CHAPTER 11
Bruno
I slowly come to, my eyes rapidly adjusting to the surroundings. Trees. Gentle water lapping nearby. Grass. Clean air. I’m on my side, my head propped up on Bradford’s backpack and my hand across his chest. Glancing over him, I see Brendan snuggled into the crook of his arm. Bradford’s still sleeping sweetly, his eyes closed, a pile of clothes nestled under him as a makeshift pillow. The atmosphere is filled with an all-consuming sense of peace. We’re suspended here in a soft cloud and every part of me wishes we could stay this way forever.
“Hey.” Bradford’s voice is a husky whisper as his eyes open and he turns to look at me. “I was having a wonderful dream, then I woke up and it was all true.”
Reaching over to brush the hair from his forehead, I lean into him and kiss him gently on the lips. “It is. Every bit of it.” I’m dangerously close to blurting out too much. I need to get a hold of myself. Gazing back out at the sky, I see the sun setting through the thick canopy of trees lining the far side of the river. Brilliant shades of orange, yellow and pink pierce through the leaves and branches, casting their glow in our direction.
“You know, we’ll never have this moment again,” says Bradford.
I look at him as he lies there staring at the view, the dying rays of sun flickering across the shining surface of his eyes. He doesn’t seem wistful. He’s truly finding joy in such a small but magical point in time. My heart swells and an ache builds behind my eyes that I almost don’t manage to contain. Bradford’s world has shrunk down to tiny proportions, yet he’s still grabbing shreds of happiness wherever he can.
“Your life is gonna be full of these,” I whisper, placing my hand against his cheek. The softness of his beard caresses my palm and Bradford follows the featherlight pressure, turning his head till his eyes meet mine. “I’ll make sure of that, Blinky .”
As the sun begins to take its final bows, a chill works its way into our warm valley paradise. Before long, we’re up and dressed and packing our mess into the Esky. Every single sandwich is gone, every single strawberry was dipped in honey and savoured with a smile. I’ve never had such a perfect day.
After retracing our steps to the car, Bradford lets Brendan off his leash and we jog around the open parkland with him. Brendan runs back and forth, jumping with excitement at the prospect of two burly men joining him in this romp. I watch Bradford with a mixture of concern and curiosity as he runs along beside me. He seems to be doing fine, though. He’s taking it very carefully, glancing down at the ground at regular intervals, making sure there’s nothing to trip him up. And the look of freedom on his face tells me it’s all worth it.
Darkness has fallen by the time we’re driving our way up out of the valley. My high beams scan the road ahead of me, alerting me to every twist and turn. Soon, we’re onto a stretch of open bush road and I’m able to gather a bit of speed. The windows are open, there’s a fresh breeze circulating, and my spirits are soaring.
Just as I’m leaning into my buoyant mood, a dark object runs straight out in front of the Kingswood. There’s an almighty thud against the bumper and I jolt up in my seat. I’m so shocked that my body doesn’t react and the car keeps speeding along.
“Oh, God!” cries Bradford. “Please stop. Please .” There’s a gut wrenching panic in his tone which snaps my body into action. Squeezing on the brakes, I bring the car to a quick halt and pull off to the side of the road.
We’ve barely stopped when Bradford’s out the door. In the rear view mirror I see him running as fast as he can, stumbling, falling over and getting up again as he rushes towards whatever it was I hit. I jump out of the car and take off after him, feeling sick to my stomach. By the time I reach him, he’s crouched down in front of the object at the side of the road. Bradford has his phone out and the torch shining on it. There lies a great big wombat. It’s not all bloodied, but it’s definitely not moving.
“Oh…” Bradford’s voice breaks into sobs. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” he chants as he begins to cry openly. His shoulders shake and I’m standing there, useless. All I can think of to do is squat next to him and rub my hand over his back.
Bradford makes a visible effort to slow down the deluge pouring out of him. “It’s just…” he’s beginning to hyperventilate. “He had a life… and now it’s over.”
That line is a stab in the guts. It’s so much more than a wombat; I can see all too clearly that it’s a reflection on Bradford’s own situation. I have never needed to try and save someone so desperately. I don't care whether it’s right or wrong, I am driven by a force I can’t control.
Shuffling closer, I wrap one arm around him and pull his head against my chest. “Oh, God, Blinky . I can’t believe I was so fucking careless.” I want to throw up. Between the poor wombat and Bradford’s distress, I’m in grave danger of starting to bawl myself.
"No. It’s not your fault,” sniffs Bradford. He begins taking big breaths, struggling to get himself on an even keel again. Leaning forward once more, he gingerly reaches out to the lifeless wombat, stroking the tips of his fingers on the furry creature’s hindquarters. “No pouch,” he says, “So no young. And really big. He’s definitely a boy.”
“What should we do with him? It doesn’t feel right just leaving him here on the side of the road.”
“No, it’s fine,” says Bradford. “He has to stay here. They come past and make a record of any wildlife that’s been killed.”
We remain there on our haunches for a short while, letting it all sink in. I feel so bloody stupid. Normally, I can handle any situation like this. It’s my fucking job , for God’s sake. But seeing Bradford in such a state hits way too close to home. I’m at a loss as to what to do. Finally, I have a thought.
Running back to the car, I retrieve the bunch of wildflowers and return to where Bradford’s crouching, still stroking the poor wombat. “Here” I say gently. “I can’t think of a more fitting use for these.”
Bradford takes the bouquet, his tear-stained face looking up at me. “Thank you,” he whispers. With quiet reverence, he places the flowers against the wombat’s belly, then gives him a final pat. “Goodbye, little man. Somebody cared about you.” Rising up slowly, he shudders as he stifles another sob, then wipes his eyes, takes a deep breath and does his best to stand tall.
With my arm around his shoulders, I follow his lead as he turns and we walk back to the car. I’m still deeply rattled, but I’m relieved that Bradford seems to have found some kind of closure.
He holds my hand as we drive back into Sydney. We don’t really talk, but that seems to be the best course of action right now. I feel like I have so much to say. I just don’t know how to go about saying it.
An idea comes to me as we pass by Sydney airport. Taking the exit to Wentworth Avenue, I head towards the lower eastern suburbs. Bradford watches out the window, glancing at me every now and then, but he doesn’t ask questions.
I haven’t been to Little Bay in absolutely ages. It’s not far from where I grew up in Maroubra, only a ten minute drive south, but it’s tucked away, nestled in its cove above the Botany Bay National Park. As we round the road to our old high school, we’re confronted by large apartment blocks instead. The only thing telling me we’re in the right place is the name of the road; everything else is so different to the way it was decades ago. I keep an eagle eye out for a parking spot while I edge the Kingswood down the crowded street.
“Wow, this place is so different!” says Bradford as we pull up. Stepping out of the car, he stands there a moment, scanning the buildings in front of him. I can see the edges of his eyes bunching up as he squints, a sight I’m now completely familiar with, but one which never fails to tug at my heart.
With Brendan all harnessed up, we walk down a small service road that leads to the back of the buildings. Landscaped gardens have replaced the school sports fields, and we make our way through them, trying to locate the path down to the cove. By instinct, Bradford seems to have steered Brendan to the exact spot. What used to be a rocky trail through the bush is now a railed set of steps. It’s a shame all the rustic beauty I remember from my high school years has been replaced by this sterile development.
Down in the sandy cove, Bradford lets Brendan off his harness, keeping him on his leash. Brendan’s sombre nature changes instantly; all of a sudden he’s a normal dog. The moon is out in full force, lighting up the cove with a magical glow. It beams off the gentle waves, creating a silvery moving blanket that stretches across the bay.
“What was his name?” I ask Bradford, as we stare out to sea.
“Whose name?”
“Your friend. The one you used to come here with.”
“Oh.” Bradford nods slowly, a distant smile on his face. “Chris.”
There’s something about this place. The otherworldly moonlight filling every corner of the cove. The lazy breeze. The memories flooding back to me. Everything seems to be pushing me to make a statement, to open the door just a crack and let this amazing man get a glimpse of what’s going on in my heart.
“You never got to tell him what you needed him to know.” I’m on the edge of a precipice here, barely hanging on, but I feel an urge that I’m powerless to stop. “Sometimes we let opportunities pass us by and we live to regret it. I’m not going to do that, Bradford.”
Reaching out, I take his hand and turn to him. The light behind his head fans out. It’s mesmerising. Maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks on me, but right now there's a halo around Bradford. “We've been connected for thirty years, Blinky, and it all started right here.” The stark honesty of the moment makes me want to look away, but I keep my eyes focused on Bradford’s. “The past few months have been the happiest I’ve ever known in fifty years. I want to keep our connection. I don’t care how we define it, but I need to be in your life. Always.”
Bradford doesn’t say anything, he just averts his eyes and bows his head slightly. I immediately feel worried. I’ve gone too far. I’ve exposed myself, laid myself open, made myself vulnerable in a way that’s making me shake.
Bradford’s voice is so tiny I can hardly hear it over the noise of the ocean. But the words he says resonate in my head as loudly as if he’s shouting them to the world. “Please don’t ever go anywhere, Harry. ”