Season of Shadow and Light

by Jenn J. McLeod

  ‘For God’s sake, Aiden, quit it with the questions. If you don’t get her a chair and some water I will.’ Rory attempted to stand, but the donor nurse chick stepped forward, gently pinning her back against the pillow.

  ‘Take it easy,’ the woman said, well-rehearsed warmth in her voice. ‘I understand your concern, Aurora, and your disappointment, Paige, but we have a few days to wait for the biopsy results. Discovery does mean treatment. Whatever the results, your prognosis is good.’

  Rory could see her sister had turned white—or was it green? Either way, this was not good. Paige was not coping with whatever this latest bombshell was, unlike Rory who was used to disappointment. Hospitals and medical procedures had been part of her life for so long.

  ‘So they can fix you?’

  ‘One part.’ Paige nodded, staring and prodding the swelling in her fingers. ‘It’s ridiculous. How can something as insignificant as high blood pressure stop me from being a donor?’ she asked.

  ‘High blood pressure?’ Rory repeated.

  ‘Hypertension,’ the nurse said. ‘I’ll bring you some reading material to help you understand.’

  ‘So,’ Rory couldn’t help but notice the silent exchange between the nurse and her sister, ‘this hypertension is insignificant, and yet I’m sensing there’s more. There is, isn’t there? Come on, Paige, out with it.’

  ‘I’ll come back in a little while.’ The nurse left quickly, confirming Rory’s suspicions.

  ‘Yes, there is something else, but it can wait.’

  ‘Out with it.’ Rory said, this time in a low growl to show she meant business.

  ‘Please, not now. I don’t want you worrying.’

  ‘Out. With. It. Or do I get out of this bed and go get the information from someone myself?’ She made to get up, discarding the starchy sheet that felt more like pita bread than bed linen.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Paige said, her hand keeping Rory in a holding pattern—half in and half out of the bed. ‘Stay there and I’ll tell you.’ Her sister took one long, deep breath in, holding it momentarily before exhaling just as slowly. ‘My medical history might be a problem. Because of the stroke, there’s a possibility I suffered some kidney damage.’ Rory jerked to a seated position and another Paige palm thrust forward. ‘Relax, will you? Nothing major,’ Paige said. ‘They won’t know anything until the results are in. That requires day surgery and a simple needle biopsy. They’ve already suggested the damage is likely to be small, but when combined with this bloody hypertension . . .’

  ‘The risk is greater. I get it. You forget I’ve had to live with one kidney since I was sixteen. Okay, so at least you know; that’s what’s most important. You need to know shit like that is going on in your body so you can look after yourself. Shame I didn’t look after old lefty here.’ Rory patted that place on her side. And if that quack doctor years ago had’ve picked up my cancer . . . Anyway, enough of the past. You get to keep your kidneys.’

  ‘But I so wanted to believe you and I were meant to find each other so I could help.’

  ‘We must’ve been meant to find each other for some other reason,’ Rory said with forced optimism. ‘Maybe instead of you helping me, I was meant to help you. And it seems that now I have, in a roundabout way. And I’ll be taking the credit and reminding you every day for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Oh, Rory, it’s not fair.’ Paige’s head lowered to her hands, her fingers massaging the scalp as she shook from side to side.

  ‘Hey, come on. I’ve waited this long. I can keep waiting. I’ve gotta be getting closer to the top of that lucky list. Look on the bright side. They can treat you and monitor your condition.’

  ‘You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t see any bright side.’

  ‘What can I do?’ Aiden finally spoke. He’d been standing there, a silent sentinel, his thigh pressed up against the bed end, his expression morbid.

  Poor bugger, Rory thought. He was such a goner for her sister. The notion made her smile.

  ‘You can let me have a minute with Ebony. I mean Paige,’ she corrected as confusion crossed over Aiden’s face. ‘Please, Aiden? Then I’ll fill you in on everything.’

  He hesitated before reaching out—both hands: one picked up Rory’s, the other stroked the back of Paige’s head now resting on the edge of the hospital mattress.

  Rory squeezed his hand back, smiled and said, ‘We’re all good here. I’ve got Paige. Come back later, okay Aiden?’

  As he left, the grating sound of ward curtains sliding on tracks sounded like chalk on a blackboard to Rory.

  ‘Paige, look at me,’ she said, but her sister didn’t move, both hands and her forehead resting on the side of the mattress. ‘Paige?’

  With no response Rory grabbed the corner of one fluffy pillow from behind her back and swung it through the air, letting it land with a thump.

  ‘What the . . . ?’ Paige reeled and sat up, stunned as the lightweight weapon again connected with her head.

  ‘Good! Got your attention, have I? Always did love the idea of a pillow fight, only there was never anyone around to beat up. I asked you, what do you want to do?’

  ‘Curl up and—’

  ‘Not an option,’ Rory interjected. ‘No one is dying. And don’t shake your head at me like that. I know you think you’re my big sister, but it’s only by an hour or so. Besides, I have some taking control to catch up on and I’ve made a decision.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘We’re going home—together.’

  ‘Home?’

  ‘To Coolabah Tree Gully, to Nevaeh. If I’m waiting for a kidney I want to come home to the country—with you. We can wait this out together, in our house—as sisters—the way it should’ve been.’

  ‘Oh, Rory, I don’t know . . .’

  ‘I do. Listen, Paige, I know I have to let you get your head around this, but at the same time you have to understand this has been my life for so long. The more you focus on my situation, the more fuss you make, treating me differently, the more you remind me I’m sick. I don’t wake up every day and think how long have I got or who’s the lucky bugger getting that call today? Living that way would drive me crazy. We can choose to spend our time being sad, or we can make the most what’s left—together. It’s getting late for me, yes, but not too late; there’s a difference. That night, when Nancy ran off with us, we not only lost each other, we lost the chance to complete our story. Dad could just as easily have dragged you from the car first and not me. Then my story would be your story.’ Rory cupped Paige’s cheek and thumbed a tear away. ‘We’ll get to complete our stories as one, only not here and not like this. Together, at Nevaeh.’

  ‘I think maybe we need to be here for you, closer to a big hospital.’

  Rory knew from her toneless voice that fear was twisting Paige’s thoughts into something terrifying.

  ‘Maybe later, but for now we have to consider more than our individual needs. This isn’t about the two of us. What we discover about our lives will have an impact on others. Mati for one. She needs to understand. As for Alice . . . We’ll need her to fill in so many gaps. If I recall correctly, however, the last conversation between you two was, well, the word I’d probably use is hysterical.’

  ‘I wasn’t very nice. I’d hardly blame her for not forgiving me.’

  ‘Of course Alice will forgive you. She loves you. Keeping that secret was all about love and about protecting your relationship.’

  ‘How do I face her?’

  ‘Together. You and me. I’m taking you home, Ebony Paige.’

  41

  Alice

  Where did two long-lost sisters begin to share forty years of story?

  Alice stood ruminating on having clocked up ten days and nights silently observing them from the sanctuary of her bedroom in Nancy’s old house. The twins’ birthday came and went without ceremony. It was celebration enough just being together. Each day Alice had watched a silent stroll from her window, two silhouettes dot
ting the landscape that rolled out before her. Sometimes the girls walked hand in hand, until a shift in their storytelling demanded excited gestures, sometimes hugs. Mostly they wandered without direction, their only purpose to know each other. To complete each other.

  Sometimes their amble would halt midway along a path, or in the middle of a field, or by the horse yards where Alice guessed they were remembering their mother astride a horse, and talking about a young pinto pony she’d named Rijol, a christening gift for the twins. Sometimes the sisters seemed to pull up sharply, as if the simple task of talking and walking at the same time was impossible. Afterwards, they’d sit, usually side by side, staring into the distance. Occasionally they’d sit opposite each other, touching, exploring: faces, arms, hands. When they strolled to the river’s edge, out of Alice’s sight, Alice would find Matilda, gather her up in her arms for a Nana hug, then together they’d make tea.

  Yes, they were all back at Nevaeh with Aurora for a while longer, all sitting tight, all hoping for a miracle.

  By dusk each evening, Alice would check the paddocks and see two long shadows making their way back to the house. Only during the still of early evening, when the pair sat on the veranda directly under Alice’s open window, could she eavesdrop on their conversation—and unashamedly so, whenever she heard the words . . .

  ‘Nancy and Alice . . .’ Rory said, ‘they were so lucky to have known a love like that.’

  ‘You never found Mr Right?’ Paige asked. ‘Not that I believe in those much.’

  ‘Maybe I did, only I wouldn’t let myself see how close to right he was when he proposed.’

  ‘Really? He asked you to marry him? What happened?’

  ‘I wanted to, but . . .’ Rory sighed, long and loud.

  ‘But what?’

  ‘We both had so much baggage. Juma—that was his name,’ she explained, ‘was so good to me. Too good. When we met I was working for an aid organisation in Sydney. He was a coordinator, helping new refugees from his home, southern Sudan, settle in small towns across New South Wales. His dream was to settle in one himself. He wanted me to go with him.’

  ‘You didn’t want that?’

  ‘I swore I’d never go back to a small town.’ Rory paused. ‘He was a beautiful man, but that only made me question it more.’

  ‘Question what?’

  ‘Why he would choose me.’

  ‘He loved you.’

  Rory nodded. ‘Too much. It was as if he wanted to rescue me.’

  ‘And you didn’t need rescuing. Got it! You’re no damsel.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘What happened to . . . What did you say his name was?’

  ‘Juma. Juma Mapieu.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘I wish I knew. I left him on New Year’s Eve a few years back. Stood him up. Disappeared. By now I’m guessing he’s happy and settled somewhere.’

  ‘You never thought about tracking him down?’

  ‘There was a time, but I put it off and off until it was all a bit late to try.’

  ‘But not too late,’ Paige said, pointedly. ‘There’s a difference.’

  ‘Touche!’ Rory’s laugh was small, strained. ‘Funny how things change. I could do with saving right about now.’

  ‘Then try to find him. How hard could it be with a name like—what did you say it was? Juma?’ Alice thought she heard hesitation in Paige’s voice, like she does when her thoughts are pulled elsewhere. ‘The name definitely reminds me of someone.’

  ‘Once met, Juma is not a guy easily forgotten, believe me. But, enough about that.’ A change in Rory’s voice signalled restlessness. Alice heard the scuffing of feet on timber boards, and then Rory came into view at the bottom of the steps. She squatted to examine something too small for Alice to see until she nudged the bug on the palm of her hand before gently relocating the rescued insect to the leaf of a nearby shrub. ‘Speaking of Mr Right, in case you hadn’t noticed, you have him right under your nose. You and Aiden are like a freakin’ wedding cake couple. He’s not a bad catch.’

  ‘And he was yours,’ Paige stated, joining Rory, the two of them now visible from Alice’s window.

  ‘No, I told you, never that way. Oh, he tried and we stayed close because he was the only bloke in town that didn’t try to get into my pants every weekend. Or maybe I left before he got the guts to try. There was a time when the boys at school reckoned he was gay. Morons! Even back then, good ol’ Aido was a sweet guy and a gentleman.’

  ‘So you two never . . . ?’ Paige nudged Rory’s shoulder playfully.

  ‘No way,’ Rory nudged back. ‘Like I said, nice enough catch, easy guy to fall in love with, but the kind best kissed and thrown back so someone else could hook him.’

  The sound of the twins laughing together warmed Alice’s heart, while tears for Nancy blurred the scene before her.

  ‘Well,’ Paige was saying. ‘I’m not ready to fall into anything. I’m only now getting over falling out of a marriage.’

  ‘Sometimes life creeps up on you, some kind of weird takes over and stuff happens.’

  ‘Tell me about it!’ Paige stooped, reached to the ground and plucked a dandelion weed, the gossamer ball kind that Matilda would find in her grandma’s garden to make wishes on. ‘I wish I’d found you sooner,’ she said, head tilted and lips puckering to blow the delicate seeds skyward.

  ‘You know what? I don’t. Being sisters and growing up together doesn’t necessarily mean we would’ve been friends, or even liked each other. We might have fought like cats and dogs; you know the saying about picking friends but not relatives. Take Aiden and Eamon, estranged their entire lives and only now breaking the ice.’

  ‘You did that, Rory, when Aiden had to ask Eamon to help get you to hospital. And while I’m at it, if not for finding you I would have gone back to a marriage I wasn’t happy in any more. You made me see how important living every minute is.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yada, yada! Listen, don’t make me freakin’ Wanda the Good Witch. All I did for any of you was pass out and scare the pants off everyone—end of story. Only it isn’t the end. You’re right. What we have is pretty wonderful—and weird.’

  ‘Hmm, well, I’m done with weird for a while,’ Paige said. ‘Wonderful I can definitely take.’

  ‘Aiden’s pretty wonderful. Okay, and weird, but he’s been ready for wonderful his whole life—and that’s the last you’ll hear on the subject from me. Cross my heart, hope to—’

  ‘Rory, don’t say things like that.’ Paige’s voice quivered. ‘Don’t ever—’

  ‘Sorry. Come ’ere.’ Rory pulled her sister into an embrace. ‘I know it sounds a bit blasé to someone not used to living with the shadow of an illness hanging over them, and while I have you in a kind of torturous bear hug, can I say, about being cross . . . Don’t be mad at Alice for too long.’

  ‘Mummy, mummy, you and Aunty Rory have to come see my Lego horse.’

  ‘Hey, kiddo,’ Rory intercepted her niece mid-stride to swing her around on the spot. ‘I’d love to see your Lego horse.’

  ‘Why is Mummy crying?’

  ‘Mummy’s being a sook,’ Rory said. ‘How about we give her a minute while you show me. Is your horse big enough for me to ride, cowgirl?’

  ‘Now you’re being silly, Aunty Rory.’

  ‘I’ll show you silly when I catch you,’ she warned, chasing a squealing Matilda along the veranda.

  The warm breeze gently billowing the curtains in Alice’s bedroom window carried up her granddaughter’s screaming giggles as she and Aurora scurried inside the house, the screen door banging, leaving Alice a silent witness to a sad sound below her window; the sobs of a heartbroken sister unable to provide the greatest gift—the gift of life.

  Making the situation more unbearable, Alice was powerless to help either of them. She had never felt so excluded from her daughter’s life, so in the way. And while she and Paige had talked over the past week, the deepening bond between sisters was a sta
b to Alice’s heart. She wasn’t blood. Her only connection to Paige and Aurora was her undying love for their mother. Witnessing the unmistakable connection between sisters only twisted the knife. She was in the way here. At least back in Sydney she’d be able to do something. To start, she could amend her will to include Rory as a beneficiary. Nancy would have wanted that. Alice did, too.

  Alice looked towards the darkening sky for the one bright star she’d told Paige was her mother. ‘I’ve made a terrible mess of things, Nancy. The girls are going to be fine. As for Paige and me, things are getting better, slowly. What else can I do but wait and hope she understands what we did was out of love?’

  Too weary for any more words, Alice pleaded in silence, a hand clasping her chest as the pain in her heart became too much.

  42

  Paige

  ‘I don’t know how to say goodbye.’ Paige’s words barely formed in her mouth with no hope of projecting beyond the makeshift altar.

  Rays of afternoon sun through the stained glass feature window speckled the floor of the little cottage to create a rainbow. According to a grieving Matilda, a rainbow made everything just right. After the informal service, the gathering would walk in solemn silence to a specifically prepared patch of nearby ground. It was a special spot in the shadow of a giant gum tree where they’d say a final farewell, where tears could flow as freely as the river that ran through Nevaeh.

  ‘I know you were weary and you’d lived a long and a good life. When you’d held on long enough to see Rory and me reunited I wondered. Had you always known we would? Were you waiting?’ Paige smiled through her tears, even though she’d told herself she would be strong for Mati. ‘You were such a strong connection to Nancy. I only wish we’d had more time together.’

  Conscious of Matilda’s presence, it was decided by all that there’d be no fuss and no sad eulogies, just silent thought for a life lost. Paige paused to glance at the framed photograph resting against the makeshift altar. Aurora had been right the day she’d told Paige that even the ones you think will be around forever eventually grow weary from waiting. If not for that photograph of a horse-riding Nancy with her little pinto pony, Paige would never have found Coolabah Tree Gully. Nancy had believed in karma, fate, and love, and it was these that had allowed two long-lost sisters time to connect, to complete each other, to swap stories, and now to grieve together.