Chapter 24
Even I realised that Tim was dawdling as Bane and I watched him re-pack his bag, rolling up his jacket so tightly he could have used it as a cricket bat. He was supposed to have been driving back to Adelaide by now because he had a plane to catch. The others had all said goodbye to him earlier and Noah and Dallmin had gone to work in the top paddock. Noah was trying to keep the inquisitive elf busy with good old-fashioned outdoor tasks. Tessa and Aunt Lily had gone into town to do some grocery shopping, since the unexpected influx of people had depleted the pantry of everything except baked beans. That had been ages ago. It was nearly eleven am and Tim still hadn’t left.
He zipped up his bag and then looked around the room as if hoping to find something he’d forgotten. Then he patted his pockets like an old man pretending to look for his glasses, but who really wanted to think of something else to talk about. Two wants. Time would sort it out. It always did, eventually. I would miss him though. He’d been fun to talk to, updating me on all the super-hero shows that now had their own Netflix deals, which new X-box games I had to buy, and telling me all sorts of things about what Bane had been up to while I was gone. Lately he had even started to let me hug him and kiss him on the cheek. And he’d danced with me. I felt a little smug about that. It wasn’t like his army mates could see him, so where was the harm?
Before he could protest, I hefted his bag over my shoulder. He needed to go. He had said so, which meant I would help him go. Apparently he had a job to get back to. The rain was beating hard on the tin roof as I strode out to the car, slinging his bag onto the back seat. No more delays, he would just have to get on with things. If he wanted to stay with us more than he wanted to be in Brisbane then time would pass and he would be back. All would be well. I locked my arms around his neck and squeezed all my affection and gratitude into a final hug, hoping he would return because I had only managed to get him to sing once, the previous evening, when Bane had shown Dallmin how to play the piano.
‘Come back soon, Tim, I have more dances to teach you. Ones you can teach Nicole.’ I smiled at the astonishment on his face. As if he thought none of us had noticed his interest, seriously. He had been asking unsubtle questions about her all morning.
‘Sure, I’ll be back. And next time I’m going to take a video of the deaf guy playing the piano. That was seriously weird. We could make money with that footage. I mean, he was freakin’ talented.’
Deaf? Oops, I hadn’t thought about that. I peered sideways at Bane but he just tugged my sleeve to coax me back under cover. So no big deal then.
Tim fiddled with the car keys as we waited under the porch for the rain to ease off. It didn’t. ‘So are you still sure about selling all your stuff? You don’t want to … think about it for a while?’ he asked Bane. The way he tilted his jaw slightly away from me made me think he would have liked to say more, but Bane gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.
‘Nothing to think about. Some things are just more important to me. Priorities, Tim. No regrets. Although I’d like to keep my guitar, if I can.’ He braved the pelting rain and opened the car door. ‘Thanks for all your help. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done. You’re a real mate. Tell everyone goodbye for me. I’ll miss them heaps.’
‘Not enough to come back, though?’ his friend tried once more.
Bane gazed at me with an expression of wonder and smiled. ‘No contest.’
Tim nodded and then gave him a quick unexpected hug before tucking his long legs into the driver’s seat. ‘Take care, Mr Botox,’ he said, starting the engine. ‘Damn. We’re going to have to come up with a new nickname for you now. Not that anyone will believe me.’
‘Sure. ‘Cos they won’t ask at all.’ He shook his head. ‘Listen, I’ll call you when I have your stuff sorted. I might even drive your car down here if you decide not to sell it.’
I laughed and shook the rain from my hair. I knew he would think of a reason to return if that was what he wanted.
Not long after Tim left, Noah’s ute rattled its way back and skidded to a hasty stop right on the doorstep. From the lounge-room window I watched Wendy jump down from the tray to follow Noah as he jogged back to close the gate, and then Dallmin climbed out of the passenger seat, blood streaking across his right hand and wrist. With pursed lips I headed to the kitchen for the first-aid kit while Bane went to open the front door.
‘Lainie!’ Dallmin called out in a loud whisper as he entered the kitchen.
I’m bleeding. There is no Fruit. What do I do? he signed. He seemed more fascinated than worried. Noah followed him in, wincing as he was splattered with fresh blood. Sign language probably wasn’t ideal given it was Dallmin’s hand that was injured. Bane wisely lingered back in the doorway.
‘Come over to the sink so I can clean you up,’ I said. ‘You can speak out loud now. Tim’s gone.’
Noah wiped his face with his shirt. All it did was smear the blood even more. ‘Sorry, Lainie, he cut himself on some corrugated iron. We were trying to clean up that old burnt-out hay shed in Skinny Paddock.’
‘Don’t apologise. Dallmin’s the one with no sense of self-preservation.’
‘Which is exactly why it’s my fault,’ Noah said.
He had a point. ‘Well you’d better go and get cleaned up before Tess gets back or she might think her instincts have become all baby-scrambled.’
I washed the cut under the tap and tried to assess the damage. Compared to what Dallmin usually did to himself, it was nothing. Bleeding like crazy though, so I rummaged for a Band-Aid, which Bane promptly chucked back. Possibly his army training was more useful for assessing injuries than anything I’d learnt in the last few years.
He pulled another packet out of the kit. ‘Let me take this one. It should really be stitched if he wants to avoid a scar but at least let me use some steri-strips to hold it. He’s also going to need to see Dr Vertan for a tetanus shot.’
It was fascinating to watch how deftly he dressed the wound.
‘Once I get him back home the scar won’t be a problem,’ I said. Now that I’d had a chance to study myself in a mirror I realised just how thoroughly the Living Fruit did its job of healing. I barely got away with keeping my freckles. They’d definitely faded, and yet I’d been in the sun constantly.
‘There, how does that feel?’ Bane asked the patient, who was sniffing at the bottle of antiseptic.
‘It stings. What do I do to heal the sting?’
Bane turned to me with a raised eyebrow.
‘Nothing,’ I replied to Dallmin. ‘You have to wait until it heals on its own. The pain is there to remind you to be careful with your hand while it’s damaged. It’ll subside eventually but in the meantime you’ll just have to put up with it. Unless you want to go home?’
Honestly, he was like a two hundred-year-old toddler. He even looked a bit sulky, and none of us replied but I could almost hear Noah’s teeth grinding. Bane glanced my way and then set to work disinfecting the sink. We all had arguments we couldn’t use and it was getting really hard to keep quiet, so to avoid starting up another awkward conversation I busied myself around the kitchen too.
As I handed Dallmin his cup of tea, I took away the magazine he was flipping through. Even though we hadn’t taught him to read English, there were written languages in Eden and he was very quick to learn. I had no doubt he would figure it out if we gave him an opportunity. Noah had already hidden the TV and all internet devices so he wouldn’t accidentally be exposed to news items or The Walking Dead. Or reality cooking shows. I had a feeling they were keeping me away from it all too, for which I was quietly grateful. Bad news stories were not likely to be the healthiest things for my state of mind at this point. But how long could we avoid the evils of this world? How long before we messed up, and Dallmin no longer laughed at his injuries? Already he looked different. He was starting to lose that carefree demeanour and looked much less sure of himself. In fact there were times, like now, when he looked downright miserable. I wasn’t surprised, but it was disturbing. I couldn’t work out if it was good or bad. On the one hand, he might decide that Nalong was too horrible and decide to go home. On the other hand I was concerned that misery would just help him to comprehend the difference between good and bad. That was way too close to good and evil as far as I was concerned.
The kitchen window curtain billowed inward, and I noticed that the rain had paused for lunch. The world looked so dreary. Wet leaves hung crying from the trees and there was mud everywhere. My heart longed for the blossom-fragrant warmth of Eden. How would I ever get used to this place again?
Once we finished our tea I took Dallmin’s good hand in mine and pulled him up.
‘Come on, it might help if you can hear the music.’
I needed the river—the brown angry river that I had loved growing up in, which now seemed a pathetic and bland reflection of the true River of Life. I kissed Bane on the cheek so he would know I didn’t need him to follow, and led Dallmin out of the house.
Slipping along the riverbank, we made our way to the shallow bend where the water wasn’t too swift. I shed my shoes and socks and plunged my feet into the icy water. Late autumn meant the river was already cold enough to shrink a person’s kidneys, but I yearned for the music. If I could have immersed my head under without Bane getting all snippy I would have. Not that he would have let it show, but both Dallmin and I knew whenever he disapproved of things. His body language got so conflicted. Like when I’d shown Dallmin the view of the property from the windmill at dawn. Apparently I should have waited until it was a bit lighter to climb up. So rather than put him through that conflict again, I just stood in the water and soaked the echo of the Garden in through my toes.
With my eyes closed I focused on the sounds of life all around me. Birds pecked for rain-brave worms, joining their song with the frogs who were exploring their freshly expanded playground. I could feel that there were fish in the river, and a couple of platypus fossicking along the riverbed farther upstream. With a tilt of my head, I stretched out my senses to feel the signature energy of all the plants and animals around me. The world might look dreary and yet it teemed with life. All the world’s creatures beat their wings, pumped their hearts or skittered their many legs in time with the music of the river. So few of them even realised they were doing it. There was even a human downstream, somewhere, tugging discordantly at the harmonies. Probably someone fishing. Hunting to kill would certainly upset the weave.
‘Keep your hand dry,’ I warned Dallmin as he sat down in the water. He was shivering and didn’t seem to care. He was listening too. I found a submerged rock and sat down as well, and for a while we stayed quiet, saturating our souls with the feel of the river.
‘I do not enjoy this place,’ he finally confided. ‘There is not enough laughing here. When I first came, I thought I would not be able to stay. I felt I would rather move across than remain, and I almost turned back. I have never felt that before. Everything was so … unripe.’
Unpleasant. Bitter. Not yet mature enough for its promised sweetness. Somehow, with his basic English, Dallmin had found the best description of the world I’d ever heard. My heart filled with sympathy. Given how much trouble I was having, I could only imagine what it must have been like for him when he’d first arrived. He did not belong here.
‘I’m sorry, Dallmin. I had no idea you intended to come. I should have told you what it would be like and you might have decided not to. It’s my fault you’re here at all, and now I’m terrified that you won’t be able to go back.’
‘Your fault? Terrified? I don’t yet fully understand these words.’
How could I make him understand what was at stake without introducing those concepts? Why couldn’t he just trust me? I had been brought up to believe that the more knowledge you had the better off you were, but I was beginning to understand how even a little bit of information could be a dangerous thing in some situations.
‘Did Annie explain to you why the people here can’t cross into Eden?’ I asked, stretching out my toes to free a gum leaf from a tiny whirlpool. Numbness crept into my ankle bones.
‘She did. Although I’m not certain I understand completely. They are not permitted to eat the Fruit because they are tainted.’
‘Yes. And I’m worried that if you spend too long here you’ll also become tainted, and will not be permitted back either. It might already be too late.’
He pondered that solemnly, sitting in the shallow current, his uninjured hand skimming over a smooth rock just below the surface. He picked it up and studied it as he spoke.
‘When I first arrived there was no food, and the air was strange. I had never felt so hungry, but then it passed and I became …’ He made his hand tremble.
‘Shaky,’ he agreed, tasting the new word. ‘And I tried to eat some leaves but my body wouldn’t keep them in.’ His face looked haunted at the memory. ‘There were no people to help me, and I was cold. I was about to turn back when I came to a wide track that had clearly not been made by animals. I followed it because I knew there would be people. Many cars passed me and I was startled. I didn’t know what they were. They were so fast. If they knocked me over there would be no Fruit to help so I felt … worried?’
Worried? He must have been scared witless. I nodded for him to continue.
‘When the man, Jarrad, stopped to help me, I was so grateful I forgot what Annie had told me about kissing without permission. He still helped me. Then I had my first ride in a car.’ His eyes lit up—a hint of the Dallmin I knew in Eden. ‘It was awesome, Lainie! And when we reached the town there was so much to see, so much that was new. Some of it was not fun at all, but much of it was amazing. There were so many new people to meet, even if most of them didn’t want to talk to me. The ones who did were very interesting.’
Droplets flicked from his fingers as he began to emphasise his story with signs, becoming more animated as his story progressed.
‘Did these people become tainted so they could understand things better? Is that what gives them such power over the world? They control food and temperature, and shelter, and even light. They can fly, Lainie. Is that what the taint gives you?’
Panic rose as I tried to think of what to tell him. I could tell him what else an understanding of good and evil brought with it. I could explain about war and murder, abuse and greed, but Nayn had been right to warn me. Understanding brought accountability. Being able to judge what was good and what was bad would mean having to take responsibility for each and every choice. Even the thoughts in your head. How could anyone possibly stay untainted at that point without divine intervention like Noah and I apparently had? It left me at a complete loss.
‘Please trust me, Dallmin, you don’t want to understand. I need you to go back to Eden and return to Annie. I won’t give you any more rules. You can talk out loud to anyone you want, and do whatever you like. I understand how much you want to fly, and so I will help you, but please don’t become tainted!’ Without even noticing that I’d stood up, I stumbled toward him as if I could just drag him back home by his earlobe, or magic him away somehow. Of course my feet were so numb that I fell over with a graceless splash.
He waded over to me, pulled me up and held me to his chest like I was a child, which to him I sort of was. It was probably the only thing he knew to do with someone who was crying, since only children did anything remotely like crying in Eden. His instincts were pretty good. I tried to focus on the river again, allowing its delicate symphony to restore my sense of balance and peace. Trailing my fingers in the icy current, I felt the life within it curl around us.
Dallmin tilted his head and watched me commune with the water. ‘I can hear the song, far away, and very soft. Does that mean this river could still heal me like the one at home?’ He inspected his bandaged hand, considering.
‘The River heals? I didn’t know that. How does that work?’
‘It heals when we touch it or drink it. It is part of the Living Trees.’ He frowned slightly. ‘No, that’s bad English. The River and the Trees are together in life.’
‘You mean they form part of the same system of healing? Like a symbiotic relationship?’ That would explain a lot, and also held some worrying implications. I had more or less tried to avoid the Living Fruit, but not the River. Had I damaged the Garden inadvertently? And were all the rivers in Eden the same? Poor Dallmin was still trying to answer my question and I realised ‘symbiotic relationship’ might be a bit beyond his understanding.
‘The Trees and the River are linked. They have the same basic substance. When we eat the Living Fruit, the sting is washed away by the water. It … pays … for our healing by travelling, travelling, travelling, travelling … Like money pays for your food here.’
Woah. I had to stop forgetting that he was a clever and inquisitive man with who-knows how many years of experiences to back up his intellect.
‘How old are you, Dallmin? I mean, how many years have passed since you became fully grown?’
‘I don’t count years, there are too many, it would be like asking you how many days it has been since you were born.’ His lips curled up into a slight smile. ‘We do mark the seasons in … fifty? Is that the right number? But I have never thought to count how many of those I’ve seen. And anyway, I don’t know that I am fully grown yet. I’m not ready to move across. There are so many new things to do. When I have done them all then I will be, how do you say it? A grown up.’
And with that declaration, he leaped out of the water and chased me around, laughing and trying to paint my arms with mud symbols. Then he suggested we make animal sculptures out of twisted branches to decorate the baby’s room with and I had to remind him to make them small enough to fit through the doorway. When he finished his eagle he laughed again and agreed that it would have to be hung outside the window. The river had at least done its job of healing his melancholy disposition.