About Griffen's Heart

by Tina Shaw

  If I’d just stood up for myself once, I mightn’t be in this predicament, skulking in a late-night café, spying on my brother and his friends.

  I dropped a white marshmallow into the hot chocolate. It sank for a moment then bobbed back up to the surface like a fish eye. I should be at home. That was my main thought right then. I felt like I’d been zapped by a killer jellyfish.

  And what if they saw me here? I would not only be a pathetic loser, I’d be a pathetic weirdo stalker. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more depressed I got. I could see them out there, dark shapes around their little flickering fire, like survivors on a desert island – and I saw myself sitting in that dingy café, all by myself, pathetic and dire, and I knew I had to go home. I wasn’t my brother’s keeper. I wasn’t his dad, either. I had to get out of there.

  Filled with self-disgust, I grabbed my helmet and scraped back my chair.

  But, oh hell, they were coming back up the beach. It would only be a matter of minutes before they’d look up and see me in the café, lit up like a goldfish in a bowl. Quickly, I lurched for the toilets.

  Outside, I could hear them reaching the carpark – their loud voices, boots crunching on gravel, car doors slamming, a bottle smashing, laughter sounding harsh in the night, revving engines.

  The two cars fish-tailed out of the carpark, spitting gravel.

  I hurried back into the café. The woman behind the counter was shaking her head: ‘Bloody hooligans,’ she muttered in my direction, as if I was one of them. Well, I was in a way.

  The cars were speeding away down the road by the time I got outside to my Vespa. I pulled out in time to see their tail lights winking in the distance and disappearing around the bend. I pushed the Vespa up to 100 k. This time, however, they were heading towards Roxy’s place. I knew she had a curfew, and she was half an hour late. It stood to reason they were taking her home.

  Around another bend, and I nearly bumped into them. The two cars had stopped, side by side, and there was some discussion going on between the occupants.

  I pulled over behind a parked car, watching. Finally Brent got out of the other car and hopped into the back of Ryan’s Subaru. Then the other car did a squealing U-ie and took off in the opposite direction.

  14

  The truth is, I’ve got the heart of an old man. Doctor Brad never put it in so few words, but it’s what he might’ve said if he wasn’t so polite. Sometimes I imagined my heart beating away inside my chest, but instead of a shiny young heart like I should have had, I saw a wrinkled-up and hoary old heart. A bit like that rare medical condition where your body ages three times faster than normal. So when you’re eighteen, you look more like you’re fifty. My heart was kind of like that. Only on the outside I still looked young, like a kid, while inside I was like an old man.

  And as I sat on my Vespa in the dark street, I felt as worn-out as an old bloke, too. I felt about a hundred. All I wanted to do was go home and lie down. Maybe watch some of Nightline. But mostly, just sleep – for a very long time. It was a school night, but I couldn’t see myself going to school tomorrow (or was it today already?).

  Then Ryan’s car took off, still heading towards Roxy’s part of town. Well, it was a dilemma all right. Whether to go home – which is what my old man’s heart wanted me to do – or carry on following them to Roxy’s place.

  The thing was, I had a bad feeling about tonight. If I was truthful with myself, I wasn’t following them just because I was worried about Roxy. (She was the one, remember, who said she could look after herself.) No, I just had a bad feeling in general. One of those instinctive, doom-laden feelings.

  So despite my better judgement, and despite my protesting heart, I kept going.

  Ryan was driving more sedately now, as if he didn’t really want to drop Roxy off, so it was easier to follow them. But then at a set of red traffic lights, I hung back, not wanting him to see me in his rear-view mirror. I needn’t have worried. Ryan gunned the car and ran the red light.

  I sat there in disbelief. Didn’t he know how dangerous that was? But then, maybe he had seen me. Maybe he’d known all evening about me following him. At least there wasn’t much traffic around at this time of night. The lights changed to green, and I carried on. They were out of sight now, but it didn’t matter. I could still hear the car roaring through the dark suburban streets, and it was still heading for Roxy’s.

  Okay, I told myself, I’d go have a look – go back in through the reserve – one look, to make sure everything was okay, then I’d get going.

  The reserve, late at night, was a creepy place. It smelt like a toilet and was pitch-black. It was just as well I was wearing a helmet, because branches kept whacking me on the head. Halfway through, I saw the streetlights winking up ahead from Roxy’s street, and that guided me along the last part.

  Even as I parked the Vespa behind the bush, I could hear the shouting. I took my helmet off and peered out. There was a group of people outside the house: Ryan and Roxy, Brent, and Roxy’s father. They were standing on the front lawn and shouting at each other. It was a wonder nobody had called the police. Roxy’s father was jabbing his finger at Ryan’s shoulder. Brent was bouncing up and down like he was in a punk band. Ryan was hunched and pumped. Roxy was off to one side, egging them all on.

  Then Ryan threw a punch. Leo staggered backwards, holding his face. Unbelievable.

  I twitched to run out and stop Ryan, but I didn’t. I stayed put, hoping like hell that would be the end of it. A high sound came from Roxy, and maybe it was a laugh.

  ‘Go on,’ she cried, ‘he’s got it coming – do it!’

  What?

  Brent started throwing punches. Everything was happening really fast. He and Leo were scuffling, locked together. Leo was giving back as good as he got.

  Ryan was on the sidelines, fists bunched. Then he seemed to remember something. He pulled open the car door and reached in. It wasn’t until he raised it in the air that I saw what he had: a baseball bat. He shouted to get Brent’s attention, then chucked him the bat. Brent whacked at Leo’s legs. Leo cried out, wavering, but still standing.

  Then Ryan grabbed the bat off Brent and slammed it down on Leo’s back. The man cried out and crumpled to his knees.

  He was down. I thought they’d stop then. But they didn’t. They were kicking him. Roxy had turned away, hands over her face. It was serious stuff now. Like in the movies, where the guy’s on the ground and is getting the crap kicked out of him. But more real than any movie. Horribly real.

  I’d been paralysed, in shock. Funny little sounds were coming from my mouth – huh, huh, huh– and my heart was banging in my chest. But I had to do something. I had to help …

  As I watched in horror, Ryan bent over the figure on the ground, bunched his fist, then smashed it down.

  Ryan! Oh my God, I had to …

  ‘Stop!’ I stumbled out of the bushes, and into the street. I ran at them. ‘Don’t!’ My voice was high and cracking. Running. ‘Ryan, stop!’ Running across the asphalt, like I hadn’t run for ages, across the grass, my legs pumping, straight for them.

  The whole thing was playing out in slow-mo.

  Roxy glanced up, face streaked with tears and mascara. Kneeling beside Leo, Ryan looked up with a face as empty as a wild animal’s. Brent was aiming a kick at Leo’s back. Leo was curled up like a grub, around his head a dark stain.

  Oh God – blood. There was blood.

  ‘Stop it!’ I screamed, crashing into the bewildered group.

  A light came on somewhere behind me. A distant siren wailed. Help – we needed help.

  I fell on my knees beside Leo. Please God, let him still be breathing. I expected blows to rain down on me as well, and I hunched myself over Leo to protect him. But nothing happened.

  There were running footsteps. Noises. Shouts.

  I was close enough to Leo to feel his breath hot and muggy on my cheek. His face was shiny with blood. His eyes flickered open, showing the whites. I coul
d feel him shuddering. There was something sticky under my hand. I really hoped it wasn’t blood.

  But something else was happening: I seemed to be drowning. My chest was dull and heavy, like I was trying to breathe underwater.

  Like Ryan had hit me with the bat after all. No, something else.

  So hard … to breathe. Lights flashing across my eyes.

  I fell forward beside Leo, my chest heaving. Huh, huh, huh. Somebody made a gurgling noise. It might’ve been Roxy. Or it might’ve been me. A grey haze: a feeling of doom.

  Then everything went black.

  15

  So this is what it’s like to die … Hmm, interesting. Floating somewhere, feeling weightless, like I’m an astronaut in flight. But of course I feel weightless; I’m dead. Zilch. Zero. So it’s finally happened. My heart must’ve conked out after all. Maybe I just died on the footpath outside Roxy’s. I hope Doctor Brad isn’t too disappointed. I bet he was looking forward to doing a little valve surgery. But maybe now he’ll get together with my mum. He’ll comfort her, because she’ll be so sad about me being dead, and eventually he’ll move in and they’ll play Happy Families. Though he’s got his work cut out with Ryan. Anyway, that topic is boring. Let’s see, where I am … heaven maybe? Limbo? The big film production house in the sky? Hmm, everything’s white. Yup, I’m definitely dead. Wait, what’s that down there? Oh God, that’s gross – is that what I think it is? A body with its chest cut open. People in white gowns, wearing gloves. Blood everywhere. My God, that’s horrible … though actually, kind of interesting at the same time. And what’s that guy got in his hand? It looks like a peeled aubergine wrapped in blood. A piece of offal? That’s disgusting. No wait, it looks like a heart. Yep. They’re doing something to a heart in that guy’s chest. Shame it’s not me. My heart needs fixing up. Well, needed fixing, past tense. I won’t need anything now, not wherever I’m going. And where exactly am I? It’s like a room, except there are no walls, if that makes sense. And wait, what’s that smell? Hmm, hamburger … I’m dead but I’m drooling? Now that really doesn’t make sense. Hey partner, git on over here with that little pony, I mean, burger. I could eat a horse. No, take that back (there might be horses up here, and I don’t want to offend anyone in this death place, and especially not horses, which are very nice creatures); but I could really do with a hamburger …

  The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Ajax. He was leaning against the wall over by the windows, eating a hamburger. Man, that guy was really chowing down. I’d never seen him eat like that before. In two more seconds there wouldn’t be a shred left. He was eating so fast I thought he’d asphyxiate himself.

  ‘Uurk,’ I groaned. I didn’t know what had happened to me, but it obviously had something to do with my vocal chords.

  Ajax looked up guiltily. Ha, caught in the act.

  Then he faded out. I had to concentrate. It was like I was still in the dream, except I could smell the hamburger.

  The edges of Ajax got clear again. I raised my hand to signal him over to the bed. It felt really heavy, but at least it was still working. Ajax took an uncertain step forward. I pointed a trembling finger at the hamburger, then at me.

  He looked at what was left of the burger he was holding, then he looked at me – was he acting dumb, or something? or maybe he just didn’t want to share – then a big grin broke out on his face.

  ‘Dude!’ he exclaimed, as if I’d just told him I’d won Lotto.

  Just then somebody crashed into the room. Maybe this really was a dream. I turned my head on the pillow and saw my mother looming over Ajax. It looked like she was boxing his ears. ‘What are you doing with food in here, young man?’ It was surreal, like watching sci-fi. ‘You’ll contaminate him.’

  ‘It’s just a burger, Mrs G., it’s not catching. Besides, James … ’

  But she was hustling him out of the room like I was in danger of catching the bubonic plague.

  ‘But Mrs G., he wanted to eat my burger!’

  Both of them stopped. My mother grinned down at me. ‘Really? He did?’ she said in the soppy voice usually reserved for her baby patients.

  Actually, maybe I was still dead, because people were acting very strangely around here. But the moment evaporated, and my mother hustled Ajax and his hamburger out of my room. Damn. And I was starving. That was one missed opportunity.

  Mum came around and sat beside the bed. ‘How are you feeling, James?’

  Hungry. ‘Uhk-kry.’

  She gave me her soppy smile. ‘Hey, it’s good to see you again, mate.’

  And what did she mean by that? She sees me every day. Actually, several times a day. Then tears were squeezing out of her eyes, and she turned away to wipe her face. When she looked back she had that bright manic look on her face that says, I am not going to cry!

  ‘It was touch and go there for a while,’ she continued.

  I tried to work my face into a querying expression, but it was too hard to focus. Her face was melting and her hair looked like a halo.

  ‘But Brad will tell you all about that later,’ my mother sighed, patting my hand. ‘You get some sleep now.’

  And I must have gone to sleep then – dropping into it like a rock chucked into a pond – because I didn’t remember anything else.

  When I next woke up it was night and there was a nurse doing something over in the corner of my room. It looked like she’d caught a little pony and was tethering it to the lamp. Was I still in la-la land? There was a metronome beating as well. Why would they have a metronome in my room? Then I saw the nurse was just drawing the curtains. She turned round and smiled then she came over and started tidying my bed.

  ‘And how are you feeling, James Griffen?’ she asked.

  I didn’t say anything because I could tell she wasn’t real, and I didn’t want to get sucked into talking to a hologram. Besides, I felt like crap, and there was a hairy doormat in my mouth in place of a tongue. The last thing I felt like doing was talking.

  The nurse carried on chatting while she patted and smoothed. Then she was talking about somebody I knew. ‘Doctor Brad is so handsome,’ she was saying, ‘he rides an antelope to work every day …’

  Uh-ha. Her face loomed into my sight-line.

  ‘He’s coming along in a minute to see you, James, we wanted to leave you as long as possible, but we’re all very happy to see you again …’

  Ah, that made more sense. But what did she mean by happy to see me again? Suddenly it seemed I was Mr Popular. I had an image of people waving and smiling as I walked in and out of big airy rooms.

  The next time I swam back into consciousness, I knew exactly where I was. I was hooked up to an intravenous drip and the heart monitor was beeping quietly beside my bed. Doctor Brad was checking the chart, just like they do on medical dramas. Had I died and woken up on the set of Shortland Street?

  Doctor Brad picked up my wrist and checked my pulse, looking down at me the whole time as if I’d developed something curious on my forehead. For my part, I could see right up his nose, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. Then finally he sat down in a chair beside the bed.

  ‘How are you feeling, James?’ he asked.

  I wished someone would ask something more original. ‘Okay,’ I croaked, ‘I guess.’ And in fact, aside from the feeling that I’d just swum through the ocean for a month, I didn’t feel too bad. ‘What happened?’

  ‘You’ve had your heart operation, James,’ he said, watching me closely.

  And how had that happened without me knowing about it?

  Doctor Brad gave a cautious smile, as if having a little inner debate with himself as to how much to tell me. ‘Yes, open-heart surgery. We’ve given you a new valve. You’ll feel a bit groggy for a while; we’ve got you on some pretty strong drugs at the moment. But we’ll soon have you feeling right as rain.’

  Okay, so he was going for the minimalist approach when it came to information. Doctor Brad was getting ready to leave.

  ‘The nurse is
just going to top up your morphine to help you sleep.’

  ‘But I don’t want to …’ I meant to say the word ‘sleep’ – there was so much I wanted to know! This was no time for sleeping – but the lights were already going out.

  The story turned out to be a little more complicated than Doctor Brad had initially let on. Yes, I had had open-heart surgery. Yes, I’d got my nice new valve after all. But before that happened, I’d had a heart attack, trying to save Roxy’s father. They rushed me to hospital, pumped me with morphine, and got me stabilised. Then they cut my chest open. And then I died – on the operating table.

  How corny was that?

  It all came flooding back to me. Well, the part about Leo, at any rate. The shouting, Ryan hitting him, Leo on the ground, me running. Running, huh! The rest of it was pretty much a blur.

  ‘What was Ajax doing here?’ I was pressing the open/close button on my Discman, which Mum had just brought in, trying to decide whether I felt like listening to a CD.

  ‘Well,’ she said slowly, ‘straight after the operation we weren’t sure if you would be all right or not, so I called Ajax in. In case he wanted to say goodbye …’

  That was a sobering thought. The fire came back into my mother’s eye. ‘And then that young man had the temerity to start eating a hamburger in here!’

  I cracked a smile at her outrage. ‘I guess he got hungry,’ I said, cheering up. ‘Probably would’ve done the same myself.’

  ‘No doubt,’ she said, crossing her legs (and for somebody’s mum, she actually had pretty good legs). She’d brought some books, too, and a bunch of grapes. You’d think a nurse of all people would be able to avoid hospital clichés. ‘I just can’t believe what a close call you’ve had, young man. You are incredibly lucky to be alive!’