During the next four years she heard little from him. He wrote only an occasional letter although she wrote to him every week. Sometimes, she wondered if marrying him was a mistake, but always the memory of his strong personality cast her doubts aside. At the end of the war many of the soldiers returned, but as the weeks and months went by, she never heard from him. She inquired at the local Army office and learned that he had been discharged long before with all the others. She sought out his family only to find that they knew no more than she. Nor did they seem to care. Then one afternoon, more than eight months after his discharge, he appeared at her father’s farm.
“It started then,” she told Aaron, “I don’t know what he expected, but it was never good enough. We found a place to live in Adelaide and I went to work tending bar. He never looked for a job. If he saw his family, I never knew. He didn’t like it when I went to see mine. Mostly, he slept the days away. At night he came to the pub where I worked, looking for free beer. He hit me from the beginning.”
Aaron listened closely to all that she said, waiting for the single piece of information that would enable him to do what he intended.
As the days passed he yearned for her touch. The soft warmth of her body next to his remained vivid in his thoughts. Yet in her every expression, he sensed a deadened spirit that no longer responded to life. He was glad to have her in his home, eager to protect and nurture her, but he was stymied in his attempts to draw out the old Melissa. Alone, in the fields, he wrestled with thoughts of rejection. He despaired at his aged one-armed physique, too distant from her youth and beauty to be a contender for her heart, that the interlude in Melbourne was an aberration, never to be duplicated. Still, he could not reconcile this with the depth of passion he was certain they both found at the height of their intimacy. Surely, what happened between them was real and lasting, except for her hurried retreat at the sight of his helpless trembling in the hotel room. Since his return from Melbourne he had not been visited with another attack. More than seven months had passed, the longest period since his return from the first war. If she knew, perhaps she would be free of her fears. This, too, troubled him. He dreaded what might happen in her fragile state if another episode came on in her presence. He wondered if she would leave. Where would she go? What would become of their child?
As these thoughts tortured his emotions, other questions pushed at his mind. Her well-being mattered more to him than fear of rejection. That she was safe and physically healthy pleased him. He would do anything to make sure no harm came to her again, but he did not know how to penetrate her emotionless shell. Not once had she smiled, nor had she initiated any conversation, other than to respond to his attempts to talk. At times, there was sharpness in her voice, even bitterness that concerned him although he understood why. If intimacy never again opened itself between them, he could accept it, but he wanted to bring her back to the lively woman he met in Melbourne. He cursed the man Rolf who had shattered her confidence. How to give it back to her?
One night he lay in his bed listening to the wind blowing in from the ocean across the fields. He cherished the sound of the leaves rustling outside. In the other room Melissa slept fitfully. He knew she was trying to find a comfortable position to rest her protruding stomach. He could hear her struggle mindful that the time for their baby’s birth neared. After a long while, unable to sleep, he arose and went to the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea. Then he carried it onto the porch, taking an occasional sip. As he looked into the darkness, a measure of contentment overtook him. He had someone in his life. Even if Melissa continued to be emotionally distant, he was not alone and she was safe. His thoughts and actions no longer dwelled solely on himself. He was focused on the needs of another.
He hid his surprise when she came out onto the porch and stood beside him. Neither of them spoke. He lifted his cup in an offer to make some for her. When she shook her head he set the cup down and took her hand. Still silent, he led her back into the cottage to her room. There he coaxed her into bed and slid in beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drew her close and kissed her gently on the forehead. Melissa buried her face in his chest and began to weep. Soon, convulsive sobs wracked her body. Aaron tightened his hold, letting her continue, even encouraging her in the hope that she would be freed, at last, of all that trapped her. Eventually, the crying stopped and she fell asleep. He remained awake, holding her until the sun broke the horizon.
The next day she joined him in the fields for the first time, sitting among the furrows as he worked. Nothing was said about the night before, but she opened up with hopeful talk about their child and what to do if it was a boy or a girl. Aaron let her speak, careful to hide the thrill of her chatter as it lifted his heart. She threw out names, seeking his opinion. Laura came to his mind immediately. If it was a girl it would be a nice name, he thought, but he did not mention it out loud. When the sun reached its apex they walked back to the cottage, hand in hand, to prepare lunch. There was a smile on Melissa’s face, the familiar smile that Aaron had longed to see.
A week later she went into labor. Aaron helped her into the truck and drove into Apollo Bay to the doctor’s small clinic. The doctor cautioned that there could be complications, especially because of Melissa’s ordeal. He sent Aaron away to wait.
“You’ll be summoned.”
Aaron smiled at Melissa’s perspiring face then reluctantly departed for a torturous wait in a restaurant down the street.
A tiny baby boy, weighing slightly less than five pounds, was born at midnight. His heart was strong, but his low birth weight, complicated by jaundice, meant that the child would need to remain at the clinic until his survival could be assured. Of necessity, although she had come through the birth safely, the doctor insisted that Melissa remain to nourish and bond with her infant.
Aaron came to her bedside, relieved as the doctor patted him on the back and told him that if all went well, mother and child could return with him to the farm in two weeks. In the meantime, there was little to do, but watch and wait.
Over the next week he remained in Apollo Bay, unwilling to travel the short distance to the farm lest it take too long to reach Melissa’s side if he was needed. He spent most of each day in her room. At times, he held the baby, curious and interested, but unable to feel the emotional bond that already existed between mother and child.
At the start of the second week, when it became apparent that the child would live, he told Melissa that he must be away for two days to make the cottage ready to bring the child home. As he spoke, he worried that this obscure explanation would be too transparent, but Melissa signaled her understanding, too preoccupied with her baby to sense the lie. Without returning to the farm, he boarded a bus to Melbourne and then a train to Adelaide.
He slept little on the journey. His conversations with Melissa enabled him to paint a picture of Rolf. He was a big man though not so large as Aaron. He was muscular with thick black hair. He had a tattoo of a woman on his right forearm. His pride in the tattoo, as well as his swollen biceps, caused him to roll the sleeves of his shirt high so that all could see. He frequented a pub on Currie Street, most likely still living nearby in the flat he once shared with Melissa. Aaron recalled Melissa’s words.
“His favorite place is Mickey’s.”
After eighteen hours, Aaron disembarked at the Adelaide station and made his way to Currie Street. At four p.m. he entered Mickey’s. He ordered a beer and settled at a table with a view of the door. He could not know if Rolf would come into the pub, but he had faith in Melissa’s description. He waited and watched.
Two hours passed. By six the pub was busy with a dozen patrons. None of those who entered looked like Melissa’s description of Rolf. Aaron began to fear that the wife beater might not show. He had no backup plan. He knew the man lived in the vicinity, but he had been careful to avoid asking Melissa for the address, fearing it might reveal his intent. It was easier to keep her innocent. Rolf frightened her too much.
At seven, when he was beginning to lose hope, he spotted his target through the window on the sidewalk. He sat up, concentrating. Rolf looked exactly as Melissa described right down to the rolled up sleeves and thick black hair. He entered and strode directly to the bar, an easy smile on his face, reflecting his familiarity with the place. The bartender placed a schooner of beer on the counter as Rolf slid onto a stool. Mickey’s pub was his second home.
The time passed swiftly. Aaron raised his empty glass to get the barmaid’s attention. Soon she came to his table with another beer. He took one sip then set the glass down. He needed the prop, but he would drink no more that evening. When Rolf left the pub he would follow.
Three hours later Rolf staggered onto the sidewalk. Aaron paid his bill and followed, keeping a safe distance as the drunken man crookedly walked the route to his flat. When he came to an intersection Aaron quickened his pace, drawing closer. He reached under his long dustcoat, feeling for the iron bar he carried with him from Apollo Bay. Satisfied that it was secure, he leaned in and spoke.
“Rolf?” he queried, making sure one last time.
Rolf turned his head, surprised. Then stopped to face Aaron. “Who wants to know?” he demanded, suspiciously.
“I have a message from Melissa.” Rolf’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t immediately respond. Aaron looked around the empty street. He kept his hand on the iron bar, but he could not risk doing what he intended there in the open. “She wants you to know something.”
Rolf found his voice. “She ran off.” He spat on the concrete at Aaron’s feet. Then he took a step closer and peered into Aaron’s face. “Who are you?” he asked, again. “What do you know of her?”
“She wants to come back to you.”
Rolf considered this for a moment as if gauging Aaron’s true intention. “Someone got her pregnant.”
“I can explain everything in your flat.”
Rolf hesitated for a moment, considering. Then he turned and walked. “Come with me.”
Aaron followed him for another block. Then Rolf turned down an alley and shuffled to a set of wrought iron stairs at its end. At the third floor landing he turned a heavy latch and opened a door leading into a one room flat. Once inside, he crossed to the far side of the room and flipped a switch, illuminating a sparse interior with two chairs pushed under a small table in the center. He pulled at one of the chairs and gestured toward the table, inviting Aaron to join him as he bent down to seat himself.
Aaron ignored the gesture as he securely closed the door. Then he calmly pulled the two-foot long iron bar from his coat. He turned back to face Rolf and quickly made his way to the table. When he raised the heavy weapon Rolf realized what was happening and gave a shout He tried to scramble out of the way but, too late, as the bar came down across his knees. At the ferocity of the blow Rolf’s chair fell back, splaying the howling man on the floor, writhing in pain. The volume of his screams compelled Aaron to place his foot on the stricken man’s throat, pressing down hard. He lifted the bar in threat.
“Be quiet or I will hit you again.”
After a few seconds and with tears of pain streaming down his reddened cheeks, Rolf stopped struggling. Aaron cautiously lifted his foot, knelt down and brought his lips close to the injured man’s ear.
“If you come near Melissa or my child again I will kill you!” Rolf wildly shook his head without speaking. Aaron stood and turned to the door. He spoke again over his shoulder. “Heed my words. I mean what I say.” Then he left the flat and went directly to the central station where he boarded a train back to Melbourne and eventually Apollo Bay.
***
Over the next two years joy returned to the farm at Apollo Bay. With the tireless devotion of his parents, the infant thrived. Ailments that the doctor told them might appear never materialized, no doubt because Melissa held vigil over her baby’s every need while Aaron did the same over her. When the happy child diverged, even slightly, from his pattern of wondrous delight, his mother probed for every reason why and quickly remedied the problem. When she became exhausted tending to his nighttime cries Aaron took the tiny life into his one arm so she could rest. He walked the cottage until dawn, holding the boy to his chest while nuzzling his fragile body. To say that the happy couple sought to spoil their child would be inaccurate. They had simply found new purpose to their lives. They pursued that purpose with their whole being.
During the day Aaron worked the fields with gusto, finding pleasure in every task. Most days, Melissa brought him lunch, carrying a basket in one arm and the child in the other so that the small family could bask together in the sunlight. From the beginning, Melissa could make the baby giggle and coo just by smiling and talking, but Aaron found that only zany acts of animation could bring forth a reaction. However, when he sang his father’s soft songs the little boy showed signs of recognition, distinguishing between mother and father. The loving voice that carried the songs of his own childhood sealed the bond between the new father and his son.
In the fall, the combination of good weather and Aaron’s skill brought in the finest yield ever delivered from the Whitehurst farm. During the month long harvest the truck made non-stop treks from field to holding shed and finally to the re-opened farmstand at Apollo Bay. With this surplus, Aaron was able to buy and trade for things he had never before thought necessary. Clothes for Melissa and his son, new furniture, updated plumbing and modern appliances. In winter, he spent more of the extra money, taking his family on an extravagant trip to Sydney, ostensibly to have the baby examined at its more modern medical facilities, but really to celebrate the joy of being together, happy, safe and whole. They stayed in a fine hotel and ate wherever a baby was welcome, which were most places because Australia revered nothing more than family.
When spring arrived Aaron returned to his beloved fields. Melissa announced that it was time for the cottage to have its own garden of flowers. Each morning she perched the baby in a basket at her side as she tilled the hardened ground. Then she fertilized, planted and watered until miniscule shoots rose from the soil. Aaron took no part in this project. He knew it was her contribution to their home, a creative gesture meant to bring beauty to their surroundings, verifying the family they had become. He liked to watch her though. Profound happiness possessed his heart at the sight of the carefree delight on her face. Often, she lifted her hands filled with rich soil, high in the air above her head, eyes raised to the sky as if making an offering to the Gods. Then she would let the dirt slip between her fingers back to the ground. Whenever she did this the baby giggled, so she did it often. The true measure of her creative efforts burst forth in November when color surrounded the cottage. Magnificent hues of yellow, blue, pink, lavender and red shimmered in the breeze. She made sure the flowers renewed and remained throughout the heat of the summer while Aaron ushered in another bumper crop.
In the midst of all that fostered the family’s good fortune, the unexpected absence of one longstanding challenge made Aaron’s life complete. He still had not been visited by the seizures that had plagued him since Gallipoli. By far, this wonderful reprieve engendered the most contentment. The violent episodes that so often frightened people from his presence, had also, in his advancing age, sapped his strength. Now, free of these debilitating fits, he found the vigor to take on tasks long ago abandoned. He single-handedly built a small barn in which he deposited the truck and most of his tools as well as the choicest fruits and vegetables, held back from the farmstand for his family. He also dug a deeper well, installing the heavy pump on his own. Occasionally, during the summer, he felt the urge to swim as he had done with such enjoyment in his youth. On particularly fine days he packed the truck with food and drove the family down the coast to Aireys Inlet where they picnicked on the beach beneath the Split Point Lighthouse. There, he dove into the cold waters of the Southern Ocean, swimming for hours, unimpeded, despite his lone arm. Melissa, too, beamed with contentment, though she stood at the water’s edge, ba
by in hand, making sure that Aaron did not stray too far into the waves. He was her savior.
The inevitable tragedy that seemed to stalk his life came on a cold gray day in July. Aaron had left Melissa at the farm while he drove into Apollo Bay to run some errands. In secret, he had his eye on a car for her, a red sedan. When he finished taking a test drive he made an offer, retiring to the restaurant down the street while the seller thought it over. Aaron was excited as he made his way to his customary table. Even if the car’s owner wanted more money, he would pay it. The anticipation of Melissa’s surprised delight was too great.
When the waitress came over she casually mentioned, “Your mate was here.” Aaron looked up at the young girl. “He said he knew you from Adelaide. Wanted to know how to get to your place.”
Instantly alarmed, Aaron sought confirmation of his suspicion. “Black hair, sleeves rolled up, tattoo?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“What did you tell him?”
“How to find your farm. Figured you’d want to see him.”
“When did he leave?”
“An hour ago. He walked with a limp.”
Aaron knew it was Rolf. He jumped from his seat and made quickly for the sidewalk, breaking into a run to his truck. As he accelerated away from the curb, he tried to fathom how Rolf found him. He knew from Melissa’s description that her husband was vengeful. Aaron had been careful not to identify himself when they met in Adelaide lest this very thing should happen. He had a limp, she said. Aaron knew his blow had done permanent damage. If Rolf found the farm he feared for the effect it would have on Melissa. All his efforts to placate her anxieties might be lost. He had to head him off. As he pushed the accelerator to the floor, coaxing every last measure of speed from the truck’s engine, he decided that Rolf’s potential to do harm must end. He would fulfill the promise he’d made.
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