The Road Back

by Di Morrissey

  ‘I wasn’t sure how long it would take you to drive down, so I thought I’d just get some quiche and salad made up for us. Something easy and quick. I hope you don’t mind,’ said Lorraine, as she poured their coffee from a shining chrome pot. ‘It’s good to hear that you’re thinking of learning another language, Susan. Mark has business dealings with Indonesia on occasion and he says there’s not much point sitting around the negotiating table if you’re the only one in the room who doesn’t understand what’s really being said. Language is the key to understanding people, culture and friendship, don’t you think?’ Lorraine passed around some crusty fresh bread.

  Susan nodded, taking a piece of bread and spooning some salad onto her plate. ‘Yes, I agree. We all found speaking the language made a huge difference to connecting with people. Being there to help and working from the heart are important, but from a practical point of view, knowing the language is essential. Without that knowledge I am sure we would not have been able to form the wonderful bonds we did with the local people.’

  Chris cocked his head to one side. He had always thought he knew his mother inside out, but recently she had begun to surprise him, and he could glimpse the young woman she’d been all those years ago.

  Later that afternoon, the two of them met Norma for coffee in a café in the Sydney CBD. They were seated at a table beside a window when Norma walked in. Chris knew immediately who it was, though he wasn’t sure how.

  ‘That’s her, isn’t it?’ he whispered to his mother.

  Susan nodded, turned, smiled and gave Norma a short wave.

  Norma was a solidly built woman with short faded red hair abundantly flecked with grey. She looked efficient and businesslike.

  In her usual affectionate manner, Susan rose, reached out and embraced Norma, and although Norma looked slightly taken aback, she returned the hug.

  ‘Norma, it’s been so long! I can’t believe that we’re actually meeting up after all this time. This is my son, Chris, who cleverly tracked you down.’

  Chris stood and shook Norma’s hand. ‘It’s such a pleasure. I’m so grateful you could come. We’ve been looking forward to this meeting.’

  ‘I went to the last reunion hoping that you would be there, but of course you weren’t,’ said Susan, retaking her seat. ‘I was disappointed, but that was silly of me. After all, it was the first reunion I had ever been to, so I could hardly expect everyone else to go just for my benefit.’ Susan smiled. ‘Still, it was lovely to catch up with the others. They have done such interesting things with their lives – which is what gave Chris the idea of writing a book about them. Listen to me! I’m just chattering on because I’m so happy to see you. Please, Norma, tell me what you’ve been up to these past forty-five years,’ said Susan, her face beaming with delight as she talked with her old friend.

  Norma relaxed. ‘No, Susan, you first. You tell me all about your life.’

  The three of them quickly ordered coffees as Susan told Norma about becoming a teacher, marrying and moving to Neverend, and staying there to raise a family and eventually becoming part of the town’s fabric.

  ‘I know that my life doesn’t sound all that exciting, especially compared with the lives the boys have led, but it’s been a very happy life and I’ve no complaints.’

  ‘After your adventures in Indonesia, perhaps living in a quiet country town was the life that best suited you,’ said Norma, gently.

  Susan smiled gratefully at Norma and then said, ‘What about you, Norma? I was so intrigued to learn you went back to Indonesia and that you married. When did all that happen?’

  Norma paused, looking down at her coffee. ‘When my contract was up and I came home from Indonesia, I worked here in Australia, first as a midwife and then teaching midwifery. I moved around a bit, but to my surprise I never felt really fulfilled. I thought that working with like-minded people in clean, well-run hospitals with up-to-date equipment was what I wanted, especially after the difficulties we had working in Indonesia. But eventually I realised that it wasn’t. While the work was in many ways satisfying, I found that it wasn’t challenging enough. I knew that there were literally hundreds, even thousands of women in Australia who could perform my job as well as I could, but I knew that in Indonesia that simply wasn’t the case. Then out of the blue I heard about an opportunity to join a team establishing a birth centre and postnatal clinic in Bogor, of all places, so I went back.’

  ‘Good heavens,’ said Susan. ‘That is simply amazing. I have to say that out of the six of us, you are the one I thought least likely to go back to Indonesia. So how did the clinic go?’

  ‘Very well. The centre was very successful. The death rate amongst newborn babies plummeted in Bogor and so the model was adopted by other towns in the region. I began to train women to be midwives, and they took their skills back to their own communities. It was a very productive period of my life.’

  ‘I bet it was,’ said Chris, thinking what an extraordinary woman Norma was.

  ‘Norma, that sounds wonderful,’ said Susan, genuinely delighted at the success of her old friend. ‘I think I was startled initially when Chris found out that you’d gone back to Indonesia, but I do remember how committed you were to the mothers and babies you worked with, so I guess your decision to return is not all that surprising after all. And tell me, when did you get married, and who did you marry?’

  Norma paused while she took a sip of her coffee, as though trying to gather her thoughts.

  ‘My husband’s name was Anwar Marzuki,’ she said in a low voice. ‘He was an Indonesian doctor at the Bogor hospital. You would never have met him, Susan; he started work in the hospital quite some time after you had left Indonesia. He was such a fine man and he was an excellent doctor, very committed to raising health standards in Bogor. I admired him greatly.’

  ‘He sounds very dedicated,’ said Susan.

  ‘He was,’ replied Norma. ‘Unfortunately, our marriage didn’t work out.’

  ‘Cross-cultural marriages are difficult, I imagine,’ said Susan, tactfully.

  ‘Yes,’ said Norma, frowning slightly. ‘His family were devout Muslims, although Anwar himself was not quite so religious. I didn’t want to adopt his religion and this led to friction with his family. To escape it, we eventually decided to come to Australia, but after a couple of years Anwar decided that living the good life in Melbourne was doing his own country a disservice and so he returned and we divorced.’

  ‘Have you been back to the Bogor area since then?’ asked Susan.

  ‘No. If truth be told, I never expected to stay in Bogor as long as I did, but after Anwar and I divorced, I decided that that part of my life was over and it was time to move on.’

  ‘But I bet you never lost your passion for your work. Good on you,’ said Susan with a grin.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ said Norma, the corners of her mouth lifting. ‘I used my experiences in Bogor to help NGOs set up similar clinics through other parts of South East Asia and the Pacific. I’m here in Sydney for a few days because I’m supervising a student’s PhD on the Indonesian family planning programme that was aimed at promoting a two-children-only policy.’

  ‘Was that successful?’ asked Susan.

  ‘Yes, in some ways. But it was also extremely intrusive and often came close to forcing contraception on women.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘All part of the authoritarian social engineering by Suharto’s New Order. Women were dumbed down to be no more than adjuncts of the militarised and patrimonial state he built. Thank heavens they don’t have that programme anymore,’ she said, her eyes hard. ‘I’m also on a couple of working panels over the next week, to discuss what improvements can be made to the current working model of postnatal care in emerging nations.’

  ‘That’s fantastic! You must have phenomenal energy,’ said Susan, draining her cup. ‘I’d kill for another coffee. Anybody else?’

 
All three of them ordered more coffee and Chris quickly took the opportunity to ask Norma some questions.

  ‘From the work you’re involved in, I guess you think that we should be paying more attention to our neighbours in this Asian Century,’ he said.

  Norma nodded. ‘I think that if we don’t engage and exchange more ideas, especially on a friendly basis, we will miss a great opportunity,’ she said. ‘While it is true that Australia is a Western-style country, sometimes we forget that we are located in southern Asia. This country looks north to Europe and the USA and in doing so skips over one of the rising world powers. Indonesia will be one of the biggest world economies by 2020.’

  ‘Hard to believe, considering the way it was when we were there,’ sighed Susan.

  ‘Norma, can I ask you what your opinion was of the men who were in the Neighbourhood Aid programme with you? I have to tell you that anything you say is in the strictest confidence. I just want to get a feel for the men I’m writing about,’ said Chris.

  ‘Chris, your mother was a very good friend to me,’ said Norma. ‘I don’t know if she ever told you, but I was very sick for quite some time when we were in Java. I thought I would have to return to Australia, but your mother nursed me and cooked for me and made sure that I got better. We hadn’t known each other very long and yet she was more than happy to put herself out for me. I owe her. So if you are sure that my name will never be attached to any comments I make, I will tell you what I knew about these men and the work that they did. Have I your word that my privacy will be respected?’ She raised her chin and looked him straight in the eye.

  Chris felt a tingling sensation. It was the sense he sometimes felt right before a story cracked wide open. Perhaps Norma was the key after all. He returned her gaze and said, ‘Absolutely, Norma. If you like, I’ll send you anything I write before it’s published so that you can make sure.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Norma,’ said Susan. ‘Chris will keep his word.’

  Norma nodded her head. She paused, waiting for the waiter to serve their coffees, then took a sip before starting to speak.

  ‘Well, of course, I couldn’t fault Evan and his work. He was so young and had barely qualified, but he had a gift for medicine. I expect that was partly because he came from a medical family, but it was something more than that, too. He had a knack for creating extraordinary relationships with his patients. It’s hard to explain, but he was able to radiate such confidence they sometimes seemed to want to get better just to please him. I remember him telling me that he used to be frustrated when people came to him convinced that they had been cursed and would likely die. Yet his quiet assurance often seemed to have the desired effect on his patients and they survived whatever spell had been placed on them.’

  Norma looked at Chris and smiled.

  ‘I see that you think that they would have recovered anyway, but that was not always true, was it, Susan?’

  ‘No,’ said Susan. ‘Sometimes belief in the supernatural can be very strong.’

  ‘I didn’t know the others quite as well as I knew Evan,’ said Norma. ‘From what I could see, David loved being out and about with his farmers, helping them improve the yields of their crops. He was always enthusiastic about his work and as I remember he had a great sense of humour, sometimes at my expense,’ she added.

  Susan laughed. ‘He still has that sense of humour and I’m sure he meant no harm when he directed his wit towards you.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Chris. ‘We’ve seen quite a bit of David lately and he’s still travelling the world, helping raise crop yields in poorer countries.’

  ‘Good for him. I remember Mark quite well too. I felt he could have been the odd one out, coming from such a wealthy family, but he fitted in well and quickly gained the respect of Bogor’s small traders. He wasn’t easily frightened, either.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ asked Susan, frowning.

  ‘Even after all the trouble at the Tans’, he wouldn’t move out. He continued to live with them. Said that if they had to stay in their house, then he would too.’

  Susan was silent for a few moments, then she said, ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘No reason you should,’ said Norma. ‘You’d gone home by then, which was the right thing to do. You suffered a terrible experience. That’s why I’ve been so pleased to hear that your subsequent life has been so happy.’

  The three of them sat for a while, saying nothing, drinking their coffees in silence, each deep in thought.

  Then Norma spoke. ‘I used to see quite a bit of the Tans, after I went back.’

  Chris glanced at her. The way she said this seemed to hint at something.

  ‘Goodness,’ said Susan. ‘How were they?’

  ‘Old Mrs Tan had died, but Mr Tan remembered me. One of his daughters was running the family business because he had no sons, and we became quite good friends. She was a very good businesswoman.’

  Quietly Susan asked, ‘Did they ever mention Jimmy?’

  ‘Yes, of course, Jimmy . . .’ She stopped talking as she and Susan looked away, both clearly remembering the terrible event of Jimmy’s murder.

  ‘Those protests,’ said Susan, softly.

  ‘Rabble rousers using those riots as a cover.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Chris.

  ‘The people who killed Jimmy weren’t taking part in a political protest, they were using the chaos of that night to target the Chinese. It was common knowledge that most Chinese hoarded their money, mostly in gold. They didn’t trust the banks,’ Norma explained.

  Susan sighed. ‘Yes. Jimmy died because the Tans were raided and Jimmy got in the way of a robbery. It was tragic.’

  Norma opened her mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, and took a sip of coffee instead.

  ‘Mum told me you lived at the hospital, is that right, Norma? She said it was only Mark who lived with the Tans, so why did you go and see the Tans when you returned to Bogor?’ asked Chris.

  Norma looked down at her coffee. ‘The Tans were old friends of Anwar’s and his family, so we used to visit them on occasion. I got to know them well. Anwar had a lot of other friends in Bogor, friends who over time told him stories about the night Jimmy died.’ She took a breath and looked at Susan. ‘It turns out that events weren’t quite the way we had accepted them at the time.’

  For a moment there was complete silence around the table. Then Susan spoke.

  ‘Norma, will you tell me what you know? It might have been a long time ago, but I still want to find out what really happened that night.’

  Norma held up a hand. ‘All right, Susan, I’ll tell what I’ve learned about his death. But it won’t be easy for you to hear.’ Norma paused and Susan looked at Chris and then back at Norma and nodded. ‘For starters,’ Norma began, ‘you probably didn’t know that when Jimmy came up from Jakarta that weekend to see you, he told Mr Tan he was going to propose to you. He showed him a picture of a ring and asked him if he could copy it. He knew Mr Tan was a good goldsmith.’

  Susan made a small sound and her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I never knew,’ she whispered.

  But Norma continued talking, obviously keen to tell Susan everything now she’d started.

  ‘Anwar had some friends who were businessmen. I think they liked to be seen with Anwar because he was so admired in Bogor. They probably felt that his status rubbed off on them. One day we were having lunch with a couple of them and something came up about the six of us and the work we’d done in ’68. I mentioned Alan Carmichael to them and said that I thought he was now a rich businessman. They were very impressed. Then one of them said, “Mr Carmichael a very good friend to Indonesia. He try very hard to get rid of bad Chinese, communist Chinese.” We all knew that Alan hated the Chinese and used to tell us that Indonesia would be better off without them. Then the other man said that Alan had actively w
orked on getting the Chinese out of Bogor. I had no idea what he meant, so I didn’t say anything.’

  Chris glanced across to his mother. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Norma’s face and he realised that neither woman was aware of his presence, so intent were they on Norma’s story and remembering back to all those years before.

  Norma continued, ‘I was puzzled about the comments from these men, so I later asked Anwar if he understood what they were talking about. Anwar said that he would make some inquiries to find out. A few days later he came back and told me what he had discovered. I found it quite shocking. Alan had made no secret of his dislike for the Chinese, but what Anwar discovered was that when Alan was in Bogor, he was actually involved in pursuing them.’

  ‘But how could he do that? Surely we, someone, would have noticed?’ Susan asked, her voice filled with horror.

  Norma shifted in her seat and then drank from the glass of water that had been put in front of her, gathering her thoughts. ‘As you know, there were gangs that intimidated the Chinese. Remember that day at the markets, when Mark and you and I saw them extorting money from the Chinese traders there? Well, evidently some of the manual labourers who worked for Alan were members of those gangs and he actually encouraged them in taking this sort of action against any of the Chinese.’

  Chris simply stared at Norma. ‘What sort of people were they that Alan was involved with?’ he finally asked.

  ‘Chris, it was a time of madness. It was like a fuse had been lit and there was no stopping the explosion that would follow. There was sporadic but unpredictable chaos, and it could be quite indiscriminate. Anyone could be denounced as a communist and killed. So many people were frightened that they might be singled out, quite erroneously, that they often turned in other members of their own family to save themselves. And there were gangs that took part in these killings with impunity. Sometimes they were complete strangers to the victims. Sometimes they all dressed in black carrying swords, sometimes they wore camouflage outfits and carried guns; it varied. But they all hated communists and thought of themselves as patriots, and that the killings were justified. Thousands of innocent people were victims of these gangs. But the Chinese were the biggest target for the anti-communist riots, and as they often had money and valuables in their homes, the gangs particularly went after them,’ Norma explained.