by Andrew Daddo
‘Yeah, yeah! Keep your knickers on. I’m just grabbing a coffee.’
‘Dad. Come on!’ And then I saw Lotus. Her kaftan was billowing behind her as she walked from the training and yoga centre towards the main building. ‘Dad, we’ll get sprung!’ But she didn’t stop there. She turned towards the staff house without breaking her stride. She was on a mission – and it looked as if it was to nail us. ‘Dad! Fat flower at twelve o’clock. Move it! You’ll get us busted!’
Her lips were pressed together and she was frowning. Maybe all that talk about the digestive system had her going.
‘See you, Dad!’ I hissed. I was on my hands and knees and started motoring for the back of the staff building. I stayed behind the row of bushes and didn’t look for Lotus; I just kept moving. I knew it wasn’t cool to leave Dad there, but he was in advertising: he could talk his way out of anything.
Suddenly the row of bushes stopped. ‘Hmm-Hmmm.’ Throat clearing.
I froze. It wasn’t a Hmm-Hmmm I recognised. It had to be Lotus. I knew it. What would I say? How could I have been so stupid? And greedy?
‘Hmm-Hmmm.’
‘Um,’ I said, without looking up. ‘I was just, ah, looking for my ball. I was throwing it and it came in here somewhere. And –’
‘Is this it?’ It was Dad. I whipped round and there he was with a bacon and egg roll. He held it out to me gently, as if it was a baby bird.
‘Legend!’ I said.
‘Just ask me.’ He blew the steam off his coffee. It was in a giant pink mug with a lotus flower on it.
16
At dinner, I pushed my food around the plate – a bit like a TV kid in a sitcom who’s supposed to have a problem. Pasta-free lentil lasagne wasn’t going to do it. Dad tried drowning his cottage cheese salad in whipped ricotta sauce, but from the way he’d eaten around the edges I don’t think it helped. He couldn’t have been that hungry, although it wasn’t as if we’d just eaten.
Kylie was forcing her lasagne down with lots of water. While Mum was yabbering on about understanding her spiritual self, I slipped Kylie a bacon rasher I’d stashed in my pocket. She flicked a bit of fluff off it and slid it into her mouth.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Got any more?’
I shook my head. ‘But we could get some.’
Mum stopped talking and looked at us. She must have thought we were up to something, but she didn’t ask. She was chatty and excited and explained why we all needed to take little mouthfuls and chew them a billion times so our digestive systems didn’t have to work too hard to process what we ate. ‘Isn’t that right, Lotus?’ she said, as Lotus passed by our table.
‘What’s that?’ said Lotus.
‘I was just telling everyone what you told us today about small mouthfuls and lots of chewing. That it’s good for us.’ Mum was acting like the class suck. Sitting up straight and smiling away at Lotus as if she was hoping for a stamp or an early mark.
‘That’s right, Marnie. How are we all going? We seem to have settled in very well now, Mr Limpid. It didn’t take long, did it? Aren’t we glad we didn’t get our keys back so we could stuff ourselves with bad food? I can see the difference in you already. You look like a different person from the desperado who came to me this morning begging to get out of here.’
Dad grinned. ‘I don’t know if it’s the food, or the relaxation or even the yoga. But it’s working for me. All of it.’ He took a big snort of air and slapped his flab a couple of times. ‘At least, I think it’s working.’
‘Well, it’s only been a day, babe,’ laughed Mum as she ran her hands over her muffin top. I could tell she thought she was looking better, too. She just wasn’t prepared to say it. I’ve heard that people can hardly tear themselves away from the mirror when they work out in case they miss seeing a muscle grow. Mum would have been like that if there’d been a mirror about.
‘You’ll be surprised how quickly the weight will fall off you. We only need to cleanse for one more day, then we’ll get into the metabolerators and – ’
‘Metabolerators? What are they?’ Kylie was still chewing every now and then. She was determined to make that strip of cold bacon last.
‘That’s just what we call them. They’re metabolic accelerators. Get it? They rev up our digestion and make our blood pump through our body really fast. We use stacks of energy doing practically nothing and then we just vanish.’
‘Really? Even in a few days?’
‘Especially in a few days. They’re at their most potent at the beginning. Trust me.’ Lotus tapped her nose as if she had the world’s biggest secret in there.
‘Didn’t they work for you?’ said Kylie.
‘Kylie!’ croaked Mum.
Dad barked it.
‘Don’t be so rude! My God. I’m sorry, Lotus,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t know what’s come over her. Kylie, apologise!’
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Lotus. ‘It was a fair question. I’m sure lots of people look at me, all of me, and wonder how such a – ’ She puckered her lips and inhaled. ‘–robust woman can be running a wellness centre. It doesn’t seem to fit, does it? Most of us would expect the staff at such a place to be thin and tight and muscly, wouldn’t we?’ We all nodded. So did everyone else. Lotus had turned our conversation into a learning and wellness experience for the whole dining room. We’d all thought it, but hadn’t said anything, although she was massive.
‘You might be surprised to know that I am tight, and muscly; I’m just not thin. You see, this is my shape.’ Lotus patted her chest with both hands and everything wobbled. ‘It’s just the way I am. I have been a size six, you know – when I was a level seven gymnast in year 11. But once I stopped competing – after my knee gave out – the weight came on and stayed. You know?’ More nods. ‘So, yes. I am large, but I am also incredibly fit and strong. Physically and mentally. I’ve done lots of deep inner work. Something we’ll do with all of you, too. You see, one thing we try to teach here is that we should all accept our shapes for what they are. Being a skinny minnie doesn’t always make one a happy chappy.’
‘But jeez it helps,’ Dad blurted out. He was the life of his own party.
After a collective sucking of teeth from most of the people listening, one lady said, ‘I understand, Lotus. Almost all of us do.’
‘Good.’ Lotus nodded. I think she was trying to look serene by smiling and pouting at the same time, but it only made her look as if she’d had a facelift. ‘The other thing you should know about my size – ’ And as she said the word she moved her hands around her body without touching it, as if she was warming them over a fire. ‘This is my protection. This external layer is my life source. It absorbs bad energy and protects my inner core of goodness and strength. This is part of my wellness. It is good for me and it could be good for you. So don’t be afraid of your bigger selves: there might be a reason for them. Okay?’ She clapped her hands together.
The end.
We thought.
‘Now, if I were to eat, say, a bacon and egg roll –’ My heart flatlined. ‘You’d probably think it was bad for me. It’s cholesterol and saturated fat and dairy and bread and carbohydrates and stop dribbling, Mr Limpid.’ Everyone laughed. ‘But you see, that type of food could be good for me, too. For my core. Okay? Okay. Different harmonies make us dance. What’s chi for you might be tea for me. That’s a little wellness joke. Or yolk, if we’re eating eggs. So stick with your programs, everyone. You’re doing great, Mr Limpid. Just great.’ And then she left.
I looked at Dad and eventually he looked back at me. ‘She knows,’ I whispered at him.
‘She knows, what?’ said Mum.
‘I don’t know what she knows, babe,’ he said. ‘What does she know, Ash?’
I searched Dad’s face for a clue, but he gave me nothing. He just stared back at me with his eyebrows up and the corners of his mouth down. Clown. ‘Ah. Just that Dad likes bacon and egg rolls. Ah, why else would she have said it?’
‘Everyone loves bacon and egg rolls, son,’ Dad said quietly. ‘She doesn’t know anything.’
There was a trivia competition after dinner and it turned out that my parents weren’t nearly as smart as they thought.
‘Next time,’ said Dad. ‘We’ll get them next time.’
As we got ready for bed, music was pumped through the speakers in our ceiling, followed by a soothing prerecorded voice. ‘Ten minutes to lights down.’
‘Lock-down,’ laughed Dad.
‘Ooh, quick. Quick!’ said Mum. ‘We missed this last night because we were so late. Clean teeth. Yes, yes. Ni-night. Give us a kiss, kids, and into bed. This is great, you’ll love it.’ She hurried us into the bathroom to clean our teeth and go to the can, then pushed us into bed and kissed us goodnight.
Dad was lagging and she wasn’t rapt about it. ‘Leonard, hurry up, will you! Get into bed. You’ll. Miss. Out.’
The music limped along and I knew Dad and Mum would have the sheets pulled up to their necks and would be staring at the ceiling. ‘Last in bed turns the lights off,’ whispered Mum.
The voice came back to the speakers. It was the same soothing one that woke us in the morning. ‘Okay, thanks for a great day, everyone. Tonight, as we do every night, we’re going to end the day with one final relaxation technique. Are you ready?’ Right now, Mum would be nodding at the speakers. The music started up again. It sounded like pan pipes or a recorder. ‘Say, “Goodnight, feet. Thanks for running me round today”.’
17
I was floating in a clear sky. There was no up or down – just endless blue space – then wind, not much, but enough to blow me towards a small forest of flowers. The bees were a worry, but they had no interest in me. All they seemed to care about was dragging the pollen from one flower to the next. It was fun watching them work. ‘Zzzzzzzz,’ I buzzed to them. ‘Zzzzzzzzzz,’ they buzzed back.
I settled my head in the flowers, rubbing it back and forth as if I was trying to find the right spot on the pillow. I rolled onto my back and looked up to the sky. One bee, bigger than the others and with a crown and lipstick and painted nails on the end of its six legs came up close to my face to blow kisses. Such big red lips, for a bee. ‘Hello, Your Majesty,’ I said.
‘Good morning,’ she buzzed in a breathy kind of way. ‘It’s time to wake up.’
‘I don’t think I’m ready,’ I said.
‘Wake up, now. That’s it. Up you get.’ She looked aside to something I couldn’t quite see. She seemed worried, so I was worried, too.
Brrrrrrrrp! Fly spray that came out of the can with a fart noise. Brrrrrrrrrrp!
‘Noooooo!’ I tried to yell, as the queen bee tumbled out of sight. Gassed. It was no way for such a beautiful life to end.
‘Leonard! That’s disgusting.’
‘Wake up,’ croaked the queen. ‘It’s time to wake up.’
Brrrrrrrrrrp!
‘You can’t blame that on me, Marnie,’ said Dad.
I pulled my head out of the flowers and saw my pillow. Dad was laughing. There was a vague pong in the room. Maybe it was all the beans.
‘That was weird,’ said Mum. ‘I’m going to get one of these wake-up systems at home. I love it.’ She grabbed the in-room menu, studied it and laughed out loud. ‘The bumble-bee. That’s what this morning’s wake-up was called. Did anyone dream about bees?’
Kylie had her head under her pillow. Again. ‘I started dreaming about flowers and bees, but in the end the queen got gassed. It was kind of unexpected. Does that sound right?’
‘It’s your dream, pal,’ said Dad as he rubbed the night out of his eyes. ‘Where are we off to this morning, Marn?’
‘Yoga, of course. Now let’s go, team.’
Orange Hannah was there again, giving away her orange and carrot juice. She was beaming ‘good morning’s at everyone, and everyone was grudging them back – except Mum, who was more awake for this time of day than I’d ever seen her. Actually, I never saw her at this time of day. No one did.
Hannah began the class the same way as she had the day before. It was a gentle warning for all of us to be careful. If things hurt or strained or didn’t feel quite right, we should stop. ‘Yoga is not a competition, people. It’s a lifestyle. It’s an experience and it’s a life’s work – not a morning’s.’ And then it was on. ‘Inhale, bend your knees, swing your hands back and through to the front. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Left leg forward, right leg back. Split. Shift. Inhale. Exhale. Upward-facing Dog. Mmmm. Do you like that? Hold it. Hold it. Inhale – ’
I fell over. But not before Dad did.
The rest of the class was a blur of breathing, bending and falling. I couldn’t figure out whether it felt like a game of Twister or a line dance. ‘Left leg here. Right leg there. Hand up. Butt down. Dosie doe. Dosie don’t. Ouch. Eek. You’re out. No you’re not. Yes you are. Sit down.’
I was surprised that Kylie was so supple. And Mum. I was okay, but not great. Dad was hopeless.
I watched him push his food around at breakfast again. The porridge was a bit better than what we had the day before. At least this morning I managed to get through it without gagging – and that’s more than I could say for Kylie, who pushed hers across the table after a couple of spoonfuls.
‘You need to relax,’ said Dad through a mouthful of banana.
Kylie slumped in her chair. ‘I need to eat.’
‘There’s a great class,’ said Mum. ‘Spirit of the Ng Ng. It’s an introduction to oriental stuff. Relaxation, I think. We could do it together.’
‘I think Kyles needs some fresh air. Don’t you, Kyles?’ Dad wanted Kylie with him.
‘You know what? I think I need some food.’
‘Yes, you said that. But look how well your father’s coping on this!’ Mum let a gob of porridge glug off her spoon. ‘You’ll muddle through. You’ll see.’ She was being so new age supportive. I knew next time we went to the market she’d buy something at that crystal shop instead of rushing past.
‘I think I’ll just take her for a walk. I might have a surprise for you, Kyles. How long does the Dance of the Gung Gung go for?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Len. It’s the Spirit of the Ng Ng, and it’s an hour and a half. Or two hours. It might be more. But you two spending some special time together sounds like a good idea. I’ll take Ash if you like. Ash? Feel like a bit of Ng Ng?’
‘No, no. Thanks, anyway, Mum. I think I’ll hang with Dad and Kylie.’
‘Are you sure? Lotus is taking the class and she’s like a black belt in relaxation.’
I kind of wanted to go with her. The thought of being taught by a real black belt in anything sounded great, but I knew what Dad and Kylie were going to do. Dad had barely touched his breakfast and he hadn’t complained about it. That meant only one thing. He was expecting to eat something else somewhere else.
‘Ash can come with us, too. He could keep an eye out for any mischief. Hey, mate?’
Lotus took up most of the room in the doorway. She was in a white dressing gown with a white belt – I knew there was no such thing as black belt in relaxation. ‘Off to the gung gung?’ smirked Dad.
‘I’m coming,’ flapped Mum.
‘There’s no rush. We’ve put the Ng Ng off for something else. It’s special. Isn’t that what the football commentators say? Speshull! We’re all going to love it.’
Dad’s head started wobbling. He looked like a chicken and I think he clucked. ‘We were going to spend some quiet time together.’ He stuck up two fingers on each hand and made bunny ears with them when he said ‘quiet time.’ ‘Just me and the kids, while Marn does the Nang Nang. We’ve already planned something speeeeeshull. You know?’
‘It couldn’t be any better than this. I promise. I didn’t think it’d be ready yet, so I didn’t want to say anything earlier. It’s a bit of a surprise.’
‘Another one?’
‘Come on.’ Lotus turned to go, but the only one who started to follow was Mum.
Kylie piped up first. ‘But, Mum, I really think I should spend some time with Dad. Ash gets heaps of it, but I don’t.’
Lotus was back, filling up the doorway. She hadn’t got far. ‘Kylie’s right, Marnie. It’s very important for girls to have quality Dad-time. In fact, it’s important for families to have lots of family time. Together. The good news is, I can fit you all in simultaneously. In fact, I’ve set it up so you can be our first family.’
‘I like the sound of that; the Limpids as the first family? In where?’ begged Mum. She gave us two thumbs up as she backed out the door, trailing Lotus. We had no choice but to follow. Dad stuck his hands out in front of him and looked as if he was weighing two imaginary grapefruits.
‘Dad, you promised. I’m starving,’ I whispered.
‘Later,’ he sighed, going after Mum. ‘I double promise.’
We followed Lotus as she power-walked out the front door of the wellness centre and down the drive to a smallish brick house. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it when we arrived. It was like a flat-roofed shed. There were a couple of tiny high windows and a chimney pushing smoke into the air, but that was about it. ‘Very stalag, isn’t it?’ laughed Mum, but not as if she thought it was funny. Lotus leant against the doorjamb.
‘It’s not original, but we’ve done the best we can from pictures on the net.’
‘Original what?’
‘Original Estonian mudbath house.’
‘So it really is a kind of stalag,’ said Dad.
‘No.’ Lotus cut him off and guffawed as if Dad was the stupidest person in the history of wellness. ‘A stalag was a prisoner of war camp; the only thing you’ll be imprisoned in here is lovely organic mud. Everyone into the change rooms! Hop into those crepe paper undies. You’ll find them folded on the bench, and I’ll see you in the main room.’
She was kidding, wasn’t she? Crepe paper undies? Even Mum looked a bit suss. She gave Dad and me a nervous look as she dragged Kylie into the women’s.
But Lotus wasn’t kidding.
