Under the shade of the Bodhi tree, its long curling limbs spreading out above me like loving arms, I didn’t find hope within, but without, in all who shared in the stories, in the purposes and spirituality of the tree, the location and of the man who gave it all its meaning, Siddhartha Gautama—Lord Buddha. Perhaps the affinity and union with the rest of humanity experienced is what he intended for me. Perhaps he opened my eyes to the glory of a child’s smile, the spiritual connection you can find in a lover’s embrace and the sheer joy in helping another in need.
I came to India to find answers, but how can you find answers when you don’t even know the questions? Instead India gave me so much more than answers. It reacquainted me with hope for the future, personal strength, loss, appreciation for what I have, a desire to help, my goals and, more pertinently, India reacquainted me with me.
Autumn Leone 22 April, 2007
Chapter 7
Five years later – 2012
Jordy crosses his outspread legs, elevated on the kitchen chair in front of him, and lifts his arms behind his head. He thinks this gift of his sister’s is beneficial and he thereby takes advantage of it. Even as a small child he would urge Autumn to help him out in difficult situations—with teachers, bullies, sporting foes—where he needed the assistance of her silent insight. Now, as a young man, her support centres on one thing and one thing only—women. Apart from Jordy’s career in landscaping, his footy on the weekend and spending at least one big night-out a week with his mates, girls are his entire focus. Autumn, protective and empathetic by nature, almost never denies helping him out when he asks.
“She’s hot, Autumn,” he says, smiling cheekily.
Autumn rolls her eyes at her mother, who concurs with an impatient shake of the head.
“Aren’t they always hot, Jordy?”
“Yes. Many, many hot women in my path.”
Autumn can’t doubt it. Her brother is an attractive man, so she has been told. He’s tall and fit, thanks to his love of sport. He possesses the same palest blue eyes both he and Autumn inherited from their mother and is adept at turning on the charm, as and when required.
“So what do you want me to do this time?” Autumn asks.
“She works as a real estate secretary. All I want is for you to go there with me Saturday morning when I pay my rent and touch her.”
“And?”
“And see if she likes me?”
“Why don’t you grow some courage and ask her out. Find out the old-fashioned way. You know, how normal guys do it.”
He shifts his legs again, crossing the left now over the right. “But I’m not normal am I? I have a sister who can read people’s thoughts. Why waste my time with rejection if I don’t need to.”
“Mum, can you tell him to stop it?” she pleads. “I’m not going to the real estate to feel some random girl, who may or may not even have thoughts about Jordy.”
“That’s enough, Jordy. You are twenty-three years old, a good looking young man, ask her out yourself.”
He stands now, towering over Autumn and her mother in stature and picks a roasted potato from the pan his mother has, moments ago, pulled from the oven. He bites half off. “Why should Autumn get to keep her abilities all to herself? It’s selfish. She should share it with her wonderful, younger brother.”
Mrs Leone rolls her eyes and walks out of the kitchen, not getting into the discussion which arises time and time again, to retrieve her husband from the lounge room to join them for dinner.
With his mother out of ear shot, Jordy says to Autumn. “Do you know how hard it is to get laid? Oh, I forgot, of course you don’t, you’re so inundated with opportunities you knock them back left right and centre.”
“Oh, don’t be so obscene. Why talk like that?”
He shoves the other half of the potato into his mouth. “Because I know it pisses you off, like what you’re doing to me now.”
Autumn sighs, throws her hands into the air. “Fine. I’ll go. But she better be worth it. She better not be some fake-breasted, dumb bloody thing that you are only planning to sleep with a few times.”
He hugs his sister with his long arms, encircling her body completely. “I promise this one’s different. She does have big kahunas though, but I promise they’re real. At least I think they are.”
Autumn pushes him away. “Pick me up on Saturday. Not too early either.”
He grins and nods his head. “I really don’t know why you put so many restrictions on this ability of yours. God, what I could do with it.”
“Believe me, the novelty wears off quickly.”
He shakes his head. “Not for me. I’d be messing with people left right and centre.”
“Yeah, you would. But I’m not like you.”
“You should be. You might actually enjoy yourself from time to time.”
She thrusts her hands on her hips and looks square into his eyes. “I have fun.”
He snorts. “Yeah, right.”
When everyone is seated and all the dishes of roast pork, potatoes, carrots, peas, pumpkin and gravy are gathered on the table, Autumn scoops a healthy portion onto her plate and begins to relax. In her father’s presence, her gift isn’t spoken of. A rule Jordy knows well and, through experience, has learned to abide by.
“So where’s Matt tonight?” asks her father as peels the glasses from his nose and places them on the table beside his plate.
“Dad. Matt and I broke up weeks ago.”
He looks at his wife, eyebrows arching high. “Why am I always the last to know about these things?”
Mrs Leone shrugs. “I did tell you, Frank.”
“Well, it must have slipped my mind.” He turns to Autumn. “So what went wrong this time? He forgot to buy you flowers for Valentine’s Day? Didn’t take you to your favourite restaurant enough? Feet too big?”
Autumn lowers her fork with a clank to her plate and looks at her father, eyes narrowed. “He thought it would be perfectly ok with me that he slept with four different women while he was last in Sydney for work. And three of those four happened to be at the same time.”
Frank stops chewing. “Oh,” he says. “Well, I guess that’s a justified enough reason to boot him.”
Autumn smiles sarcastically. “I thought so too.”
“Plenty of fish in the sea and all that. You’re still young.”
She shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I was going to break up with him when he got back from Sydney anyway.”
“Then it worked out in the end.”
Autumn’s mother jumps in. “How’s the business going, Jordy?”
“Good,” he says, still chewing while talking. “I’ve had to put two more guys on to meet the inflow of work at the moment. The GFC doesn’t seem to have reached me. People are still willing to have their yards prettied up. I suppose it helps that most of my clients are filthy rich.”
“What about you, Autumn?”
“Mr Stark, the company director, has just opened a foundation to counter illiteracy in the impoverished regions of South Africa. He’s flown my boss, Tanya, and a small public relations team over there for four weeks, so, as of tomorrow, I am the acting manager.”
“Wonderful. Now you’ll be able to show what you can do,” says Mrs Leone.
Autumn shrugs. “Or can’t do.”
“Oh, stop it, Autumn. You’re too hard on yourself. Where did you learn to set such high standards?”
Both Jordy and Autumn turn to their father. He furrows his brow. “Don’t you dare bring me into this. Whatever bloody standards you set are by your own determination.”
After dinner and helping her mum with the dishes, Autumn drives home. She walks through the short foyer of the unit she rents with her friend, Tae, and through to the lounge. Two beige lounges, a coffee table and a television standing on a cheap, cream flat-pack unit are all the room contains. In the dining room, Tae is finishing dinner with her boyfriend, Jace, and a couple of his friends.
“Hi guys,” sh
e says.
“How was your dinner?” asks Tae.
“My brother was annoying, my father insisted on awkward conversation and my mother tried to keep the peace. But besides that, the food was good.”
“The usual Leone night-in then, hey?”
Autumn laughs. “Yep. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a DVD. “This is that DVD my brother said you’d like,” she says to Jace. “Some cage fighting thing.”
“Cool.”
She hands it to him and he takes it from her, his index finger brushing against the palm of her hand. With that split second of contact she is thrust fresh pictures direct from his mind’s eye. What she witnesses churns her stomach: an image of Autumn in her room, completely naked after stepping out of the shower. The film continues to play, with her pulling her underwear on, her pyjamas. Then to follow is an image of Jace, his hand positioned around his erect penis, pulling it eagerly, that image of her held firmly in his mind and Tae sound asleep beside him.
Autumn almost gasps and she retracts her hand quickly, but reins in her reactions, knowing within eye-shot is Tae who will know instantly what has taken place. Of course not the particulars, but enough to know that what she saw was not good. She crosses her arms over her chest and smiles tensely. “He said to, um, take your time watching it and bring it into work or give it to me when you’re done.”
“Will do.”
“Sit down and join us,” says Tae.
“Um, no, I don’t think so. I have an early start tomorrow, so I’m going to go to bed.”
“That’s right. Acting manager tomorrow aren’t you?”
“Yep. I really want to make a good impression.”
“I’m sure you will, Autumn,” says Jace, smiling.
She looks at him coldly, too brief to be detected. “Ok. Well I’ll see you guys later.”
“Good night,” says Tae.
Autumn resists running to her bedroom, instead she walks briskly, her mind clouded with thoughts that swirl like smoke. Jace has watched her dressing while she was completely unaware. Her stomach churns, and she has a gagging feeling in her throat, as though her stomach has surged upwards and wants a release. Judging by the pyjamas and circumstances in Jace’s memory, it must have happened last night when she got back late from the movies. Autumn’s face burns with embarrassment as she turns off the hall and into her bedroom. She shuts the door firmly behind, locks it, and grumbles, “Bloody pervert.”
She hates knowing this kind of stuff about people. A firm believer in what you don’t know won’t hurt you; her gift well and truly defies that maxim every time. If she was unable to see into people’s minds she wouldn’t be the wiser about Jace, and life would go on as normal. But now, she is stuck with knowing that her best friend’s boyfriend not only spied on her getting out of the shower, but then went back to his room and masturbated.
In the bathroom, she is on automatic, her conscious mind deep in contemplation. She peels her clothes off and runs the water in the shower before stepping in under the soothing stream. As she washes her body, she rationalises the turn of events.
There has to be a reasonable explanation.
Perhaps Jace saw her light on and was going to ask something, then accidentally spotted her naked and, being a mere male, was unable to stop looking. All in all, men are very visual creatures and she was stark naked. Any man, no matter how good his intentions, would, at the very least, be curious, intrigued even, and she can’t expect that a young, virile man wouldn’t be somewhat excited by seeing a woman naked.
Her body shivers. Even rationalising it can’t vanquish her mortification. She bangs her fist against the tiles and mutters, “Gift, my arse. It’s a bloody curse.”
Chapter 8
Autumn stalks around her apartment, dressing, fixing breakfast, not willing to face Tae or Jace this morning. She leaves the apartment without running into either of them and makes it to work by seven-thirty. It’s an hour earlier than usual, but she wants to make a start on planning her week without the interruption of the phone, which is switched on at precisely eight-thirty each morning.
She orders a latte from the foyer coffee shop, steps into the lift, hot paper-cup in one hand, hand bag over her shoulder, and takes the opportunity to pull up her stockings that have slipped from her walk from the train station. Hearing the doors interrupted, one hand still teetering around her calf, she straightens quickly, spilling her coffee in the process down the front of her silk blouse.
“Shit,” she says, stroking at it with her hand.
“Hmm, a white blouse too,” taunts the man that is entering the lift.
An immaculately suited man is standing in front of her, magazine in one hand and a leather briefcase in the other. He peers at her from his tale-telling, butter coloured eyes and it is instant recognition.
“Jet!” she squeals, eyes wide, trying to hide the visible coffee stain down her front by placing her arm awkwardly over her chest.
The man’s eyes study her face for only a fraction of time before his eyes widen and a grin spreads over his lips. “Autumn?”
“Oh my God,” she steps towards him, balances her coffee steadily in one hand, throws hers arms around him. “Hi. Wow!”
They embrace and he kisses Autumn on the cheek. “Hi. You look incredible. How long has it been?”
She smiles. “It was 2007 so, four, no five years.”
“Five years. Wow. You’ve barely changed.” He turns to press his floor number. “Are you heading to level twenty-three?” he asks.
She nods. “I work there.”
“You do?”
Again she nods.
She barely recognised him, dressed in an expensive, black suit with a royal blue, skinny tie. His hair is shorter than when they met so many years ago, is attentively styled, and his face is closely shaved. It hurts her to recognise again how handsome he is.
“It’s wonderful to see you,” he says. “A surprise, but a great surprise.”
She nods eagerly. “It is.”
He grins broadly before laughing. “We should catch up for a drink.”
“Definitely. I would like to hear about what’s happened in your life. For one thing, you’re here in Australia, not India.”
His smile falls fleetingly from his face. “Yes.”
“Are you going back?”
He shakes his head. “Um, no.”
“You can tell me about it later,” she says.
“So what do you do for work? You were in your final year of uni when we met,” he asks.
“Um, an assistant manager, usually. But I’ve moved up a rung this week, while the immediate boss is away, to acting manager.”
“Very well done. Your time to shine.”
“Maybe. I’m certain Mr Stark, the director, doesn’t even know I exist.”
He smiles. “Oh, I’m sure you would have caught his attention by now.”
She shrugs and the elevator doors open to a silent, dim office. Jet steps out with her into the foyer. “I look forward to working with you,” says Jet.
“You work here?”
“Yeah. Intermittently.”
She smiles. “We definitely need to catch up.”
“Well, I’ll be here for the next month or so.” He kisses her on the cheek again. “It’s really fantastic to see you again, Autumn. I can’t wait to catch up.” He strides off, past the reception desk and down the long hall of offices while she is left standing, watching him. He turns the corner and is then out of sight. She takes a sip of her latte and shakes her head, unable to reduce the breadth of the grin commandeering her lips.
Determined not to let the appearance of Jet interfere with her work, Autumn’s first trip is to the women’s toilet where she fastidiously removes the stain from her blouse and then stands for ten minutes under the hand-dryers trying to dry the water mark so her bra won’t show through.
Back in her office, fifteen minutes down on time, she shak
es her head from side to side as though that will dislodge the incessant thoughts of Jet. How she should feel seeing him again? It has been five long years; so much has obviously changed in his life, God knows it has in hers. Is it rational to think he still has the same feelings he held for her in that bare, unpretentious room at the orphanage? Surely not. But then again, when she saw him, so handsome, so familiar, it all came flooding back to her, all the emotion and gratification, as though he had only days ago pressed his naked body against hers and made love to her with all the passion of lovers who know they will never see each other again.
A pleasurable knot tightens in her stomach and her lips uncontrollably transform into a smile. She shakes her head again. The last thing she wants to do is get her hopes up, especially if he has moved on. She does the mental maths, Jet would be thirty-two now and, odds indicate, most likely married.
Autumn logs onto her computer and forcefully focuses on her day ahead, not Jet. She starts by planning her week, noting the appointments she has to reschedule for Tanya and those she is capable of attending herself. She reads her emails and notices one from Tanya, written five-fifteen on Friday afternoon, outlining an enormous list of duties requiring urgent attention; mostly management reports and forecasts that were due—as is typical of Tanya—last week. She scrolls to the bottom of the email and nearly screams with frustration as she reads the last few lines of text.
“Sorry to lump all these reports on you, but you know how busy I am. I haven’t even had a chance to start a draft, what with having to fly to South Africa and all. Oh, I nearly forgot, Mr Stark will be in sometime during the week and is expecting to see these reports, so you’d better hop to it. Once again, sorry to spoil any plans you may have had of taking it easy while I am away.”
“Taking it easy didn’t even enter my mind you bitch,” Autumn hisses at the screen; closes the email.
“Ah, is everything ok, Miss Leone?” comes a voice from the door.
She glances up to see a sharply dressed, but unfamiliar man, early thirties, looking at her with a furrowed brow. “Um, yes, everything is fine. Can I help you?”
The Paler Shade Of Autumn Page 7
