“Nice.”
“You look very pretty!” exclaimed Jallaxanya.
“You keep it,” said Pammy. “It’s yours.”
“But I couldn’t possibly…”
“I haven’t worn it for years. It was never quite my thing. I don’t know why I kept it. It must have been for you.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“No need to say anything. It gives me pleasure to give it to you.”
“Hello-o,” shouted Bandi up the stairs. “Are you people coming? The veggies are about done!”
“Coming!” replied Pammy. She ushered her daughter down the stairs leaving Jack and Jalli to follow.
“She’s so kind,” said Jack. “Happy?”
“I love this dress, but…”
“You’ve made her day just by being happy in it. What about me? Am I scruffy?”
“No. Your jeans don’t pick up the dust like my cotton shorts.” She patted his bottom. “You’ll do.”
“And my top?”
“No. Not dirty,” Jalli giggled.
“What’s up?”
“Just thinking of you borrowing something from Mr Bandi’s wardrobe. He’s one third shorter and two thirds wider than you!”
“You make him sound square!”
“Well, no. He’s not exactly fat. Just well made.”
“While I’m skinny!”
“Tall and slim and quite gorgeous,” she said pressing up to him and kissing him firmly.
***
“Tell our guests about what you do at school and church,” said Mr Bandi to his daughter. At the age of nine she was happy to oblige and kept them amused throughout the first course.
“Our daughter Kakko likes climbing,” said Jack, “do you like climbing?”
“You mean mountains?”
“Yes. Eventually. At the moment she likes climbing walls in the gym.”
Little Jalli gave a sideways look as if to say that that sounded like a stupid thing to do. “Doesn’t she fall off sometimes?”
“Often, but she has a rope round her waist.”
“I can do the hula-hoop in the gym,” said the girl.
“Your daughter is very sporty then?” Mr Bandi returned to the subject of Kakko.
“Yes. She plays football too. If it’s physical, count her in, if it’s mental, she loses patience.”
“Is she not clever like you?”
“I’m not really clever, sir!” laughed Jalli, “It’s only you who thinks that because I like insects… Kakko’s OK, but she’s not academic. It’s Bandi who is the studious one.”
“Biology?”
“Not really. He’s more into arts than science.”
“I like science!” declared little Jalli. “I am going to be a biologism when I grow up.”
“A biologist,” corrected her father. “She is my little helper.”
“But I don’t like worms!”
Jalli laughed.
There was so much to catch up on. After little Jalli had gone to bed (reluctantly), they talked of their adventures and of how they never knew when the gates would appear. And they spoke of Momori and how they were just about coping without her.
Then the phone rang.
“That’s rather late. I wonder who that could be?” queried Mr Bandi. Pammy picked up.
“Yes, they are… Really…? I’m sure… I’ll put him on. Just let me explain… Jack, it’s a consultant from the hospital, an eye specialist. He got wind that you were here – his brother works in Parmanda Park.” She passed the phone to Jack who wore a look of surprise.
“Hello. Yes…yesterday…we plan to leave tomorrow… I don’t understand…that was more than twenty years ago… really…? I see…tomorrow…? Well, it would have to be early… OK. Nine o’clock in the ophthalmology department…” he reached out to Jalli, “got a pen?” he whispered. Mr Bandi passed her a pen and a notepad. “OK. Mr. Barn, Department of Ophthalmology, Wanulka General Hospital. Nine o’clock…thank you…yes, I’ll be there… thank you.” he held the phone out and Mr Bandi took it.”
“Jack?” said Jalli, intrigued.
“He’s an ophthalmic consultant. He heard that I was in town. (He was a junior at the time I was in Wanulka Hospital and remembers my case.) They are trying out a series of new cutting edge procedures and he says he has been trying to find me for a month. He’d just about given up when his brother saw us yesterday. He says I might benefit.”
“What, see again?” exclaimed Jalli.
“Well, perhaps a little bit. He can’t promise anything, and I wouldn’t have to mind being a bit of a – I didn’t get this bit – a striped mouse.”
“He means he wants to experiment on you,” explained Mr. Bandi.
“Oh, I understand. A guinea-pig.”
“A guinea-pig?”
“We say that in English when someone tries something new on you. A guinea-pig’s a bit like a mouse.”
“Yes. That’s what he means. So you’ve agreed to go tomorrow,” said Jalli with concern.
“I have agreed to go just to talk to him. To listen to what he says. Nothing more. Anyway it’s unlikely that we can return. It will all depend on the white gate.”
“But it may be why we are here,” considered Jalli.
“Maybe. But I think what has happened so far is reason enough. It is great just to meet your wonderful teacher and his lovely family. I really am so grateful to you, Mr Bandi, for talking to my obstinate girlfriend, as she then was. Being blind was bad when I was in the hospital, but it was not having Jalli that hurt so much. I thought she was cross I hadn’t done a better job in rescuing her, and she wouldn’t want a blind boy…”
“Oh, let’s not go there again,” said Jalli, “it makes us sound so silly.”
“No. You weren’t silly. You were young and traumatised. What happened to you both was not something small,” broke in Mr Bandi. “It would take anyone time and effort to come to terms with it – even sensible and level-headed people like you two.”
“I agree,” said Jack, “and I don’t think we need to try ‘to put it behind us’ now. It was the right thing once – but now, here, I think we can really face up to things – properly.”
“You are so brave,” said Pammy. “But you are so happy together.”
“We are,” said Jack, and Jalli squeezed his hand.
Then they went on to tell the Bandis about their recent adventures, and how the younger generation were becoming involved.
At last, Mr Bandi said, “I don’t know about you, but I think I am ready for bed.”
“Yes, me too,” said Jalli. “It’s been a wonderful evening.”
“Your clothes are drying on the rail by the boiler,” said Pammy. “We can iron them tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Come on,” said Jalli, “let’s go up and let these people get to bed.”
Jalli led Jack up the stairs.
In the bedroom Jack took Jalli and kissed her. She responded quite passionately as Jack explored the dress in more detail.
“You look lovely,” he said, stroking her hair.
“Jack, I want you to make love to me. Make love to me now!”
“What, here?”
“Yes, here. In Wanulka. We have never done it in Wanulka. But today I think I have finally put an end to the hurt. I am mended Jack. What that man did has not taken away my spirit because he took nothing. He wanted me because he wanted my life, my energy, my passion. But he got none of that because, all the time, all I could think about, was you. He went away empty. He had no life. We have called him a monster, but he was not, he was an empty, weak shell of a person. Sure he had physical strength, but so does a metal bulldozer. He had no heart, no soul. And today, properly for the first time, I felt sorry for him. I hope that God has caught him up, built him up, restored and repaired him. I want him to be the person God created him to be. Full of life in his heavenly home.”
“Heaven is for good people.”
“Yes. But none of us are
good enough for heaven. God has to make us new – forgive us when we realise we need it. No. I believe, heaven is for everyone. I don’t believe God forces people into heaven, but I would hope – expect – a loving God would give people like that man a second chance – a chance to claim life. God wouldn’t be love if he didn’t. No matter how bad my children might be I wouldn’t turn my back on them – not if I loved them – and neither would God. So now, Jack, make love to me. I’m free! I have you, and I want you!”
“But Jalli, we… we haven’t brought anything to – ”
“I don’t care. If I get pregnant we’ll call him Paadi,” she laughed.
“But, Jalli – ”
“Stop talking and come here!” Jack put up no resistance. He had been aware of the scent of his wife’s passion building through the day, just as he had smelled the mood of the parmandas when they were ready to display. He rejoiced in the honour to be this wonderful woman’s husband.
19
Jalli woke. The first of the Wanulkan suns was already rising in the sky. It took her a couple of seconds to decide where she was, but then it all came flooding back. She was naked, cradled in Jack’s arms and she smiled as she recalled her intense, unfettered climax the night before. They had fallen asleep, satiated and exhausted. Jalli’s abandonment had taken them both by surprise. For the first time in her life since those dreadful events in Parmanda Park two decades ago she had experienced real freedom.
Breathing deeply, Jalli rejoiced in the familiar smell of the Wanulkan morning. It brought back the happy, childhood years with Grandma… yet, weren’t they supposed to be going somewhere?
“Jack, Jack it’s getting light.”
“Umm…”
“Jack. You said you would go to the hospital for nine.”
“Urr… what time is it?”
Jalli reached for her watch. “Five-past-seven.”
“Seven. Already? Wow, Jalli! Last night… you were really alive! You sleep well?”
“Very well. That’s how it should be Jack. I think – I know – after all these years, I’m truly free. Perhaps this morning the same might come true for you…”
“Right,” said Jack thoughtfully. “Do we have to get up? I mean, right now. I like this newfound freedom of yours!”
“So do I! Better shower though. I think Mr. Bandi and Pammy are already up.”
“They will be, with a little girl.”
***
Pammy had laid out Jalli’s shirt and shorts, nicely ironed, on the side of the towel rail. They dressed and appeared downstairs where they saw a wonderful assortment of breakfast things.
“Sleep well?” asked Pammy.
“Yes. Very well indeed. Thanks for washing and ironing my things.”
“That was nothing; don’t mention it. Now what are you going to have to eat? Paadi doesn’t have to be at the Park before ten, so he will drop you off at the hospital for around ten-to-nine. That OK?”
“Marvellous. Thank you.”
“And then I will come and pick you up.”
“That’s alright. You don’t have to –”
“Paadi and me want to know how things are. And you are welcome back here for lunch. What time do you plan to leave?”
“It’ll have to be sometime in the afternoon,” said Jalli.
“Good. So have some lunch with us before you go.”
***
Jack had never seen Wanulka General Hospital but he had had a lot of experience of it. It had a unique smell that hadn’t changed since he was last there. Jack felt the hairs rising on the back of his neck. The pain and frustration, anger and despair of that time came flooding back to him.
Mr Barn was waiting for them in his consulting room. He introduced himself and showed Jack and Jalli to a seat.
“I am very pleased to see you. If I may say so you have worn well. I was a junior when you first came in and now I am the leading consultant in this department. I’ll get straight down to my proposal. We know exactly what happened and what treatment you received from us before you left us. The damage was then, given the treatments available to us, irreparable. However we have now pioneered a whole new set of techniques to repair the kind of damage you sustained. If you had come in to us today with this as a new injury we would definitely recommend it to you. But I need to be frank. This is very pioneering and I do not want in any way to build up your hopes. We have had some slight success in restoring a tiny bit of sight in a dozen or so new patients. We have never tried it before on people who have had a long term condition. We want to try it on such people as yourself without knowing what, if anything, we can achieve.”
“But if it did work,” asked Jalli, “what is the best Jack could hope for?”
“What we are aiming at is to help your brain get a message, of sorts, from one or both of your eyes. This may mean you will be able to distinguish light and dark which makes a lot of difference to new patients. The world is not so dark and they are able to get around and some of them make out shapes – people for example. You will know where someone is in front of you. Some patients have been able to see where they are putting their hands…”
“Not actually see again, properly, then,” clarified Jalli.
“Not at this stage, no. We still have a long way to go. As I said this is new, pioneering technology. If you were willing to go through with this it would help us in our research. Of course, it will not cost you anything. We will pay all your expenses, and accommodation for you, too, Mrs Smith (he pronounced it ‘Smitt’) if necessary. We will also compensate your employer for the period you are away from work. You do have work?”
“Yes. I do. But not here in Wanulka.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Well, I don’t even live on Raika.”
“This is the bit that I still find confusing! Where else could you live? There are no other planets to hop to. We could not refer you on when you left us last time and we have been trying to contact you without success. Then you suddenly turn up at Parmanda Park where my brother is deputy warden. Mr Smith, where exactly do you live?”
“I… Jalli can you explain? It would be easier for him if he heard you in Wanulkan.”
Jalli explained in the same way they did on Planet Joh. “We do not know how it happens but we are taken around the universe. Sometimes there are portals that are open for us to step – literally step – between planets located in different parts if the universe. It must sound strange to you. In fact it still does to us! But that’s how it works. Where we live it has happened to other people too. We live on a planet called Joh. It cannot be seen from Raika. Jack is not from there but a planet called Earth One. I am from Raika. As far as I know, myself and my grandmother are the only Raikans to have gone through one of these portals – ”
“So you are here just because your portal happened to open up after more than twenty years.”
“Correct,” said Jack, “we have not been back since.”
“So if you can help Jack it’ll depend on the white gates (our portals) to be there – and that’s something we can’t decide,” finished Jalli.
“I don’t understand,” sighed the consultant, “but I’m willing to take your word for it. The important thing for us now is whether you would like to undergo this… if you can. We will need, of course, to check your general health and the current state of your injuries first.”
“Thank you,” said Jack. “I appreciate your contacting me. And your offer. And I would like to help you, but I need to think about this.”
“Of course. I think you have got the point – this is probably more about benefiting the research than about helping you. You don’t have to decide today; take your time and phone me when you’re ready… is there anything else you would like to ask me at this stage?”
“Yes. Those bits of my brain that used to be connected to my eyes. They haven’t just been sitting there doing nothing for twenty years have they?”
“No. They haven’t. They will have been
employed in other ways. That’s one of the things we would want to test.”
“So, if you, say, flood them with a signal, even an indistinct one, what happens?”
“That is precisely why you’d be a striped mouse. We don’t know. That is what you could tell us.”
“I could get a bit of my brain wiped clean of other things just so I could see shapes if I were lucky?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘wiped clean’ exactly. You would still have a functional brain zone.”
“But maybe a confused one that can’t think straight?”
“But one that can see enough to help you get around and know where things are. I am not trying to persuade you either way on this, Mr Smith. It’s your choice.”
“Thank you,” said Jack again. “I’ll think about this. I’ll get back to you.”
“Take your time. I can appreciate that this is a very big thing after so many years.”
***
Jalli took her husband’s arm as they left the hospital.
“How far are we from the Municipal Park?” asked Jack.
“A couple of blocks. Do you want to go there?”
“Let’s go to that café we passed yesterday, and sit in the sun and think.”
“What café?”
“The one not far from the main gate. It’s on the right opposite those strong scented flowers.”
“Oh. You mean the stall that sells hot drinks and things.”
“Yes. I smelt it. It smelt like the stuff your grandma gave me once. It was nice.”
“Right then, straight down the hill… We will pass the white gate, if it’s there.”
“We could pop home for a cuppa then? But no, while we’re here let’s do the Wanulkan stuff. I want to think. And I’m not ready to talk to Mum and the children at the moment.”
They passed the white gate, which was reassuring, and found the stall and sat at a table.
“Nice stuff this,” said Jack.
“It’s a kind of tea made from a local shrub. We call it ‘bru’.”
“Bru it is. Easy to remember… good thinking stuff. OK. So this is the deal as I see it. That doc has a new procedure he wants to try out on people. They’re already doing it on new cases. At first when you can’t see a thing, when it’s pitch black, it’s very scary. Back then I would have done anything just to have that darkness lifted. But now, for me, the darkness is normal. I don’t need to see shapes to know someone’s there. I did at first. But not now. I know where and who. I know if they’re on their feet or sitting down. Take that doctor. He was sitting behind a desk. He had a pen and a computer on it. The computer was on his left (my right). It was a desk-top computer with the fan, under the desk. He was sitting in front of a window which was open at the top. There were blinds not curtains – the up and down sort (they make a distinct noise when they blow backwards and forwards). The man himself was as tall as me, slim, and about fifty-five years old, I guess. He was married (or at least he was wearing a ring). He had a cotton mixture jacket, probably a suit of good quality and he had hard bottomed shoes. The chair I sat on was made of leather, rather worn. Yours was a bit wobbly…”
Ultimate Justice Page 17
