by Andrew Daddo
Hendrix tried to impersonate his father, but it was hard with the tears running and the hurt caught in his throat. ‘“They won’t even know who you are or where you came from. The freak from the street!” What if I want them to know I’m coming? What if I want them to know me?’
Paul couldn’t have been more surprised. ‘Is that what all this is about? Recognition?’ He started laughing, not out of malice, but relief. It was so silly, he was sure they’d easily hurdle a moment like this. ‘They’ll know you when it’s over, Hendrix. That’s the point. They can beat you if they can prepare for you. But if you’re a surprise, they’re fucked. I thought you knew that? That’s how it’s always been, how could you not know? And Emily’s great, she really is. But she’s going to be here when the season’s over, and then, wow, mate. You get everything.’
It was Hendrix’s turn to laugh. Just the sound of it made his father feel even better. He was upright and open now, confident. ‘You still don’t get it, Dad.’
‘Get what?’
Hendrix looked to the sky. ‘This is your whole problem. You never ask, you never listen. Emily might not be here in two weeks.’
‘Of course she will.’
‘How do you know? Are you God? Do you decide, Dr Dad? You thought she was a junkie. But you know she’s got this growth, right. It’s near her head and wrapped around her spine and could haemorrhage. Or some part of it could break off and clot and that’d be the end of her. At any time. Now even, while I’m here with you. There is no time apart from now, because there might not be tomorrow. She taught me that. So fuck the race.’
His dad took a step back, then another, giving him a chance to look at Hendrix, possibly for the first time. ‘Why didn’t you say something before?’
‘Why didn’t you ask?’
‘I did. I must’ve. Didn’t I?’
Hendrix took another step back. ‘Not once. Not one single question about her. All you were worried about was the time she was stealing from training. That’s it. You never once asked what she’s like. Never about her, or her family, what she does, just that she’s in the way of our plan. You never even asked her mother about her, did you? All you worried about was you. Plans change, Dad. Emily is the plan now.’
Hendrix turned, and started back towards the motel and Anna’s car.
‘Hendrix, wait.’ But Hendrix kept walking. ‘Son. I’m sorry,’ Paul almost pleaded. ‘Stop. Hendrix, will you stop? I’m such an arse. I already lost your mum, now I can’t lose you, too.’ He was struggling for breath.
‘Yeah, you definitely lost Mum. I bet you’re wrapped you got her to do all that extra training, that helped heaps, didn’t it.’ He turned as he said it, glaring at his father.
‘Hendrix,’ Paul finally uttered. He was clenching his jaw repeatedly, trying to keep the well from bursting. ‘You know I’ve always blamed myself for that. I’m so sorry, Drix.’
For the first time in his life, Hendrix watched his father crumple. It was awful, like watching a tower fall.
‘I’m so very sorry,’ his father bawled.
Almost as a reflex, Hendrix put his arms around him, trying to hold him together. He was so big, so thick through the shoulders and the chest. Hendrix had no idea. The closest they’d been to hugging for years was a slap on the back or a strung-out high-five.
‘Dad. Don’t, Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t your fault, Dad,’ Hendrix whispered into him. ‘It was an accident. I shouldn’t have said that, it was cruel. I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t mean that.’
The two of them held each other up in every sense, fighting to be sorrier.
‘It was a drunk driver, Dad. That wasn’t your fault.’
‘I told her to run that night,’ he cried. ‘I sent her out to bloody run!’
He finally gave life to the words he’d buried for over a decade.
‘She could have done it on the running machine, but I sent her outside to run.’
They stood as one for the longest time. There was nothing left to say they couldn’t already feel. No words to challenge what was flowing through them.
In the end, it was the message alert from Hendrix’s phone that brought them back. It was Emily, asking if he had his phone back. It was crazy, he felt like he’d got much more than that.
‘Still not running,’ said Hendrix, untangling himself. ‘Still don’t want you to,’ said his father. ‘Unless you want to.’
That was it. Paul got his angles back in order, shoulders level. ‘One last thing, Drix. I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but I want the best for you. From the moment you arrived, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all Mum and I talked about.’
‘Dad,’ started Hendrix. ‘I know, Dad. You don’t have to …’
His father took a deep breath and a step back. ‘Yeah, well. Maybe the best thing for you might be here. For now, anyway. Not forever. But, for a little while, you know?’
‘Thanks,’ said Hendrix, hoping the smile he offered was happier than it felt. ‘Forever’s a mighty long time.’
‘Oh, my God,’ brightened Paul.
Hendrix took his own step back. ‘What?’
‘You do listen to my music. That was perfect Prince, accent and all.’
‘Prince is everyone’s music, Dad. Let’s go crazy, right? We good?’
Paul came in for a final hug. ‘Yep. Better than ever, maybe.’
Hendrix sent a quick text to Em saying he was back on air and they walked back to the parking lot. Anna was lying on the bonnet of her car looking into the sky.
‘Never gets boring,’ she said, not looking at them. ‘There’s always something going on up there. You two okay?’
‘Yep,’ they said together.
‘If it’s okay, I’m coming with you,’ said Hendrix to Anna. ‘But we’re all good.’
‘Yes, Drix. We are that. Thanks, Anna. I’m sorry I haven’t been a bit more attentive.’
‘You’re okay, Paul. There’s been a lot on, for all of us.’ Hendrix went to his father and put his hand out. Paul grabbed it, pulling him into another hug and whispering very quietly into Hendrix’s ear, ‘I love you. Don’t say it enough, but I do.’ He pushed Hendrix away gently and pretended to shadow box him. ‘I’ll see you when you’re ready. And I’ll talk to school, let them know what’s going on. Anna, I don’t know how to thank you.’
She smiled as she got into the car and nodded to him. ‘You would do the same, I’m sure of it.’
Paul shook his head and mouthed the words thank you. As they moved away, Hendrix gave him the thumbs up and got one back.
‘Went well, I see,’ said Anna. She looked in the rear-vision mirror to see Paul standing there, a silhouette against the motel wall. He waved, then more frantically, before running after the car.
‘Wait!’ he yelled.
Anna stopped, rolling down the window.
‘I’ve got something for you,’ Paul said. ‘Wait.’ He ran back to his room and came out with a couple of bags. ‘Nearly forgot. Some clothes. Toothbrush, deodorant, shoes. It’s all there, ’til you need more. Then maybe you can come and get ’em.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
Paul opened the back door and lobbed the bag onto the seat. ‘There’s other stuff in there, too. Might not need it, but you might. Never know your luck in a big city, eh? Things change.’
‘Won’t be doing that, Dad.’
Paul smirked. ‘But you’re registered and the heat’s at eleven. Friday, remember. You’ve done the work, so, you know …’
He was all eyebrows up and hopeful, hanging it out there for Hendrix and trying to sound like he wasn’t being pushy.
‘See you, Dad. I’ll ring you. Promise.’
‘You look better.’
Emily was up and out of the bathroom, squinting against the morning light. It’d been a good night’s sleep; she’d been dead to the world long before Hendrix and Anna had got home from the motel.
The compliment wasn’t wasted on He
ndrix. He felt as if he’d been through a twelve-round dust-up.
‘Yep. I think I feel better,’ he said.
They sat together at the kitchen bench, Emily watched him closely as he told her how talking to his father seemed to be putting some things in perspective.
‘It’s pretty intense, you know? And weird. And hopefully better.’
‘I just meant your clothes,’ Emily laughed. ‘As good as you look in my dad’s gear, you look better in your own.’
‘Oh, that,’ went Hendrix, looking down at his t-shirt. ‘I thought you meant this.’ He made a frame for his face with his hands.
‘Yeah, I meant that, too.’ She gave him an elbow to the ribs then pretended to duck the one that he’d be sending back. ‘Coming to the hospital today? There’s a shit magazine full of gossip from 1994 with your name on it.’
‘I’ll be there,’ he said. ‘Dibs on the Women’s Weekly, the recipes are killer.’
The routine was pretty solid. After breakfast, Emily would go to the toilet and do her best to hold onto whatever she’d eaten. The vomiting was normal, so was the general nausea and tiredness. Hendrix always tried to jolly her through it from the other side of the door. He managed most of the time, and when that failed there were head rubs and whatever else he could muster. If she was losing any hair, it wasn’t obvious to Hendrix. Siss made a couple of jokes but was quickly shut down by everyone but Emily. She knew, she saw what the brush stole from her head.
Tess and Rainey dropped by; Toby, too. Hendrix generally stuck about, but there were times he felt like a third wheel. He wasn’t made to feel unwelcome. It was just that when they really got laughing about stuff, it was from a past he couldn’t imagine.
They all went for a walk one time and Tess pulled out a pack of smokes and offered one to Emily. She hesitated, so Hendrix declined on her behalf. It was weird to him that she’d even consider smoking, especially given what she was going through.
‘Oh, come on,’ went Tess with a mocking tone. ‘It’s not like one smoke’s going to kill ya. Live a little while you can.’
Emily rolled her eyes and waved the ciggie off.
‘Just shittin’ you,’ said Tess, as she lit up.
Rainey put a spark in one as well and made a big song and dance about how good it was.
‘Give us a drag,’ said Emily. ‘Just so I can remember how much I hate it.’
Emily took a tentative suck on the butt and blew the smoke out of her nose. Hendrix watched on, quietly seething.
‘Emily,’ he said, wincing.
‘Want a drag, too?’ said Tess, offering hers to Hendrix. ‘No. Wouldn’t ever. But thanks.’
She either missed the sarcasm or didn’t give a shit. ‘Draw it back, you wanker,’ laughed Rainey.
Emily rolled her eyes like she was miles above it. ‘Dare me?’
‘Dare ya!’ And the three of them pissed themselves. ‘It’s just like the first time we nicked bungers off your Mum, remember?’
Tess was like, ‘Yeah, but I don’t reckon I’ll get grounded this time. Now come on, I dared you.’
Emily rolled her eyes again before having a decent crack at the ciggie. She coughed as soon as the smoke got near the back of her throat.
‘Smooooth,’ she eventually managed.
Hendrix stepped forward and took the cigarette out of her fingers, threw it to the ground and stomped on it. ‘Enough with that shit.’
‘It was just a drag,’ said Emily. ‘There’s stacks of other shit that’s going to kill me before that will.’
‘A race to the death, eh?’ said Hendrix. ‘Come on, Lucky.’ He let a little whistle go as the dog pulled its head out of a smell and looked up. ‘Let’s go.’
Hendrix turned and headed back toward the house. ‘As for you two …’ was all he said.
‘Whoopsie,’ Tess said to Emily.
Emily watched him leave. His shoulders were sloped forward, his head down.
‘You going to go after him?’ said Rainey.
‘What do you reckon?’ said Emily through a smirk. ‘You are not,’ went Tess.
‘You definitely are,’ laughed Rainey, pulling hard on her ciggie.
‘I am so going after him,’ said Emily with a laugh. ‘He’s hot when he’s angry, isn’t he?’
By the time she caught up to him, Emily was puffing hard. If it hadn’t been for Lucky stopping when Emily called her, Hendrix may not have stopped at all.
‘What are you doing?’ he said. ‘Don’t you want to get better?’
‘Of course I do. It was just a drag. For, you know, fun. Nothing’s fun anymore.’
Hendrix stared at her. ‘Seriously? How’s smoking fun?’
‘It’s naughty, I s’pose. Naughty’s kind of fun.’
Hendrix saw the glint in her eye. There hadn’t been much that was naughty or fun since he’d got to Benalla. It was like they’d swapped lives. Emily was the one doing the work and recovery while he watched on from the sidelines. He wished he could do more, and even that they could do more together. He knew it was selfish, but he had an inkling of what it must have been like to be with him when all he did was train.
‘Smoking’s disgusting, though. Why don’t we do something naughty that’s not going to kill you?’ he ventured.
‘Yeah,’ she laughed, leaning on him.
A light came on for both of them, the wick was lit. ‘Can’t kiss you,’ he said. ‘Like licking an ashtray.’
But she grabbed his arm and hung on to him as they headed toward the house. When he stopped, she kissed him all over the face until she got to his mouth and let him have it.
It was like a fog burning off, and it seemed to clear things for both of them. Hendrix and Emily had been so focused on getting through the daily grind of the treatment, there didn’t seem to be room for anything else. Neither had noticed the struggle for life was actually killing them, so the distraction wasn’t just welcome, it was a revelation.
‘There’s something else I want you to do,’ said Emily from bed.
Hendrix was pulling his jeans on, listening more for someone coming through the door than to what Emily was saying.
‘Can you take Lucky for a run?’
‘Why? We just took her for a walk.’
‘Yeah, but. She’d love a run. Besides, I like seeing you run, it reminds me of how we met.’ She had her hands behind her head, watching him closely.
Hendrix said he couldn’t see how she’d be able to watch for long because he’d be out of sight within no time. ‘Unless I run around a paddock or something, but that’d be weird.’
She laughed. ‘You’ll twist your ankle in a hole doing that. How about you run around something flat, like the footy oval?’
‘Very sneaky, Emily. But no, not interested.’ He knew what she was getting at, but baulked.
‘Come on,’ she pleaded. ‘Lucky would love it. I’d love it. You might even like it.’
Hendrix had his t-shirt on. ‘Nup.’
‘Fine,’ Emily snorted. ‘Don’t, then.’ She punched her pillow and rolled onto her side. ‘Better get out of here, Mum’ll be home with Siss in a sec.’
Hendrix hoofed it back to the sleep-out. Instead of pulling on his boots, he grabbed the runners and sat on his bed to lace them. ‘Changed my mind,’ he sang out. ‘But only because you’re sick and I’m a good bloke. Get your skates on.’ It was only a few moments, but by the time he stuck his head into Emily’s room, she was out cold. ‘Maybe you’ll forget by tomorrow,’ he whispered.
When Emily woke up later, she hung tight to the idea of seeing Hendrix run again.
‘I’ve tried to figure new ways of filling up my day, and I reckon this’ll work a treat,’ she said. ‘Come on, be a good sport. Be some kind of sport!’
Hendrix held her off the way boys do when they kind of want to dance but don’t want to be the first to the dance floor. He ummed and ahhhed and maybe’d all the way to lunch, then chuckled as he laced up his runners, unable to shake the thought his father
’s hand was stirring the pot. It was too far for Emily to walk to Benalla’s main oval, so they waited until school finished and the kids cleared the oval at the primary school up the road.
It wasn’t quite what Emily had in mind; she was thinking about sitting in the stands, watching on, possibly cheering. Instead, she was leaning against her old tuck-shop wall, remembering snippets of a life she’d left a long time ago.
Lucky had her nose in a left-behind lunch box while Hendrix stretched.
‘I want fast,’ went Emily. ‘Show us what you’ve got.’
‘Not much, I’d reckon,’ he said, slowly climbing out of a hamstring stretch. It’d been over a week since he’d done any training or stretching at all, and he couldn’t remember being tighter. Given he had no intention of smashing himself, he wasn’t very thorough, simply stretching enough not to pull something.
‘Lucky,’ he barked. ‘Get out of it.’ He grabbed the lead and wrenched the dog, but not before she managed to let a squirt go on an abandoned school jumper. ‘Let’s go, dawg.’
He ambled onto the oval. Emily cheered, Lucky strained against the lead trying to stay with Em, so Hendrix pulled her back.
‘Start line’s here, right?’ He made an imaginary line with his hand. ‘And, ready, steady –’
‘Go-ey!’ trumpeted Emily.
He had to yank Lucky off the line, but once she realised they were moving she rushed ahead. Hendrix ran like a brat on his way to a belting, he worked hard to make it look slow and torturous, like he was running under extreme duress. Emily could tell he was doing his best to look all bored and shufflish, but to her, he looked great. After one, ridiculously slow lap of the oval, Hendrix pulled in.
‘Happy?’ he asked.
‘You weren’t even trying.’
‘Sure I was,’ he pretended to pant. ‘I’m rooted after one lap. Couldn’t go another, I’ll bloody die.’
Emily pushed herself off the wall and came to the side of the oval. ‘Hendrix. Show me how you run. For real.’
He laughed at that. ‘I’m wearing jeans, Em. No one runs for real in jeans.’