Tigers on the Way

by Sean Kennedy

  “I have learnt that over the years.”

  Thank fuck he was starting to deal with it via humour as well. Even if only intermittently. It was how we would get through the test results, especially if the result was an unwanted one.

  I OPENED my eyes to a room full of light. Dec was breathing heavily beside me, still asleep. I inched in closer to him, feeling a sense of contentment that I hadn’t felt in a while. He seemed to have turned a corner. Maybe I had as well.

  That burning-hot little nugget of anger I had been holding within me for the past week was finally cooling. I still had some bridges to mend, especially with my mother, but they were fixable. If I could forgive and forget others because of emotions being in overdrive in a very stressful time, I’m sure they could do the same for me.

  I gently stroked the end of Dec’s nose. His eyes flew open; he was a light sleeper.

  “You’re staring at me,” he said, his voice thick.

  “You’re so pretty” was my excuse.

  He snorted.

  “You want to know something, Declan Tyler?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “I think I’m beginning to fall in love with you.”

  He closed his eyes. “Fuck off and let me sleep.”

  But there was a smile tugging at his lips.

  Sleep would elude him, as the sound of our door buzzer started reverberating throughout the house.

  Dec did a half-hearted muffled scream into his pillow.

  I was already getting out of bed and pulling on my pants when Dec asked, “Have we forgotten anybody else?”

  “I think everybody who needs to know knows now,” I said. “Unless you want to put out a newsletter for the GetOut kids?”

  “Hilarious.” Dec was now dressing as well. “And Will knows, of course, but I told him to keep quiet for now. He’s good at keeping a secret, but Emma is just as good at sensing somebody has a secret.”

  “And she’s tenacious,” I agreed. “Micah, on the other hand—”

  “He’ll probably remain blissfully out of the loop until someone tells him.”

  The buzzer went again, reminding us there was still somebody out there.

  “If it’s Micah at the door, I’m going to scream,” I said.

  “Especially as he would have had to have flown in from Perth.”

  But the visitor waving at us on the intercom screen had flown even farther.

  It was our second surprise visit from Nyssa within a year.

  Chapter Eleven

  “WHAT ARE you doing here?” I yelled as I threw open the front door. Nyssa was still struggling through the security gate with her suitcase, and I ran up to help her. She smacked my hand away.

  “Ow!” I rubbed my hand, offended.

  She did, however, let Dec help her. I was obviously in the bad books.

  But I was then on the receiving end of a crippling bear hug. “You silly boy, you shouldn’t be lifting anything after an operation.”

  That was some flawed logic there, as balls pretty much weren’t subject to the same scrutiny as other surgical procedures. Even if they were still sore.

  Maybe I would have to start referring to them in the singular. They weren’t plural anymore, after all.

  “So, not to sound like I don’t want you here, but why are you here?” I asked Nyssa.

  She folded her arms and stared me down as Dec rested her bag against the wall. “How could I not come, after seeing what you two were like last night? I had to knock your heads together.”

  She did exactly that, and we were not expecting it. Dec yelped as we struggled out from under her grip, rubbing our respective noggins.

  “Are you still fighting?” she asked.

  I put my fingers to my scalp, sure I could feel blood oozing. They came back clear.

  “We weren’t fighting last night!” I told her.

  “Well, there were words,” Dec countered.

  I glared at him. “Now you’re going to make it look like we still are fighting!”

  Dec shrugged, very helpfully.

  “Look,” I said to Nyssa, “let’s go and have a cuppa, and we can prove to you that we’re not fighting anymore.”

  “Fine. Do you have any herbal?”

  NYSSA WHISTLED as she opened the cupboard where the tea was kept, and a large variety of different-coloured boxes seemed to glow from within and bathe her face in light.

  “You could open your own tea shop,” she said admiringly. “I don’t even know what to choose!”

  “You look like you packed for a sojourn in Europe,” I told her. “So I think you’ll be able to taste all of them at some point.”

  “Don’t be like that. Stick the kettle on, tout suite.”

  Dec did so, and I left them to talk as I made my way into the lounge, where I knew my donut cushion awaited. I sank into it, glad I could get a couple of minutes away to process the sudden eruption of feeling. I was happy to see Nyssa, of course, but her arrival signalled the baby-making process.

  Which I was no longer a part of.

  I knew Dec would immediately argue with me, but let me stress, I am talking about the gestating or creating or fermenting or whatever the hell you want to call it of the baby—not the parenting that would occur when the baby was born. I knew I would be a parent, that I would have to take on the role of a father—whatever that was—but right now? I was the equivalent of a useless hand to hold, if that.

  Oh my god, I would be the equivalent of Serena Joy in The Handmaid’s Tale.

  Nyssa would be working her flaky magic on Dec right now, making him see sense that the IUI should continue, and I knew he would eventually agree. Because Dec wanted to be a father so badly. He wanted to have family barbecues, to swap dad stories around the grill with his brothers and Tim, stubby in hand. I couldn’t see myself there, but I couldn’t see myself in the kitchen either. Most likely I would be holed up in a dark room hoping nobody would find me.

  It was also possible my feelings were tainted by this shadow hanging over my head. It was hard to feel enthused about the future when you were having a medical issue.

  Medical issue. I made a face to myself.

  “Are you in pain?” Dec asked from the doorway.

  “A little.” I was way past lying to him to stop him from worrying.

  He looked at his watch. “It’s almost time. You can take some more painkillers.”

  Relief washed through me.

  “Do you want me to get them for you?” He was cautious because he had known me to snap that I was perfectly capable of doing that for myself, thank you very much and how dare you condescend to me etc., etc.

  “Thank you.”

  He looked pleased that I was giving in for once; it really doesn’t take much to make him happy. I should stop swimming against the current.

  Dec disappeared only to be replaced by Nyssa, who threw herself into the chair opposite me. Hands on her knees, she stared intently into my face. It was unnerving.

  “How are you, Simon?”

  The worst thing anybody could ask me. “I’m fine.”

  She reached across and took my hand. “No, how are you, really?”

  If it had been anybody else, I would have snapped. But with everything Nyssa was doing for us, not to mention the fact she had flown from another country just to make sure we were okay, I owed her a little bit.

  “Pretty fucking shit,” I said bluntly.

  She nodded, satisfied. “Understatement, I’m sure.”

  I nodded. Goddammit, she was making me tear up. Nyssa always had the ability to get through to me. She was never really an assistant in our old job at the Triple F Festival—man, that seemed like decades ago—she was more of a life coach. And that was underselling her. Above all else, she was a true friend who saw me through one of the biggest upheavals in my life.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I have a feeling in my waters.”

  I wanted to rail at her so much, to tell her not to say shit like that, but i
t was coming from her. Quite frankly, I could believe anything Nyssa would tell me. If the next thing out of her mouth was that she had actually moved to New Zealand to become a secret agent for their version of ASIO, I would accept it without a second thought. Nothing was impossible or too out of this world where Nyssa was concerned.

  So all I said was “Okay.”

  Her lips thinned. “You’re giving me the same look Declan did.”

  Okay, maybe for the first time in my life, I had an inkling of a doubt in something Nyssa said. But can you blame me?

  Declan entered then with a tray of drinks. Two painkillers sat neatly next to my mug.

  “Did you hear that, Dec?” I asked. “I’m going to be fine.”

  “Of course you are,” Dec said automatically, and Nyssa beamed.

  “I REALLY wish you would just take it easy today,” Dec told me through a mouthful of toast when I joined him for breakfast. Nyssa was exhausted from the flight and sleeping in one of the guest rooms upstairs.

  Dec automatically slid two slices of bread into the toaster for me. “Vegemite or jam?”

  I went for Australia’s favourite yeast spread, of course. “I need the vitamin B.”

  “You’ll have to eat the whole jar to get enough,” he said, watching the toaster like a hawk.

  “Just scoop it all out and whack it on.” While he ignored me, I added in a mutter, “your balls.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he said.

  “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

  “Speaking of, how are your balls?”

  I sighed. “That’s what a guy wants to hear every morning. A request for a status update on his testicles.”

  “Testicle,” Dec reminded me.

  I laughed and could tell Dec was holding his breath until he saw how I would take it.

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  He did the same back to me.

  Before our face-pulling could escalate, the buzzer sounded for the door.

  “Who the fuck is it now?” I asked Dec, and he shrugged. “If it’s the Jehovah’s Witnesses, they’re going to hear all about sexy Jesus again.”

  “This is why we don’t get invited to street barbecues!” he yelled after me as I headed for the intercom.

  COBY STARED at me on the video screen, and after muttering a profanity to myself, I released the lock. Upon opening the door, he flung himself into my arms. “You’re alive!”

  “What, did you think it was my ghost talking to you yesterday?”

  He sniffed. “I wouldn’t put it past you to do that from beyond the grave. Your headfucking would be eternal.”

  “That’s charming. Can you let me go now, please? Your proximity is too much for my balls.”

  Coby stepped back with a grin. “Is my body heat turning you on?”

  “Gross, Coby. What are you doing here?”

  “I needed to drop off some stuff for the office.”

  I looked at his empty arms. “Is it in the car?”

  He looked behind him. “Oh! I must have forgot it!”

  “Coby, you didn’t have to make up an excuse to come over. Especially if all you wanted to do was check that Dec hadn’t forgotten to tell you I was dead.”

  Like the Grim Reaper himself, Jasper Brunswick suddenly loomed over Coby’s shoulder. He may not have been carrying a scythe, but it made the moment no less frightening.

  “Jesus, Jasper! You should warn people before you pop up out of nowhere!” I glared at Coby, a silent admonishment for him not having prepared me for this.

  Jasper pushed his fiancé aside, and for the second time in a brief minute, I was being hugged by another man who wasn’t my partner. Dec came out to see the ruckus, and his eyes widened at the tableau unfolding before him. Then he grinned and held up his phone to take a snap of me at a very vulnerable moment when I was in the arms of my mortal enemy.

  “Oh, Simon,” my nemesis breathed upon me. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  As if drawn up against their own will, my arms encircled him. “Thanks, Jasper.”

  And that was when Coby started crying.

  “Great,” I whispered as I felt one of Jasper’s own tears roll down my neck.

  “SO WHAT did you and Nyssa talk about when you were alone?” I asked Dec as we lay in bed later on that night, in total darkness. Nyssa had gone to bed early, claiming exhaustion from dealing with the emotional energies of one Jasper Brunswick, and to tell you the truth, we were all suffering from that psychic jet lag. I don’t know how Coby managed to deal with it day in and day out.

  Even if Jasper had been the nicest he had ever been to me in his life.

  Dec’s thumb stroked the bare skin of my shoulder. “Lots of stuff.”

  “IUI stuff?” I pressed him.

  He sighed.

  “It’s okay,” I told him. “Have you made up your mind?”

  He hesitated. “Yes.”

  I tried to fight the gravity dropping out of my stomach. “And?”

  “I’m not doing anything until we know the results of the tests.”

  You would have thought that would make me feel better, but it didn’t.

  “Well?” Dec asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “You don’t have a reaction?”

  I shrugged. “It’s your decision.”

  “It’s our decision.”

  “Which you’ve made for us.”

  “Until it can be our decision. Can you honestly not see the difference? Can’t we just wait until the results are in?”

  I leaned in and kissed him. “Of course.”

  Astounded, he sat back. “Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re not going to fight me on this?”

  “I’m a lover, not a fighter, Dec.”

  His lips pressed against mine again, and he seemed intent on stealing my breath for his own. When I managed to catch it, I said, “Anyway, Nyssa says I’ll be just fine.”

  “She told me the same thing. I choose to believe her.”

  “It would be nice.”

  But I could tell he was awake long into the night, just like I was.

  Chapter Twelve

  I DIDN’T have the energy to do more than send a group text telling everybody we had an appointment with the oncologist the next morning. I also said I would let them know the moment we did, and only sent a heart emoticon when they responded.

  That night at dinner, the mood was low. Mine was a mixture of fear, both for myself and my loved ones, and apathy, as I was too over it to fall back into a cone of silence. I laid down my fork and cleared my throat. Dec and Nyssa looked up at me expectantly.

  “This is not my Last Supper,” I said grandly. “And I haven’t been to Gethsemane.”

  “Oh no,” Nyssa said, reaching for her wine. “He’s comparing himself to Jesus again.”

  Dec also reached for his, probably fearing he would need it. “Or thinking about what kind of cult he’d like to start if he got the chance.”

  “I still have to figure out the particulars,” I said, “but I know it will be a damn good one.”

  “Hopefully with less suicides.” That was perhaps the darkest jibe from Dec I’d ever heard in my entire time with him.

  “There’ll be no suicides in my cult,” I reminded him. “No tainted Rite Aid. All we will drink is water and Cherry Coke.”

  Dec blanched.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll sneak in some Gatorade for you. And alcohol for both of us.”

  “I thought there would have to be some perks to being the leader’s partner. I just hope you’re not going to go all Big Love on me.”

  “Don’t worry, there won’t be any brother-husbands you’ll have to share me with. You’re the only man for me, Declan Tyler.”

  “Oh,” Nyssa said breathily. “That’s so sweet.”

  “You’ll join, won’t you, Nyssa?” I asked.

  “Only if I can bring Paddy and the kids.”

  “Of course! Come one, come all
!”

  “I think you found the only person in the world who would actually join your cult willingly,” Dec said.

  I glared at him.

  “Besides me, of course,” he added hastily.

  “That goes without saying,” Nyssa agreed.

  “Just as well.” I lifted my wine glass, glad that everybody’s spirits seemed to have lifted a little. My penchant for bullshit saved the day again. “Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted by people taking the piss, I was going to make a toast.”

  Dec and Nyssa dutifully raised their glasses again.

  “To the memory of my taken testicle. May its loss not have been in vain.”

  “To your testicle,” Dec and Nyssa said, and we all clinked glasses.

  We managed to laugh and talk for the rest of the night without fear permeating the air. At least until we went to bed.

  MY PHONE was going off all morning with texts and calls from everybody wishing me well, and I really didn’t feel like responding. Dec had awoken only half an hour after falling asleep. I was still awake, but he made me jump when he lurched and grabbed my arm, intending to shake me back into consciousness.

  “You have to reply with something,” he said. “And something better than a heart.”

  I had to agree with him. I’d also forgotten that I included him on the group text, even though he was sitting right beside me at the time.

  “Being sick is a fucking full-time job,” I told Declan as we drove to the hospital and I responded to everyone with their own personal heartfelt message.

  “Hopefully you’re getting fired from it today,” he replied, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

  My palm balanced on the headrest of his car seat, my fingers idly stroking his hair. At the next set of lights as the car rolled to a stop, he looked at me. “What are you doing?”

  “Just admiring how pretty you are,” I said.

  He snorted. But he leaned into my touch, and I felt the prick of tears that I refused to let fall. I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to be able to do this for the rest of my very long life. Maybe Dec wouldn’t even have hair by then, and I would be stroking what felt like peach fuzz along his scalp. I didn’t care, as long as we were both around to do it.