“Come here, then, Victor.” She reached for the koala by the arms and pulled him toward her the way I’d seen a chimpanzee reach for a long-armed baby chimp. The guide positioned Victor on the railing, handed him a sprig of eucalyptus leaves, and filled the visitors in on the facts about koalas. The one bit of information that everyone laughed at was how the average koala sleeps for eighteen hours a day.
“Think about that the next time your teenager doesn’t want to get out of bed on a Saturday.”
We were invited to come close and have our pictures taken with Victor. Jill pulled out her camera and snapped a shot of me with my arm around the oblivious fellow while he munched on leaves with his eyes half shut. I couldn’t believe how soft he was. I’d heard a mom call her little girl a “cuddly koala” on one of our earlier bus rides, and now that phrase had more meaning. This little guy was irresistibly snuggly.
Jill took her turn for the picture. I snapped three from different angles. A startling sound made us stop and look around.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Kookaburra,” the park guide said. “It’s a bird with a loud call.”
“Sounds like a donkey,” Jill said.
“You’ll find the kookaburras in the aviary by going left on the trail through the park.”
“What about the kangaroos?” I asked.
“Keep to the right on the trail.”
We set off and found a sign at the trails’ intersection. Arrows pointed to our options of animals to visit. I read the list aloud. “Wallabies, dingoes, emus, wallaroos, wombats … here we are. Grey kangaroos. This direction.”
“This seems unreal, doesn’t it?” Jill asked.
“What do you mean?”
“All these animals! It’s hard to believe they’re real.”
“You just touched a koala bear,” I said.
“I know. But the sign could point us to the unicorn pen, and I’d believe there was such a thing as a unicorn.”
I knew I’d feel the same way the moment I saw a real, live kangaroo up close. Kangaroos always seemed mythical to me. I didn’t know if it was the concept of the built-in front pocket, which any mother could make good use of, or if it was the way they hopped. All I knew was that, according to the sign, if we stayed on this path, we would come face-to-face with a real, live kangaroo.
A fence and a low gate with a simple latch enclosed the kangaroo area at the wildlife park. Jill lifted the latch, and we entered a dirt area that was partially shaded. To my delight, a kangaroo about two feet tall came hopping over.
I chortled. “It’s a kangaroo!”
“What were you expecting?”
“It’s hopping! Look! It’s a hopping kangaroo.”
“That’s what they do, Kathy.”
“I know, but this is my unicorn, like you were just saying. I can’t believe it’s real and that they let us come into this area with them. Hello, little guy. You are so cute. You know I have food, don’t you?”
When we bought our entry tickets to the park, we had also purchased two bags labeled “kangaroo food.” I opened my bag and looked inside to see what kangaroos liked to eat.
“Cheerios? Jill, look! The kangaroo food is Cheerios! Do you know how much I’ve missed Cheerios since we left California? I can’t believe the kangaroos get to eat Cheerios!”
“Maybe it isn’t really Cheerios.” Jill sniffed the contents of her kangaroo food bag. “Maybe it just looks like Cheerios.”
“It smells like Cheerios.” I held a small amount in my hand and smelled the round o’s.
“Kathy, you’re not going to eat them, are you?”
“Why not? They’re Cheerios.”
“You don’t know that. Not for sure.”
My mouth was just an inch from my handful of Cheerios. My tongue slid over my lower lip, oh so willing to connect with one of the tiny o’s.
“Kathy, don’t do it!” Jill squealed. “You should see yourself! You look so funny. Even if those are Cheerios, you don’t know where those little o’s have been.”
I pulled back my tongue. “You’re right.”
While we carried on our Cheerios debate, the kangaroos in the open area were slowly hopping toward us. I looked down, and one fellow was checking around my feet for any dropped treats.
“Put some in your hand, and see if he’ll eat out of your palm.” Jill reached for the camera.
“What if he bites the hand that feeds him?”
“Then I’ll take a nice close-up shot for the insurance claim.”
“I don’t see you sticking your hand out here.”
“Somebody has to take the pictures.”
The patient little kangaroo looked up at me with the most adorable doe eyes I’d ever seen. The long, innocent lashes seemed to be batting at me, pleading for me to share my precious Cheerios.
“Hello,” I said to the unafraid kangaroo. “Or should I say, g’day?”
He rose to his full height and came up to my hip.
“Are you hungry? These are Cheerios, you know. Do you like Cheerios?”
“They’re not Cheerios,” Jill said.
“Don’t listen to her. I know Cheerios when I see them. And you are so cute I’m going to share my Cheerios with you. Here.”
He put out his small paws so that they held steady my hand. With a flick of his long, dry tongue, this real, live kangaroo ate out of my hand.
I laughed with glee. “His tongue tickles! Look at him! He is so adorable! I want to take him home with me!”
Another kangaroo rose from the shade and hopped over on feet the size of baby-sized water skis. I laughed again. I couldn’t help it. These guys were irresistible. Their ears stood straight up, flicking, listening, picking up every sound.
The other kangaroo joined the littler one, and the two of them peaceably ate together from my hand.
“Here you go. Hang on. Let me get some more. Jill, you have to feed one of them. They are so sweet.”
“I’ll feed this one,” she said, as a larger kangaroo came bounding our way. It was about three feet away when Jill let out a soft squeal. “Kathy, look! This one has a baby. In her pocket!”
I thought I was going to cry, I was so happy. The image of that mama kangaroo hopping over to us and standing mere inches away with her little joey popping out of her pouch had to be one of the most amazing things I’d ever seen.
Jill giggled.
I was right with her. “I can’t believe you’re real,” I said to the kangaroos. It was as if a fairy tale had come true before my eyes.
Jill’s infectious laughter filled the air. The unafraid kangaroos came closer, their big eyes looking up at us with curious blinks. The joey stuck one arm out of his mama’s pouch, then the other, and twisted around, as if trying to look up into our faces. The first kangaroo rested his tiny paw on my leg, the way a toddler reaches to feel the security of his mother beside him.
The delight of that moment imbedded itself in my mind as sweetly and as permanently as the memory of my first kiss.
I touched the soft fur of the steady fellow and whispered, “You’re real.”
Much later that same night when I arrived home, Tony said he wanted to hear all about our trip. My conversation kept returning to the kangaroos.
“You really liked those magical marsupials, didn’t you? Or was it the Cheerios you were really crazy about?”
I threw a pillow at him. “You would have been proud of me. I didn’t eat any of the kanga food. I thought about it, but I didn’t snatch a single o. I couldn’t once I saw those darling faces with those big eyes looking up at me.” I demonstrated with my best kangaroo expression.
Tony smiled. “I love it when you’re like this.”
“Like what?”
“Full of life. Happy.”
“Do you really want to see me full of life? Then let’s go to Australia. You and me. What do you think?” I snuggled up to Tony.
“You just want to go back and see your kangaroo pals.”
<
br /> “Yes, and other parts of the country. The concierge at the hotel told us we needed to come back in the winter to go skiing in the south. He said the season opens in June. Isn’t that crazy? Skiing in July? That’s too late for us, though, because we’ll be back in California by then.”
“Maybe,” Tony said.
“What do you mean maybe?” I watched his expression closely to make sure he wasn’t joking around.
“I put my name in today for another project. It doesn’t mean I’ll get it, and it doesn’t mean I’ll take it if it’s offered. We had a big meeting this morning. Walter announced his next production and gave all of us a chance to put in for specific positions before the studio goes public with the project.”
“What’s the film?”
Tony smiled but kept his lips sealed. I knew that meant that if he told me he would have to kill me. Insiders are very loyal in his industry when it comes to not releasing information on a film before the studio is ready to issue a press release. Anyone who slips and divulges information is treated like an infidel and is kept out of the loop on further industry disclosures.
“What do you think?” Tony asked.
“If you have the chance to take the job and you really want it, then take it, Tony.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I know it was hard for you when we first got here. You’ve done a great job of making the best of it. I don’t want to put too much of a strain on you.”
“You’re not. I’m okay with staying. Really.”
Tony scratched the back of his neck and looked at me as if to say, “Who are you and what have you done with the wife I brought over here with me?”
“I thought you wouldn’t like the idea because it would mean staying here longer, and if you’re eager to go back to school, it could slow down that process.”
“It might. Or I might be able to take classes here. I don’t know. I’m not worried about that right now, Tony. What matters the most to me is that you have a chance to pursue some of your dreams. My turn will come.”
Something inside of me felt that was true. That’s the only way to describe what I was feeling. I didn’t know how to express it. In my heart, I knew that God was extravagant with His love and His gifts to His children. I also knew that this was a time for me to be extravagant with my husband by giving him all the freedom he needed to pursue this next opportunity. It felt right.
Tony didn’t seem to know what to say, but it didn’t matter. What followed were lots of mushy kisses and not a lot of words.
On Wednesday, Jill and I met at the Chocolate Fish at our usual table. Tracey brought a whole plate of chocolate fish and pulled up a chair, eager to hear all our stories about Sydney. Jill presented Tracey with one of our little squeaking kangaroos. Tracey laughed and said she would let him ride around on the dashboard of Beatrice.
“Or better yet,” Tracey said, “how about if I manage some sort of pouch on the front of Beatrice? We could tuck this little joey in the pocket on the grille.”
I didn’t doubt that Tracey might try such a setup just to watch our reactions.
“I’m so glad you’re getting out and getting on with your life, Jill. It’s a good thing. I’m sure you know that.”
Jill nodded. “I know. I can’t believe how much has changed for me in the past few weeks.”
“It’s ever since she showed up.” Tracey grinned and pretended to shield her mouth, as if I couldn’t hear her.
“I’m sitting right here, you know.”
“I know And I hope you know how great it is that you showed up when you did. Which reminds me, what are you two doing Friday night?”
Jill and I both said we had no plans.
“Then what do you think of the three of us having a girls’ night out? I thought we could go to the movies.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Good. We have a plan. Now, I’d love to sit here another hour, but there’s no telling what state the kitchen has gotten into while I’ve been chatting.” Tracey started walking away and added, “I’ll pick you up in Bea around six-thirty on Friday. And dress like you mean it.”
Jill and I swapped glances that said we weren’t sure what Tracey’s last line meant. All I knew was that I had a ton of laundry to do. I told Jill, “I’ve been waiting for another sunny day, so I can hang the clothes outside instead of in the bathtub. I’m beginning to miss having a clothes dryer more than I thought I would.”
“More than Cheerios?” Jill asked.
“Yes, more than Cheerios.”
“What else do you miss?”
“A little bit of everything, but nothing so much that I can’t wait to go back.” I was about to tell Jill about the possibility of Tony’s extended assignment, but for some reason it seemed better to wait until the possibility was stronger. I could see the two of us making plans to do something four months from now, and then, if Tony didn’t get the job, it would feel like the disastrous bathing suit shopping experience. It seemed better to keep quiet until I could talk confidently about staying.
“You know what I realized the other day? I miss teaching,” Jill said.
“You do?”
“I really do. I haven’t taught for the past few years, but after you were so kind as to play the role of the interested student at the art museum in Sydney I’ve been thinking about how much I love it.”
“I wasn’t playing the role of the interested student. I was interested. I’m sure I gave you a hard time about it, but, Jill, you’re a great teacher. I learned so much. You have such a freshness and passion in the way you explain everything.”
“I forgot I had that passion.”
“Well, the passion is definitely back. You should do something about it.”
Jill looked out the window at the water and drew in a deep breath, as if she were trying to breathe in the fresh, salty air. I realized this was the same profile I’d seen the day we met. But this time, instead of tears on her face, I saw a chin-up look of determination.
“Maybe this is the treasure you’re holding in your hand,” I suggested, thinking of the painting we had enjoyed together in Sydney.
Jill swished her lips back and forth the way she did when she was contemplating something. “No,” she said after a moment. “This isn’t it. Feeling the passion for teaching is a good thing, but this isn’t the treasure I hold in my hand.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Not yet.”
“I almost forgot.” I reached into my purse and pulled out a card-sized envelope. “It’s not exactly a treasure by any means, but I do have a little something for you. Here.”
Jill looked at the envelope. “You’re not going to believe this, but I have a card for you, too.”
We exchanged envelopes, and I opened mine first. On the front of the homemade card Jill had doodled an adorable mama kangaroo. She had bright pink lips; long, flippy eye-lashes; and a broad Manly Beach hat on her head. In her pouch was a box of tissues.
Inside Jill had written, “Thanks for showing up when you did, Kathy. You have no idea how much I appreciate you. I have thanked God a million times for you and the sunshine of your friendship. If you ever need me for anything, just say the word, and I’ll be there in one big kangaroo hop.”
“I love it, Jill. Thank you.” I flipped back to the kangaroo doodle on the front and smiled. “This is so cute.”
“I considered adding Cheerios,” Jill said dryly. “But I was afraid you’d try to lick them off the paper.”
“Very funny.”
As Jill opened my envelope, I felt compelled to apologize. “Now remember, I’m not an artist like you.”
“I’m not an artist,” Jill said quickly.
“Yes, you are! Look at this. I could never draw like this.”
“I’m a doodler, Kathy. Not an artist.”
“Doodling is art.”
She pulled my card out of the envelope. “And so is this! How fun! The feathers!”
“Of course. Although they did look a little more artsy in your hair than here on paper.”
“That’s because I’m not an artist. Not even a doodler.”
Jill opened the card and read my one-liner aloud. “ ‘Sisterchicks of a feather sip lattes together!’ How perfect!”
“I hope I managed to glue the two feathers at the right median and interpose the best ratio balance for the canvas.”
Jill cracked up. “You were listening.”
“Told you I was. If an art appreciation class doesn’t open up for you to teach, I think you should consider leading art appreciation tours. I’d be the first to sign up.”
“Now that sounds like fun. How about art tours to Paris? They have that big Louvre, you know.” Her twinkling-eyed expression made it clear that she thought she was flinging out the wildest of all possibilities.
I wasn’t ready to scale it down. “Why not? You have the time, the expertise, and you love to travel. There’s no reason you shouldn’t lead art appreciation tours to Paris.”
Jill looked as if a whirlwind of possibilities was about to sweep her up and transport her to an exotic locale.
I knew that feeling.
Friday morning I asked Tony if he had heard anything new on the job opening. He said, “Mad Dog thinks they hit a judder bar with the finances. Nothing new. Happens all the time.”
“Wait. What did you say? They hit a what?”
Tony thought back on what he had said. “Oh, a judder bar.”
“And what is a judder bar?”
Tony smiled and wheeled his bike toward the door. “Haven’t you heard that one around here yet? That’s what the guys at work call a speed bump. I gotta go, Kath. I love you.”
I kissed him as he flew out the door and called out, “Make sure you don’t hit any judder bars!”
I had some wet laundry ready to hang on the line, and the morning sunshine motivated me to jump on the chore. The act of standing and stretching my arms over my head to fasten sheets and shirts and even my underwear to the clothesline had become a small act of worship. I loved the way the soft breezes would come and make the clothes move. My pj’s danced without music. In a funny little way, I envied them.
Sisterchicks Down Under Page 16
