‘What? It's none of her damn business.' Toby stood up and walked to the window. He started playing with the curtain.

‘She didn't mean any harm. It was more like to see if it was suitable.'

‘Suitable?'

‘Toby, go easy. She thought she could assess.'

‘Assess?'

‘Toby. Don't give me a headache. I'm just saying Aunt Jean meant well. Of course I wouldn't let her read it. I'm not an idiot.'

‘I'm sorry. It's just that I'm sick of it all.'

‘So am I.'

‘It's weird you know. When I'm up there on the farm, it's too full-on to think about anything. At night I'm so tired, I'm asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. I thought I'd have nightmares but I don't. I must save 'em up for here,' Toby said wistfully.

‘Daymares,' I laughed.

‘You're not wrong. I'd forgotten about the quiet of the bush. The space. No other bugger for miles.'

‘Yeah, I miss that sometimes.'

‘Do you miss the sheep?'

‘I think farming's cruel, you know that. I don't miss seeing them suffering, that's for sure.'

‘Uncle Wayne's different.'

‘You said that in your postcard. How's he different?'

‘He likes sheep. He reckons they're smart. He talks to them. When we go in a paddock, they come up to him. You know how with Dad they'd run, and Dad would yell at Jesse and blame her. With Uncle Wayne it doesn't happen. Even Susie, his dog, is friends with the sheep.'

‘Jesse was a good sheep dog.'

‘I know. Dad confused her by yelling. It made her look like she wasn't a good work dog.'

‘Poor Jesse.' Tears welled in my eyes.

‘Don't start blubbering.'

‘Don't be cruel. I can't help it.'

‘God Jules, I reckon you've cried from Monday to Sunday for two years.'

‘So what.'

‘No wonder you get a headspin, you've probably dried your brain out with all those tears.'

‘Thanks for your sympathy.' I wiped the tears away. ‘You're hard on me because you're too scared to cry because of all that stuff, you know, boys don't cry. At least I don't hide everything.'

Toby was silent.

‘We do have to decide something about Dad's letter while you're here.'

‘What'll we do?'

‘I don't know. There are two choices. Get rid of it without reading it, or read it.'

‘I want to read it.'

‘Toby, you said you never wanted to read it.'

‘I've changed my mind.'

I studied his face. He wasn't smiling. A frown crept across his forehead.

‘Are you sure?'

‘I just want to get it over and done with. If we destroy it now, when I'm fifty or something, I'll probably wonder what the bloody thing said.'

‘I think that's why I've kept it.'

‘Do you want to read it now?'

I was alarmed. ‘No. Not now. Later.'

‘How much later?'

‘I don't know. I think we need to do it when we're alone, when Aunt Jean's out.'

‘When's that likely to be?'

‘Maybe tomorrow sometime. I was meant to go to a rave tomorrow night. The doctor said I couldn't.'

‘I bet you're shattered,' Toby said grinning.

‘It's the best news I've had.'

We laughed.

‘I was meant to ask if you wanted anything to eat.'

‘I'm not hungry yet. I still feel a bit sick. You know vomit.'

‘Are you going to come and say hello to Uncle Wayne, or should he come and see you?'

‘No. I'll try and get up. Do you want to hear something else strange that happened today?'

‘What?'

I struggled to find the words to explain what had happened when I met Trudy.

‘I met this cousin of Phoebe's.'

‘That would be strange if she's like Phoebe.'

‘Toby. The cousin was Vietnamese, well not actually Vietnamese because she was born here.'

‘So?'

‘It spun me out.'

‘Why?'

‘I think it was all Dad's shit frightening me. You know how he went on and on about the Vietnamese. Some of the things he said, I guess, stuck in my mind. I felt ashamed.'

‘There are Vietnamese kids at school.'

‘I know. I've never really made friends with any of them.'

‘What happened?' Toby asked.

‘I just sort of stared at her.'

Toby laughed. ‘She must have thought you were an idiot.'

‘I think I insulted her.'

‘You didn't mean to.'

‘I know. It's just that it wasn't long after that I sort of lost reality and vomited and everything.'

‘How weird.'

‘I don't know what to say to her. I feel so embarrassed.'

‘Avoid her.'

‘Toby, she's staying at Phoebe's.'

‘Avoid her as well.'

‘I don't think that's the solution. I want to see her
again, to check out if the same thing happens. What if every time I meet a Vietnamese person, I spin out?'

Toby laughed. ‘Imagine what would happen if you went to a Vietnamese restaurant.' Toby collapsed on the floor and kicked his legs, up and down.

‘Stop it,' I demanded. ‘Don't tease. It hurts my head.'

‘I reckon it's cos of Dad,' Toby said seriously.

‘You might be right. My reaction was probably because of the terrible things Dad said about all Asians, but particularly Vietnamese people.'

‘Everything bad is his bloody fault,' Toby said angrily.

‘Do you talk about it with anyone?'

‘Uncle Wayne sometimes. A bit with Ruby about the trial and stuff the other day when I saw her. What about you?'

‘Ruby, my counsellor, Phoebe and Jasmine, and Aunt Jean of course. I think about it every day. If I didn't have surfing, I'd probably be …'

‘Crazy.' Toby jumped off the bed. ‘I'm hungry. Are you coming or what?'

‘In a minute.'

I felt a bit woozy, but I was happy to see Toby. I wanted to get up and get better. I put my legs over the side of the bed. I waited a minute. When I stood up, I was a bit shaky. I held on to the chest of drawers
and straightened up. I felt quite weak. It didn't matter that the doctor said not to surf. At this rate I wouldn't even make it to the bedroom door.

‘Julie.' It was Aunt Jean. ‘Are you all right?'

I sat on the bed. ‘A bit woozy.'

‘Don't get up. Stay in bed.'

‘I think I should come and say hello to Uncle Wayne.'

‘Wayne will understand that you're not well enough.'

‘No, I'll be right. I'm sick of lying here.'

‘Julie, you have to take it easy.'

‘I'll sit quietly. Surely that can't hurt.' I glared. ‘I want company, I'm lonely.' I burst into tears.

Aunt Jean came and hugged me. ‘Oh Julie, come on, I'll get your dressing gown.'

I walked slowly into the lounge room. Uncle Wayne stood up.

‘Hello Julie. Sorry to hear you're a bit crook.' He put out his hand for me to shake.

I was too weak to offer much grip back.

‘Thanks. I'm feeling a bit better now.'

‘That's good.'

I sensed Uncle Wayne was a bit awkward around me. I think he's scared. I'd been very rude to him when we first met. I was angry at my family for all their secrets and lies. I took it out on him. I was over
it now, but I don't think Wayne realised that I wasn't going to bite his head off.

I wondered if Uncle Wayne had asked Toby the best way to approach me. Toby would say to take no notice of me. I could hear Toby in my head, saying Jules goes mad every month, like clockwork. He used to call me a raving lunatic. I'd agree with him and tell him to keep out of my space or I'd knuckle him.

‘Do you want anything to eat?' Aunt Jean was fussing about me, tucking my legs in a crocheted blanket.

I felt warm and cared for. I was already feeling better and wondered if I could handle a cup of tea.

‘I'd like a cup of tea,' I said.

Toby jumped up. ‘I'll get it.'

Aunt Jean and I looked at each other in shock.

‘I'm training him,' Uncle Wayne said as if he'd known what we were thinking. ‘I told him I can't do all the bloody cooking and cleaning. He has to do his fair share.'

‘Did he put up a fight?' I asked.

‘You're joking.'

Aunt Jean laughed. ‘If only you knew the battles we've been through.'

‘Men find it easier to exploit women than other men,' Uncle Wayne said, smiling.

Aunt Jean and I smirked at each other. At this rate,
Wayne would be joining our sisterhood.

Toby brought a tray with four cups in. I bowed to him.

‘Why thank you, Toby,' Aunt Jean said, graciously.

‘That's all right,' he mumbled, not looking at me.

Aunt Jean and Uncle Wayne talked about the farm, the weather and politics. Toby occasionally would say something. I was happy to just sit and listen. Aunt Jean and Wayne agreed on most things. I had expected him to be a bit of a redneck, like most of the men I'd known in the country. I looked at him and thought maybe I could get used to him in time.

Uncle Wayne was staying in a hotel on the Parade.

‘Hope you're better tomorrow,' Uncle Waynesaid to me, as he got up to leave. ‘I hear you're a great surfer.'

I blushed. ‘I don't know about great.'

‘Your brother thinks so.'

‘Thanks.' The heat from blushing was making me spin.

Aunt Jean walked Wayne out to the front door.

‘Wonder what they're talking about?' I said to Toby.

He looked guilty and turned away from my gaze.

‘What Toby?'

‘I dunno.'

‘Toby, no secrets, remember?'

‘I don't know. They might be talking about me.'

‘What about you?'

‘I don't want to come back here to live.'

‘Toby.'

‘I don't.'

I knew he was unhappy, but I thought he'd just go back to the farm for the holidays and then come back and go to school.

‘What about me?'

‘You're all right. You've adapted. I hate it, you know that.'

‘There are things you like. What about skate-boarding?'

‘I'm building my own ramp, sorta.'

‘I need time to think about this Toby. I'm too wiped out now.'

‘I'm doing it Jules. There's nothing you can say that'll stop me.'

I didn't respond. Aunt Jean came back in the room.

‘Did Uncle Wayne say anything to you about Toby not coming back here?' I demanded.

‘Yes, he did.' Aunt Jean looked at Toby. ‘It's what you want, isn't it?'

Toby nodded.

‘We'll talk about it tomorrow. I'm off to bed. I think you ought to go back to bed now Julie,' Aunt Jean said diplomatically.

I didn't argue. I stood up. ‘Goodnight,' I said to
them both and went and brushed my teeth. The mirror reflected a pale girl. The eyes were too shiny. The lips cracked. ‘Who's that girl?' I asked the mirror and turned away.

BOOK: Still Waving
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