Coming Home to Roost

by Mary-anne Scott

  Elliot nodded and leaned his head back against the van.

  A tree in the car park was pink with blossom against the growing dusk. It was a wintry August day but he could see spring was on its way. ‘Who’s minding the baby?’ he asked.

  ‘Lena’s back with him now and she’ll be fine. Dad and I will come back during the week and collect her.’

  ‘What about Katie?’

  ‘We don’t know, but she’ll probably travel by ambulance if her leg ends up in full plaster.’

  ‘Lou!’ Dad waved his cellphone. ‘This was on silent and there’s twenty-three missed calls from Rick!’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Mum held her hand out. ‘Quick! I’ll ring. I hope he’s okay.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s fine,’ Elliot said. ‘He just rang and he wants you to wash his volleyball kit for camp and make the dinner.’

  ‘Does he just,’ Mum said in a solemn way. She began to dial and then she paused. ‘What does he know about Lena? Did he know she was pregnant?’

  ‘Everyone did.’

  ‘When did you know, Elliot?’ Her mood had plummeted and now Elliot could see he was going to wear it. ‘Could you have possibly let us know sooner?’

  ‘Not now, Lou. I agree, but right now is not the time.’

  Elliot quickly decided to play peacemaker. ‘Why don’t you two go home, let Rick go on his camp and we can talk about it with him when he gets back?’ Elliot had dealt with all he could for one day and Royal Rick would have to wait. ‘I’ll come home next weekend and we can have a family chat.’ Next weekend seemed a lifetime away.

  Elliot went inside the hospital to get more food from the slot machine and go to the loo. He hoofed it back to Lena’s ward to say goodbye to the baby. His timing worked perfectly as the nurse was wheeling him into the nursery. ‘Lena’s a bit groggy so we’ll keep the baby near us so we can keep an eye on him,’ she said.

  ‘It’s fine. I just wanted to say goodbye to this little fella.’ The baby was wrapped in a white cloth and wouldn’t have been able to turn his head or get his hands out if he’d wanted to. ‘Is that okay? Not too tight?’

  ‘He’s swaddled,’ she said. ‘It makes him feel safe.’

  Elliot touched the baby’s cheek and his eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. The new father felt his heart skip a beat.

  ‘Dear little boy,’ the nurse said.

  ‘Well! Look what the tide washed up!’ Arnie called out. He was sitting up straight, a folded piece of newspaper on his knee and a pen in his hand. ‘This is Margaret,’ he said, indicating the nurse who was putting things into Arnie’s locker. ‘She’s getting everything squared away.’

  There were three other men in the room, all of a similar age to Arnie, and they watched and listened openly as if they were the audience on the ‘Live Arnie Show’.

  ‘This lad’s just become a father,’ he told everyone. ‘So, Elliot, what’ve you got?’

  ‘A boy.’ Elliot hoped Arnie would keep his opinions to himself and his big trap shut, but there was no such luck.

  ‘There you go then. A boy. Always best to have a boy, you know. Girls can be tricky — they can get pregnant — you found that, didn’t you?’

  Margaret eased Arnie back into the pillows. ‘Hush now. Enough.’ She pulled up a chair for Elliot. ‘How lovely for you. Did everything go well? What does he weigh?’

  ‘Three kilos, exactly.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a good weight. Now, Mr Cashwell, you behave yourself.’ She picked up her things to leave. ‘He’s been looking forward to seeing you, we’ve heard nothing but Elliot-this and Elliot-that since he arrived on the ward.’

  Arnie had the grace to look told-off. ‘So, tell me your news first.’

  Elliot filled him in on the car accident, the baby and his parents’ involvement.

  ‘That’s the thing about parents; they usually come to the party. They have to — it’s like it or lump it with kids; you’ll find that out.’

  Arnie, then, had news for Elliot. ‘I’ll give you the good news first.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Neither of us is in trouble over the accident. We’re both getting “learning recommendations”.’ He made speech marks with the fingers on his good hand. ‘Whoop-di-shit, I say. I was negligent, but it’s irrelevant now.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, that’s the other news. I’m going to retire. This burnt hand’s a mess. It’s going to take a long time to heal.’

  Elliot heard the word retire and thought, I’m out of a job.

  ‘When you get to my age,’ Arnie continued, ‘things don’t clean up as quickly as they used to.’ He lifted his arm out of the sling and ran his good hand gently over the bandages. ‘I think it’s time I called it quits. Funny thing is, if it weren’t for the boys, I’d have a holiday. I’d like to go on a cruise.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yeah. Out on the briny. I’d throw myself overboard when no one was looking. Die with my boots on, so to speak.’

  It was too much for Elliot to take in. How can you just up and retire? ‘Um, what about me?’

  ‘It’ll push you into a decision.’ He nodded his head at Elliot. ‘You need to do your ticket.’

  ‘What about the jobs we’ve got booked in?’ Arnie looked as smug as his cats. ‘You can’t just quit!’

  ‘Well, if I’d fried, I’d have quit! That’s the thing about surviving — you get another perspective.’

  Elliot didn’t answer. It felt as if his life was a ride on the Slayer, its bucket arms chucking him in all directions. ‘Come on, Arnie, I have to work,’ he blurted out. ‘I’ve got a baby.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. You’re young.’ He edged the drawer open beside his bed and pulled out his wallet. ‘Take that lovely Zeya out tonight and then bring me up a meal in a bucket. The food here’ll kill me before I have a chance to do it myself.’ He slid out some notes. ‘And put a bloody smile on your face too. You’ve got the world ahead of you.’

  Elliot didn’t take the money. He leaned forward and dropped his voice. ‘I have to talk about the electrocution thing. Have you read the report yet?’

  ‘No, just heard the results from Jennifer Butler who rang and spoke to me on the hospital phone. Why?’

  ‘Because it will say in the report that I took a phone call just as you were cutting the phase wire.’

  Arnie’s eyebrows dropped down over his eyes; he leaned forward. ‘Say that again?’

  ‘That day. My phone rang; it was in my pocket. I answered and it was Zeya. I’m sorry.’

  ‘But we had a no-phone policy. Didn’t we?’ Arnie’s voice was low and angry. The other men in the ward put up their newspapers and spoke amongst themselves. Arnie scratched his face. ‘Bloody hell. I remember you were there beside me and suddenly you were gone — skiving off to take your call, I see.’ He put his head back on the pillows. ‘I know it doesn’t change things but, Elliot, I’m disappointed in you. The fact is, I electrocuted myself; poor workplace practices, the lady said, and she was right.’

  ‘If I’d been watching you instead of, you know,’ Elliot shrugged. ‘Well I might have been able to prevent it. I’m sorry I did that — answered my phone. I let you down.’

  ‘I’m pleased you told me, because something didn’t make sense.’ He looked at Elliot. ‘What about the girl?’

  ‘Zeya? Well she’s back, obviously, but I don’t know what the story is with her, ’cause you got pinged right then. She heard the whole thing though. She ran and told her father and I haven’t spoken to her since. He’s got her phone now.’

  ‘I’ll bet he has. She won’t be getting that back in a hurry. We can safely assume your Burmese experience is over.’

  Elliot said, ‘Yeah. Probably already was. Who knows?’

  ‘You can marry that girl now who’s had your baby. It’ll keep things tidy.’

  ‘I’d rather die.’

  ‘Dreadful expression.’ Arnie flapped his money. ‘Go and get some food for us both then. We’ll share it
here.’

  ‘Alright, but it’s my shout; I owe you that much.’

  ‘It’s got a funny clutch, and the handbrake’s a bit stiff.’ Dorice leaned over Elliot and explained her snazzy Mazda. He tried to pull back. He knew there was nothing wrong with either the clutch or the handbrake; the car was in mint condition. ‘Now take it slowly with Arnie and there’s cushions in the back for him to rest his arm.’

  ‘Yeah, got it.’ Elliot wound the window up.

  She rapped on the glass and he lowered it a fraction. ‘Pick me up when he’s at home and I’ll come out to get him settled.’

  ‘He may want to be alone. See the boys.’

  ‘I’ll bring morning tea.’

  Food was always the clincher. ‘Okay, Dorice, I’ll be in touch.’

  It was a busy Friday morning and it took a while to get Arnie signed out of the hospital. He had to be wheelchaired to the front door and helped into the car.

  ‘Don’t tell them I’ve got access problems at home,’ he said when the nurse was out of earshot. ‘They’ll never let me go.’

  ‘It’s a hell of a climb.’

  ‘We’ll manage. Just get me there.’

  ‘What about the stairs inside?’

  ‘Mind your business. It’s my problem,’ he growled.

  Elliot was sure it was going to be his problem.

  ‘Here, put your arm on this.’ Elliot reached into the back window of Dorice’s car to grab a cushion. He lifted up one after another and stared at them. Seven crocheted balls and each one had an elf’s hat attached. It took him a moment to register the names: Happy, Dopey, Sleepy.

  He chose Grumpy for Arnie and stuck it under his arm. By the time Elliot and Arnie made it up the path, sweat was running down their faces and Arnie was trembling. His skin was grey again; he looked sick. The cats appeared and disappeared at various vantage points on the property; silent witnesses to the struggle. ‘Boys,’ Arnie said, his voice cracking. He leaned on the rail of the deck then lurched towards his chair as soon as Elliot had the sliding doors unlocked. ‘Get me a drink,’ Arnie said.

  Elliot got him a glass of water and Arnie had two sips. ‘Now get me a real drink.’

  ‘The nurse said no alcohol.’

  ‘Did she now? Lucky she couldn’t make it to the party.’ But Arnie didn’t insist.

  ‘This is no good, Arnie. I’m going home tonight; you can’t stay here alone.’

  ‘I’m not going back to hospital and I’m certainly not going down the path again.’

  ‘Dorice might move in.’

  ‘I’d rather die,’ he said with a grin at Elliot. That put paid to any thought that Arnie might marry Dorice. ‘Parts of her are all right in small doses,’ he said as if he could read Elliot’s thoughts.

  Elliot nodded slowly in agreement but quickly said, ‘I can’t leave you here.’

  ‘Stop fussing.’

  Arnie had some of Dorice’s morning tea before he fell asleep in his chair. He rested his broken foot on a dining chair and his crutches were propped up beside his recliner.

  Elliot went out and bought Arnie some baggy track pants with a fleecy lining. ‘They’re called fat pants,’ he told Arnie when he woke up.

  ‘Modern, are they?’

  ‘The latest.’ Elliot put the bag beside Arnie’s chair. ‘Speaking of modern, why do you have a tattoo of a rooster on one thigh and a pig on the other?’

  ‘Were you peeping under the covers?’ Arnie laughed at Elliot’s shocked expression. ‘No, it’s an old sailor thing. It’s a safeguard against drowning.’

  ‘I thought it was in honour of me and Deeks, your new buddies.’

  ‘Right. Who’s Deeks?’

  Elliot tried to make the house more suitable for Arnie. He could barely manage the stairs, even with Elliot’s help, and both his bed and the bathroom were on the lower level. A temporary bed in the lounge solved one problem but Elliot couldn’t figure out how Arnie would manage without a toilet for two days.

  ‘Leave me the phone when you go to the supermarket,’ Arnie said. ‘I’ll have it sorted by the time you get back.’ Sure enough, an hour later, two men struggled up the path with a portable toilet, which they parked on Arnie’s deck. ‘Get me the bucket that I use for making my rum — and a razor and mirror too, in case I feel like a spruce up.’

  ‘Hiring that toilet must have cost you a bomb,’ Elliot said as he stared out the window at the green shape.

  ‘Can’t put a price on a dunny.’

  ‘The neighbours are going to freak. You’ll have to shut the door, ’cause they’ll see you in there.’

  ‘The other option would have been a lot more unsightly.’ He gave a raspy chuckle. ‘Johnny on the spot is an old friend of mine from the navy. Anyone who gets twitchy about a dunny needs to do time at sea.’

  The district nurse arrived to dress Arnie’s wounds when he was in the toilet. ‘Come on in,’ Elliot said. He nodded at the cubicle. ‘Arnie won’t be long.’

  ‘Oh, dear me,’ she said when Arnie finally struggled inside.

  ‘Yep,’ he agreed. ‘My days up here are over. I’m going to look for a place on the flat.’ He stood by the fire that Elliot had just lit. ‘I can’t do up my trousers with this burnt hand.’

  The nurse went to help him but Elliot handed her the new pants.

  ‘Can you put these on him, please?’

  ‘I’ll do it now, but are you able to take care of Arnie?’ She gave Elliot the full benefit of her stare.

  ‘I’m going away for the weekend.’

  ‘He’s got a new baby,’ Arnie said in a proud voice.

  The nurse looked as if nothing would surprise her. ‘This is not ideal at all. I’ll have to come in and check on you each day.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’m as tough as old boots,’ Arnie said.

  ‘I’m beginning to see that. I’ll come by anyway.’

  But Arnie wasn’t so tough when Flotsam disappeared shortly thereafter. He’d been there to witness the Portaloo’s arrival and he’d watched the installation with his superior cat-expression as he pressed his face against the glass. It wasn’t long after the men had left that Arnie noticed he was missing.

  ‘He’ll be back,’ Elliot said, but he searched the house, the basement, around by the rubbish tins and under the deck just in case. They called and banged his dinner bowl, but only Jetsam was there. Elliot even shone a torch down the new toilet but there was no sign of Flotsam. ‘Cats do this sort of thing,’ he told Arnie. ‘He’ll be back for dinner.’

  ‘He’s curtains.’

  ‘’Course he’s not.’

  Arnie was right, though. A neighbour at the bottom of the path rang to say Flotsam was dead on the road; run over by the Portaloo truck.

  ‘Just go and get him,’ Arnie said to Elliot.

  Elliot went to have a look and the sight made him feel sick. The neighbour helped Elliot scoop him onto a spade, where he lay, draped over the edges, his face intact but his body flattened.

  Elliot tackled the path up to Arnie’s again. He tried not to gawp at Flotsam as he struggled up the steep incline but he needed to keep checking that he didn’t lose the body.

  Arnie waited on the deck. He stared at his cat and his eyes swam with water. ‘Bury him there; under the oleander,’ he said.

  It was later in the afternoon by the time Elliot threw the last clump of dirt on Flotsam’s grave and rolled some rocks from behind the house on top of the mound. Jetsam appeared and disappeared throughout the whole business, anxious and unsettled.

  ‘I’m not going now. I can’t leave you,’ Elliot said.

  ‘You are. I need you to clear out, because I’m going to sit in my chair and farewell a beautiful cat in my own way. No well-intentioned nurse or eighteen-year-old is going to tell me otherwise.’

  ‘Aye aye.’ Elliot knew Arnie meant what he said. ‘I’ll see you Sunday.’

  ‘Whenever you like. I’m set for a week or two. You go and attend to your own matters.’

&nb
sp; Elliot shook Arnie’s left hand, grabbed his bags and made his way back down the path again.

  Brunswick Ave. There’s something about home that always gets you in your gut, Elliot reckoned. He brought Arnie’s van to a halt outside his house and peered in. There weren’t many lights on but Dad was probably doing Team-Friday beers and hopefully Rick was still on camp. Elliot knew he needed time to catch up with his mother, nut out some strategies.

  It was the first time he’d been back since Nana had been put down and he was surprised to see a new red chair beside the wood-burner where Nana’s basket used to be. ‘That’s good, I think,’ Elliot said, taking in the changes. ‘Very trendy.’

  ‘Oh, we’ve had that for ages,’ Mum said. ‘It’s been a while since you’ve been here.’

  He could hear the reprimand in her tone, so Elliot changed the subject. ‘Can I chuck my washing on? Is Rick back tonight?’ Elliot started to throw his dirty clothes into the machine.

  ‘I’m not sure; he’s been vague as usual. It depends on their last game — something about the finals and qualifying. I’ve been too busy to take much notice.’ She leaned across Elliot and pressed start on the machine in an aggressive way as if she’d like to wash Rick and his many sports away.

  Well that’ll be a first. ‘So what’s happening tonight?’ Elliot leaned on the bench and sniffed the kitchen. There didn’t seem to be much action.

  ‘I’ve invited Lena around; I know you’ve only just got here but she’s isolated and lonely.’ Mum went and sat in the new red chair and pointed at the seats around the kitchen table. ‘Sit down. When did you last speak to Lena?’

  ‘Not since last Sunday. She’s sent me pictures of the baby but we haven’t talked. Arnie’s taken up my time, really.’ It struck Elliot that his parents had probably been in daily contact with her.

  ‘Well, I’ve never known a girl to be so alone; it’s truly abysmal. I don’t know how her parents sleep at night. Anyway,’ Mum tapped the arm of her chair and started to count things off. ‘Katie needed an operation on her leg so she’s still in hospital. Lena was ambulanced home on Wednesday with the baby. Dad and I have helped her as much as possible but she’s been quite tearful.’