by Garth Wade
Syd knew he must have looked intense, possibly even a mess – red in the face, fists clenched – so he purposefully slowed his breathing. He tried to control himself, but erupted, loudly enough for the whole room to hear him clearly: ‘What the fuck is going on Amber?’
She stopped about three steps from him. The chatting nurses fell silent as one of them said in a loud warning tone, ‘Are you okay, Amber?’
She looked Syd in the eye, as a tear forced its way out and ran down his cheek.
‘Thanks, I’ll be okay.’ Amber took another step and asked, ‘Can we go somewhere to talk?’
Syd opened both hands and said, ‘You lead.’
Amber walked slowly past him while watching his eyes, and then out the door, leading him to the empty family room, where family members could wait while critical care was provided to their injured or dying loved ones. Syd thought it fitting: this was going to be a critical conversation, one that might result in the death of their relationship.
Amber closed the door behind Syd. The windowless room was small, but enough for two cheap double-seater couches, a bench, sink, and mini fridge. He felt claustrophobic; he wanted to jump out; he wanted to be in a plane.
‘I told you we needed to talk,’ Amber said, ‘but I didn’t want it to be like this.’
‘What the fuck are you talking about, Amber? He says you’re his girlfriend! My patient from tonight!’ Syd stood with his left calf muscle pushing against the couch, a subconscious reminder to himself not to move.
Amber pouted at Syd then looked down.
‘The Argentinian!’
‘I know, I know,’ she sighed, ‘I know the Argentinian.’ She stared at the floor in silence. She took a deep breath. ‘We’ve been together since he arrived in Australia nine months ago.’
Syd’s shoulders dropped as he let out a purposeful sigh.
More silence.
‘The whole time we’ve been together? What? Why?’ Syd spoke in a less aggressive tone, as though a weight had lifted from his mind now that Amber had at least admitted her disloyalty.
‘I don’t know why, Sydney. I have no real answer. I care for you both very deeply.’ She wouldn’t meet his eye.
‘Holy fuck. I can’t believe you’re going to try that angle. Fucking bullshit Amber! Rather than actually admitting you’re addicted to the attention? Or something like that? And the sex too, no doubt? God I can’t imagine how that guy fucks you.’ Syd repulsed himself with his own words. ‘Fuck! What is wrong with you? I fucking love you!’
Amber glanced up at Syd. ‘And I … love you too, Sydney. I love hearing you say it actually. I really do love you,’ she said, stepping closer, slowly, dramatically, as though she was now convinced. He pushed back on the couch and they both paused.
‘You can’t love me Amber. You’ve been with another person the whole four months we’ve been together!’ Syd continued to fight back the tears and to contain his apoplectic mood.
‘I do, Sydney, love … you,’ she said sexily and swayed in even closer. ‘And after all the help we have given each other? We can’t lose that. You helping me open up the way you have, emotionally I mean, and I’ve helped you with your studies and chatting about jobs, and you know we both love being together … Sydney?’
Syd glared at Amber, noticing how gorgeous she was when she creased her eyebrows that little bit. He wondered if he could forget about what he now knew, and continue to feel the love and passion he had felt so wholeheartedly for this woman.
‘I can keep helping you, you know, I won’t stop Sydney. I love helping and teaching and we’ve learnt so much together, you know? We’ve had a great time, you know we have. And the sex Sydney … oh the sex.’ Amber spoke girlishly. ‘I know now I love you Sydney.’
‘I think I may be going crazy listening to you say this stuff. This is not the Amber I know,’ Syd said. ‘Even though this is all very raw, I still have the sense to know you’ve cheated on me all that time we were helping each other. I’m not thanking you for that, in fact, fuck this—’
‘Sydney, please, I’m really sorry,’ she said calmly. ‘I do, really love you.’
‘What on earth did you want to talk to me about? When you didn’t want it to be like this? “Ah yes, Sydney, honey, we need to talk. Um, I’ve been fucking another bloke the entire time we’ve been together. Just thought I’d tell you, but that’s okay isn’t it? Because we’re so close and we have so much in common. Just letting you know honey …”’ Syd barked.
‘I wanted to tell you, Sydney. I felt terrible earlier tonight.’
‘Wait. Hold the fuck on.’ Syd paused. There was no sound. ‘I’m the other bloke aren’t I? Not him. He’s the actual boyfriend.’
‘Sydney I have made a mistake—’
‘You’ve been with him for nine months, Amber! Nine months. Are you fucking nuts? I hope you are nuts, then you will at least have a diagnosis, rather than simply being an attention-seeking dick-hungry lier.’ Syd’s temporal vein was visible.
She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. Then, as though she’d flicked a switch, she straightened up, looked Syd straight in the eye and said, ‘I’m sorry. It will never happen again. I love you.’
‘What? No. You can’t. You can’t say that. Do you go out to dinner with the Argentinian, or on adventures, or walks, or just have sex, or … ah … I don’t know, what do you do?’ Syd spat.
As Amber drew breath to reply, he cut in, ‘Actually it doesn’t even matter what you think the answer is. Fuck this, I’m outta here.’
Amber leapt forward and wrapped her arms around him hard. ‘I’m so sorry Sydney,’ she said, ‘I only want you.’
Syd’s body stiffened, repelled by her touch. He was dumbfounded. ‘Amber. You are obsessed with the attention. Now get the fuck off me. I have to think.’
She released him and turned her back, head bent. He could hear her forcing out the sobs as he opened the door. He felt he should say something more to her, but could think of nothing remotely suitable.
He walked out and past bed ten, trying not to wonder if Sebastian knew too. He thought infidelity disgraceful, and felt ashamed and embarrassed that this was their story. He felt completely alone, but told himself firmly that not everyone was out to get him. Although he had only met Sebastian tonight, as a patient, he wondered if it was all ‘just meant to be’. He hoped that it was; that this had happened for a reason and that better things would come in time. His attempt at positive thinking didn’t stop a heaped handful of salt being rubbed into the wound though.
He felt the familiar vibration of the pager on his hip and clicked the button:
code 2b – 25a1 – non-suicidal and alert – 455 tottenham street – woolloongabba
He walked the wrong way, numb, unable to concentrate on the simple things. Without really paying any attention, he was heading toward the desk where Bronte sat. As soon as she glanced up from her desk and shot him a smile, he realised where he was, and stood blinking at her like a deer in the headlights.
‘Are you going back to see the ghosts again?’
Syd wiped his palms on his pants, looking like he should be in one of the mental health seclusion rooms, then turned and shuffled away. Bronte looked puzzled.
Syd’s circling thoughts paralysed him. Maybe Sebastian had no idea? Maybe Amber had plotted this the entire time? To have two boyfriends, two partners, two lovers? Maybe he and she both knew and didn’t care? But she knew what? She knew everything didn’t she?
Life. It is way too short.
Turbi massacre
Ten years earlier – Sonia
A whirly-whirly funnelled the dust and moved erratically across the ground, passing over two huts and across a football field, which was completely devoid of grass, increasing in size as it approached the far goal. The fifteen barefoot Kenyan children who played there ignored the dust devil completely, focusing on their ratty football as they passed and scored.
These were the happiest kids she had ever
seen.
Sonia was the fifteen-year-old daughter of missionary parents. She had travelled with them through Central America, the Middle East, and Africa: in fact this was the fourth African country in two years. She was home-schooled by her parents, although it was rare for her to learn anything she hadn’t already found in a textbook. Her parents were simple and caring people. Christians to their core, they believed that if they spread the Gospel far enough, they would be amongst the anointed and in the very best position to meet Jesus when He returned. They taught the Bible with an intensity bordering on ferocity to both young and old in the Third World countries they visited. They believed that Africa had to change, and what they taught was the start of that change. There was always a school or church needing to be built, so their semi-professional building skills were continually useful. The ministry provided food, clothing and shelter to those who took the Lord into their hearts and spread God’s love; predictably, that was almost every soul in the villages where they worked.
Sonia walked towards the main part of the town, Turbi, which she could see in the distance. The whirly-whirly filled her eyes with dust, and she rubbed them clear once the vortex had finished with her. It was quite a strong whirly, and Sonia felt as though it had lifted her somewhat. She smiled as she continued towards town, where, today, she would be teaching her loving primary-school students her favourite subject: science.
She loved the children’s joy in learning, the wonderful innocence of their minds, and was humbled by the absolute respect they showed, even though she was a fifteen-year-old, unqualified teacher. Sonia loved her students.
The whirly continued, following the main dirt road towards town and passing a large yard of camels. As the sheds became shops and the road began to narrow, the whirly started to thin. It had lost its drive. It faded from the top, and before long, it was nothing but a breath of red dust, brushing the heels of a member of the Borana tribe, who stood looking over a village block, holding a machete in each hand.
His head was wrapped in a striped rag of blue, orange and green, his eyes were bloodshot, his torso swathed in sky-blue cloth, and behind him stood thirty warriors in similar dress, armed with similar weapons.
Suddenly, the small army of Borana tribesmen spread out and rushed toward the homes and shops. Sonia heard the yells and taunts, the screams. She was well aware of the tensions between the two local tribes, having heard about their bloody history from her primary students who lived in fear of the Borana. She panicked. Despite all the advice her parents had given her about staying clear of tribal problems, she thought of her students. What could she do? She had no idea. So she ran. She ran as fast as she could towards the bloodcurdling screams.
The closer she got, the more clearly she could see and the louder the sounds of attack and retreat were. By the time she reached the shops, the Borana had moved on, retreating south, back to their own village.
Amongst the mental images of the massacre, which Sonia would never be able to forget, were those of twenty-two of her primary school class, and both her parents.
She wept for weeks.
Green button. Blue eyes
23:40 hrs – Princess Alexandra Hospital Emergency Department
Syd’s mind dizzied as he walked through the ED and saw Cam and Sonia in the write-up room completing paperwork. He tried to avoid being seen as he strolled past the door, which made his presence more obvious, and pressed the green exit button for the automatic doors. The crisp air hit his face and arms, raising goosebumps, and at the same time he heard the write-up room door open behind him. He hesitated.
‘Hi Sydney, are you okay?’ Sonia said.
He opened his eyes wide and blinked, before he turned and said, ‘Hey Sonia, yeah, all okay, thanks. How much longer are you guys going to be? We just got another job.’
His face still felt red, and he could feel the drying tears on his cheeks, but he didn’t touch them.
‘Well, you don’t look okay. We have to look after you students,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m happy to chat about it if you like?’
The automatic doors closed.
‘Aah, no, it’s okay, it’s not work-related stuff. Work’s fine,’ he said unconvincingly, and reached out and hit the green button again.
‘Look, Sydney, it’s been a big night for you guys, Cameron was telling me.’ Sonia came right up to Syd and gently grasped his elbow. Her hand was warm. ‘Especially with that stabbing, and the wife, and now this fire. If you have any concerns and don’t talk about it—’
‘Jeez I haven’t had time to think about all that,’ Syd cut in, recalling the events of the night’s work, ‘Maybe it’s just better not to think about it right now.’ Syd looked into Sonia’s kind eyes, then turned away. ‘I’ve just been having some relationship issues with my girlfriend, that’s all. And they’re being addressed tonight, here and now.’
The doors closed.
‘Oh that’s rough. Is she a patient or staff?’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’
‘Try me. I’ve had my fair share of relationship issues.’
‘And I’ve only just now found out, as in, two fuckin’ minutes ago. I’m probably not making any sense anyway,’ Syd caught himself, realising he was nervous.
Sonia moved even closer. ‘Okay. Okay. No problems Sydney. I don’t want to push you at all. But I am more than happy to chat about whatever you like, whenever you like. Okay?’ Her blue eyes locked onto his. He felt instantly aroused, realised it, and then dismissed it by reaching for the green button once more.
‘Well it looks like we’ve got another one, son.’ Cam’s booming voice broke open the moment. ‘Let’s get a move on, and save this muppet from bringing any joy to the world.’ The two of them shot him an anxious look, and he understood Sonia’s much better than Syd’s. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Hey Cam, Syd’s just having a crappy time at the moment. Maybe you could do patient care for this one?’ Sonia suggested.
Syd looked away.
‘For sure, Sonia. No problems, lad. Hey I’ve gotta do some of the work haven’t I?’ Cam said with a grin. ‘Sonia, how are you gonna get your car?’
‘It’s all good, I’ll organise someone to drive me back there to pick it up,’ said Sonia, turning back to Syd and giving him a heartfelt smile.
Danielle
23:50 hrs – Bravo 989
Syd drove the ambulance out of the hospital grounds, under the overpass, and one block further then told comms they were ‘on scene’.
‘Do you want me to bring anything in?’
‘Just the de-fib mate,’ Cam said as they both left the vehicle. Across the road was a small shopping centre, and although everything was closed, the colourful neon of a typical takeaway store lit up the street.
Four flights of stairs later, the two paramedics found the unit number, and Cam gave a loud, solid double knock on the door. No reply.
Cam knocked again and called, ‘Hello? Ambulance,’ to which he heard a faint voice inside the unit say, ‘Come in, it’s unlocked.’
As Cam pushed the door open, they were hit in the face by a pungent stench. Cam stopped and turned, still holding the handle, and Syd slammed into him, following too close behind with other things on his mind.
‘Watch it mate,’ said Cam, then whispered, ‘and take a deep breath.’
The unit was cluttered and slovenly – it was as though Syd and Cam had been teleported into another world, a world where cleanliness and organisation didn’t matter, and where simple hygiene was outlawed. The air was thick like exhaust and stank of decaying food and flatulence.
After tripping over litter strewn around the doorway, the two paramedics scanned the lounge room, as if preparing to set sail on a journey into the unknown. An entire corner was dedicated to empty pizza boxes and fast food containers, which were not stacked but thrown carelessly into a pile. Nearby was a similar-sized-pile of newspapers, some opened, some still rolled in plastic wrap. On the other s
ide of the room, near the bedroom door, clothing was piled up in no noticeable order almost to the ceiling.
All available floor space was covered in layers of junk, apart from a narrow path that led, roughly, from the front door to the dark green recliner chair in the middle of the lounge room, then on to the kitchenette and the bedroom. Not a single scrap of carpet or flooring was visible.
The stink of the unit was inescapable. Both paramedics breathed through their mouths, and Syd felt ill, sure he could taste it.
On the dark green recliner chair sat a woman with both arms propped on the armrests and her feet only just reaching the floor. She was morbidly obese and seemed to spill over the chair on which she sat. Her skin was clear and pale, her hair dark and oily, and she wore a dirty green T-shirt with blue tracksuit pants that ended at her knees.
Cam led the way into the urban rubbish jungle.
‘Hello,’ he said, ‘I’m Cameron, what’s your name?’
The woman on the recliner didn’t move.
‘Danielle,’ she said.
‘Hi Danielle, that’s Sydney behind me there. What seems to be the problem this morning?’
‘Oh well, I dunno, I think it’s the depression. I just need some help. Someone to review me,’ she replied breathlessly, rushing her words. Syd instantly thought her voice reminded him of pencil sharpenings: woody and delicate, but jagged, and ready to crumble if squeezed too hard.
‘What do you mean you think it’s the depression? What’s it?’ said Cam patiently, before turning to Syd and asking him to get a full set of vitals from their new patient.
Syd stood behind Cam, with no room to move. ‘Yep, no problem. Just move to your left a bit Cam,’ Syd said quietly. He attempted to step around Cam in a kind of ‘straddle’, as well as keep his feet on the path, but the weight of the defibrillator caused him to overbalance. He grabbed at Cam’s arm as he fell backwards, panicking as though he were falling - in what felt like slow motion - into a great canyon … lined with fire and filled with cannibals.