by John Kelly
Inside O'Reilly's Irish Pub, at the corner of Richmond Road and North Avenue in East Melbourne, Jill Toogoods was waiting for her brother Barry Capper. Outside the weather was near perfect; a typical Melbourne Autumn day. Jill would have preferred to sit at one of the tables outside on the footpath, but they were all taken up with office workers enjoying their lunch break. The passing traffic and its associated noise level was constant; cars, trams and cyclists. As she sat looking out the window, a taxi pulled up outside, and Barry Capper emerged from the front passenger seat. Barry paid the driver and made his way around the patrons to where his sister Jill was waiting inside. With a gentle peck on the cheek for her, he sat down.
"That taxi driver who bought me here has a wonderful appreciation for classical music," he said to Jill. Barry had just enjoyed listening to Dame Joan Sutherland sing Verdi's Gualtier Malde?caro nome, from Rigoletto, Now sufficiently relaxed from the tensions of the morning, he was on course for an even more relaxing lunch.
"Taxi driver, classical music! Isn't that a contradiction in terms?" Jill asked. "A bit off the norm I would say, but there you are. How is everything? Get you a drink?" he asked. Jill nodded. "Yes please, a gin and tonic." As Barry went for drinks at the bar, Jill pondered how she would approach the nature of the problem she wanted to discuss with her brother. Minutes later she was sipping her gin and tonic, with Barry drawing on a light ale.
"How's Father?" she asked. "He's fine. He asks after you a lot. Why don't you call him sometime?" Barry enquired.
"Don't know. Just too busy I guess," she replied. An uneasy silence passed before Barry took up the baton. "How's Frank?" he asked, referring to Jill's husband. "All right I suppose. He's away for a few days on business." She answered with a vacant expression, that left little doubt in Barry's mind, that all was not all right.
"What's up Jilly. You haven't asked me to lunch to chat about nothing. What's the problem?" he asked.
"What would happen if I left Frank?" she asked out of the blue. "Bloody hell, what do you mean?" he replied.
"Simple enough. What would happen? Financially, I mean," she said. "Where is all this coming from?" Barry asked. "I thought you two were fine. Are you serious?" Jill's eyes began to betray her emotions as tears rose to the surface. "No, we're not fine," she said as she took a sip of gin. "We haven't been fine for ages. It's all an exterior display, for our friends, family and so on. What would happen if we split up? How would our assets be worked out?" Barry leaned back on his chair, no longer relaxed but needing some support to carry the mental weight of his sister's extraordinary revelation. "Well, there's no children so it would be a simple fifty-fifty split, I would imagine. There's the house. You are both employees, so I suppose your respective superannuation balances would have to be taken into account. Bank accounts, furniture, that sort of thing. There wouldn't be any need for arbitration if you were to both agree on disbursement."
"Arbitration?" Jill asked.
"If you both agree on a property settlement, there would be no need to bring in lawyers," he answered. "What has gone wrong?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know. We just drifted apart. He spends so much time away. We are both career bound. Can we order something? A sandwich would be fine. I don't feel like much else."
As Barry went to the snack bar, Jill contemplated telling him the other part of the story; the real reason why she wanted to leave her husband. When he returned with pre-wrapped sandwiches, he posed the question, "Have you thought about where you would live? What if Frank doesn't want to sell the house, and chooses to pay you out instead?"
"I'll find somewhere to live for the time being until?." she said before hesitating. "Until what?" Barry asked, his mouth full, but chewing temporarily suspended.
"Until Warwick and I move in together," she answered.
Barry swallowed his mouthful of sandwich with a thud.
While Jill Toogods and her brother Barry continued their lunch break, Julian Knowles was engaged in his taxi, taking an elderly lady home with her shopping. His last job was dropping a businessman off at O'Reilly's Irish pub in East Melbourne, and he was working his way home for a short break before starting his afternoon runs with his clients from Elm Tree Cottages. His mind was preoccupied with the events of the previous evening. He wondered if there was anything in the evangelical movement that would be of benefit to Maria Stewart. Singing joyful songs and happy clapping was one thing but this healing ritual was something else entirely. From his own limited observations, it seemed that it was more a matter of one mind exerting its influence over, even dominating another, with no tangible benefit to the afflicted, save an expectation of a cure. Such an influence, Julian thought, could be used for good or evil, depending on the parties involved. This, to Julian, did not seem to be a healthy partnership.
"Turn left at the next street please driver," the lady said. "Okay," Julian replied. As he turned left, he realized he was in Gracedale Street in Mitcham, the same street he had taken the young woman who had been attacked; the lady he saw subsequently at the prayer meeting. 'What was her name again? Michelle, that's right.'
"Number forty two please driver," his passenger said and Julian pulled into the driveway. "Seven dollars fifty please," he said.
"Would you mind helping me with the groceries? I have a bad back and I struggle with them. If you could just leave them on the veranda, she said as she handed him ten dollars. "Keep the change," she said.
"Sure," Julian replied and proceeded to take the groceries from the car to the veranda. Directly across the road, he saw the house where he had taken Michelle. Parked outside was a late model, dark blue, Ford Falcon. He stopped momentarily, and stared across, as if caught in some sort of trance. Michelle had somehow captured a part of him that was rarely seen. There was a charismatic attraction, simply felt but difficult to define. It was curiosity blended with mystery, and perhaps a touch of the romantic.
"Do you know the lady across the road?" he asked his passenger.
"Not very well," she replied. "I've spoken to her now and then. She keeps to herself, although she does have a gentleman calling regularly. That's his car there now; none of my business. Do you know her?" she asked. "No not really," Julian replied. "I picked her up once that's all." The passenger's groceries were now stacked neatly on her veranda and Julian returned to the car. He checked the time and realized he had a half hour to spare before the afternoon runs began.
It was Julian's custom to take a short break each afternoon before commencing the afternoon return run to Elm Tree Cottages. If he was close to home, then that's where he would go. On other occasions when time did not permit going home, he simply bought a cup of coffee, and enjoyed a quiet moment, reading or having an early afternoon nap. As he was close to home on this occasion, he decided a short break was in order, before he began the run. When he arrived home there was a strange car in the driveway. 'Annette must have a visitor,' he thought. She did!
He entered through the front door, almost tripping over Foofo, and walked down the hallway.
"Julian, come into the family room, I'd like you to meet Margaret," Annette said as she welcomed him. Immediately Julian walked into the room, he saw the overweight lady from the prayer meeting, sitting on the couch.
"Hello I'm Margaret," she said with a big cheesy smile.
"Hello," Julian replied. "I remember! You were at the prayer meeting the other night," Julian added. "Yes I was. Did you enjoy it?" she asked.
"Hmm, not sure if enjoy is the right word. It was certainly interesting, and different." Julian answered.
"Oh Darling, I forgot. There was a message on the answering machine. The hospital rang. They want you to call them back. Something about Maria Stewart," Annette said.
A deep pain passed from Julian's heart to his stomach. He had visited Maria everyday since the accident. Each time she was the same. Lying there, motionless, alive but lifeless. He was dreading such a call. Maria's doctor had told him on his visit the previous day that she could contin
ue in her present condition indefinitely; or she could wake up; or she could simply die. It was impossible to know which way things would go.
"How long ago?" he asked. "I'm not sure, we only arrived here half an hour ago. I was out for two hours." Julian picked up the phone. His hands were trembling. "Ward six please," he asked of the receptionist who answered. As the seconds ticked by Julian's heart rate increased dramatically. "Ward six, Nurse James speaking. Can I help you?"
"Yes, er my name is Julian Knowles. Someone rang here with a message about a patient, Maria Stewart."
"Oh yes Mr. Knowles. I'll just check and see if you can speak to her." Julian's reflexes were lightning fast. "Speak to her! You mean she's alive?er I mean she's conscious?"
"Yes Mr. Knowles. She woke up this morning, as if nothing happened," Nurse James replied. "The doctor is still with her. I'll just check and see if she can talk to you." Julian was ecstatic. He turned to Annette and Margaret and shouted, "She's awake. She's awake."
"Oh praise the Lord," Annette cried out as she took Margaret's hand. "Praise you Jesus," Margaret exclaimed. "How wonderful is the Lord."
"Mr. Knowles, are you there?" Nurse James asked.
"Yes, yes." He answered.
"The doctor said she cannot come to the phone but has suggested you come by this evening to see her."
"Oh, fantastic. That's great. That's terrific. I will. I will. Would you tell her I called and I'll come by tonight?"
"I'll let her know." Nurse James replied. As he hung up Julian glanced at his watch. Time to go. "Great news isn't it?' he said to the two ladies in front of him, his whole person, body and spirit now transformed, elated and completely oblivious to Annette and Margaret's more than friendly embrace of each other. "I'm off to pick up the family," he said referring to his intellectually disabled clients.
As he left the house, Annette and Margaret looked each other in the eyes and kissed. "We did it," Margaret said. "No. Jesus did it!" Annette said. "We were just his agents. Jesus did it! He healed her! Praise Jesus."
Julian skipped his way down the front steps to the car. Suddenly his day had been transformed from the ordinary to the special, all from one simple phone call. As he made his way along Doncaster Road, he turned left into Turner Street and fumbled for a tape to play on his tape deck. Without looking at the tape, he slipped it into the deck. Seconds later, he was listening to Giulio Caccini's beautiful rendition of 'Ave Maria,' sung by Inessa Galante. The poignancy of the moment struck him deeply as he made the connection between the song and the healing of Maria Stewart. 'Perhaps there is something to this healing thing after all?' he thought. Five minutes later he drove through the gates of Eastern Adult Development, (EAD) where Loretta and Rowland were waiting to be picked up and taken home.
"She's awake," he called out to Joanne Kirby who stood at the main entrance, carefully guarding her charges. "Maria woke up."
"Yes we know," Joanne answered. "They called from Elm Tree this morning. Isn't it wonderful?" she added just as Loretta, her bag in hand, took a sideswipe at Rowland, connecting with the shoulder. "Oops, lets get these two settled before we have a war on our hands."
Rowland was happy to retreat to the relative safety of the back seat, while Joanne ushered Loretta into the front seat. "I'll pop in to see her tonight," Julian said. "I just hope she can forgive me for causing her so much trouble."
With two clients secured, Julian left EAD, and headed for his next pick up at Walter Adult Support (WAS), a distance of some two kilometres. As they drove through the shopping centre, Rowland removed his shoes and, as was his custom, threw them out the window, this time in full view of a police patrol car trailing behind. As Julian heard the siren, and saw the flashing red and blue lights behind, he knew exactly what had happened. He pulled over to give Rowland a sharp word. Rowland however was impervious to such admonitions. Fully aware of his transgressions, which he no doubt regarded as achievements, he sat there his eyes glued on Julian, taking in Julian's entire stern rebuke and responding at the end with a wicked grin and a scratch of the head.
"Good afternoon driver," the officer said as he arrived at the driver's side door. "Were you aware that one of your passengers discharged one or more objects from the vehicle whilst it was in motion?"
"Yes officer. I'm sorry. I wasn't in a position to stop him." Julian said.
"Can I see your driver's license and your Taxi driver's certificate please?" As Julian complied, the officer then addressed himself to the occupant in the back seat. Taken by surprise at what he saw, he said, "Oh?Oh I see, having a little playtime at your expense was he?"
"Yes I'm afraid so. I'm sorry about the shoes. I'll go back and get them," Julian said, as he passed his license and certificate across. "No need," said the officer, "my partner is retrieving them." The officer perused the papers Julian had given him, and then looked at him more closely as if he recognized him. Julian suddenly recognized the officer too. He was one of the police who attended the scene of the accident at Shoppingtown.
"Julian Knowles. Hmm, you were involved in an accident a week or so ago at Shoppingtown weren't you?"
"Yes I was," Julian answered. "Hmm, you're a lucky man. The woman who has been in a coma woke up today. It seems she is going to be okay."
"Yes, I know. I found out about an hour ago. I'm going to see her tonight. She's a friend of mine. She supervises these two at Elm Tree Cottages," Julian said pointing to his passengers, and relieved in some way that he was able to make what he thought was a sympathetic connection with Maria Stewart.
"Well, you will still most likely be charged with reckless driving, but that's not nearly as bad as it could have been," he said, handing Julian back his documents. The second officer then tapped on the front passenger side window, holding a pair of track shoes in his hand. "Anyway," the first officer said, "I won't add to your problems just now. I suggest you secure the gentleman in the centre seat of the rear, and make sure you have his seat belt fastened. That might act as a deterrent. And I suggest you keep the rear window wound up when he's in the car. Okay, you can go."
With great relief, Julian accepted the shoes from the second officer and thanked them both. He drove off quickly, not wanting the police officers to notice anything out of order with his cab; like the coat hanger substitute for a radio aerial, or the tiny crack in the front windscreen, both items for which an infringement notice could be issued. Enough already! Julian continued on his run, arriving a few minutes later at WAS where he picked up Richard and Daphne.
"P-p-play A-a-a-B-B-A," Richard said as he was eased into the back seat. "Yes, yes, yes, all right," Julian replied a little agitated as he pushed Rowland into the middle of the back seat to accommodate Daphne. "What about a bit of Luciano instead?" he suggested. "P-p-play Lu-lu-luciano," cried Richard. "What a great idea," Julian answered, and with the musical programming settled, the journey back to Elm Tree Cottages was underway.
Fifteen minutes later, at journey's end and climaxed by Pavarotti's magnificent rendition of 'Nessum Dorma', the taxi pulled into the Elm Tree Cottages car park at Unit 49. Rowland made his usual lightning fast exit from the car realizing he was home again and Julian helped Richard out of the back seat.
"Did you have a good day today?" Julian asked as he took Richard in arm and guided him to the front entrance of the unit. "Y-y-yes," Richard replied. "What did you do today?" Julian asked. Several seconds elapsed as Richard absorbed the question and set his mind to answer. Finally it came, "S-s-w-i-m-m-ing," he said. "S-s-song and d-d-ance," he blurted out. "Swimming, Song and dance," Julian exclaimed. "And what did you do, sing or dance in the pool or both?" Richard again took the customary fifteen to twenty seconds to absorb yet another challenging task and eventually found voice, "S-s-w-i-m-m-ing, t-th-e-n D-d-dance," he replied. "What sort of dance did you do? Was it foxtrot or rock 'n roll?" Julian asked.
As they arrived at the front door to Richard's unit, he had absorbed the question and was ready to deliver the answer. "H-h-hok-key
P-pok-k-ey," he replied with a feeling of satisfaction and with an enormous smile that transformed his entire face. Julian could not help himself and burst out laughing. The image of Richard following the prompts and rendering anything remotely similar to a hokey-pokey was just too much. "That's terrific. Perhaps you could demonstrate it for me one day," Julian replied. Greeted at the door by a staff member, Julian handed Richard over and said, "See you tomorrow." Richard took several seconds to construct his reply and as Julian headed back to the car to safely deliver his remaining charges, Richard stammered out, "d-d-e-mon-st-rate f-for J-julian," as the door closed behind him.
21.
