by Penny Tangey
I sit on the ground near the toys. There are coloured wooden beads on a bit of wire that loops around. I try to push the beads so they go from one end to the other in one push. It’s pretty difficult.
Mum comes back out. She tells me that Rhys has to stay in hospital so they can work out what’s going on. She says at least we might get some answers now.
Rhys is in a wheelchair and a nurse pushes him to the lift with us. When the doors open again we are in the proper hospital. The floors are white and shiny and there are paintings of fruit and seagulls on the walls of the corridor. We walk past rooms with people lying in bed watching television or sleeping. Some of them are attached to drips. It is just like I imagined.
When we stop at Rhys’s room I have to wait in the corridor while Rhys gets settled in. I watch the nurses walk past. They all seem to know what they’re doing, which is good for Rhys.
Finally, Mum comes back out and says I can come in now. Rhys is already asleep in bed and he is attached to a drip as well. Those nurses work fast.
There are three other patients in Rhys’s room. The boy opposite Rhys’s bed has a plaster on his leg, which is held up in the air by pulleys. He is watching the television but he smiles at me when he sees me staring at him. The boy next to Rhys is asleep. I can’t tell what is wrong with him. The third person is hidden because the curtain is pulled around his bed. I can hear him groaning though, and a nurse says, ‘I know it’s hard but you’ve been very brave.’ I am sorry for them all in this room because Rhys snores like crazy. We used to share a room so I know.
I thought we would go home now but Mum wants to stay and stare at Rhys. A nurse comes around with a trolley filled with trays of everyone’s tea. All the patients get their own tray with little lids over the food, but visitors don’t get one. Rhys doesn’t wake up, but he still gets a tray. I ask if I can have his dessert, which is peaches with ice-cream, but Mum says no.
I ask if I can watch the television but Mum says no because you have to pay for it. The boy with the broken leg says I can watch his but it’s stuck on SBS. I look at Mum. She nods. I move my chair beside his bed and we watch a show about fishing then a film about a chef in China who opens an Italian restaurant.
*
In the end the nurse tells Mum we should go home and get some rest. Mum doesn’t want to but it is way past my bedtime.
In the car on the way home I ask Mum again what’s wrong with Rhys.
She says, ‘How would I know? Do I look like a doctor?’
When we get home Angel is really pleased to see us because she hasn’t had tea. Mum takes the phone into her bedroom and shuts the door. I know she is talking to Dad Ben, but I don’t get to say hello.
I think Rhys really is sick or they wouldn’t let him stay in the hospital, because on the news they are always saying hospitals don’t have enough beds and people have to sleep in the corridors. Maybe because Rhys is sick Dad Ben will come back. But then again, if Rhys is sick we probably need the money even more.
I get a can of dog food off the top of the fridge for Angel. It is no fun being hungry.
3
Rendezvous
I am running late for school on Monday and it’s only a minute before the bell when I arrive. I was very slow this morning and Mum got mad at me, which wasted more time. She was looking forward to getting back to the hospital to see Rhys. I will have to go to the hospital after school too but I am not looking forward to it. We spent all Saturday night and all Sunday there and I do not find it interesting anymore.
I stop to drink from the bubblers and when I finish Morgan is standing behind me waiting for a drink.
‘Hi, Stevie,’ she says.
I don’t say hello back. I am not in the mood.
‘I like your T-shirt,’ she says.
I am wearing my favourite top that I got for Christmas last year. It is a white T-shirt and Mum ironed a picture of a beautiful horse with a jet-black mane onto it. Some of the horse’s face is coming off, though, and every time it’s washed it gets a little bit worse. Trust Morgan to remind me of my problems.
Mum picks me up after school. We are going to visit Rhys. But instead of driving to the Frankston Hospital Mum keeps going towards Melbourne.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask.
‘To the hospital.’
‘But the hospital is in Frankston.’
‘Rhys has gone to the Freemans Hospital.’
Freemans is where all the really sick kids go. There was an article about it in the paper. I remember a boy with a big tube coming out of his chest.
I don’t want to see Rhys like that.
‘What’s wrong with the Frankston Hospital? Why did they move him?’
‘They can look after him better in the city.’ Mum turns on the radio.
When we get there I tell Mum I’ll wait in the car.
Mum says, ‘I don’t think so, Stevie.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s illegal.’
‘But we do it all the time!’
‘We’re not in Langwarrin now. The last thing I need is to be arrested for child abuse.’
I follow Mum towards the hospital, which is not like a normal building; it looks like it’s from the future. It is very big and curved. The front entrance is shaped like an enormous egg. The egg is covered with shiny triangular panes in different shades of red, yellow and blue.
At the entrance we walk past a big sculpture of three children playing with some balls, but then I realise they’re not balls, they are egg shapes too.
We walk up the ramp and through the big sliding glass doors. Inside there is a vast space of white tiles and an information desk in front of us that is also shaped like an egg. We walk over to the lifts and Mum pushes the button to go up. Even though there are seven lifts we have to wait for a long time. In the lift Mum presses the button for the fifth floor and the lift starts moving up. The doors open and we step out and walk past the nurses’ desk, which is normal and square. The nurse behind the desk smiles at Mum, like they know each other. I follow Mum down the corridor. There are colourful jungle pictures painted on the walls, lions and tigers and monkeys. It would be better with horses. When I walk into Rhys’s room I look at the floor because I don’t want to see Rhys with a big tube.
‘Hello, love,’ says Mum.
‘Hi, Mum,’ says Rhys. ‘Did you bring me the magazines?’
Rhys sounds pretty normal. I look up quickly and back down again. He seems normal. So I look up properly. There are no tubes except for the drip but I’m used to seeing that.
‘Hi, Rhys,’ I say.
‘That horse must have leprosy. Its nose is falling off,’ says Rhys.
I look down at my shirt. He is right, it is even worse.
‘Maybe you’ve got leprosy,’ I say. ‘Maybe your nose and ears and all your skin will fall off. Then there’ll be nothing to hold your insides in, and they’ll plop out onto the floor.’
Rhys laughs but Mum grabs my arm. ‘Don’t you talk to your brother like that,’ she says.
‘Ow!’
‘Apologise to your brother.’
‘Sorry, Rhys,’ I say.
Mum doesn’t understand that leprosy is funny. Rhys and I used to make fake noses out of playdough and pretend we had leprosy.
Rhys falls asleep and we just have to sit there watching him. At least he has his own room now. I look out the window to the big park outside. There are people walking dogs and a man flying a kite. Beyond the park the tall city buildings are not far away. I imagine riding Atta Girl through the park. And then maybe I’d ride into the city to go to Myer. Everyone would say how amazingly good Atta Girl is with traffic. She would be calm because she knows I would look after her and protect her from trams.
When we get home Mum and I have quiche for tea because someone left it on our doorstep. The
n we have ice-cream. Mum says ice-cream is okay for her diet. Bread and pasta and bananas are bad. I let Angel lick my bowl when I’m finished and Mum doesn’t even say anything.
I am sick of reading at lunchtime the next day. Lunchtimes go really slowly when you don’t have a group, and it is only Tuesday. I put down my book and get out my sketchpad.
Charlotte and April walk past on their way to the portable.
April nudges Charlotte. ‘She’s drawing again.’
Charlotte says, ‘I have a horse and it definitely doesn’t look like that.’
They both laugh.
Charlotte says, ‘Why don’t you go find your Grade 3/4 friends?’
They walk away. I wish I had said, ‘At least the 3/4s know their 3 times tables.’ But it is too late.
Morgan walks past with her lunch box. She stops and looks at the book on the bench next to me.
‘I love The Phantom Stallion,’ she says.
Maybe Morgan has good taste in books. Or she might be pretending to like the Phantom Stallion to suck up. Anyway, just because I’m not sitting with the group at the moment doesn’t mean I want to start a new group with Morgan. The special circumstances are only until I get my horse and then I can be back in my old group with Charlotte. If I start a new group with Morgan, who knows what would happen?
I don’t say anything and Morgan walks away.
Rhys has a big bucket of flowers next to his bed when I come in. I bet he hates them.
‘Who are they from?’ I ask.
‘Shhhhh!’ says Mum. ‘Rhys is asleep.’
I know that, and her shush is louder than my talking. Anyway, he doesn’t wake up.
We stare at Rhys for a bit, then I get out The Phantom Stallion.
‘They’re from the school,’ whispers Mum.
‘That’s nice,’ I say.
‘Well it’s the least they could do. None of his friends have even called since he got sick. I offered to bring Cameron to visit, thought it might cheer Rhys up, but Cameron was too busy apparently.’
‘Maybe Cameron doesn’t like hospitals.’
‘Who likes hospitals? That’s not the point. If you’re friends with someone you should be there for them, and not just when it’s all fun and games smoking behind the gym, but when times get tough.’
‘Does Rhys smoke?’
‘No. He just hangs around with people who do.’
Mum doesn’t usually talk to me about this sort of thing. It is very interesting.
‘Is that why he got suspended?’
‘We shouldn’t be talking about this, Stevie.’ Mum gets out her book.
The next day at lunchtime I read my book near the portable as usual. I am getting used to being on my own. It’s a lovely day and the sun feels warm on my shoulders. A sparrow lands on the ground next to me and eats some of my sandwich crumbs. Maybe the sparrow will come every lunchtime and we will become friends. He will sit on the windowsill while I’m in class and watch me doing maths.
Morgan walks past with her lunch box but instead of going back to the portable, she sits next to me on the bench. I did not invite her, she just sits down and starts reading her book, The Diary of Anne Frank. The sparrow flies away. I can’t concentrate on my book, Rendezvous with the Rose-Grey Mare, because of her.
‘There are other places to sit, you know,’ I say.
‘I know.’
‘Well why do you have to sit here then?’
‘I like it here. Why do you sit here?’
‘I like it.’
‘Do you like it more than sitting with April and that?’ she asks me.
‘April only arrived last term,’ I say.
‘So?’
‘So don’t call them “April and that”. Us three, Charlotte, Brianna and me, were friends for ages before April arrived.’ In Grade 3, I remember everyone called us ‘Stevie and that’.
‘Sorry. But they’re not your group anymore, right?’ she says.
Morgan needs to mind her own business.
‘I’m just not sitting with them at the moment but I don’t need more friends. There are special circumstances.’
‘Okay.’
Morgan starts reading her book again but I can’t concentrate on Rendezvous with the Rose-Grey Mare. She has ruined my peaceful lunchtime.
After school we go to the hospital again to visit Rhys, even though there is no point because he just sleeps all the time. But Mum wants to be there when he wakes up. One thing I have learned with Rhys being in hospital is that sick people are really boring. They lie around doing nothing.
Mum told me to draw a picture of a horse for Rhys to put up beside his bed. I’m drawing the rose-grey mare from the book. I draw a black saddle because black is Rhys’s favourite colour (even though black isn’t a colour, it’s a shade; Miss Ellis taught us that in art class, but Rhys doesn’t know anything even though he’s in Year 7).
Underneath the horse I write, Get well soon Rhys. From Stevie.
Mum sticks it up on the wall next to his bed.
Rhys eventually opens his eyes.
Mum says, ‘Hello, love. How are you feeling?’
‘Awful,’ says Rhys.
A nurse with a blonde ponytail and red glasses comes over. She says, ‘Good, you’re awake. We just have a couple more tests to do.’
Rhys shakes his head. ‘No. Mum, I’m too tired.’
‘Do you have to do them now?’ Mum asks.
‘I’m afraid so,’ says the nurse. ‘It’ll only take a couple of minutes. It won’t be as bad as yesterday, I promise.’
Rhys turns away from the nurse and looks at the wall. ‘Why is there a picture of an antelope?’
‘Stevie drew it for you, love,’ says Mum. ‘It’s a horse . . . I think.’
‘It’s rubbish. It doesn’t even look like a horse. I don’t want it.’
Mum takes the picture down and hands it back to me. ‘We’ll put it up at home,’ she says.
I fold the picture in half quickly. I don’t want the nurse to see it because Rhys is right, it’s not my best drawing, the legs are wrong again.
The nurse smiles at me. ‘Big brothers,’ she says, as if this explains everything. ‘Come on then, let’s get this over with.’
‘Stevie, why don’t you go to the Kidz Space?’ says Mum.
The nurse pulls the curtain around Rhys’s bed.
I don’t want to go to the Kidz Space. It will just be for little kids. I have nothing in common with them.
I walk out of Rhys’s room but instead of turning left towards the Kidz Space I turn right and walk down the corridor. I see a door with a green exit sign over it. I make sure no-one is looking and then I open the door and peek inside. There are concrete stairs leading up and down. Maybe if I go down the stairs I’ll end up outside the hospital. I might be near the McDonald’s and find five dollars on the ground and get a Coke and some fries.
The door clicks shut behind me as I start to walk down the stairs. The walls and the stairs are made of concrete. There’s a little landing every twelve steps and the stairs change direction backwards and forwards. I’m like a little piece of food moving through the building’s stomach. I know about stomachs because I did a project on digestion last term. I drew a really good picture of a colon. April said it was gross, but it wasn’t, it is just a fact of the human body.
Going down the stairs is like being in a secret passage. Maybe it will be like the wardrobe in Narnia and I’ll end up in a secret land ruled by talking horses. I will help them win a war against the evil queen who wants to make all the horses her slaves and get them to drag rocks around.
There is a door at the bottom of the stairs. I have no idea what I’m going to see when I open the door. I close my eyes, turn the handle and push. I open my eyes. I see big green skip bins lined up against a brick wal
l. I’m outside, but I’m not near the McDonald’s, and there are no talking horses. I think I’m at the back of the hospital. The bins smell.
I go back inside and walk back up the stairs. I keep climbing up and up. If I really was in the building’s digestive system it would be going to spew.
The problem is, I can’t remember how far up I was when I started. I try to open one of the doors but it is locked. I walk up another flight of stairs and try the next door. Luckily, this door opens. But instead of a bright hospital corridor, there’s a narrow concrete hallway.
Maybe I should go back? But I am always saying that I want more adventure in my life and this is my chance.
There’s another door in front of me. I turn the handle and push and step out onto a balcony. The wind blows my hair in front of my face so I can hardly see anything.
I immediately think of Dad Tony, and when I push my hair behind my ears I see why. A girl is smoking at the other end of the balcony. She is wearing a blue dressing gown and pyjamas with purple dots. She has short dark hair and she is very thin. Her cheeks look sucked in even when she stops smoking.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asks.
‘Nothing,’ I say.
‘You shouldn’t be out here. I get in enough trouble for smoking,’ she says. ‘They’ll kill me if they find me here with you.’ She laughs. ‘Although, I guess if they kill me it would defeat the purpose a bit.’
‘I guess.’
‘You don’t look sick,’ she says.
‘I’m visiting my brother. He’s sick.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘They should tell you. Being age-appropriately informed about the illness and treatment ensures better adjustment outcomes for well siblings.’
‘Oh.’
‘That’s why they all have a family meeting once a month to talk about me. That’s why we’re all so well adjusted.’ She laughs again. ‘Except for my dad being mental.’
