Calm to Chaos

by Garth Wade

  He drove his car down the main road where he and Cameron, and then he and Sonia, had driven through the night. The road was two lanes each way, separated by a wide nature strip, with a speed limit of eighty kilometres per hour. It was now jammed with the nine-to-fivers. The cars and small trucks all drove ridiculously close to one another, all keen to start their ‘hump day’.

  Syd drove carefully and usually too fast, but at the moment, all the vehicles were travelling at the same speed, as though all joined by a giant cosmic elastic band, which rarely allowed overtaking. Syd allowed a generous space between his car and the car in front. Annoyingly, a blue Audi thought it would get to its destination more quickly, and cut in and filled the space.

  Syd sighed, scowled, and held both hands open on the top of the steering wheel.

  ‘Why, dickface, why?’ he said in a monotone.

  The radio hosts told their jokes and their artificial laughter sounded in sync. Syd backed off the accelerator and recreated the generous and sensible space in front. The traffic on the opposite side going towards the city was regularly at a standstill, and the sunshine heated up early.

  The phone rang; it was Amber. Syd paused. Usually, it would be a quick push of the button on the hands free kit and Syd would enjoy being able to multitask, speaking to the love of his life while driving, but now, he doubted the man that the past night’s experiences had made him. His choices had been poor. He knew it, and because of this, he questioned himself. The confusion of last night and this morning hung above him like a threatening storm. He had seen Claire faced with the injury of Cam and their closeness afterwards. Syd respected it very much. He had been witness to the actual loss of Ken, and how his wife had to bear seeing her partner dying in front of her. He had felt the love and loyalty in the simple hand clasp of Ted and Audrey and in the way they spoke with each other in a worrying time. He had sympathised with Danielle and the isolation that it seemed she chose to live with.

  He wanted to be connected. Maybe what Amber offered was what he needed. He questioned himself further.

  Life is too short.

  He pushed the button.

  ‘Hello,’ he said clearly.

  ‘Hello Sydney, how are you? Was the rest of your night okay?’ Amber had a babyish tone.

  ‘No, not really. It was a big night on all accounts. Jobs at work and my life, which you’ll bear witness to.’ Syd drove even more carefully now he was focused on conversing with the woman who had just broken his heart.

  ‘Sydney, I need to apologise for everything. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

  Syd waited and thought.

  ‘And it’s taken you the four months we’ve been together to work that out?’ he asked with increasing volume and intensity, ‘And only because I accidentally suspected it when I saw you walking out of the Argentinian’s cubicle?’ The whole four months, he thought. He tried to relax into the seat, and drove on with the other westward-bound commuters.

  ‘Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about, Sydney. I really don’t know what I was thinking. It was as if I was living like a rock star, spending time with these two guys … one who loved me more than anything and showed it more than he said it … that’s you Sydney, it’s obvious to me now.’

  ‘So, now that’s it obvious to you, you think you may want it?’

  ‘I know I want it Sydney. I want you. In fact, come over to my place so we can talk face to face rather than on the phone. I really would love to see your face, Sydney.’ Amber’s tone softened. ‘Come over, I’ll make breakfast.’

  He paused again, thinking hard. ‘Last night a few things became apparent to me Amber, and one of the big ones was that I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with someone who I connect with, someone I love and who loves me back, who I can share the good and the bad parts of life with, and who’ll be with me through it.’

  ‘I can commit you know Sydney,’ Amber said as Syd’s traffic slowed for a red light.

  ‘You can commit? Well that’s great that you have that ability.’

  ‘And I will commit, Sydney. To you. And you only. That is what I want. I promise.’ There was a whine in her tone now. ‘You really should come here for breakfast. I’d love to make you breakfast. And, well, you know, we could fool around. I promise I’ll make it up to you,’ she said.

  Syd could hear her gently clacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. The traffic started again and quickly changed to the regular crawl.

  ‘So, you’re offering to feed and fool around with me to make up for what you’ve done?’ Syd said. He knew Amber would sense his wording was aggressive. ‘Something sexy?’ he added soothingly.

  ‘Well, we’ve always had that part pretty well worked out haven’t we? I thought we could learn something new. Together.’

  ‘That’s a bit vague.’

  ‘We can discover something when you get here.’

  ‘So you want us to be together?’

  ‘I know now that’s what I want Sydney.’

  ‘And what about the Argentinian?’

  ‘I have already told him we are not seeing each other anymore.’

  ‘What reason did you give him?’

  Cogs.

  ‘I told him I loved someone else,’ she said. ‘I love you, Sydney.’ The traffic continued. Syd watched the road.

  ‘Did you tell him you’ve been sleeping with me for the last four months?’

  ‘Well, I … didn’t say … those exact words, but, more or less … yes, that’s kind of what I told him. And that I love you, Sydney.’

  ‘And how did he take that Amber?’

  ‘Oh I don’t want you to worry about him, or that situation Sydney, just come over for breakfa—’

  ‘You know what, Amber?’ Syd said kindly. ‘The person I thought you were, was the woman I wanted forever. Maybe I jumped the gun, maybe four months is way too soon to be thinking that far into the future, and forever was definitely way too far, I can see that now. So that mistake was mine alone. Forever though, is not un—’

  ‘Oh Sydney, just stop. Don’t be like that, baby, just come over for breakfa—’

  ‘Forever is what I want. And the person I discovered you to be this morning is a person I could never trust, and one who I could never love. What you have done is so backward and … hurtful and … deceptive, that I would never be able to have confidence in anything you say or do. I have no idea what part of having another relationship you are addicted to, whether it’s the love, or the attention, or the … sex … or that maybe I just wasn’t everything you wanted. But I know this … that forever is not what I want with you.’ He paused. She was silent, and Syd sensed no cogs grinding away. ‘So, from now on, when we see each other at hospital … we will be professional, but that is all. No smiles, no “oh how was your weekend?” bullshit, and definitely no getting back together. And when we hang up from this call, delete my number and never message or call me again.’ Syd paused again, choosing his words carefully. ‘Things will work out for you Amber. I know that. You know that. You control things so they do. I don’t know why or how, but it’s how you live. And, now, I want absolutely nothing to do with you. Do you understand?’ A long silence followed. ‘I would like you to answer.’ Another long silence.

  ‘Yes,’ Amber said quietly, then her voice sounded like it had grown horns and a tail, ‘I understand.’

  Syd hung up. Another weight lifted from his shoulders. He felt miserable, but free.

  Soon after, the mood lifted and he smiled to himself.

  The traffic still hadn’t eased but Syd thought that the sky looked as though it had grown bigger, or maybe his world had just expanded. One hundred metres further up the road, Syd saw the flash of a dog running across the road on the opposite side. He lost sight of it somewhere in the central nature strip. Syd held his breath and started to decelerate. He couldn’t see the dog amongst the bushes.

  Suddenly, in a flash of four legs, the dog ran out in front of th
e car in front of Syd’s, the blue Audi. The driver didn’t see the dog and hit it at full speed, dragging the brown dog underneath and out past the back like exhaust. Syd had slowed then stopped before coming to the dog, which lay still on the road. The truck behind Syd stopped and the driver got out at the same time as he did to inspect the wounded animal. The traffic in the other lane had slowed but didn’t stop. The blue Audi did the same and was quickly lost to sight.

  The brown staffy-cross lay still, whimpering, with one obvious broken back leg and massive gravel rash down its whole back, and substantial chunks of fur and skin missing around its neck and head. The truck driver approached the dog with his hand out until Syd told him to wait.

  Syd had been around dogs all his life and knew some injured animals could lash out despite the human’s best intentions. He walked around the dog and asked the truck driver to get a blanket out of Syd’s car while he Googled nearby vets and called the closest one.

  Syd couldn’t do a full assessment of the dog, particularly as he wasn’t a vet, but he spoke with the female on the phone and gave her the best details he could. The vet was happy to receive the dog.

  The truck driver told Syd that they could lift the dog together in the blanket and put him on the truck floor for transport. They did so carefully, all the while trying to keep the dog as calm as possible. The dog allowed itself to be handled and never tried to bite either of the men. It looked up at Syd with big sad brown eyes. Syd thanked the truck driver, and followed him the three kilometres up the road to the vet.

  Syd and the truck driver carried the brown dog through the sliding doors of the vets, as if they were both paramedics arriving at hospital with a patient on a stretcher. They were met by a pleasant redheaded vet in her mid-twenties, and two younger women, possibly students. The three of them walked through the surgery door and held it open for the men and dog to pass through. They gently laid the dog on the table and took a step back before the women worked fast, assessing the dog’s injuries. One of the students grabbed the microchip scanner and read out the owner’s address, which was on the road where the dog was hit. She then wheeled a screen connected to a triangular shaped probe with a tightly wound cable.

  The vet, whom had given her name as Kate, rolled the gelled probe over the brown dog’s chest and a sizable black mass could clearly be seen on the screen.

  ‘That’s blood,’ she said. The three women all looked at each other with a frown.

  ‘Is there any good trying to fix him, do you think?’ asked Syd.

  Kate looked over the dog.

  ‘You said everyone was going eighty? That’s a big force. Even though he’s stockier than many dogs, that energy has to transfer somewhere. And, unfortunately, it was transferred into this guy’s chest.’ She squeezed her lips together. ‘We’ll phone the owners and tell them. We’ll make him comfortable. I’ll suggest putting him to sleep. I think that’ll be best.’

  Syd stepped back over to the dog, and looked into the brown eyes of the dying dog, then reached forward and rubbed behind his ear.

  Syd’s voice quivered and broke as he burst into a quick bout of tears. ‘Poor bloody dog.’ Kate put her hand on his shoulder and said, ‘It’s okay, these things happen.’

  Syd sniffed, trying to stop the tears, but couldn’t. ‘It’s just an innocent dog. He doesn’t know,’ he blubbered.

  Aside from Kate, the three other people in the room were noticeably uncomfortable seeing someone so upset. Syd sniffed again, wiped his face with his arm and said, ‘Big night.’

  ‘Have you been up all night?’ One of the young students asked with way too much excitement in her voice.

  ‘Yep. More or less. But I am going home now.’ Syd took another swipe with the other arm. ‘Thank you ladies. I would’ve been lost if you couldn’t have taken him.’

  ‘No problems. Have you got someone to talk to?’ asked Kate. ‘It’s important. But I’m sure you know that.’

  Vincent

  Eight years earlier – Sydney

  The ute’s V8 engine rumbled and slowed just a little as the bitumen road finished and was replaced with graded white-yellow dirt. Large plumes of dust billowed behind the metallic blue tailgate.

  They were surrounded by the quality farming land of Victoria. Behind them was the tilted Grampians range, and in front were rolling fields knee-high with wheat, all edged by thick green grass. The cabin of the ute smelt of cigarette smoke and sounded like country music.

  Sydney drove with one hand on the wheel, easy and comfortable while his passenger and girlfriend Zarni, gripped her seat with both hands.

  ‘Jesus, do you think you could slow down?’ she said skittishly. Syd immediately took his foot off the accelerator.

  ‘Sorry. I’m not driving to scare you. I’ll slow down,’ he replied.

  ‘It’s different driving fast on dirt,’ she said, satisfied with his reaction.

  ‘I am driving safely though. I don’t want to scare you babe.’

  ‘Well, I’d prefer to finish this trip on a high, Sydney, not wrapped around a tree you know.’

  ‘I get it,’ said Syd. They drove on, comfortably and safely, for the next seventy kilometres after which they turned off at a letterbox marked Agapanthus onto a smaller dirt road. ‘This is it,’ Syd said as he drove slowly in past a dirt tennis court encircled by stunning gardens kept in perfect condition. Beds of roses, delphiniums, iris, hydrangeas, foxgloves, were bordered by expanses of velvet lawn where no one ever stepped or sat. The single-storey red brick house was bordered by a wide verandah with two huge chimneys, four immense front windows open to the breeze, and five wide steps leading to the front door. It was a property that looked as though – in its heyday – it would have been a magnificent sight. Now, though, despite the carefully-tended gardens, the house was shabby and worn.

  The great front door swung open and a thin, bald man with a moustache stood there with his arms outstretched, clad in a mustard-coloured shirt and red shorts. Syd pulled the handbrake on and looked at his father. Knowing his voice could not be heard he said, ‘Jeez he looks sick.’

  Zarni ducked her head to look past Syd out through the window.

  ‘So, Zarni, that’s Michael, my dad,’ he said.

  Three hours later, after the polite introductions and the usual chitchat, five people sat down to enjoy pre-dinner drinks. Michael’s wife, Paula, buzzed about and fussed over everyone; Paula’s father, Vincent, the original owner and grazier, sat calmly with a half-smile on his face, cut off from conversation by his increasing deafness. The dining room was the showpiece with the most exquisite furnishings; cedar everywhere, in perfect condition and polished to a warm gleam, all of it from the mid to late 1800s. To Syd every single chair looked as if it had been made to be as uncomfortable as possible. There was also a double-ended settee upholstered in black, white and red stripes which looked strange and out of place but when Syd sat on it he realised how comfortable it was. That was until his father started to brag about its value.

  Paula soon served dinner – a perfectly cooked traditional lamb roast – which was hailed by all the diners, except Michael. When he wasn’t purposefully ignoring his wife, he spoke disparagingly to her.

  ‘Would you please fetch me another bourbon, daaarling.’

  ‘I’m almost out of cigarettes. Grab us another packet from the pantry, daaarling.’

  ‘Sydney looks like he wants another, Paula daaarling, grab him a fresh one.’

  The man was disrespectful and rude, and Syd was ashamed of his father. Paula forced a smile and bore the treatment for as long as she could before she began shooting dark looks at her husband. He ignored them and continued to speak to her as if she were a servant.

  Syd cringed at each word that left his father’s mouth. He felt humiliated for his stepmother, livid at his father, and apprehensive about how his girlfriend would regard his father’s behaviour. He felt miserable for Vincent, who had grown up on this property, and appeared to be unaware of what was happ
ening to his family despite it taking place directly in front of him.

  Then, at one point in the meal, when Michael had left the table and Paula was speaking to Zarni, Vincent leant over to Sydney and whispered, ‘Lack of respect is his problem.’

  Sydney looked deeply into Vincent’s eyes and saw almost ninety years of life’s lessons, hard work, and graciousness. He leant back towards the elder and said, ‘And he doesn’t know how good he’s got it.’

  Vincent gave a slightly lop-sided grin and nodded.

  Michael included Syd and Zarni in the after-dinner conversation, and although it was enjoyable, Syd felt weary of the company. Whenever Paula spoke, Michael immediately dismissed her opinion, tacking on the sarcastic ‘daaarling’ that seemed to punctuate all of his remarks to her. Paula refused to be ignored or embarrassed, adding her own ‘daaarling’ to her responses.

  It was as though they were at war with each other, and ‘daaarling’ was their safe word, a reminder that they were married, and should try to get along. If so, it wasn’t working.

  Michael continued to disparage both Paula and Vincent until Syd and Zarni excused themselves, saying the long day’s driving had exhausted them and they needed some rest. Hugs and kisses were exchanged before everybody retired for the evening.

  Some time later, while Syd and Zarni were snuggling, Zarni asked abruptly, ‘Do you think you’ll be like your dad when you’re older?’

  Syd was taken aback. He didn’t know what to say. He was embarrassed by his father and wished he hadn’t brought Zarni here to meet him. Syd stared into the dark of the high-ceilinged old room and felt cool air on his chest and face. He searched for the right words. ‘Zarni,’ he began, ‘I haven’t seen my father for many years. Actually, this is the first time I’ve seen him since I’ve been an adult … And his behaviour is, jeez, I don’t even know what his behaviour is … But I’m sorry you had to see it.’