“Does your phone have reception here?”
“No,” she replies.
She’s not so talkative as she was.
“How are you feeling?” I ask still holding and looking at her hand.
“My head hurts, and my hand hurts so much,” she says weakly.
I put her hand back in her lap. “Give me my phone,” I say holding out my hand. She lifts her head and is about to speak, but she reaches into her pocket with her good hand and pulls out my phone.
“Who knows how far I’ll have to walk until I have phone reception, I’ll call for an ambulance when I can,” I say.
“It’s not that far back to the house, you should be able to get reception soon,” she says faintly.
I stand up, and she looks at my bloody ankle, not at my eyes. “If you think it’s a red-belly you should be okay, just let it bleed.”
I look at her; her forehead glistens with beads of sweat and her body quivers.
“You’re going to be fine,” I say again.
“I’m sorry,” I hear a whisper as I start dragging my foot behind me down the track. I don’t turn back.
I hold my phone up in front of my eyes as I walk, so I do not miss the reception signal bars appearing. At least this takes my mind off the pain pulsating in my foot.
There it is, finally the bars in the corner of my phone lift up. I punch the numbers into the keypad of my phone.
000 Emergency. What is your emergency?
I need an ambulance.
I am connecting you now.
Ambulance emergency. Hello, caller, what’s the emergency?
We were walking in the Blue Mountains; a snake has bitten my hiking partner. I didn’t see the snake, but she thinks it may have been a red-belly.
Is the patient conscious?
She was when I was with her a moment ago.
What is your location?
I don’t know; we are in the middle of the bush, I think we may be near Jumpy Falls. Are you able to locate us using GPS?
Yes, I have established your location via satellite. We will send paramedics on the ground and a helicopter depending on the condition of the patient and if the chopper can land close to your location. What is your name?
Zody Swabler.
What is the patient’s name?
Helena Hoath.
Zody, can you please go back to Helena and stay with her until paramedics arrive but do call if you need help before they reach you.
Thank you.
I hang up the call with the operator and pocket my phone. I look east and west and think which way to walk. I should go back to Helena as the Emergency operator told me to even though there’s nothing else I can do to help her now. I don’t possess medicine that can heal her. The moment I’d seen Helena’s bitten hand, I had reacted mechanically and not considered that I shouldn’t help, or that I should just walk away, leaving her to bleed out or let venom poison her, whatever came first.
Now, finding myself standing on a dusty trail a few hours from nightfall my moral duty of calling for help done, I wonder if I should take what could or could not be a short walk back to that house or go to suffering snake-bitten Helena who was either conscious or unconscious. The choice is mine, but back at the house I suspect those crazed folks are still inside and I can just imagine them jumping on me the moment I step in the door. I choose to drag my aching leg back to where she is suffering. I hold my breath as I approach the clearing from where I can see her hunched shoulders; she is still sitting upright, a good sign. She lifts her head weakly, her red hair drenched in sweat, despite the air cooling somewhat in the last half an hour. The change in temperature is a concern I have pushed aside.
“The paramedics are on their way, let’s hope we won’t be here together once it becomes dark,” I say while looking for a place to sit which is nowhere near her.
Before I lower myself to sit down on my isolated rock, I check the space around the rock for snakes. Once I have positioned my ankle so it causes the least pain I look into the dry dirt around me avoiding eye contact. The dusty ground around my feet is scattered with brown gumnuts. I pick up one of these woody fruits and roll it around between my thumb and middle finger. I listen to Helena moan.
I put the gumnut next to my foot where the blood from my ankle has dripped down the side of my shoe and made a long streak to meet the sole.
“One,” I say loudly, firmly and purposefully. I collect another gumnut and place it at the side of my foot.
“Two.”
I hear movement from across the path. I take my eyes from my gumnuts and watch as Helena struggles to lift her sweaty head from her knees. She turns her head slowly in my direction.
“Zody,” she begins.
“Three,” I say, looking away from her.
“Don’t tell Archer, please?” she begs.
“Four,” I continue.
“If Archer finds out what I did to you. I will lose Marla.”
“Five.” I stop counting the gumnuts to arrange them in a neat circle.
“I will be telling Archer that you drugged me and how you planned to ruin my career. You should experience what it is like to build a business from the ground up and then have it stolen by another person. You have had the support from your husband; there was no struggle for you.” I rearrange my gumnuts so that they form a neat line.
“It doesn’t look like you are struggling when you’re taking photos of weddings in New York or taking selfies in changing rooms. Are you really surprised that I want to live your life?” Helena says.
“You only see what you want to see; if you’re so interested in looking at other people’s lives you need to open your eyes wider.” I run my hand over the top of the gumnuts and feel them poke into my skin.
“Six,” Helena counts.
“Seven.”
“Eight.”
“Nine.”
PART THREE
Zody
I’ve got this; I swing one crutch forward, put my weight on it, and swing the second crutch out in front of crutch number one. Today is the first time I have moved around my apartment so slowly, so mindfully, I hate that it takes me twice as long to accomplish the simplest of tasks. I feel the annoyed voice in my head telling me to move faster, Zody, finish those little jobs otherwise you will fail at everything. But the ordeal in the forest has taught me a shred of patience, who knew what wonders a walk in the bush could do. What sensations running away from danger produce or how waiting for an ambulance to arrive with a person that wants to inhibit your life teaches you tolerance. During the five hours I spent in hospital yesterday the doctor told me a number of times (he caught me trying to walk without the crutches, twice) that I have a hairline crack in my ankle, and that the crack will get bigger if I put too much pressure on that foot. Once he was sure I understood, there was to be no walking without crutches. I would need them for three weeks! So I sat in the hospital bed, rested my leg, and told myself that photographing a wedding while on crutches is definitely possible.
It took a walk down the hospital hallway to realise crutches were my enemy, prompting me to make a phone call to Renee, the only photographer I can trust to take over my bookings for the next three weeks.
I lean the crutch against the wall next to my sofa and balance by holding the armrest. Once I have both crutches in position, I hop to the front of the sofa and lower my backside down. I stretch my bandaged leg out in front of me on the coffee table next to the photo book ‘Highway Motels’; my black painted nail sticks out from the bandage and looks cheap and tacky.
My phone buzzes with a message. I’m so happy for a phone that you can carry everywhere, but mainly I’m glad to have my phone back with me, courtesy of the snake. I read the message.
Hi Zody,
I am thrilled that you agreed to be to be part of the exhibition. The staff here at the gallery have been following you for a few years on social media and we were waiting for the right moment to present your work in one of our exhibitions. I would like
to update you with the specific Event details; the opening of the exhibition is today at 5 pm. We had ten of the photos printed overnight, and they are being framed today and mounted this afternoon. I know it has been set up fast, we don’t muck around here at the gallery!
P.S sorry to hear about your crook leg, we would love to see you at the opening tonight, you being there on crutches will only add to the raw theme of the exhibition.
Talk soon.
Candice
Paizale Gallery
I hit ‘Reply’ to write how thrilled I am that ‘my’ photos will be in the exhibition when the doorbell buzzes. Arghh the struggle. I wish I could shout out to whoever is there just to come in, but I lock the door for security reasons, obviously.
My arse is sticking up in the air, I use my sofa to lean on until I’m holding my crutches. I secure them under my armpits and swing, hobble, and jump towards the front door. I lose my balance as I pass next to my computer and yell “coming” in case the person at the door thinks that nobody is home.
I am sweaty when I reach the door. All I am wearing is a stretched stripy singlet, shorts, and my bandage. In case I have uncovered a body part since I left the lounge, I straighten the singlet, peep through the hole and turn the lock.
“Archer,” I say.
“Hey, Zody, sorry for calling unannounced but yesterday when we ran into each other at the hospital, and you told me you had to talk to me, I couldn’t wait until our arranged lunch meeting tomorrow. I know what building you lived in but not your unit number, so luckily when I arrived downstairs an older lady told me where to find you.” Archer pulls his hand in and out of his jean pants pockets ten times before he finishes speaking. Clearly he’s nervous.
I shift my weight from one crutch to the other.
“Sorry, it must be difficult for you to stand,” he says looking down at my bandaged foot.
“Stop apologising, Archer, and come inside,” I say laughing while performing a 360 degree turn on my crutches. That’s what I needed to get the hang of these: an audience.
Archer walks behind me as I make my way to the lounge. I sit down following the same steps I performed earlier and stretch my leg out on the coffee table in front of me. I should have painted that nail when I had the chance.
“I’m not able to offer you a drink unless you would like to take it out of the fridge yourself, there’s a beer in there,” I say and gesture towards the kitchen.
“I drank a coffee at the hospital,” he says.
I look past Archer’s shoulder towards the midday sunlight. Known as the worst time for taking photos and also known as the time when people are busy at work, those that don’t watch lousy TV shows. I don’t want to watch TV; I want to be working.
Archer finds my trailing off eyes and brings them back to his.
“I was thinking how unusual it is for me to be doing nothing,” I say.
Archer raises his eyebrow.
“Ummm nothing,” he repeats.
My turn to apologise. “Sorry,” I say.
“You didn’t tell me yesterday how it happened,” Archer says nodding towards my leg.
“How long do you have, to listen?” I ask.
“I’ve taken the day off work, Marla’s at day-care and as you know Helena is in hospital, she will want me next to her soon,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“If you have time, I’m going to order food; I’m hungry. I’ll use Uber eats to deliver it. Veggie Pad Thai for me and Beef Chilli Jam for you,” I say as I open the search browser on my phone. Archer looks at me bewildered, probably at my lack of focus. I need someone to help me focus.
“Things happen fast around here; I have a small problem with the idea of diminishing time,” I admit. There, that wasn’t that hard to do. “Now listen, Archer, I will tell you this story without wasting too much time, let’s see if I finish the story before the food arrives,” I say pressing ‘Confirm’ on the food order.
I’m hoping that Archer will still be here when I’m finished telling him the story about his wife.
“Archer, I was there with Helena in the bush, I’m not sure if Helena shared that information with you, I thought maybe the doctors at the hospital might have told you she was with someone.”
“The nurse did say that a lady phoned in to report the bite, they didn’t tell me a name though; did you come across her by coincidence?”
I shake my head.
“I was suspicious as soon as I was told of the location where Helena was rescued. We have a holiday rental house in the Mountains, so I immediately started to question what Helena was doing there. She lied to me and told me she was photographing a wedding, but I didn’t think anyone would be getting married there. Our rental house, which is slightly eerie in itself, is near a mental hospital that was closed years ago, you know,” Archer explains.
“That’s creepy; I’m relieved I didn’t walk in the direction of the asylum. But tell me why the fuck do you have a rental house next to a mental hospital?” I ask.
“Helena lived there when she was a kid; her dad was a patient at the hospital,” Archer reveals.
“Hereditary?” I ask.
Archer shrugs. “Tell me what Helena did to you,” Archer prompts.
I exhale before I begin to speak. “Helena tied me up on two occasions,” I say. I can hear a heart pounding, but I’m not sure if it’s Archer’s or mine.
“Would you like me to continue?” I ask when I see Archer’s face turn white.
He nods.
“The most recent entrapment happened there in your rental house in the mountains as you know. Previously it had happened the day I ran into you on the street. I went to your house because she said she found threatening emails addressed to me on your computer; I was curious and worried. She drugged me and tied me up because she thought we were having an affair, you and me.” I finish speaking to give Archer a chance to respond. He takes out his phone and scrolls through his messages.
“So you didn’t text me to tell me that you got locked out of your house and needed me to meet you at my house?” he asks, eyes firmly fixed on the phone.
“No.” I lean closer and touch Archer’s warm trembling hand which is still holding the phone. “I know it is a lot to take in. I was going to call the police both times after it happened but something was stopping me, and don’t judge me for saying this, but I wanted to get my revenge on Helena, I didn’t believe the police would make her suffer like I thought I could. Now I know, looking back, it is you who I should have told after the first time it happened.”
“You should have reported it to the police, Zody. Or at least come to me as soon as it happened, the fact that you didn’t tell anyone makes you as crazy as she is,” Archer says. I feel his hand stop trembling and tense up, but he doesn’t move it from under mine. We sit in silence, holding hands.
“Archer, if you know she’s mentally unstable why haven’t you left her? You can’t wait for an opportunity for her to prove it to you, you already know her skewed state of mind is a fact, do something about it.”
“It’s not always easy to leave,” he says.
“Looks like she tied up both of us, emotionally and physically. What I have learned about Helena in just the last few days, is that she seems harmless and harmful at the same time, that is most likely why I looked after her when I saw she was bitten by the snake,” I say.
“You are right about her coming across both bad and good, but no, Zody, you didn’t look after her because you were confused, you looked after her because you are a good person, it’s what I tell myself every day. I am a good guy, and I will stay to take care of my wife and daughter. She isn’t a bad mother either, Zody, she loves Marla, and I used to think she loved me…” Archer drifts off.
“I don’t think Helena appreciates you are looking after her, Archer; she thinks she can take care of herself if she sets up the right foundations for herself, even if that means stealing my photography work,” I say.
The door buzzes and for
a split second Archer looks disappointed. “I’ll get that,” he says, slipping his hand out from under mine, his gaze focused on me as he stands up and walks towards the door. I imagine for a moment that he is leaving and I stop myself calling out to stop him.
My thoughts alone aren’t powerful enough to get him to stay, he is leaving.
He puts the plastic bags holding the food on the table in front of me. “Would you like me to bring you a glass of water before I go?” he asks.
“No water, thank you, but don’t go, Archer,” I say. “I still have a lot to tell you, and you have your Chilli Jam to eat. It’s nice and hot.”
“Yes it is. I will show myself out,” he says sadly.
I watch him leave. I pick up his Beef Chilli Jam and begin eating.
Helena
“He is still really naughty,” a lady’s voice says from behind the curtain in the hospital bed next to mine. “He is getting better since we got the new puppy but he still bites through the cords and occasionally human skin.” The one-sided conversation drones on. I wonder if the lady is in the hospital because her dog bit her. Maybe this hospital room is for patients that have suffered a bite.
With my good hand I turn up the volume on the TV that hangs above me so I don’t hear the woman talking. The TV show is a documentary about dogs, I turn it up even louder, take the white hospital blanket off my legs, and swing my feet onto the cold floor. I put too much pressure on one ankle and remember that a snake bite wasn’t my only injury.
Where is Archer?
Putting weight on my good foot, I move along the side of the bed holding onto the bed rail. The white hospital gown only reaches above my knees so I am forced to look at my bulky legs and watch my feet as they alternate; it’s going to be a long walk to the cafeteria, where Archer said he was going some time ago. I hold my bandaged hand to my breast as I hobble along.
Being bitten by a snake and then saved by the person who I have been trying to destroy is clearly an indication of my second chance at life. All I want now is to be with Archer and Marla; I want us all to make a solid effort to be a happy family. Archer is so good to me – he had rushed to the hospital and was waiting for me when I arrived. How had I not seen his love for me? Of course, Zody is in the way of my happiness again. There is a chance that she will tell Archer about how I tried to ruin her career. But I will deny the stories she makes up. Would Archer believe his own wife or a slutty photographer?
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