She got up with some effort, pulled out her suitcase, turned it upside down and sat on the floor to tidy up its contents. There among the very few things she found the lace tablecloth still folded the way her mother had given it to her. She lifted it up with reverence, ran her fingers over it and brought it to her lips, the image of her mother vivid in her mind. How was that poor and pained soul? she thought with overwhelming tenderness. How were her father and brother? For once, distance proved beneficial. It prevented the bad news reaching the people she loved most. Her family had no idea what she was going through. But the moment things got better, she’d write to them.
She felt a sharp pain around her waist as she bent over to pick up a folded piece of paper that had fallen out of the case. She stood for a minute, took a breath and then recognised it instantly. It was Tomas’s address. How stupid of her not to keep in touch! The truth was she could never find the time. As soon as things settle I’ll get in touch with him, she thought, placing the paper in her pocket.
As she tried to get up to collect the rest of her things, she now felt a strong dragging sensation in her lower abdomen. She stood still for a while trying to understand what was happening. The headache that had started earlier made her giddy. She felt herself drifting and tried to resist it. She attempted to get up again but felt a stabbing pain. Suddenly, a burst of hot fluid rushed from between her legs. Successive strong pains made her panic. Scared, she began to call for help, hoping someone in the house would hear her. But her calls and her cries of agony were left unanswered. Her heart was beating feebly and irregularly. Streams of sweat from her forehead cascaded down around her eyes and her checks. Her head was empty as she drifted into a region of nothingness, with no pain, no regrets, no worry.
When she regained her senses her vision was dim and she could hear the rhythmic thump of a hammer inside her skull. Her ears were buzzing and her mouth was completely dry. She felt unbearably thirsty and couldn’t control a constant yawning.
‘Water!’ was the first word she whispered. ‘Water!’
She tried to move, to get up, and then she felt something warm and slimy, high up between her legs. She managed eventually, after a lot of effort, to pull down her pants and look at the red lump of flesh lying on the floor. A boy, she whispered, shaking the stillborn baby. And then more loudly: a boy!
Hot blood continued to run from between her thighs. With a completely clear mind she decided she had to go to hospital to be seen by a doctor. She took several towels from a drawer, placed them between her legs and secured them by wearing two pairs of pants. She then put on her coat and got to the street. Fortunately, the taxi stand was only few yards away.
‘Where to?’ the driver asked, and she gave him the paper with Tomas’s address she had in her pocket.
It didn’t take long for the taxi to arrive and stop in front of a big garden full of flowers. She paid and got out, leaning for a moment on the fence, unsure as to what to do next. It was stupid of her to come here! Why bother poor Tomas who must have his own problems? What could he do for her in her present condition? She should have gone straight to hospital to receive urgent medical care. Better still, she should have rung the mental hospital where they knew her and were nice to her. They were far more appropriate to help her than Tomas. In any case, if she were lucky, Tomas may not be living here or he may not be home. She entered the gate and gently pressed the doorbell.
‘Water, water!’ she begged the young woman who opened the door. ‘A glass of water please!’
‘Straight away,’ the girl answered in Greek.
‘Is this Tomas’s house? May I have some water, please?’ she repeated panting.
‘Yes, yes. He lives here. Come in. Are you okay? Should I call a doctor?’ the young woman asked, obviously worried.
‘No, I’m alright; it’s nothing. Only some water please,’ Tasia reassured her.
The girl disappeared down the long corridor and came back holding a glass of water. She took it and emptied it in one gulp.
Feeling a bit better she asked again, ‘Tomas! Is Tomas living here?’
‘Yes, we are living here. Tomas is my husband. How do you know him? What do you want him for?’
She looked alarmed as Tasia’s body shook all over. She ran and helped her lie on the sofa.
‘You stay here,’ she said with an imposing voice. I’ll go next door and ring for a doctor and I’ll be back in a minute.’
With great effort Tasia got up. Nothing mattered any more. She got out onto the street walking with unsteady steps. The blood from the saturated towels was cascading down her ankles. Her head was buzzing and the light began to dance all around, pulling her into nothingness.
T
ry not to move,’ a nurse advised her the moment she opened her eyes.
‘Where am I? Where am I?’ she asked still confused.
‘You are at St Vincent’s hospital,’ the nurse reassured her with a friendly smile, and removed a tuft of hair from her forehead with cool, gentle fingers. ‘You’ve lost a lot of blood and you need a transfusion. Don’t worry; they brought you in time. Everything will be alright. What you need now is rest — just rest.’
Tasia gazed up at the bottle with the red fluid dripping drop by drop into a faucet and rolling down inside a transparent tube to her elbow where the tube was covered by a bandage. The bed was soft and comfortable in contrast to the hard and cold, bloody floor where the body of her stillborn baby had lain. She lifted her free hand and palpated her abdomen. It was bound with a broad binder; it was flat, and back to its youthful size. Could it be that she never was pregnant? Could it be that all this adventure was only a bad dream, a figment of her imagination? And yet she had experienced the thrill and the vigour travelling through her body every time she felt the movement of the foetus inside her. Her eyelids had puffed up and got heavy. Her chest was tight, disallowing the air to reach her lungs. Alarmed, the nurse stopped the transfusion, at the same time ringing the bell and calling for help, while Tasia found herself in another incomprehensible dimension.
In amazement she was looking at her body from above while a team of doctors and nurses with syringes and other instruments worked on her. It was a shock to realise she could go through walls, fly through space, and in no time at all find herself being pulled at breakneck speed through a dark tunnel. She was looking back at all her experiences in life, all the people she had met or had read about, all the people and all the universe from the moment of the cracking of the cosmic egg, from the moment of the big bang till now.
A strong white light at the end of the tunnel was getting larger, now surrounding her with total harmony, acceptance and love, bliss she had never experienced in all her life. She ran eagerly to cross the bridge in front of her, to reach the opposite bank, but something indefinable stopped her.
No, no! Your time has not yet come! You have a lot to offer, a lot to accomplish, a lot to learn. You have a lot to give but the most important of all is love: love for your fellow human beings, love for the whole world.
These were not words, nor sensory perceptions, but an innermost understanding of total clarity. She wanted to stay, to cross the bridge, to reach the other bank. But like a bullet she came back and was looking at her body from above, when she felt a strong pain in her chest and opened up her eyes.
‘She’s back! She’s back!’
She heard the triumphant voice of a nurse.
‘Yes, thank God! We almost lost her.’
Why did they bring her back? Why didn’t they leave her there in that place of total peace? Why did they bring her back to the place where she always felt alone and a total stranger: to a place full of pain, strife and agony? She felt bitterness, anger and disappointment, but also a strong desire to return to that perfect, that blissful world that was her own.
It took Tasia several days to recuperate. She lay in bed with her eyes closed, preferring not to communicate with the doctors and nurses, not to face up to every-day reality. She had a st
rong need to confide in someone, to talk about her unimaginable experience. But she couldn’t find the right words or trust anyone to believe her. Most probably people would think she was still insane.
In any case, her dreams appeared to bring some order into her mind. Night after night she kept dreaming of people: many people in all forms and colours with all types of characteristics and expressions. Some were well-fed, well-dressed, confident and proud, others hungry, needy, stooped and worried. They were on a constant march and, regardless of their general appearance, they all stared deep into her eyes and into each other’s eyes, as if asking her and everybody else a shy and secret question: do you see me as an object, a thing to be exploited and used, or do you see me as a fellow human being, as your brother? Do you feel my pain? Do you recognise me? Do you feel for me? Do you love me?’
Love! The almighty power! Slowly but steadily things were becoming clearer in Tasia’s mind. She saw love as the springboard for every constructive action, as the cornerstone of peaceful coexistence and respectful communion between human beings, and between humans and nature. Yes, it was love that contributed to humanity’s rising to a higher level of understanding and existence. It was love that created civilisation and ideal, genuine art.
With those types of thoughts and emotions Tasia filled the hours in the hospital bed as she formulated her future plans, freed once and for all from the fear of death.
‘We almost lost you. You had an allergic reaction to the transfusion that almost killed you. You’re very lucky to be alive.’
Nick reiterated what she already knew the moment she opened her eyes.
‘Your heart had stopped for several minutes and they didn’t know if you’d pull through. But I had full confidence in you. You are a real fighter.’
‘It had nothing to do with me. My time wasn’t up yet,’ Tasia joked.
‘Thank God for that. I couldn’t have coped if you had died.’
‘Oh, come on! I wasn’t your responsibility!’ Tasia answered mystified.
‘You see, I carry a considerable amount of guilt for many things you went through,’ he continued.
‘I don’t believe it. That’s not true. The only thing I know is that you are one of the most caring and the most decent human beings I have known. You owed nothing to me or to Olga but you stood by our sides better than a trusted and reliable friend.’
‘Let me confide my crime to you, to expiate my guilt. You know I introduced Chris to the girl he married. I also advised him to get married before you came so as not to complicate matters.’
‘And you did very well. That’s how things were meant to be. After all, who could say that Chris and I were suited to each other? Leave it; there is no point talking about it.’
‘Well, okay, we can leave it. But I must tell you that Olga and I have kept you in the dark about many things, deliberately. She wanted it that way and I went along with it. I agreed to keep how serious her condition was from you. The doctors didn’t hold out much hope. She suffered from an idiopathic heart condition that had destroyed most of the heart muscle and it was only a matter of time.’
‘I admit I would have preferred to have known about it. I could have coped better.’
‘There is more. We shouldn’t have pushed you to marry Martin. He was not the right man for you. He is not a man to have a family. He is fun and good company but totally shallow and irresponsible. It was Olga’s idea that you’d be better off having someone by your side and I agreed to encourage you to marry Martin. I didn’t really know him all that well. He is the type of person who knows how best to present himself and to hide all his faults. I beg you to forgive me. I shouldn’t have let you marry him.’
‘Listen, Nick, don’t hold yourself responsible for all my bad luck. I have to accept my share of blame too. I’ve made several mistakes and acted very foolishly in many situations. To tell you the truth, only a saint would have done the things you did for Olga and me. You are a true friend and a hero. I wish there were more like you, so generous, so compassionate and selfless.’
‘Don’t exaggerate, Tasia. If you don’t help your fellow human beings in their hour of need then what sort of a person are you? That’s one of the things my late grandmother was adamant about: you’re not a human being unless you are there for your fellow humans. But let’s change the subject now and talk seriously about your future. It is my belief that the best thing for you is to return to your home and your family. This is not a place for a young and inexperienced girl like you. It’s difficult even for a man to survive. That’s why I’m going back to Greece as soon as my two-year bond expires. I never felt comfortable in this unfriendly country. I never liked Australia or Australians.’
‘Yes, you made your position very clear from the very start. I have never heard you say anything positive about Australia.’
‘That’s how I feel and nothing is going to change that. In any case, just listen to this: I have spoken to some people I know in the Greek consulate about your getting a divorce and they told me they can help. I don’t think Martin would object. He’s not interested in preserving your marriage. Don’t forget he came to the hospital only once and that was because I’d put pressure on him. It’s pretty obvious he’s scared of family responsibilities.’
‘I know. I figured that out.’
‘As you’ve paid your own ticket, you are free to go whenever you like. And I know the Greek consulate can arrange for you to go back. What do you say? Do you want me to attend to it?’
While he spoke, Tasia kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. Finally, she turned and looked at him with great tenderness.
‘If there were hundreds more like you Nick, life on this planet would have been more warm and humane.’
Nick fidgeted on his seat, obviously embarrassed.
‘You make me blush, Tasia. You’re exaggerating.’
She remained silent for a long time as if trying to sort out her thoughts.
‘I can understand your concerns about my future and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for caring. However, I’ll have to refuse your offer. I don’t want to return home.’
‘You don’t? What are you going to do?’
‘Lying here, I’ve had time to think and to make some serious decisions about the future course of my life. I already know that as soon as I get discharged from this hospital I can go to the Royal Park hospital to get work as a ward assistant.’
‘Yes, but where are you going to live?’
‘That will all be taken care of. I will be living in the nurses’ home. When my English improves I’ll enrol in the nurse training school. How can I explain? I feel I have a mission to accomplish. I have a lot to learn, to give, to do, and I have a lot of living to do,’ Tasia said with great determination.
Nick said nothing but kept looking at her with admiration.
‘Until now I had allowed my life to drift whatever way the wind took me. From now on I’m taking control of my life. I’m taking my life into my own two hands. From now on I will take conscious and responsible decisions, with full acceptance of responsibility for my actions. For me, this is not the end of my life here, my dear Nick. This is not the end but the beginning. The beginning of my conscious and responsible existence.’
New Releases… also from Sid Harta Publishers
OTHER BEST SELLING SID HARTA TITLES CAN BE FOUND AT
http://sidharta.com.au
http://Anzac.sidharta.com
***
HAVE YOU WRITTEN A STORY?
http://publisher-guidelines.com
Best-selling titles by Kerry B. Collison
Readers are invited to visit our publishing websites at:
http://sidharta.com.au
http://publisher-guidelines.com/
Kerry B. Collison’s home pages:
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/author.asp?AuthorID=2239
http://www.expat.or.id/sponsors/collison.html
email: [email protected]
Purchase Sid
Harta titles online at:
http://sidharta.com.au
The Lace Tablecloth Page 32