The Things We Promise

by J. C. Burke

  ‘Hello, girl,’ he whispered. ‘I’m Vincent.’

  He held out a hand. Pale, almost see-through, fingers long and thin. I had another one of those random thoughts: Hansel and Gretel sticking a chicken bone out of the cage instead of their fingers so that the witch would think they still weren’t fat enough to eat.

  I must’ve been staring because he said it again, ‘Hello, girl,’ and stretched his hand out further towards me.

  ‘Oh, hello.’ His fingers were cold to touch. ‘I’m Gemma.’

  ‘Don’t worry about him.’ Now the patient across the room was speaking. ‘He doesn’t know who he is. He’s Vincent today. Yesterday he was Randolph.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Vincent, or whatever his name was, was smiling at me as though he hadn’t heard a thing that the other man had just said about him. Above his bed I discovered his true identity: Maurice Goldsworthy.

  I went up to Mum and put my arms around her because I needed to feel her close to me. She kissed me on the head. ‘You okay?’ she whispered. ‘We’ll wait till Billy’s settled, then we’ll go home. It’s been a long day.’

  I nodded. I was trying to be Polly Positive but Maurice Goldsworthy was freaking me out. His hands were out in front of him, his fingers climbing the air like he was playing ‘Incy Wincy Spider’.

  ‘Is this your first time at 9 South West?’ the man across the room asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Mum answered. She had to duck her head to see him because he was hidden behind vases of flowers. ‘I’m Maryanne and this is Gemma. My son Billy’s behind the curtains.’

  ‘They’re good up here. Your boy’s in good hands,’ he told us. ‘I’m Brian, by the way. I’m a haemophiliac.’ He pointed to the neat bed next to him that looked as though it hadn’t even been slept in. ‘That’s Zane’s. He’s probably in the TV room watching MacGyver.’

  ‘Have you been here long?’ Mum asked Brian.

  ‘This admission about two weeks. My last time was about six weeks.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘It’s my eighth time in 9 South West,’ he told us. ‘I’m running out of lives.’

  The curtain around Billy’s bed opened and I tried to paste Polly Positive’s face over the top of however I was looking now, which after hearing that, wasn’t positive at all.

  Two nurses were on either side of Billy’s bed. One fiddled with a tap on the wall that must’ve delivered the oxygen, while the other was wrapping a bandage around the drip in his arm. I noticed this guy wasn’t wearing gloves.

  ‘I’ll make you up some mouthwash,’ said the nurse, whose nametag read Anna. ‘You have to be vigilant about using it or you’ll end up only being able to eat mush.’

  ‘My mouth has been a bit sore.’

  ‘The thrush will get worse if you’re not on to it, Bill.’

  Thrush? I’d had that before but not in my mouth. For a second, I was scared I’d spoken that thought out loud because the nurse looked at me and said, ‘Thrush, or candida, is a really common symptom of AIDS. It starts in the mouth but if you don’t get on top of it it’ll spread all the way down to the gut.’

  I nodded like a stunned mute. I was done talking for the day.

  On the way home in the taxi, Mum described what my face looked like when Mrs C took the apricot jumper with the lace collar out of the bag. ‘I have never seen you pull that expression before.’ Mum could barely get the words out, she was giggling so much. ‘It was priceless.’

  ‘I know.’ Now I was laughing too. ‘I nearly died when I saw it.’

  Soon Mum and I were sliding across the back seat of the cab, squealing and shrieking like it was the funniest thing that had ever happened. But in less than a minute, the laughter had disappeared and Mum and I were clinging on to each other, crying.

  The driver probably thought we’d gone mad. And in a way we had.

  15

  THE NEXT DAY I WAS BACK AT THE HOSPITAL wearing my 501s, Docs and a big, baggy grey jumper that used to be Billy’s.

  The atmosphere felt completely different to yesterday. Maybe because it was a Sunday, and families were visiting.

  The blinds were up and the view from the ninth floor was incredible. You could see all the way across the suburbs, over the red roofs and dotted swimming pools, to the sea that looked like a band of blue at the edge of the world.

  The biggest difference of all was that Billy was much, much better. He still wore the oxygen mask but yesterday his lips were a dusky mauve and today they were back to normal. He could talk, too, without panting and coughing. He gave us a little run-down of the other patients in the room.

  Brian was thirty-one and married with two kids, who were sitting on his bed playing with Lego while he and his wife stood by the window, their arms linked around each other’s. He was a haemophiliac and had contracted HIV through a blood transfusion.

  Maurice was forty-two and an art dealer, but today he thought he was Greg. He had some disease in his brain that before AIDS came along had only been seen in cats; I didn’t understand what Billy meant. Whatever the disease was, it was obviously bad, because Maurice seemed to have shrunken into the pillows a little further than yesterday. I felt mean but I’d turned my chair away so I didn’t have to look at him.

  Zane didn’t look sick! He was about the hottest guy I’d ever seen. Not that he was interested in me. Andrea would probably say he was a bit too ‘Ken doll’ with his chiselled jaw and perfect teeth. Maybe when he was just lying there he did look a bit plastic, but he had a killer cheeky grin that’d make any girl wish he batted for our team.

  According to Billy, Zane was twenty-one and from a place called Garrandai, nine hours’ drive west of here. I wondered how often his parents visited him.

  Mum was off chatting to the nurses. She’d made a list of things she wanted to ask them about, like could she bring dinner in for Billy and did she need to do anything special when she washed his clothes?

  Billy lifted the mask off his face and smiled. ‘You still wear that old jumper of mine?’

  ‘It’s so soft. I love it.’

  ‘Were the girls okay about having to cancel yesterday?’ Billy asked.

  I nodded and stretched my feet up onto the end of Billy’s bed.

  ‘What did Andrea say?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I replied.

  Billy leaned in closer to me. ‘You didn’t tell her. Did you, Gem?’

  ‘Tell her what?’

  ‘That I’m sick. That I have AIDS.’

  I shrugged because I didn’t even know how to start talking about this.

  ‘Don’t chuck away a good friendship over it. Some people just can’t handle it. They’re scared.’

  ‘I told her you’re HIV-positive,’ I began. ‘She was … sort of okay about it. A bit shocked at first. But she’s still excited about you doing her hair. She’s always crapping on about it. It’s not so much Andrea that I’m—’

  ‘Her mother? Is that who you’re worried about?’ Billy asked, lying back into the pillows. ‘She’s an old homophobe from way back. We’ve always known that.’

  ‘Still, it makes it awkward for me to talk to Andrea about it properly.’ It felt as though my lips had gone to sleep and I couldn’t wake them up. ‘I don’t know if she’s told her mum. If she did, I don’t think her mum would let you do her hair and make-up.’

  ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Doesn’t that make you mad?’

  ‘I’m used to it. My expectations are different now.’

  ‘That sucks.’

  ‘When the lesions started appearing on Saul’s face, he was advised by his firm that it was best not to see clients anymore.’ Billy almost snarled the words. ‘He could still do the work, but not attend meetings. Save their clients and save Saul from suing them. The firm had a bet each way.’

  I didn’t understand completely what Billy was saying, but I got the gist.

  ‘Do you think about Saul a lot?’

  ‘All day, every day.’

  Mum
had made me bring homework to the hospital because we were camping out with Billy for the day and probably well into the night too. But every time I opened a book and started reading I’d get heavy eyelids. I longed to curl up on the floor and have a snooze. But the carpet looked dodgy with all types of weird stains and I wondered what disease I could catch from lying on it.

  ‘I can’t stay awake,’ I told Mum and Billy, who were both engrossed in their own magazines and hadn’t said one word for about half an hour. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk.’

  I was dying to call Louise to see if she and Andrea had ended up going to see Albatross. I didn’t have a life so I may as well hear about someone who did.

  Louise’s little brother, Nathan, answered the phone. He was a prize pain in the bum. One of those smartypants who pretty much interviewed you before handing the phone over to Louise.

  I could still hear him in the background when Louise finally got on the phone. Then I heard a yelp and his voice disappeared.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Louise apologised. ‘He’s killing me.’ Then she whispered, ‘I’ve got a thumper of a headache.’

  ‘So you did go out last night?’

  ‘Yeah. Wish you could’ve come, Gemma.’

  ‘Who was there?’

  ‘You mean, was Ralph there?’ Before I had fully registered the comment, Louise added, ‘Andrea told me. I had no idea you liked him.’

  ‘Used to like him,’ I corrected. ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘Ralph asked where you were. Like he didn’t go, “Hi, Louise, how are you? Are you having a good night?” He just came straight out and asked, “Is Gemma here?” ’

  Something went pop in my chest. A little ball of hope? Or was it a little ball of fear, anticipating the answer to my next question?

  ‘Where did you say I was?’ I asked.

  ‘Andrea did the talking,’ Louise said. ‘God, she’s bossy!’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She said you were dealing with family issues.’

  So maybe that’s why on Monday morning, on my way to Nigel, the lime mobile appeared from around a corner and stopped right next to me.

  But this time Vanessa was in the car, so I couldn’t just give Ralph the finger and walk off. Instead I stood there waiting, feeling like an idiot loser while Vanessa took forever to wind down the window.

  The only thing on my side was that I’d washed my hair and it was still out. Not tied back like we had to have it for school. I liked my hair. It wouldn’t win me the role in the Pantene ad like Vanessa, but my hair and legs were definitely my best features.

  ‘Hi,’ Vanessa said. ‘Jump in. We’ll give you a lift to school.’

  I’d been warned about stranger danger but what about jerk danger? Still, I opened the door and climbed into the back seat, thinking the whole time, Why am I doing this?

  In the rear-view mirror, Ralph gave me a smile that was more like a stretch of his lips. So I did the same back.

  ‘Vanessa’s had me driving around looking for you,’ he grumbled.

  ‘No, I haven’t!’ Vanessa answered. Then she turned around to face me and mouthed, ‘He’s in a bad mood.’

  I smiled. A real one, this time.

  ‘I don’t want to sound like I’m interfering, but is Billy okay?’ asked Vanessa. ‘Andrea told Ralph that something had happened and I just wondered if it was maybe about Billy?’ Vanessa looked genuinely worried. ‘And I thought it was better to ask you before we got to school.’

  ‘He had to go to hospital,’ I said. Vanessa’s hand slapped itself over her mouth. I didn’t want to make it into a big deal so I carefully chose my next words. ‘He has pneumonia. But he’s fine. They caught it early.’

  I had spied Ralph glancing at me in the mirror. But this time our eyes locked together. I’m not certain who looked away first. What I was certain about was that it was awkward.

  ‘Which hospital?’ she asked.

  ‘King George’s,’ I answered.

  ‘Oh, okay,’ she replied. ‘I know where that is. Ralph works around the corner. At Hot Spot Records. Is Billy allowed visitors?’

  ‘No,’ I said, a little bit too quickly. I actually didn’t know the answer. But what I did know was that the last thing I needed was Vanessa and her twin brother rocking into the AIDS ward at King George’s.

  ‘Are you all right, Gemma?’ Vanessa asked. ‘If you need anything just say. Ralph and I are happy to help. Aren’t we, Ralph?’

  Ralph grunted and I badly wanted to tell him that I didn’t need his help.

  There was a traffic jam outside the school, which was usual for this time of the morning. It was all the spoilt and lazy kids being dropped off.

  The three of us watched Sonia Darue spring out the door of her father’s gold Volvo like the homecoming queen she thought she was.

  Ralph groaned and said, ‘Hurry up, sweet sixteen, you’re holding up the traffic.’

  I pretended to chew my nails because I could feel a grin wanting to escape. But I wasn’t prepared to give Ralph the pleasure of thinking he’d amused me. It was bad enough him thinking that I needed his help.

  Sonia was bent over the boot, taking out a tennis racquet and a cello. She closed the boot, tapped the roof of the car three times and her dad drove away with a toot of the horn.

  Now Ralph’s face was buried over the steering wheel. ‘She is the world’s biggest loser.’

  ‘Don’t you reckon she’ll be married with two kids by the time she’s twenty-one?’ added Vanessa.

  ‘To Martin Searles. I bet you five dollars.’ Ralph said those last words loud and clear.

  I kept my head turned towards the window, telling myself not to move or speak.

  The minute the car was parked, Vanessa was taking off her seatbelt and jumping out. ‘I have to see my English teacher before class,’ she was saying at a rate of a thousand words a minute. ‘Pride and Prejudice. But hey, I should be asking for your help, Gemma. Ralph said you got the top mark for the essay last year.’ And she was off, her long, skinny legs flying behind her.

  ‘I know Vanessa’s told you to be nice to me,’ I said as I got out of the car. ‘But I’m fine.’ Then I forced myself to add, ‘Thanks for the lift,’ because even though I told myself I didn’t like Ralph anymore, I still didn’t want him to think I was a brat.

  After school, Aunty Penny drove me to the hospital. On the way we picked up honey king prawns and chicken chow mein from the Chinese restaurant across the road from King George’s.

  Aunty Penny and I waited in a little annexed corner for our takeaway.

  ‘Your nails match the carpet,’ I said, pointing at Penny’s long purple claws. ‘They fakes?’

  ‘What do you reckon?’ she answered. ‘Have you ever seen a nurse with long nails?’

  ‘Are you sad you had to cut your holiday short? I know Mum feels bad about it.’

  ‘I’m sad. My liver’s not.’ Aunty Penny wrapped her arm around me. ‘I’m glad your mum called me. You have to promise that if Billy is rushed off to hospital again and I’m in another exotic location, you will contact me. Promise?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s likely.’

  ‘What? Me being in an exotic location or Billy going to hospital?’

  But before I had a chance to answer, Aunty Penny was squeezing my shoulder and saying, ‘Billy will go to hospital again, Gem. He’ll get infections and they’ll need to be treated. We just have to be calm and logical about it.’

  ‘Order for Penny,’ said the man behind the counter, stuffing a bag of prawn crackers in among the plastic containers.

  ‘So much for Billy eating healthy, pesticide-free food,’ I said to Penny as we walked out. ‘I’ve never seen him say no to a prawn cracker, so if he eats them, he’s ready to come home.’

  ‘The drugs are making him hungry,’ Penny explained. ‘It’s good if he can eat because Bill has been on the thin side.’

  The first thing I saw when we walked into Billy’s room was that Maurice’s b
ed was freshly made. Empty. There was no longer a sign above it that read Maurice Goldsworthy.

  ‘Where’s … ?’

  ‘They’ve moved him to a single room,’ Billy explained. ‘He’s unconscious. All his family’s here with him.’

  I felt my expression crash, my smile sideswiped off my face. I’d walked in genuinely feeling like Polly Positive and not her impostor.

  Billy patted the bed. I sat on the edge and Billy put his hand on top of mine. ‘You okay?’ he asked softly. His cherry-scented breath from the thrush medicine made me feel sick and it had left a yellow stripe along his tongue.

  ‘Penny’s just heating up your dinner,’ I mumbled.

  ‘That’s not answering my question, Gem.’

  ‘I’m okay.’ Then I whispered, ‘Is Maurice going to die? Is that why they’ve moved him to a room on his own?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Does he have a boyfriend? Or a partner or whatever you say.’

  ‘No. But there are lots of people with him. People who really love him. So he’ll be okay.’

  I’d only met Maurice two days earlier but I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because this whole AIDS thing was unfair. It sucked. That frail, little man who had lain in the bed next to my brother was about to die. He was about to find out if there really were tunnels filled with light and people that you used to know standing there, waiting for you.

  The whole thing didn’t make sense. How could you be here one second and then just gone the next? Gone and never coming back. Who wrote that rule?

  The smell of honey prawns wafted down the corridor. It didn’t mix well with Billy’s cherry breath and the bleach that must’ve been used to mop around Maurice’s bed and the antiseptic pong that seemed to sweat from the hospital walls. Now I really did want to spew.

  ‘Dinner’s served,’ Aunty Penny sang, carrying in a tray.

  ‘I’m starving,’ Billy said. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

  ‘It’s the Prednisone.’

  ‘I tell you what, it’s powerful stuff,’ Billy replied. ‘I’m buzzing. I barely slept last night.’

  ‘That’s the trade-off.’

  ‘I’ll take it, Penny. I’ve got this new burst of energy.’