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Authors: Kelli Bradicich

Watery Graves (6 page)

BOOK: Watery Graves
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“There’s lots of tumours and lumps. Some are pretty big,” Sebastian finished.

“There’s so many different types of cancer,” Libby said. “You know that’s the problem with computers these days, everyone self-diagnoses and worries about some horrible disease, when really they just have the flu or something.” 

“Yeah, it could be anything,” Sebastian said. “Glandular fever maybe. She gets tired a lot.”

“When do you find out?” Libby asked.

“This afternoon,” Emmy and Sebastian said in unison.

Sebastian looked at his watch. “Another hour I’d say.”

“Please tell us when you know. I don’t want to ask in case it’s bad.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Emmy said.

“Mum doesn’t
gossip,” Libby defended. “Matilda and Cassidy will though. We will have to keep it from them.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “It might be a good way of getting news out in town about what’s really going on. Unleash the story, I say. At least they might have some facts thrown in there for a change.”

“We know nothing yet,” Emmy reminded them.

“I’m hoping for
Glandular Fever now,” Sebastian said, hooking his hands behind his head and laying back.

“Can’t you die from that too?” Emmy asked.

“Not these days. We’ve moved on a bit from the
Little Women
era,” Libby snorted, tapping Emmy’s book. “People don’t get it anymore. If they do, I don’t hear about it.”

Emmy felt like throwing it at her. A weird thing to think, but the thought just popped into her head.
“Beth had Scarlet Fever Libby,” she said, quietly.

“I don’t think you should worry,” Libby continued. “Cancer isn’t a death sentence like it used to be. Tumours and lumps don’t sound good but they can be benign. And if they’re not, there are things they can do.”

Emmy could tell the way Sebastian held onto every word Libby said that he wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe her too. It was good for both of them to hear words like that from someone on the outside. Libby knew more about the world than both of them put together. She could be right. 

“Wouldn’t it be fun to make up some new really contagious disease, and spread that around town,” Sebastian said, laughing.

Libby joined in. “Yeah. Something really horrible, like that in your dying days you break out in pus-filled lesions and vomit green stringy mucous.”

“And purple and black dia
rrhoea.”

Emmy couldn’t hold back
. “How do you guys know that’s not going to happen to Maya anyway?” She stood up and left them to it.

But they were silent.

Below, the river crawled, keeping its silence. Emmy walked over to the ledge. She picked up a rock and hurled it as hard as she could. It bounced off a rocky outcrop and dropped in with a plop.

Chapter Nine

 

Emmy and Sebastian were making frittata for dinner when the van pulled up outside. They dropped the knives and skillet on the bench and headed for the door. Kristian was helping Maya from the van. Loaded with canvas shopping bags, Ingrid led the way to the two- bedroom cabin that Kristian, Maya and Sebastian shared.

Emmy exchanged a look with Sebastian. They followed.

In the room, Kristian drew back the curtains and opened the concertina windows overlooking Mercy River. Fresh air and light flooded the room. Sprigs of lavender in a vase released a slow perfume.

Ingrid and Emmy waited in silence for the jug to boil. Ingrid immersed a concoction of herbs in hot water. Emmy picked up the packet and read the label, “Chinese Medicine Centre – Mercy Falls”.

Maya climbed into bed fully clothed. “I’m okay. Stop fussing,” she snapped at Kristian who was plumping up a couple of extra pillows. “I just need a rest. I’m sorry I said anything.”

“Take this tea first. You’ll feel better when you wake,” Ingrid ordered.

Maya took a sip and scrunched her nose
. “Mm, disgusting.”

“What’d the doctor say?” Sebastian asked, sitting on the bed beside his mother.

“Doctors can be wrong,” Kristian snapped.

Maya waved Kristian off and patted the bed
, inviting Emmy to join her too. Her smile was sweet but her face looked rigid. She shrugged. “I’m sick, kids. I don’t want to hide anything from you. If you want to ask any questions, go ahead and -”

“What is it, Mum?” Sebastian asked.

Emmy could see the hint of panic in his eyes, hidden deep behind his deadpan face.

“They knew in the beginning. We all did. It’s cancer.”

“The good cancer where they do an operation and cut it out, or the bad?” Emmy asked.

“It doesn’t have to mean a death sentence,” Ingrid said, offering Maya more of the herbal brew.

Maya pushed it away. “It started out as ovarian, but now it’s reached my stomach, my liver and lungs. It’s everywhere. I could have more tests, but…” her gaze fell onto the view from the window, dry grass and a flat lifeless river.

“You live well. You eat well. No smoking. No stress. Doctors get things wrong,” Kristian said, sitting on the end of their bed crossing his legs Indian style. “This is clean living up here.”

“How will they fix you?” Sebastian asked, watching Ingrid stack away bundles of herb packets. “The doctors, I mean.”

“They’re not offering me treatment.”

“Well, it can’t be that bad then,” Emmy said.

Maya smiled, and looked to Kristian for support.

Kristian rubbed his face and looked up at them. “They say it’s so far gone. They can’t fix it. But we have to stay upbeat about this. Look at some alternatives.”

“No Kristian,” Maya said. “I would be happier living life in the way I love to live it.”

Kristian unfurled his legs, and stretched. “You’ve known about this longer than us. You’ve had longer to process it.”

“I’ve been tired, and not feeling that great maybe. But I’ve known no longer than you have about the cancer.”

“I want to believe you Maya. But I don’t know if I do.”

“That is up to you. I know I don’t want to die.”

Emmy felt a heaviness in her chest. It was like tension appeared in a cloud above them and she sucked it down into her lungs, so that no one else had to breathe it in. “It’ll be okay,” she muttered. “We just have to stick together.”

She wanted to calm them all. She wanted Kristian to understand Maya. She wanted Maya to say she’d fight. But what happened with the murmuring of those little words was very different.

“I’m asking for support. I want to live well until it’s my time to go,” Maya said.

The worry spread. Tears spilled onto Ingrid’s cheeks. Sebastian shook his head and dropped his face into his hand. Maya reached for Kristian. And Kristian slid off the bed and walked out the door.

*

Maya went to bed early. Dinner was not like it should be. A warm spinach frittata sat in the middle of the table, wedges cut from it, and the salad bowl was half empty. Something was missing, and it wasn’t just the salad dressing.

Every time Emmy saw a look pass between her mother and Kristian, she cast her eyes to her plate. It took enormous effort to narrow her thoughts to the number of chews each tiny bite took, stretching out the count as long as she could before swallowing.

Sebastian sat wide eyed across from her.
She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations in her mouth, her grinding teeth, slug-like tongue and wash of saliva.

The wood chair beside Kristian was chipped and aged. The vast emptiness dulled all conversation. Emmy stared straight at it. Her tongue bucked with each swallow and her food pulsed down her throat. 

She was mindful of the only thing in her control. The way she ate. It was a way of forgetting.

*

Later that night, Emmy turned to the old dictionary. She discovered that cancer was just as they described, cells that grow and multiply rapidly through the body.  She bit her lip and snapped the book closed, hurling it across the table.

Maths seemed the thing to take her mind off everything. She worked on some probability questions. Each time she completed a problem she checked the answer at the back of the textbook. Sometimes her answers were right and sometimes they were wrong. Yet she seemed to be using the same process over and over again. So when they were wrong she had no idea why.

If cancer was a group of cells gone a bit manic through the body, surely there was something that can be done to stop it and get them out.

 

Chapter Ten

 

It took Emmy longer than usual to trudge up the hill. She ducked under the wire fence and followed the track through an empty paddock to the gate. In the Bexleys’ garden she stopped to smell the rose blooms before she took the stairs one at a time and knocked on the front door.

The windows and door were wide open but the Bexleys weren’t home.

She sat on the doorstep, enjoying the quiet on the porch. There among the blooms in the garden and behind the line of conifers, the air felt lighter. It was as if the bees knew it too, the way they bobbed from flower to flower.

It was better to be on that porch than at home. Back there with her family there was nothing she could do or say to make things return to the way they were. It was hard looking at the dark circles under their eyes. Their faces were dead, as they plodded around completing everyday tasks on autopilot.

Everything changed though, when they were with Maya. It was strange the way everyone suddenly found all this brightness from somewhere. It lit up the room. They chatted about anything other than sickness, death and how unfair it all was. The falseness of it drove Emmy crazy. Yet there was no way she was going to be the one to bring up the truth.

The doorstep of the Bexleys
’ house was safe. 

Alone.

She rested her head against the timber post and closed her eyes. The edge of the wood dug into her skull, but she felt nothing.

*

The Bexleys’ 4WD purred up the track. The girls rolled out of the car, squealing and laughing, but stopped when they saw Emmy. She rose slowly. Her eyes found Libby’s familiar face, the olive skin, arched eyebrows and unruly dark hair.

Libby cocked her head to the side in an unspoken question.

Emmy’s mouth was dry. Her lips stuck together as she tried to find the words, “Maya’s sick. She has some cancer. She’s at home sleeping. They know I’m here. I’m allowed to tell you all.”

Libby’s lips twisted as she mouthed the word. Her face went slack.

Mrs Bexley stepped forward, “Oh, honey. There’s a lot they can do these days with cancer.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. But Maya’s decided not to do any of that,” Emmy replied.

Libby took Emmy’s hand, leading her through the door. “Do you want to play cards?”

“Let’s have a round,” Matilda said, pushing past them.

“I’m dealing!” Cassidy yelled.

“I’ll make some
Milos,” Mrs Bexley murmured.

Emmy’s mind shifted to the card game. But Mrs Bexley came back to the doorway waving a teaspoon. “You girls better keep quiet on that
Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or whatever it is you are into these days. News like this tends to take a life of its own and makes things far worse than they need to be.”

“I don’t think it will matter much Mrs Bexley,” said Emmy.

“Okay,” Mrs Bexley nodded, “You’re probably right. Okay.” She mumbled to herself as she stepped back into the kitchen. She lifted her voice to a new level of cheer, “A round of Vegemite sandwiches, Emmy?”

“Mum
,” Libby moaned.

“Right. Right. Milos are enough.”

 

 

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

F
lowing

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

Chapter Eleven

 

At the weekend markets, the first person Emmy served that day didn’t speak and was dressed in black. They were about the same age, but from the beginning, Emmy felt they could share nothing else.

It was a brief exchange. The girl picked up a quiche. Emmy opened her palm. The girl placed a twenty in it and walked away before Emmy could find the cash tin to give her change. While it happened, it was
as though the world went quiet just for that instant. But then the claps, bangs and screeches of market day in Mercy Falls square took over again.

Just after sunrise, the markets began when the first w
hiff of freshly baked bread wafted through the streets. Emmy was one of the first to arrive with Sebastian and Kristian. As soon as they propped up the fold-out trestle table, Emmy hid behind it. That was her safe zone.

Emmy helped set up. But it wasn’t long before she realized that everything she unpacked and positioned was quickly shuffled to another more appropriate location. She didn’t know what she was doing or where to put anything. Her mind was distracted by the sea of movement beyond the counter. The crowds were gathering, filled with people she didn’t know. But many of them gave her more than a passing glance as though they knew her. She didn’t want to be there, but with Maya sick she would have to get used to it.

The clap of boxes and grunts of men setting up stalls in a sweat gradually transformed into banter, the clinking of money and produce changing hands. Coat hangers clacked, as women stormed the clothes racks for the first pick of an original outfit no other in town would own. The ticking clocks at the clockmakers and the grinding and pounding at the shoe repairs, side by side, set a rhythm. Music played and art was on display. People from all around hovered over the great range of cheeses and deli mixes, and filled their bags with local organic produce. There was so much to take in, and so many people staring at her as though she was some kind of freaky attraction that it made it hard for her to think.

She doubted she would ever grow accustomed to it. After the peacefulness of the mountain, the waves of noise, colour and smells were overwhelming.  She soaked up the town’s bustle, and felt it scour and scrape through her body, draining her energy. The expressions on strangers
’ faces and the fear of not knowing the right thing to say rattled her. Too much was happening all at once.

Kristian hauled more boxes of fresh produce out of the van and Sebastian set up the display. In the back corner, Emmy counted the cash tin, sorting the money as though she were the banker in a monopoly game. She carefully recorded the amounts in the notebook.

The younger women in town were gathering at the stall. Kristian smiled and joked his way through their requests. Emmy noticed that each one of them walked away feeling as though they were something special. All it took was a nod, smile, a brief
how are you today
, asking them about something in their lives and dropping in an extra tomato, apple or goat milk soap. An outsider could say he was a great salesman, but Emmy knew it was just the way he was. She felt special to Kristian and he hadn’t sold her a thing. Females were their greatest customers.

“Em, can you do me a favour and get the shopping?” Kristian asked digging Ingrid’s shopping list out of his back pocket and handing it to her.

Emmy looked down at the list, then up at him, tilting her head.

“Off you go,” Kristian encouraged, “just like we did a few weeks ago. You know you can do it on your own.”

“But the cheese? How do I-”

“Ask Mrs Archer to weigh it for you. The nuts – just fill a bag- ”

Emmy nodded. “And weigh it?”

“The shopkeepers do all that. Not you,” Sebastian added.

Emmy took a hundred dollar note. With one last look at Sebastian and Kristian arranging the fruit, she braved the growing crowd, holding an empty box to her chest.

“Don’t leave this square, Em,” Kristian called after her.

She waved her hand at him. That was so unlikely she didn’t know what to say.

“Do you want me to help you?” Sebastian called.

Emmy paused, considering the offer, but shook her head. She had to learn sometime. Besides if she went off with Sebastian he would surely lead her down some alley way into some strange part of town to show her something he found amazing. He was so unpredictable lately. His idea of excitement was her idea of torture.

The health food stall wasn’t too far away. Being out in the open was disconcerting. She suspected her pounding heart could be heard above everything. The stares became more intensely curious. Her queasy stomach made her limbs weak. She had a strategy, to think only about the task at hand, one thing at a time. At the open sacks she checked over her list before scooping lentils and beans into bags.

Fingers tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to her right to find nobody, then swung around to the left, catching sight of her best friend. “Libby.”

“Hey
,” Libby smirked. “Strange to see you here. What ya doing?”

“Shopping.”

“I saw Kristian and Sebastian over there. Thought you’d stayed home again.”

Emmy saw Libby’s school friends eating pretzels, hanging back a few paces outside the bakery. She knew their faces, and had heard Libby speak about them, but didn’t know who was who. They’d been Libby’s friends for as long as she could remember. They took it in turns sneaking glances at her. Emmy had always liked hearing about Libby’s town life. In her mind there were always two Libb
ies. The Libby she loved was a mountain girl just like her. It was weird seeing her out in town.

Emmy fought to keep her gaze on Libby.

Libby grabbed Emmy’s shopping list and looked it over. “If I help you do the shopping will you ask Kristian again if you can hang with us for a while?”

Emmy shook her head
. “He won’t let me.”

“He’s got to get sick of you asking someday. Go and ask. Even if it’s a ‘no’ it’s one step closer to a ‘yes’.”

Emmy stared down at her list, fishing for the right thing to say.

“Go on,” Libby persisted. “Go see what he says.”

Emmy turned and walked back to the stall. She realised Libby was following when she paused to gather her head and her friend crashed into her.

“Libby
,” she moaned.

“I can help persuade him. Maybe he won’t be able to say ‘no’ if I’m standing right there.”

Emmy licked her lips. Her mouth was dry.

“I’ll ask him,” Libby offered. “You stay here.”

Emmy pulled her back. “No,” she said a little too loudly. “He’ll feel ganged up on. Go back to the health food stall. I’ll meet you back there.”

She watched her friend retreat.

Emmy wove through some people, and slid behind the stall.

“Hey Kristian.”

“What happened kid? You’ve bought nothing back.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Sebastian offered.

“It’s okay.
I just wanted to know if the lentils you wanted were for dahl?”

Kristian grinned. “I think so.”

“So you wanted red lentils?”

“No
.” He shook his head. “Moong.”

And there it was. If anyone was watching, Kristian had shaken his head. She had her ‘no’. Emmy turned to leave again.

Kristian called her back. “Maybe get both.”

She nodded, ducking and weaving and apologising her way back through the crowd.

When she reached Libby, Emmy swallowed, trying to hide her discomfort with a smile. She was about to tell someone she loved a big lie. “Kristian’s got wine deliveries at all the pubs today. He said it’s not fair to leave Sebastian on his own.”

“At least there was a reason.” Libby gave Emmy a hug. “My friends always ask what you’re like. They’d love to get to know you. One day, huh? Maybe we need to plan it.” She rubbed Emmy’s arm and walked over to the group. A waitress was serving up milkshakes and desserts. Several girls and other patrons turned to look Emmy up and down.

Emmy’s sweaty fist clutched the shopping list. She forced herself to pull her gaze away from Libby and back to the legumes.

*

Kristian propped the newspaper on top of a box of apples. As he rifled through the cash tin, Emmy and Sebastian’s gaze dropped to the main headline.
Father Shot Dead in Park

A 27 year old man was shot dead in a busy parkland in Acacia Falls yesterday while pushing his six year old daughter on a swing. The man’s wife, 26, looked on in horror, as she nursed their newborn...

“Oh my God
,” Emmy said.

Kristian swiped the newspaper away, and tucked it under his arm. He ruffled Sebastian’s hair and winked at Emmy. “You’ve both survived this long without news. Bad for your brains.”

Sebastian threw her a filthy look.

She shrugged, mouthing, “What?” Emmy was actually grateful for the lady holding out three punnets of strawberries for her to put in a paper bag. 

“Okay guys, I’m off,” Kristian said, pulling the van keys out of his jeans pocket.

“We’ll be right,” Sebastian replied, counting out change for another woman who’d scooped up two tubs of yoghurt, a box of mixed fruit, and was eyeing off the fresh pikelets with jam and cream.

“There’s enough change in the tin. The wine deliveries will take me about two hours, I think. I’m stopping off at a new pub outside town to see if they’re interested in making an order.”

“We’ll be fine, Kristian,” Sebastian said.

A customer handed her some cucumbers and tomatoes. She’d recognised her, figuring she must’ve seen her before. It was the way her lips were so stiff and pursed that her face didn’t move. Emmy smiled and weighed the produce, while Sebastian made the calculation.

“Hey Mrs Archer
!” Kristian yelled across the market quadrangle. “If the kids need someone –” Kristian walked off, looking back in their direction as he left the market square.

Mrs Archer waved, and giggled behind her hand, calling, “I’ll be there for them.”

“When will he get used to leaving us here,” Sebastian whined, circling the calculated price for Emmy.

“That’s three seventy,” she said to the lady.

Flashing manicured nails, the lady handed over a ten dollar note.

Emmy fished out the change, “That’s six dollars and thirty cents change.”

The lady looked down at the note and coins in her palm before looking at Emmy, incredulous. “I gave you a twenty dollar note, love.”

“No
.” Emmy smiled. “It was a ten. See?” She lifted the note up to show her.

“How dare you
,” the lady gasped. Other market shoppers turned to stare. “Anyone can lift a ten dollar note out of their cash tin and wave it in a person’s face.”

Sebastian cleared his throat
. “Excuse me, Miss.”

“It’s
Mrs Paltry, not Miss. Don’t make assumptions, young man.”

“Please don’t yell, Mrs Paltry,” Emmy begged, her face burning.

“You cheeky girl.”

“She’s speaking to you respectfully and she’d like to be spoken to in the same way,” Sebastian defended.

Mrs Paltry drew in a deep breath, and yelled louder. “Respectfully? Who taught you about respect up on that mountain? You do not steal from a person and then demand that they treat you with respect.”

Emmy swallowed. The crowd around her disappeared in a fog and the market noise engulfed her. “I don’t steal,” she squeaked.

Sebastian edged his way in front of Emmy, and she took a step back. “Mrs Paltry, please don’t yell.”

Mrs Archer appeared behind Mrs Paltry and guided her away from their stall with a wink back at Sebastian and Emmy. “I saw you hand the young girl there a tenner, Mrs Paltry. I saw you and my assistant saw you.”

They watched her lead her over to the stand and offer her a block of cheese. She took it.

“Really? Mrs Archer was watching us that closely that she saw the note Mrs Paltry gave me?” Emmy whispered.

“Probably was. She along with every other woman here would do anything for Kristian,” Sebastian said.

“Do you think she could make Mrs Paltry apologise?”

“That’d mean Mrs Paltry would have to admit she was wrong.”

“Well, she should, at least for the yelling.”

With Mrs Paltry gone, the customers who had scattered began to mill around again.

“No wine today, kids?” a younger lady pushing a stroller asked

“Not til Dad’s back, I’m afraid.” Sebastian beamed.

Emmy’s legs were shaky.  She dropped into the deck chair in the back corner of their stall. “That Mrs Paltry thinks I’m a thief.”

“You’re not. Let her think what she likes. You know the truth.”

“I don’t want to do this without Mum and Maya anymore.”

“That’s too bad. We have to get used to dealing with people by ourselves.”

“Why should we?”

“Because our mothers won’t be down here for a while, that’s why.”

BOOK: Watery Graves
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