The Healing Season

by Catherine Evans

  She nodded while she placed her mug down. ‘Yeah, sometimes the lettering isn’t the best.’

  He made a sound like a growl as he tried to drag the words from deep inside him. ‘I don’t read real good.’ He looked everywhere but at her. He didn’t want to see her change, didn’t want to see the pity or the horror.

  ‘Neither do a lot of farmers. It’s probably why Rob pointed out the wrong order.’ Her voice was matter-of-fact. As if they were discussing seed and not his personal issues.

  Turning towards her, he stared, open-mouthed. ‘That’s it?’

  No one had ever reacted like that. It was like she wasn’t surprised. Like she expected it. Had he done something to make her think he couldn’t read earlier? If he had, why hadn’t she said something then? She hadn’t been checking up on him like someone who suspected he couldn’t read. Her reaction was all wrong.

  She shrugged. ‘We can work around it.’

  ‘How?’ Completely sceptical now, his tone reflected that. He didn’t want to sound snarky, or nasty or even confused but that’s exactly how his words sounded.

  She didn’t react as if she heard them like that. Her face was open and so was her body language. Her hands were resting on the table, relaxed. She wasn’t tense or angry. She shrugged as she spoke. ‘How about a texta colour and shape? A different mark on the different varieties. Will that work for you?’

  ‘You want to put a texta colour on the bag?’ He was almost laughing. His body rocked backwards and his shoulders opened wide. His Adam’s apple strained against his neck. ‘You think my problem can be solved with a coloured texta?’ She was completely insane.

  He thought she was calm and rational because she’d suspected his problem but it was much worse. She didn’t understand his problem at all.

  She placed her hand on the table, palm down but reaching towards him just a little, as if she was trying to touch him but couldn’t get close enough. ‘If you’re colour blind, we can do different shapes and not worry about colours.’

  ‘What?’ She’d lost her mind. He turned away, shaking his head back and forth while holding his arms crossed tight. He grabbed hold of his elbows and kept shaking his head. How on earth was he going to explain the difficulties he had being unable to read?

  She cleared her throat. ‘Lachlan.’ His name was spoken softly, gently. He listened but he didn’t turn back. He was trying to work out how to explain it in ways she’d understand.

  ‘My mum doesn’t read. I think there’s a few farmers around who don’t read well.’ She paused as if waiting for him to react in some way. He listened but he wasn’t moving yet. ‘For Mum, we put colours and shapes on stuff at home. It helped.’

  The buzzer rang. The next wave of customers arrived. Alicia moved towards the shop, brushed his arm as she passed and said, ‘No rush, finish your coffee.’

  So he sat at the table, head in his hands and thought through what had happened.

  She knew he couldn’t read but it didn’t surprise her because her Mum couldn’t either. He’d not met many people with his problem. It made him wonder how many others couldn’t read. Alicia didn’t seem to think it was a big deal, but for him, it was a catastrophe that affected every single aspect of his life.

  Illiteracy made him feel stupid, even though he knew he wasn’t. He’d missed so much schooling that he had never learned. Once he had missed the basics, he could never catch up. No matter what he tried, he hadn’t been able to teach himself. He could cover it up but he hadn’t mastered the art of reading.

  He finished his coffee and two pieces of cake. The longer he stayed in here, the more difficult it would be to leave. So he got up quickly, washed and cleaned up, then went back out to face the shop and the farmers.

  People were in and out all day leaving no time to do more than speak a few hurried words to Alicia. As the day progressed, he became more relaxed and by the time they were locking up, he was almost back to his normal self. Alicia hadn’t brought the subject up again, nor had she checked up on him, or questioned him. It was as if he hadn’t spoken to her about it. Things were normal.

  And that wasn’t normal. Not in his experience.

  ‘I think we’ll be busy tomorrow too,’ she said as they were cleaning up out the back. ‘I know it’s Saturday but if you don’t have anything else on, would you mind coming in?’

  ‘That’s fine. I don’t have anything urgent. I can come in.’

  When they finished up outside, Alicia walked inside and Lachlan locked the back door, as he did every evening. Nothing had changed. She stood and waited for him to head off, as she always did.

  On his way to the front door, he stopped, went to his desk and rummaged through looking for thick marker pens. ‘Alicia?’ When she turned, he held a fist full of them. ‘Could we try this? Do you mind?’ His voice wasn’t as deep and strong as usual. He hated asking her for help but he had to see if her system would work. Maybe she could help him work more effectively.

  The tiniest part of him wanted to ask if she could help him achieve his dream but he couldn’t bring himself to ask that. Not now. This was enough.

  Her eyes widened but she swallowed quickly and nodded. ‘Sure, let’s do it.’ She didn’t make a big deal of it, even if she was surprised he’d asked.

  They went out the back and started marking bags. She pointed out the Eu on the Eurabbie bags. ‘Eu is the beginning of Eurabbie, so if you become familiar with those letters you’ll know which bags are that variety.’

  He nodded. ‘I know the letters,’ he said quietly. He didn’t want her to think that he knew nothing at all.

  There were a few varieties of later sown oats, so they marked those in different colours. Bimbil was green. Mannus blue and Yiddah was red. Alicia made him choose the colours so that he’s remember which was which. Bimbil was like the bimble box tree so it was green. Mannus sounded like the detention centre on the news, Manus Island, and islands were surrounded by water so it was blue. Yiddah was like nothing he knew but sounded like a bit of a war cry, so he used red for that. He couldn’t admit his reasons to her, but she didn’t need to remember the colours, only he did.

  When they finished the oats, she pointed to some of the other crop seed they’d need later.

  He shook his head. ‘Whoa. My brain’s overloaded.’

  She gave a half smile. ‘It’s a lot, huh? No one will want them for a while yet. How about we call it quits?’

  ‘Yeah, before my brain explodes.’ He grinned, hoping to make light of the awkwardness he felt.

  They chuckled together before they went through the closing up process again. He dropped all the textas back on his desk and headed for the front door. He hesitated with his hand hovering on the handle. ‘Thank you … for today.’

  ‘It’s no problem.’ A smile was already on her face, as if she’d actually enjoyed helping him out.

  He wanted to explain what it had meant to him, her help. He didn’t know how to put it into words, so he said it as best he could. ‘It’s been a big problem. I figured you’d sack me. Others have. Then you come up with this simple solution, as if it isn’t a problem at all.’

  She leaned her hip and right elbow against the front counter, relaxed, maybe even a little shocked that he’d been sacked before. Her eyes had flared when he mentioned that as if she’d been caught unaware. She smiled and shrugged. ‘Like I said, Mum can’t read. It’s why she does farm work and cleaning well but sometimes messes up the cooking and shopping and those things mothers are meant to do. I didn’t know until I was about twelve. She uses a mark, or colour, or fold, or tear, for all sorts things. She has a phenomenal memory so she covers it up well. I don’t think many people know.’

  Lachlan nodded. He understood why Alicia was taking it so calmly. ‘Has she learned to read?’

  Alicia shook her head. Her lips pulled down as if it was a source of sadness for her, and with her education, maybe it was. Maybe she was ashamed of her mother.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked softl
y, hoping he wasn’t prying.

  ‘She doesn’t want to.’ Alicia waved a hand. ‘Or something.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘She just refuses.’ There was such a lot of resigned sadness in those words. It made him ache. He wanted to ask her more, maybe ask her to help him but he just wasn’t sure.

  ‘Do you think it’s possible to learn it?’ He hedged around the subject.

  ‘Reading?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Sure,’ she replied. ‘I looked into it years ago but Mum wasn’t interested. She got upset that I wanted to change her.’

  He couldn’t believe her mum wouldn’t have wanted to learn. He was desperate to read. But could he ask her? He peered at her. The sadness was genuine, he had no doubts about that. So she wasn’t ashamed of her mum, she probably wanted to help make life easier for her. He took a deep gulp, closed his eyes for a second and then blurted out, ‘Would you help me?’

  She met his gaze. Her brown-green eyes stared at him. He didn’t think she was shocked, more curious. She nodded. ‘If you want to learn, I’ll help. But if you want to work around it, I’m happy to do that too. It mightn’t be easy.’ She opened her hands, making sure he knew the decision was his and his alone. She wasn’t going to push him either way and for that, he was grateful.

  He stood a bit straighter and maintained her gaze. He wanted her to know that he was serious. He wanted to learn. ‘I’ve been trying to teach myself but not getting far.’ He shifted his feet. ‘I know it’s not easy but I don’t want to be any trouble.’

  ‘I could cook for us a night a week, or two, after work. While the food cooks, we could work on words.’ She seemed eager and encouraging. He hoped she was like that while helping him. She’d been like that while he learned the ropes in the Ag Store, so he didn’t think she’d be different with reading.

  ‘You’d do that, for me?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I can’t do it for Mum.’ Her own words seemed to surprise her. She stared at the carpet, no longer meeting his gaze, as if that admission hurt.

  He moved close to her, brushed her arm lightly to give her comfort. ‘Thank you.’

  Her breath stopped halfway in and her head shot up to stare at him.

  While he had her attention, he said, ‘You’re too good, Alicia Pearce. I owe you. You can never believe how much I owe you.’ He hoped she knew how much this meant. After lightly squeezing her arm, he turned and headed for the door. ‘Good night.’

  He drove home with his heart racing and his stomach twisting in fear and excitement. He’d found someone who not only accepted his inability but who was willing to help him learn. He hadn’t thought he’d ever find a person to do either, yet he’d found one person to do both.

  In the pokiest town on the face of the earth, he’d found someone willing to accept and assist. Maybe Dulili was exactly where he was meant to be.

  Chapter 5

  Deliveries came in on Tuesdays, and they were often late, so Tuesday was an easy choice for one of the study-and-dinner nights. Alicia decided on Thursday for the other ‘reading’ night. Thursdays gave them a gap and Alicia thought that was necessary, although she didn’t admit her reasoning to Lachlan.

  On the first Tuesday night, the delivery truck came as usual but this time Uncle Mike was driving, not his yard man. There was nothing wrong with Uncle Mike bringing the deliveries, he owned the Dulili store and the ones in Orange and Bathurst so he could do whatever he wanted, it was just that she was awkward about sharing dinner with Lachlan, and his arrival only made her jitters worse. The moment he stepped from the truck, her hands plunged into her pockets and her brain silently exclaimed, Why tonight?

  Uncle Mike wasn’t her real uncle. He was Paul’s uncle but she’d called him uncle all her life and that was one thing that wasn’t changing. Not even when she worked for him. She’d first talked to him about opening a Dulili Ag Store before she went to uni. He owned a few of the shops in town and struggled to find tenants, so he promised her a shop and his support if she got through her ag degree. After her last exam he gave her the keys.

  She hadn’t seen him for weeks, although they spoke on the phone regularly. It was great to see him again. If only she didn’t have this weird feeling of guilt. There was nothing to feel guilty about but her mind hadn’t got that memo. Her mouth uttered a different set of words, thankfully. ‘Uncle Mike, how are you?’ It came out stronger, happier and more welcoming than she expected, given her nerves.

  He swept her into his huge chest and held her tight. He’d held her like that ever since Paul died. She had to brush her face against his shirt and turn her head when he released her.

  Lachlan moved towards the forklift. Focused on work. Good.

  ‘Alicia P., I had to come and tell you how bloody proud I am. I had to come here myself. I couldn’t do it over the phone.’ He stepped back and gave her closer inspection. ‘You don’t look too bad.’ He looked over at Lachlan. ‘Neither does he. I thought you’d both be skin and bone.’ His chuckle boomed across the yard.

  ‘Skin and bone?’ She didn’t have a clue what he was saying. His humour was difficult to follow especially when she was already feeling brittle.

  ‘You guys have moved so much product. I thought you might have whittled away to nothing.’

  She smiled and shook her head. ‘We’ve done okay, haven’t we?’

  He grasped her shoulder and shook it lightly. ‘More than okay. I can’t tell you how proud I am. Paul would be so pleased.’ He threw his arm across her shoulders and squeezed her sideways.

  She fought a lump in her throat pushing out, ‘I think he’s working hard upstairs, making everyone come in.’

  Uncle Mike gave a gruff laugh. ‘Nah, you’re giving good advice and good service, and you’re local. That’s what works. That’s what you told me about six years ago when you hatched this crazy plan.’

  Lachlan drove up on the forklift and she waved, inviting him to come over. To Mike, she said, ‘You should tell Lachlan. He’s been doing a lot of the work too. Lachlan, this is Mike Colyden, our boss. The one we only ever talk to over the phone.’ She grinned at them both while they shook hands. Mike reiterated how proud of them he was. But while he spoke, he sized Lachlan up. His gaze ran up and down his length, across his shoulders, over his face. It reminded her of Mike sizing up cattle or horses.

  Whatever Mike found in Lachlan, Alicia didn’t know.

  ‘I’m Paul’s uncle,’ Mike said as if that would explain everything but it would mean nothing to Lachlan. Alicia was shocked. To her it meant Mike was staking a claim, seeing Lachlan as a threat.

  She winced and quickly covered it by shaking her head. ‘Lachlan’s new in town. He didn’t know Paul.’

  ‘Oh, right. Didn’t realise.’ But he should have. He’d interviewed Lachlan. Uncle Mike had the wrong idea about Lachlan and she had to set him straight.

  Lachlan shifted his feet and his upper body wriggled under the scrutiny. ‘I’ll unload,’ he said. Alicia gave him a nod and a smile that she forced through stiff lips. What was Uncle Mike doing?

  She took Uncle Mike’s arm and led him inside. A cup of coffee and a chat was needed. Now.

  ‘Were you scoring him on the stud book?’ She flicked her chin up and pointed toward the yard while she filled the kettle.

  Mike chuckled. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  She faked a laugh as she flicked the switch, before grabbing three mugs. ‘Ah, yes, it was.’ She placed the three mugs carefully in the bench. ‘Lachlan’s my work colleague. Nothing else.’ She spooned coffee into Mike’s without asking and added two sugars. He only ever drank ‘2SM’. She dangled tea bags in the other two mugs. ‘There’s nothing between us.’ She fussed with the milk bottle. ‘I still … you know … miss Paul.’ The last two words came out almost as a choked whisper.

  Mike nodded while he fiddled with his phone, clearly as uneasy with the conversation as she was. After the kettle boiled and while she poured, he
said, ‘He seems a nice chap.’

  ‘Yep.’ Her hand wobbled but most of the water landed in the mugs.

  The chair scraped as he stood, then he had his arms around her, steadying the kettle and placing it on the bench. He rubbed her arms with his huge hands but she was like a fencepost.

  ‘Are you really doing okay?’

  She nodded, then shook her head, then shrugged. ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Is being back here, this business, too much?’ The concern in his voice almost broke her. He’d given her everything, yet he was worried it wasn’t right. She had to make him see.

  ‘No. Never. This is what I want.’ Stepping away from him, she reached for the milk then poured a dollop before stirring his coffee. She placed the mug into his hands. ‘This business has given me focus. Every day I get up and I thank you so very very much for letting me try this. I want this to do well and for Dulili to do well. And that’s what keeps me going.’ The words came out kind of wet.

  Mike’s hand clamped to her shoulder, even as he took a step backwards. ‘I’m always here for you. I want you to know that.’ His voice was soft.

  Uncle Mike was always supportive. She wasn’t even directly related to him, yet he cared so much for her. How she could be so well looked after by Paul’s uncle still amazed her. Leaning forwards, she placed a kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank you. I know.’ She met his gaze to make sure he saw her sincerity.

  Mike held her stare and then nodded, like he’d decided she was okay. Or as okay as she could be. Then he took his seat at the table, and she followed with her mug of tea.

  They talked shop while Lachlan unloaded the truck. Alicia helped with that sometimes but he could manage alone. It was mostly pallets so a one-person job with the forklift.

  When Lachlan came in, they talked about the business for a bit longer, ironing out a few issues and fine-tuning how they were doing things.

  Even as she spoke about work, she was somewhat distracted by Mike’s assessment of Lachlan. She glanced at him, trying to see him as Mike might have. But she had no idea what Mike would have been evaluating. She was too distracted by Lachlan’s looks.