by Emily Forbes
The skate park was three hundred metres south of the tower, overlooking the beach. Ryder slung the kit bag over his shoulder and set out. The boys kept pace with him as he ran along the promenade.
The skate park was large with several different areas catering for differing levels of abilities. There were grommets on scooters and boards in the gentler areas but no one was skating in the bowl. Ryder looked over the edge and saw several boarders clustered around a prostrate figure on the ground. He stepped over the lip and down into the bowl.
The skate park was baking in the sun. The concrete bowl soaked up the heat and there was no shade to offer any protection. The blue-painted concrete was hot under his bare feet but he knew from experience that he wouldn’t notice in a minute.
He slid the first-aid kit from his shoulder and squatted down beside the injured teenager. His eyes were closed. His face was ashen and a sheen of sweat coated his skin.
‘What’s his name?’
‘Connor.’
‘Connor, can you hear me? My name’s Ryder, I’m a lifeguard, come to check you out.’
Connor opened his eyes. Ryder thought his pupils were a little sluggish to react to the light and the left one appeared slightly more dilated. But at least he was conscious.
Ryder surveyed their surroundings. A skateboard lay by Connor’s side but Ryder couldn’t see any protective equipment. ‘Was he wearing a helmet?’ he asked.
‘No.’
He held back a sigh, wondering when these kids would learn. He’d seen the tricks they attempted, he’d seen how hard they fell and he’d seen the injuries they’d sustained and he knew they’d seen them too. But so many of them still seemed to think they were invincible. The delusions of youth, he thought. If he had a dollar for every young boy who needed help on the beach or in the skate park he’d be a rich man. Ryder wasn’t sure if it was due to a lack of concentration, a lack of judgement, a lack of awareness of the consequences of their actions or just an increased attraction to risky activities, or all of them, but it was almost always the boys getting into strife.
He focussed on his patient. Connor had a suspected head injury and an obvious fracture of his left lower leg. His foot was at an awkward angle and Ryder knew he would be in immense pain. He wouldn’t be climbing out of the bowl. But before he could be moved Ryder needed to check for any additional injuries, especially spinal. He radioed for the tower to request an ambulance and started his assessment while he waited for back-up.
‘Other than your leg, does it hurt anywhere else?’
‘My head.’ Connor’s voice was faint and Ryder suspected the pain was making him feel sick.
‘Can you tell me what day it is?’
‘Saturday?’
It was Wednesday. After school.
‘Are you allergic to anything?’ Ryder asked while he checked Connor’s wrist and neck, looking for any allergy alerts. He wasn’t convinced he could take Connor’s word for it given his condition but there was no sign of any medic alert necklace or bracelet or anything to indicate he had a pre-existing medical condition.
He opened his kit bag and prepared some pain relief. Getting Connor out of the skate bowl was going to hurt.
He handed him the little green inhaler. ‘Breathe through the inhaler, mate. That’ll settle the pain a bit before we get you out of here.’
Six or seven breaths would effectively kickstart the pain relief and make it possible to move him without causing too much more discomfort. By the time Gibbo and Dutchy arrived with the spinal board Ryder had satisfied himself that Connor hadn’t sustained a spinal injury and the pain relief had begun to work.
‘The ambos are on the way,’ Dutchy said as he slid down into the bowl.
Ryder nodded in response before giving them a summary of Connor’s history. ‘We need to splint his leg, stabilise his neck as a precaution and get him out of the bowl and into the shade,’ he said in conclusion.
He spoke to Connor. ‘How are you feeling now, mate? Is that whistle doing the trick?’
Connor grinned and stuck up one thumb. The pain relief was having the desired effect but Ryder knew the move would still be uncomfortable.
‘Good stuff. We’re going to stabilise you and carry you out of here ready for the ambos. It’ll probably hurt a bit. Just keep hold of that whistle and suck on it when you need to.’
The green whistle was good for about half an hour of pain relief, which would be enough to cover Connor until the paramedics arrived and could give him something stronger if needed.
Ryder and Dutchy wrapped a cervical collar around Connor’s neck before sliding a splint made of thick cardboard onto the boy’s leg. Ryder added some padding, filling in the gaps, before taping it in position. Once Connor’s injuries were suitably protected, they rolled him while Gibbo positioned the stretcher. They secured Connor on the stretcher and lifted him gently. Ryder could hear the sirens of the approaching ambulance as the three lifeguards hoisted their patient carefully out of the bowl. They carried him over the hot pavement to a shady spot where the ambos would have access and laid him on the ground.
The ambulance pulled to a stop beside them. The siren was silenced, although the lights continued to flash. Ryder recognised Alex as he climbed out of the ambulance and went to open the rear doors. Poppy climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked towards Ryder.
He couldn’t help but notice how good she looked. The uniforms were not usually flattering but hers looked as though it had been custom fitted. Her pants were belted, showing off her narrow waist, and the fabric hugged her hips and thighs and drew his attention to the curve of her bottom. The normally unbecoming uniform did nothing to hide Poppy’s sensational figure.
‘Hey, what have we got?’ she asked as she squatted beside him.
Ryder redirected his gaze and his mind and returned his focus to their patient. ‘This is Connor, fifteen-year-old male, who came off second best in a battle with the bowl. He has a fractured left lower leg and he’s a bit confused. He wasn’t wearing a helmet so he’s likely concussed and may possibly have a head injury.’
He was still in a lot of pain, gripping tightly to the green whistle.
Poppy nodded before speaking to Connor. ‘Hi, Connor. I’m Poppy, a paramedic. I’m going to have a look at you and then I reckon we’ll go for a ride to the hospital.’
‘Can you close your eyes for me, Connor? Keep them closed,’ she said as he followed her instructions, ‘I’ll open them for you, one at a time, okay?’
Poppy took a small torch from one of her many pockets and pointed it at Connor’s cheek. She lifted one of his eyelids and flicked the torchlight over his eye, watching for a reaction, before repeating the test on the other eye.
She then repeated the tests Ryder had done for a possible spinal injury and once she agreed with his assessment and cleared him of anything serious they transferred him to the ambulance stretcher, still taking care to support his head.
‘Do you want to change the splint on his leg?’ Ryder asked.
Poppy shook her head. ‘No. That seems secure and stable enough. It will just cause more discomfort if we change it. Bondi General is only a few minutes’ drive away.’
Ryder watched as Poppy inserted a cannula into the back of Connor’s hand, ready for more pain relief if needed, and slipped an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth to help with shock.
‘Has his family been notified?’ she asked as she and Alex raised the stretcher up on its legs.
‘Not yet. I’ll speak to his mates and sort that out. I’ll get someone to meet him at the hospital.’
Poppy nodded as she loaded Connor into the back of the ambulance. She climbed into the driver’s seat and Ryder watched as she drove away.
He returned to work but having seen Poppy he now found it harder than ever to keep his thoughts on track. He smiled. Maybe he was still more like t
hose teenage boys than he wanted to admit. Lacking concentration and easily distracted. He didn’t want to think he was attracted to risky activities but what else could he call being fixated on another man’s girlfriend? He didn’t need his degree in psychology to know it was a mistake. This was a situation that was never going to end well for him.
* * *
Poppy threw her sandwich wrapper in the bin and checked her watch. She and Alex were taking a late meal break on Campbell Parade but she had time to duck across to the tower. She knew the lifeguards liked to hear updates on their patients but she also knew it wasn’t absolutely necessary and she was using Connor’s accident as an excuse to see Ryder.
She knocked on the door.
The lifeguard who opened the door was halfway through pulling his shirt on but even though his face was obscured she knew it was Ryder. She was trained to be observant and after the other day she’d recognise his naked chest and ripped abdominal muscles anywhere. The image was permanently imprinted on her brain. She let go of her disappointment as his shirt covered up her view.
‘Hey.’ He smiled at her and her stomach fluttered.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I was just grabbing something to eat across the road and thought I’d update you on Connor.’
‘Any dramas?’
Poppy shook her head. ‘Not really. He was lucky. He had a simple fracture of his left tib and fib, as you know, but they also picked up a hairline fracture of his skull. Nothing that he won’t make a full recovery from, though, so that’s a plus.’
Ryder grinned and said, ‘Maybe next time he’ll wear a helmet.’
‘Maybe. But even if he does you and I both know there will be plenty more just like him. Plenty of kids who take risks. We see it every day.’
‘I know. The invincibility of youth. But I don’t suppose we can blame them really—we weren’t so different. You were pretty wild.’ Ryder laughed.
‘I blame Jet.’ She smiled. ‘And you were a part of it, too.’
Life in the commune on the outskirts of Byron Bay had been largely unsupervised. The adults in the commune had professed not to believe in structured learning, firm discipline or strict supervision, and Poppy and Jet along with a band of mischievous childhood friends, including Ryder, had spent their time running wild in the bush, jumping off the rocks into the ocean with their surfboards and generally creating chaos.
Poppy’s mother had worked in the general store and had dabbled in natural therapies and healing and her father had run a surf school, but while he had taught the children to surf they had mostly been left to their own devices and, to all intents and purposes, had virtually raised themselves. She hadn’t minded as a teenager but as she’d matured she’d wondered if her parents’ way of raising a family had been the best. She’d known they’d thought they were free from social norms but she actually would have liked some more attention and had probably needed a few more boundaries.
Lily had been the voice of reason, the one Poppy hadn’t wanted to disappoint, the one she’d looked up to, who’d set an example for the rest of them. She often wondered where she would be today if she hadn’t had Lily’s sensible, calming influence. ‘I’m not sure that my childhood should be held up as an example of what is desirable,’ she said.
She had been in the thick of things but she hadn’t really been a huge risk-taker. She’d only joined in because Ryder had been part of the group. Jumping into the ocean to go surfing had been no hardship, she would have walked over hot coals for him.
‘Maybe not, but I think you turned out okay.’
He smiled and she felt the old, familiar sense of connection. The one she had only ever felt with him. It was strange that after almost a dozen years she still had the sense that they were close. The sense that he knew her, that he truly understood her.
He was leaning against the doorjamb, close enough to touch. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to slide her hand under his shirt and place her palm over his heart. She wanted to feel his skin under hers.
She clenched her hand into a fist at her side to stop herself from doing anything unwise. Maybe they could still be friends but she knew she couldn’t hope for anything more.
To her right she saw Bluey jogging up the stairs from the beach. As Ryder moved to give him room to enter the tower, he stepped towards her and she caught her breath as his movement brought him even further into her space. His leg brushed against her hip and she waited for him to move away once Bluey had passed by, but he stayed in the doorway, connected to her.
She could smell him now. He smelt like the ocean, salty and warm, and she realised he must have been into the sea since she’d seen him earlier in the afternoon.
She inhaled his scent as she tilted her head and looked up into his blue eyes.
He was watching her, his gaze intense.
All she had to do was reach for him.
She wanted to pull his head towards hers, pull his mouth to hers, press her lips against his and kiss him again. Like she’d done twelve years before.
But she couldn’t.
Those days were gone.
They could only be friends.
She knew once upon a time she’d wanted more but they had both moved on.
She took a step back, a half-step really, just enough to break their physical connection, enough to break the spell he seemed to have cast over her, enough to let her breathe again.
‘Have you got plans for tonight?’ he asked. ‘Do you want to grab a bite to eat?’
Her heart leapt before she remembered that she did have plans. Disappointment flooded through her. ‘I can’t. Daisy and I are going to see a movie at the Italian film festival.’ Foreign films were Daisy’s favourite, the subtitles made them the perfect choice for her. Poppy wondered briefly if he’d like to come with them but she didn’t want to extend the invitation without checking with Daisy first.
‘How about some time over the weekend, then?’
She shook her head. ‘That’s no good either. Craig is coming to town, we’re looking at properties to rent.’ As was her way, if she wasn’t working, she had filled any gaps in her schedule with other activities. She liked to be busy and with Craig coming to Sydney as well she had no spare time. But she hoped he wouldn’t think she was avoiding him. She wanted to make sure they kept or rekindled their friendship. He was still important to her. ‘Can I take a rain check?’
* * *
Poppy and Daisy lay on their surfboards and let Backpackers’ Rip carry them out past the breaking waves. The rip might create problems for unsuspecting swimmers and cause no end of headaches for the Bondi lifeguards but for the surfers it acted as a highway, carrying them out to sea and letting them save their energy. Using the power of the water meant there was no need to paddle hard to get out the back.
The Carlson siblings had surfed all their lives. Growing up in Byron Bay and having a father who was a surf instructor and ex-professional surfer had meant they had been put on boards almost the moment they could stand. Poppy hadn’t surfed for almost a year, since the last time she’d been to Bondi. She hadn’t even brought her board down with her on this trip but had borrowed one from Lily.
Lily hadn’t used her board for months either and had declined to come with them today. Poppy was enjoying surfing with Daisy but next time she’d insist that Lily come too. There was no better way to free your mind than to paddle out into the ocean, thinking only about what the water was doing, about the next wave. The freedom of riding a wave into shore was exhilarating and Poppy was pretty sure Lily could use some time to clear her head. It was like riding a bike—she wouldn’t have lost her skills, she just needed to commit the time.
Poppy needed to clear her mind too. She was irritated and she knew the ocean would help to calm her down. She had spent hours over the past couple of weeks looking at potential rental properties in anticipation of Craig’s visit. She had
lined up three properties to view only to find out—when she’d called him to check his flight details—that he’d cancelled his trip to Sydney for the weekend as he was snowed under at work.
Subsequently, she’d cancelled the appointments to view two of the potential rentals in Surry Hills, which was Craig’s preferred suburb. She wasn’t prepared to waste her time looking at properties she didn’t want to live in. She justified the cancellations by telling herself that Craig was fussy and the rental property market was competitive. She knew the agent would want to meet both of them and that the properties were likely to be snapped up before Craig got to Sydney.
Poppy wanted to live near Bondi—she was the one who would be coming and going in the dark. She wanted to be close to work and near the beach, whereas Craig wanted to be closer to the city. He didn’t want to tackle the rush-hour commute but given that he usually worked from eight in the morning until six she figured he’d miss the heaviest traffic. She’d gone alone to look at the one property she’d earmarked in Bondi but it was small and gloomy, a bit depressing really, and she’d reluctantly crossed it off her list.
Now, as she sat on her board out beyond the break, waiting for her turn on a wave, she tried to quash her irritation at Craig and her wasted afternoon. She wasn’t annoyed about not seeing Craig but she was annoyed by the inconvenience and the time she’d wasted. What sort of person did that make her? That she wasn’t upset about not seeing her boyfriend? What was wrong with her?
She knew exactly what was wrong.
Ryder.
She couldn’t get him out of her head.
She wasn’t missing Craig and she wasn’t desperate to see him, they didn’t have that sort of relationship. She didn’t depend on him emotionally and she knew he didn’t depend on her. Which was how she liked it. She didn’t want to rely on Craig for love and affection. She could get hurt that way.