Chapter Thirteen
DAN
‘So you two met while working together?’ I ask Jean over a glass of Baileys on Sunday afternoon.
My second visit to her house, playing the role of writer for her life story.
I’ve been recording our conversations on my phone and writing down notes in a journal as we go along. We’re only getting started, though.
‘You could say that, yes,’ Jean says, peering over at the photo of her and Ron sitting on a shelf surrounded by books.
A black-and-white photo of them on a beach together, smiling, as if nothing could harm their happiness in that moment.
Jean shifts her focus back to me. ‘Since we both served in the Vietnam War, he as a soldier and me as a nurse, our first encounter was quite the detrimental one.’
‘How so?’ I ask her.
‘I saved his life. And he saved mine,’ she says, and it’s then I realise those two sentences are the setup for her story.
Jean tells me of the awful injuries Ron came into the medic tent with on that harrowing day in 1970. Brutal wounds from battle. She didn’t think he would make it at first.
She tells me, with eyes glazed over, of the look Ron gave h er when he woke up, wrapped in bandages, unable to move much at all. The way he held her hand, and the unspoken words that he couldn’t thank her enough.
‘I knew from those moments, by his side in that tent, there was something about him,’ Jean says.
‘But I was working with a lot of other patients to look after, so I didn’t have a chance to think about it too long.
But it was always in the back of my mind, and even when he returned to battle, I thought about him.
Yes, I thought about him often. I thought about what it must be like out there, how scared he might be. Whether he’d survive.’
Jean’s words make my eyes feel heavy, and I feel my tear ducts begin to fill, but not enough for a spill.
Her smile widens when she tells me of the relief, knowing Ron had made it out alive when the war was over.
And the first thing they both did was try to find each other, but that wasn’t easy.
Like magnets, Jean describes it as, but magnets so far apart – on the other side of the world kind of distance.
She resided in Australia and him in the United States, in a time without the internet.
Before she continues any further, Jean tells me she’s tired and asks if we can continue another day. I suppose it is late and we’ve been at it for two hours now.
I head home with one hundred dollars cash from the one person I never thought I’d receive money from – my pay from today’s session. Up I go: Kent Street, then across to Bowen Terrace, where Story Bridge twinkles dark blue at twilight and the city scraper windows start to illuminate.
When I get home, a grimace-inducing stench welcomes me as I pass the bathroom, along with Salem, of course , who’s on his back scratching at his cubby house I bought him as a birthday present last year.
The culprit of the stench is Salem’s litter tray – or rather, what’s inside it – and for a brief stinky moment, I’m reminded of the downsides of owning a cat.
After flushing the smell away, a surge of inspiration to tidy up – even though I cleaned the entire apartment yesterday – rushes through me. I wipe and put away the dishes and empty the full bag of rubbish to take down to the bins.
A crisp cold air hits me as I walk outside, into a night that, on first impression, feels a bit like Melbourne winters. Maybe because I’ve just come from a heated apartment.
Someone else is already emptying their rubbish in the bins, and while their back is turned, I quietly approach to see if I can identify them from behind. It kind of looks like…
‘Kallen?’ I ask for confirmation purposes.
After Kallen turns around, he flinches and falls backward into the bin. The dinging sound of flesh hitting metal, followed with a, ‘Holy shit!’ from him as he gathers himself from the side of the bin. ‘Again with the sneaking up on people. Gonna have to start calling you Dan the unfriendly ghost.’
He’s funny, so this naturally has a chuckle leaving my mouth. Kallen moves aside while I throw my bag in the bin.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,’ I say with my best confidence. ‘I’ll announce my presence with a megaphone next time.’
‘That would be great, thanks,’ he says with a smirk, a sass I want more of. Goddamn, why does someone who I want but can’t have live in the same building as me? At what point did the universe think this was a good idea?
‘How was your weekend?’ I ask him as we move aside from the bins.
‘It was great,’ he says zealously, leaning his hand on the pool fence. ‘Got to go on a boat. Be on island time. Can’t complain.’
‘Sounds terrible,’ is my rapid response. ‘The boat part, I mean. The island looks incredible. I’ve seen photos of it.’
‘It was pretty nice, aside from it being cloudy the whole time we were there. The fact we have something like that so close to the city; also not complaining.’
‘Maybe I’ll have to get over there sometime,’ I say, ‘And pray for a day of calm waters.’
‘The boat ride was pretty smooth going over,’ Kallen shrugs. ‘You could be fine.’
‘Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.’
‘Is it just boats you get seasick on, or planes too?’
‘Nope, just boats, thankfully. I’ve been fine on some where the water is calm but have had terrible experiences on others. So I just try and not do boats.’
‘Right.’
As we stare toward the partially visible river, an electric silence pushes between us, and of course, I have to make it an awkward one.
‘And…how was the date?’ I ask, in the way a friend would, though I’m unsure if Kallen and I have even forged a friendship.
‘It was good,’ Kallen nods .
I shouldn’t have asked, to save myself the disappointment. To save my gut from its ultimate plummet.
‘Nice,’ I say, swallowing a lump in my throat. ‘That’s so exciting. Think it warrants a second date?’
Kallen puckers his lips, manages a smile. ‘Yeah. I think so.’
‘Great! So good, congrats,’ I say, though inside, it’s anything but good or great. Wish I could turn my feelings off, to be honest.
He raises a skeptical eyebrow at me. ‘Uh. Thanks. It’s just a first date, though. Not sure if there’s anything to celebrate.’
‘True, but still.’
We walk inside together, into the elevator, Kallen on his phone and me looking at the silver metal. As I side glance at him, the warmness in my groin fires up again, coupled with a strange desire to cuddle on the couch with him.
I kind of wish he knew I found him attractive.
Then maybe he’d consider going on a first, second, and fifth date with me.
That way he’d find out I’m not the bumbling idiot he thinks I am.
That over time, when I become comfortable with someone, I’m more relaxed and fun, like he is.
I wish he knew that. So much so, the temptation to just let it out creeps up my throat, increasing further as we exit the elevator on the floor of our apartments.
‘Hey, Kallen,’ I say, right behind a heavy exhale.
He turns around, and my heart beats all drum-like as our eyes meet.
‘Yeah?’ he asks, eyes glued to mine.
My heart hammers in my chest. Not sure why, but I think back to Jean’s story, wondering if this is the same way she and Ron used to look at each other. Magnets. But then I’m reminded: Kallen is my coworker, and he’s dating someone. He doesn’t even like me either.
And so, I exhale again. ‘See you tomorrow.’
He gives me a weird look, then a smile as he says, ‘See you tomorrow,’ before turning back around and unlocking his front door.
I do the same, and once I’m back inside, safe from more embarrassment, I screw my face up and scream into the void, on mute, knowing full well these walls aren’t thick in the slightest.