Learning to Fly: A story about overcoming depression

by David E Forrester

  Pete stood in the street, his eyes closed as he cycled through a few breaths and bathed in luminous love before opening his eyes. Pete looked around and saw that he was completely alone, but he did not feel that way. He smiled and felt more tears gather behind his eyes, but quickly took in a breath and let it out to push them back. ‘Ok, You’ve got my attention,’ he said while looking up at the moonlit sky.

  He then looked about the street to get his bearings and headed back towards the restaurant, feeling lighter.

  Pete came back to the table to see Liz feeding a reluctant Bobby some kang kong, without chillies. She must’ve sent it back. I’ll do that next time, Pete thought, avoiding using the word ‘should’.

  Liz glared up at Pete as he approached the table, her bad mood made worse by being abandoned to deal with a recalcitrant Bobby. But then her glare changed to a look of curiosity as Pete came closer to the table.

  ‘Hey Bobby, let’s give Mummy a bit of a break. Come with Daddy across the street to that café we went to for lunch the other day and get an egg tart. Then we can go for a walk to look at the boats by the river. What do you say?’ Pete asked.

  Bobby looked up and smiled. ‘Yay, egg tart!’ he replied, stepping off his chair.

  Liz looked up at Pete disapprovingly, but that quickly faded as she looked into his eyes and again saw something different. He gave Liz a smile as he reached down to pick up Bobby.

  ‘And tomorrow, we can go to the pool or the beach and maybe even have lunch by ourselves while Mummy goes for a massage and does some shopping,’ Pete added enthusiastically.

  Liz looked up at Pete affectionately and he winked as he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Take your time and eat. We’ll be back in about half an hour.’ He made his way to the door, reminding himself that he will start acting on his love as well as feeling it.

  27

  Real friends, part 2

  ‘Hi Pete, thanks for coming out at such short notice,’ Roger said as Pete sat down next to him at the bar.

  ‘No worries, mate. Anytime,’ Pete replied.

  ‘I hope I haven’t interfered with Liz’s reproductive cycle or anything like that,’ Roger said, trying to smile.

  ‘Nah, Rog, I’m not on for a while yet. But what’s up? You look more miserable than usual,’ Pete observed.

  ‘Wow, invite a guy out for a drink and he insults ya,’ Roger retorted, a little hurt.

  ‘Sorry Rog, I was just being honest. Seriously, what’s up?’ Pete asked sincerely.

  ‘Ah, Cheryl and I got into it big time tonight and I needed to get out of the house,’ Roger explained.

  Pete hunched over the bar beside his friend. ‘What about?’ he asked.

  ‘The usual thing, my health. She bought me one of those bloody Fitbits for my birthday. It’s even programmed to start beeping its head off if I’m not walking enough,’ Roger complained.

  Pete stifled a laugh. ‘It’s your birthday, Rog? I didn’t know, otherwise I would’ve bought you something.’

  ‘Thanks, but don’t bother, I don’t like making a big deal of it. And I think I’ve had enough of presents for this birthday,’ Roger lamented.

  ‘You don’t have to wear the thing if you don’t want to,’ Pete said.

  Roger let out a sigh and answered, ‘That’s the thing, Cheryl threatened to divorce me if I don’t.’

  Pete looked at Roger sympathetically and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Aw Rog, I’m really sorry to hear that,’ he said sincerely and then signalled the bartender. ‘Well it’s your birthday and I’m going to buy you a drink. So, what’ll you have?’

  ‘Black Cock whiskey, I’m feeling ironic,’ Roger said miserably.

  ‘One Black Cock whiskey and one of the house reds please mate,’ Pete said.

  Pete thought carefully about what he should say next. While he wanted to be understanding towards Roger, he knew that, in her own way, Cheryl was just being a caring wife. ‘Is this the first time Cheryl’s used such a crappy ultimatum?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, we’ve argued before, but never like this,’ Roger replied.

  ‘Sounds serious then,’ Pete observed.

  The barman came over with their drinks and instinctively knew that Roger was the one who wanted the whiskey. ‘Gentlemen, would you like to pay for those now or open up a tab?’

  Pete looked at Roger, who grunted. ‘Set up a tab, please,’ Pete said reaching for his wallet.

  ‘OK then,’ the bartender said, handing Pete a marker in exchange for his credit card.

  Pete turned to Roger with his glass in hand and Roger held up his shot glass. Before Pete could offer a birthday toast, Roger jumped in, ‘Here’s to the nerds that keep coming up with new ways for wives to torture their husbands. First, it was the mobile phone, so that they can always reach us, then it was the Find Friends App, so that they can always find us, and now it’s the Fitbit, so that they can always measure us. To male castration.’

  Pete winced at the thought and touched glasses with Roger, who drained his whiskey in one gulp and banged the shot glass on the bar. The bartender quickly came over to refill Roger’s glass as Pete sipped his wine.

  There were a few seconds of quiet before Pete asked, ‘You watch the last leg of the Bledisloe Cup?’ Pete waited another second for an answer, but Roger was silent. ‘I can’t believe the Wallabies lost. They were ahead and only had to hold on to the ball for a few minutes. But what do they do? Kick the bloody ball and give up possession to the All Blacks. It was all over after that,’ Pete moaned.

  ‘Yeah, you owe me two hundred bucks for that by the way,’ Roger said, perking up a little as he sipped his whiskey.

  Pete nodded and opened his wallet, but Roger waved him off. ‘Nah, keep it. Donate it to the ARU to help hire a decent coach for the World Cup next year,’ Roger said chuckling.

  Pete smiled. ‘Yeah, we definitely need one. I’m glad Ewen McKenzie’s resigned after that balls-up,’ Pete responded.

  Roger smirked and quipped, ‘Maybe you should bring back Robbie Deans?’

  ‘Why, so we can lose to you guys in the semi-finals like we did back in 2011?’ Pete took a sip of his wine.

  ‘Well it was in New Zealand, so you couldn’t expect Dingo Deans to betray his countrymen,’ Roger said with growing amusement.

  Both of them smiled broadly as they pondered their common love – rugby. Pete decided to take advantage of Roger’s improved mood. ‘So, what colour’s this wristband, pink?’ he asked lightheartedly.

  Roger took another sip of his whiskey and replied, ‘Black. As if that makes a difference.’

  After a brief pause, Roger asked, ‘Pete, how do you do it? You and Liz just celebrated your tenth wedding anniversary and you seem as happy as a pair of larks.’

  ‘What gives you that impression?’ Pete said.

  ‘Well you’re trying for another kid, right? I remember at our tenth wedding anniversary, Cheryl and I were practically counting down the days till May headed off to university, so we could stop pretending for her sake,’ Roger said.

  Pete smiled ruefully. ‘Hell, Rog, things were so rough between me and Liz after my big night out at the casino and then my you know what, that she shipped me off to a shrink, made me go gluten-free and dragged me by the ear back to church,’ Pete responded.

  Roger raised his eyebrows. ‘Church? You’re full of surprises every time I see you lately, Moggy.’

  ‘I was a lapsed Christian for a while, but things have changed recently for certain reasons. So I’m back to being quietly Christian. Does it make a difference?’ Pete asked, a little nervous.

  ‘Nah, as long as you stay quiet,’ Roger cautioned gently and continued sipping his whiskey.

  ‘Will do,’ Pete replied and after another short pause decided to get straight to it. ‘Seriously, Rog, what brasses you off so much about this Fitbit?’

  ‘It’s like Cheryl’s saying I’m fat and rubbing my face in it. Hell, I know I’m freaking fat, I see it in the mirror ev
ery morning.’

  Pete took on a conciliatory tone and said, ‘Rog, I say this as a friend, mate. You should be worried if Cheryl stopped nagging you about your health.’

  Roger gave Pete a sceptical look. ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Because one of the very few things I know about women is that the moment they stop nagging, is the moment they stop caring,’ Pete answered.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right,’ Roger said with less scepticism.

  ‘Anything else that makes you angry about the “Fatbit”, other than it not being pink?’ Pete asked sarcastically.

  Roger smiled, but his expression turned serious as he replied, ‘I guess it’s like I said. I think Cheryl’s increasingly trying to control me,’ he complained.

  ‘Only because she cares, mate. Just keep the thing from beeping and it’ll probably keep her from nagging you. Think of it as an early-warning system,’ Pete joked.

  Roger’s smiled broadened and he said, ‘When you describe it like that, it does sound like a present.’

  Pete and Roger both laughed heartily, and Roger quickly drained his glass. ‘I guess I’d better get back home and try and salvage what’s left of my birthday then. Who knows, I may even get some make-up sex out of it.’ Roger had a thought. ‘Hey, maybe I’ll wear the “Fatbit” and measure how many calories I burn,’ he said, smiling and patting Pete on the shoulder.

  Pete chuckled and then suggested, ‘You could even say you need to test if it’s working.’

  Roger beamed. ‘Hey, I like that. I think I’ll even use it,’ he said getting up from the bar. ‘Seriously Pete. Thanks a lot for tonight, bro. I really needed it,’ he said sincerely. Then to Pete’s surprise, Roger put one arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

  ‘No worries, Rog. Anytime. And happy birthday,’ Pete added as Roger was walking away.

  Roger turned back to wave to Pete and then kept walking out of the bar. Pete signalled the bartender for the bill. Yeah, being a real friend feels pretty damn good, he thought.

  28

  Riding the barrage

  Where did his speed come from all of a sudden? Pete asked himself between pants. We’re both getting older, but while he’s getting better, I’m just getting…older, Pete said to himself, redoubling his efforts to catch up with Bobby, who was riding his bike while Pete was running.

  Bobby increased the cadence of his pedalling as they approached the rise that would take them onto the Marina Bridge and back over to the Marina Barrage. Once again he left Pete behind. Liz really owes me one. She’d better ace that exam she’s studying for, Pete thought, puffing.

  Crap, thought that slope would slow him down a little, but it didn’t even dent his momentum. Imagine how fast he’ll be going when I take that seat up, again, Pete thought with a mixture of pride and concern for his burning legs.

  As they reached the centre of the bridge, Pete felt a breeze and slowed a little to take in the sight of the oddly-shaped domes of Gardens by the Bay and the card-deck-shaped MBS Hotel and Casino. These structures had overtaken the Merlion as the icons of Singapore and brought with them a tourism boom. The Singapore government does things that make both dollars and sense, he thought.

  Pete then turned to see that Bobby had surged further ahead. He began to sprint. Bobby slowed down and came to a stop at the bottom of the slope on the other side of the bridge as he was unsure of where to go next.

  ‘Hey Bobby…thanks for waiting for me,’ Pete said breathlessly.

  Pete stood with his hands behind his head catching his breath. After a while, he asked, ‘What do you say we head for some satay?’

  ‘But Mummy said we shouldn’t have any food before dinner,’ Bobby replied.

  ‘It’s OK, we’ll just have a few sticks. It’ll be our little secret, OK?’ Pete grinned mischievously, and Bobby returned the grin in kind.

  They took off and headed along Marina Bay to Satay by the Bay. As they entered the food court, Pete smelled the familiar smell of burning charcoal. The hawker centre was not yet busy as it was late afternoon and the satay stalls had only just finished burning down their charcoal to embers. Pete went over to his favourite satay stall and ordered and paid for half a dozen chicken satay sticks, Bobby tailing him on his bike.

  Pete then grabbed some forks and headed for the outdoor sitting area, which had miniature tables and chairs set up for children. He lowered himself awkwardly into one of the chairs and watched Bobby diligently lean his bike against the table and remove his helmet before sitting down on the opposite side of the table. The sight made Pete realise just how fast Bobby was moving from being a baby to becoming a boy and he smiled.

  They both downed some water, then Pete asked, ‘So, Bobby, are you nervous about your first day of school tomorrow?’

  Liz and Pete had chosen an American school for Robert as it had the International Baccalaureate system they thought might work well for Bobby. It also meant the school year started after the northern-hemisphere summer.

  ‘Yeah, a little,’ he replied.

  ‘What’re you nervous about?’ Pete asked.

  ‘Whether the teachers and the other kids will like me. If the food will be as good as Auntie’s cooking and if they have any Lego to play with and books to read. That sort of stuff.’

  ‘Wow, that’s quite a list buddy. But don’t worry, they have lots of Lego and books. But, you’ll have to share them with your new friends,’ Pete said.

  ‘Yeah, Mummy told me that. But what if the other children don’t like me and don’t want to share?’ Bobby asked.

  Pete knew that things could be a little more difficult for Robert initially. Unlike many of the other kids, Robert had not gone to prekindergarten classes as he and Liz had preferred playdates rather than a formal class setting for getting Robert use to mixing with other children.

  ‘Well I think they’ll like you once they get to know you. Just go up to someone you think you want to play with and tell them your name, ask them theirs and then ask them if they want to play.’

  ‘But what if I’m shy?’ Bobby replied.

  ‘Do you remember when you were just learning how to ride your bike and you were scared?’ Pete asked, and Bobby nodded. ‘And, I told you that if you could overcome your fear there would be something great and fun on the other side? Well it’s the same with being shy, buddy. If you can overcome that, you’ll meet lots of nice people to be friends with and play with.’

  ‘But people aren’t always nice. Sometimes I get pinched by other children in the condo playground,’ Bobby said.

  Pete felt a little sad that Bobby had already experienced the cruelty that kids could dish out. ‘Yes, sometimes people aren’t nice. But do you know what? When a kid pinches you, or is mean to you, sometimes it’s because they actually like you.’

  ‘Really? Why would they do that?’ Bobby asked.

  ‘Because they’re too shy to tell you but they want you to notice them,’ Pete said with a smile.

  ‘That sounds a bit complicated. Why couldn’t they just say that they like me?’ Bobby inquired.

  ‘I wish I knew why Bobby,’ he replied.

  ‘But what if they don’t like me and they’re just being mean?’ Bobby asked.

  Pete knew that he had to tread carefully as parenting ethics had changed a lot since his father had told him to stick up for himself. After some thought Pete said, ‘It’s probably because he doesn’t feel like sharing or playing with you right then. He may later on though, so you might just have to be a little patient, that’s all. And do you know what? If he still doesn’t want to play with you after a while, then it would be his loss, because I think you’d be a great friend. But if someone’s being mean to you a lot, you should ask your teacher, Miss Miranda, for help.’

  Bobby nodded as their satay arrived. ‘Here you go, boss,’ the server said as he put the plate on the table. He placed a bowl of nutty, spicy satay sauce and two empty plates on the table. ‘Enjoy,’ he said.

  ‘Thanks,’ Pete replied.
‘Now Bobby, none of the sauce is for you because it’s spicy. And let me show you how to eat this,’ Pete said, picking up a stick and tilting it at an angle so that the point was resting against his plate. Pete then placed the fork at the top of the skewer and tried to drag the meat off the stick and onto his plate.

  Bobby watched his father struggle for a few seconds and then hastily grabbed one of the sticks and tore at it with his teeth. He succeeded in getting the chicken into his mouth and leaving a turmeric-coloured trail across his face. His eyes lit up with delight as he tasted the sweet and salty satay.

  ‘Or you could just do that,’ Pete said with a sigh, thinking, I guess we’ll be visiting the toilet to wash the evidence off your face.

  Pete and Bobby quietly chewed for a while before Bobby asked curiously, ‘So what’s Miss Miranda like?’

  Pete smiled as he thought back to their meeting with Bobby’s teacher during their school visit. ‘She’s very tall. Taller than me in fact. And quite pretty. She also seems really nice. I think you’ll like her,’ Pete said.

  ‘Do you like her?’ Bobby asked innocently.

  ‘I like her as your teacher and I think that you’ll learn a lot from her,’ Pete said a little defensively.

  ‘Were you nice to her when you met her?’ Bobby asked.

  Pete chuckled and then said, ‘Bobby, I was nice to her because it’s the polite thing to do. And for some reason, parents always feel the need to impress their children’s teachers.’

  Bobby accepted his father’s explanation and reached for another satay stick. He tore at it with his teeth like he had the first and Pete sighed, picturing himself holding Bobby over a sink in a public toilet trying to scrub the turmeric off his face.

  ‘Daddy, Mummy says that I have to go to school to learn more, but I don’t want to go and leave Mummy alone. I think she’ll get lonely,’ Bobby said.