Blue Saturn (8 page)

I pull Mike’s head back down.

Then I feel something scratch against my arm. Someone has a hold of my arm and is trying to lower my hand from Mikey.

“Don’t touch me,” I yell. It’s enough to get the attention of surrounding people and the photographers back away as I pull my arm free. But not before he tears the sleeve of my shirt.

The bus pulls up at the curb and I hurry onto it, taking a seat at the furthest point from the photographers.

I keep Mikey tucked up tight against me until we reach the hotel. We hurry upstairs and it’s not until we’re safely inside the apartment that I take a deep breath and try to calm my wildly beating heart.

Mikey and I are reading before he goes to bed. In the background the news is on. I realised today that I haven’t watched the news since I left home and I was curious to see what’s happening outside the world of Blue Saturn.

Apparently not much. There’s been some wild storms in Europe, a politician said something controversial about another politician and an actress had adopted a baby boy from India.

But the next story gets my attention.

“Look! Mike is on the TV.” Mikey is pointing at the television screen. The story has got his attention too.

I pick up the remote and turn the sound on. Mike is sitting in a large room playing songs on an acoustic guitar. He’s slowed the normally rock songs down to a pace that makes them sound almost like lullaby’s.

The writing at the bottom of the screen reads,
‘Mike Greene surprises cancer patients at Sydney Cancer Centre.’

The amateur video footage scans the room and there are half a dozen women in dressing gowns and casual track suits listening to him as he plays. They’re all smiling. A few are even tapping their feet in time with the music.

Then the screen changes and a nurse is being interviewed.
“He didn’t even tell us he was coming. He just showed up here this afternoon, just after lunch, and asked if he could play a few songs for the patients. He was very humble. He sang for about half an hour before he spent time talking to the patients. He really lifted their spirits.”

That’s why he left Mikey and I this afternoon. I find myself smiling at the TV.

Amateur footage is shown again. Someone has recorded the whole thing on their phone. The nurse continues as the screen shows Mike playing his guitar and smiling.

“It’s not the first time he’s visited with us. He did it last year when he was in Sydney. I know for a fact he also visits the hospitals in Melbourne, where he lives.”

“That’s Mike,” Mikey says. “He said he will teach me to play the guitar, just like him.”

The story wraps and I turn my head to look at Mikey. “I bet he will.”

Mikey is tucked away in bed and sleeping soundly after our big day touring Sydney. I, on the other hand, am a bundle of nervous energy thinking about the photographers. I know I should tell Mike about what happened but I don’t want to upset him right before he’s about to go on stage. I decide I’ll tell him first thing in the morning, before we leave to go to Brisbane.

I make myself a cup of tea and curl up on the couch. I order in a movie but as the opening credits roll, I find myself thinking about Mike.

Mike.

There is definitely a soft side to him I would never have imagined he’d possess. And I wonder why he visits the cancer hospitals, and does he visit other special care hospitals? Children’s Hospitals or nursing homes?

I think it’s a very modest act, to give his time, for free, with no fanfare to visit with sick people, to give them something to smile about, something to make them forget about being sick, even if it is for a short while.

I’m deep in thought wondering about whether maybe cancer has affected someone close to Mike when I hear the door to the apartment open. I turn around as Mike comes into view.

“You’re back early,” I say at the same time as he says, “You’re up late.”

We both laugh quietly.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“It’s one thirty.” Mike continues through the apartment and out onto the balcony.

It’s now that I realise I am still holding a full mug of tea and the movie has finished and I never even took in a single second of it. I’ve spent the last however many hours thinking about Mike.

I see Mike light up a cigarette and decide to get the bad news out of the way now. I’ll tell him about what happened this afternoon. He’s unlikely to scream and yell at me when he knows people around us are sleeping. Hopefully.

“Mike, can I have a minute?”

He exhales smoke and looks over at me. “Sure, what’s up?”

I step out onto the balcony and look out to the city. “Something happened today at the aquarium and as much as I don’t want to tell you about it, I need to.”

He turns his whole body to look at me. “What happened?” He frowns as I sense his body tensing.

I take a deep breath and remind myself to stay calm. “There were photographers...trying to take Mikey’s picture.”

Mike rolls his head forward as his entire demeanour slumps. “Did they get any pictures?”

I nod my head. “Yes. I didn’t know what to do. Every time I turned around there was another camera and... I tried to keep Mike’s face hidden but one of them grabbed at me and...”

“They grabbed at you?” Mike tenses again.

“They didn’t hurt me, they just scratched my arm. I was trying to keep Mikey safe...” I take a deep breath to stop the tears from forming.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You should’ve called me.”

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry Mike. I just freaked out and I got on the bus and came straight back to the apartment.”

“Why didn’t you call me when you got back?”

I shrug. “I didn’t want to worry you before your show.” I decide not to tell him that I’d seen the footage of him at the hospital. Something tells me he wouldn’t want me to know about it. “We spent three hours together this morning without saying one single horrible thing to each other. I guess I didn’t want you to be angry at me.”

“Lyndsay. I’m not angry at you. You did nothing wrong. Why would you think I’d be angry at you?”

I widen my eyes as I look up at him.

He smiles and shakes his head. “We have a pretty bad track record, huh?”

I nod my head.

“Mikey is okay though?”

“He’s fine. They didn’t touch him.”

“And you?”

My hand instinctively goes to the scratch on my arm. “Other than a scratch, I’m fine.”

Mike looks down to where I’m touching my arm and reaches out for it. He lifts it and pulls the sleeve of my shirt up. He sees the red line, which goes from halfway up my lower arm to my elbow. He runs a single finger along its length and looks up at me. “I’ll handle this.” He releases my arm and goes back inside.

I sleep restlessly. At seven o’clock, Mikey comes into my room and asks if we can play with his blocks. I stretch my arms and legs and mumble a ‘yes’.

I volunteer to cook up a big breakfast. I text Gavin that breakfast will be ready at nine if he’s interested. He replies that he is very interested.

Mike makes an appearance just as I’m setting the table. I honestly wasn’t expecting him to be up so early, but considering he wasn’t up partying to all hours of the morning I guess it’s not unreasonable to assume that he wouldn’t stay in bed for the better half of the day.

He pours himself a coffee, has a brief conversation with Gavin before sitting with Mikey on the floor.

“Are Paul and Steve joining us too?” I ask.

Gavin and Mike laugh. “I doubt it,” Gavin says. “I doubt they’ll be with us on the plane to Brisbane.”

Neither Gavin nor Mike seems worried about this so I decide not to worry either. I’ve not had much to do with either Paul or Steve, other than our little run in earlier on. That seems like a lifetime ago, but it was only...two weeks ago? I’m losing track of time.

I serve up two plates of bacon and eggs and toast and tomato’s and mushrooms for the two bigger boys and for Mikey a slice of toast and eggs. He ate earlier so I’m not expecting him to eat too much. For myself, I serve up some eggs and bacon, minus the toast and mushrooms.

I’m not a big fan of mushrooms.

I notice that Gavin looks surprised when Mike sits down to join us at the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat breakfast, Mikey. What’s the deal?”

Mike looks up at me and looks away again. “Apparently I’m too skinny.” He takes a forkful of bacon and shovels it into his mouth.

I feel my mouth fall open.

“Who called you skinny? Having troubles with the ladies?” Gavin is smiling.

“No, just one.”

I put food into my mouth and chew slowly.

“Which one? You haven’t been with...”

Mike sends Gavin a warning glare and Gavin stops talking. Mike looks back at me, smiles and continues to chew.

There are a few seconds of silence before Mike engages Gavin in a conversation about guitars. They’re talking about Fenders and Gibson’s. I’ve heard of those brands but when Gavin mentions an Ibanex I’m lost. So is Mike by the sounds of things. He’s obviously heard of them but when he says, “why the hell would you get an Ibanex?’ I’m assuming he’s baffled by Gavin’s suggestion.

“I don’t know. They’re a good guitar.”

“I think I’ll go with the Fender. Custom made.”

“Acoustic?” Gavin asks.

“And electric.” Mike shovels another forkful of food into his mouth.

I really have no interest in what they’re saying, so I focus on helping Mikey cut up his egg.

Liane is in the apartment. She and Mike are having a heated discussion on the balcony. Apparently, Mike was “off” during last night’s show. His singing was “spot on” but his performance was “lacking.” The critics are all over it this morning, claiming that he was “high or drunk.”

“I was sober for the first time this tour,” he yells at Liane.

“Well do whatever you need to do to get your act together Mike. We can’t have anymore ‘dull and lethargic’ performances,” she reads from the newspaper before throwing it to the ground.

I step out from the kitchen and head out to pack up Mikey’s toys. We leave in an hour to go to the airport.

“Oh look, it’s Mary Poppins,” Liane quips. At least she didn’t call me a babysitter. “You know to be ready in an hour.”

“I know,” I say quietly as I start packing toys into my backpack. I pretend that I haven’t overheard her discussion with Mike and keep my head down.

“And here is the child,” Liane says as Mikey comes down the stairs. “And he’s not crying. What a bloody miracle.” She looks to me. “Someone’s finally doing their job.”

“Be careful Liane.” Mike comes in from the balcony and sends Liane a look that makes my blood chill. In all the evil looks he’s given me, he’s never given me one quite like that.

Liane smiles one of the fakest smiles I’ve ever seen. “I’m going to see if I can round up Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum,” Liane says. I assume she’s referring to Paul and Steve. She turns and leaves the apartment.

“Do you need a hand with anything?” Mike asks me. I’m searching under furniture for any missed toys.

“No, I think I’m almost good to go.” I stand up and smile at him. “Thanks.” I watch him go back out to the balcony and light up another cigarette and think about what he said to Liane. He was sober during last night’s show and from what I’ve seen of his behaviour so far, I’m guessing that was a big deal for him. I question myself as to why he decided to do it.

Gavin comes into the apartment a few minutes after our bags have been taken down to the car. “There’s a swarm of media downstairs. Wayne is trying to clear the footpath.”

Mike sighs. “Was I really that bad?”

“Nar mate. You weren’t bad at all. They’re mostly interested in the little fellow.”

Mike groans. “Great.” He rubs his hands up and down his face. “I’ll be right back.” Mike leaves the apartment.

I double check that Mikey’s bag is packed with a few toys and colouring books for the plane. I know we’ll get a meal on the plane, but I’ve also packed a few snacks, just in case.

Mike comes back into the apartment. He takes Mikey in his arms and speaks to him. “There are a lot of people down stairs, little man. Some of them want to take your photo. So you and I are gonna walk out together, okay?”

I look up at Mike and I know my eyes are wide.

“I’ve set some ground rules. They’ll follow them as long as they get their photos. Hopefully then, they’ll leave us alone.” Mike smiles reassuringly but I can’t help but remember back to yesterday. “It’ll be fine.” Mike nods to Gavin and we all head down stairs.

As we approach the doors to the hotel, I see Wayne standing beside the door, waiting for us. Then my eyes shift to the crowd of people outside.

“Oh my goodness,” I whisper.

“Get used to it, Lynd’s.” Gavin slips an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close to him. “Smile and enjoy the ride.”