CHASING LIFE (2 page)

Chapter 2

They arrived at the Vertigo Café in time for lunch the following day
. It was a little place across the road from the Melbourne State Library that was always packed with art students. The owners were a young Spanish couple who ran the place like a cosy hostel. In between sessions of spinning vinyl records, the DJ brewed coffee and served sandwiches; no chair resembled any other in the establishment, and the ’70s couches may well have been scavenged from someone’s front lawn.

It was the same old place
—a glimpse of the past—packed and noisy, but with a new price-list. They sat at the same table Julia had been sitting at when they met, and Julia ordered a house white—cheap but good. She was wearing the very same jeans as the first time they’d met, but her hips were much thinner now, and they hung loosely on her bony frame. Their excitement made them feel younger as they commented on the old coffee machine and the faded photos of forgotten celebrities lining the back wall.

For just one afternoon
they forgot about Julia’s illness, drawn into a conversation about music and politics and challenging each other’s views. They’d broken through the confines of their situation to taste a moment of the life they once had enjoyed.

While
Julia excused herself to go to the bathroom, Dave waited, observing the carefree crowd around him chatting away and engrossed in their everyday routines. He envied them. Dave’s reality couldn’t be more different. His consisted of medical appointments, doctors, endless waiting in hospitals and a myriad of drugs, the names of which he could hardly pronounce. A newspaper was left on the bar bench and Dave reached for it. But he couldn’t concentrate on it. He remembered it was time for Julia’s medication. His mood immediately changed to one of anxiety as he began to worry why she hadn’t returned yet.

He kept his
eyes on the bathroom door. People went in and out, but Julia was still in there. He felt a tinge of panic and hurried toward the bathroom, imagining Julia lying unconscious on the floor. The door swung open as he neared it and nearly hit him in the nose.

‘What are you doing?’ s
he chuckled, surprised at seeing him there. A wave of relief and slight embarrassment washed over him.

‘I thought I’d wait for you here.’

‘You’re suc
h a liar. I’m a girl, remember? I take my time. Come on. Let’s go.’ Julia grabbed him by the arm, still laughing at him as they walked out, ‘Where did you get that newspaper?’

The date at the Vertigo Café took a lot out of Julia. Upon returning, she took her medicine and slept through the next day, waking up long enough to eat a little and then sleeping till the following morning. Meanwhile, Dave paced nervously in and out of the bedroom, watching her chest rise with every laboured breath. She finally woke up at midday on the second day after their date and told him it was the most peaceful sleep she’d had in a long time. He knew it was a lie.

‘What’s your
next wish?’ Dave asked, sitting gently on the bed beside her. Julia stretched her arms out and pulled him nearer. He slipped under the blankets next to her warm body and placed his head on her sprawled curls.

‘T
ake me to where we first made love,’ she whispered.

‘I like the sound of
that,’ he said, watching her close her eyes and drift back to sleep.

A few days later, Julia was able to leave the bed on her own, walking to the bathroom and back at first and gradually stabilising enough to move around the house. Dave was in the kitchen when she came in, yawning and pale from all the time spent in bed.

‘Have you done the wash
?’ she asked.

‘
Yes, darling,’ he replied, eyes softening at the sight of her. ‘Come sit and have some breakfast. We have to leave soon for the hospital. It’s time for your blood transfusion today. We also have your second wish to think about.’ Dave grinned and turned back to preparing the toast and coffee, but his smile faded when he turned and saw the state she was in. Julia looked zoned out.

‘What blood transfusion?’
she asked.

‘The one you’ve been having every
week.’ You need it to make you feel better.’ He scanned her face with a worried look, wondering whether anything was registering. Her dementia was picking up pace, and he realised he had to keep a closer eye on her.

‘Oh yes,’
Julia answered, confusion written all over her face. ‘Don’t forget to do the wash.’ She shuffled away and walked into the bedroom.

She gave a little gasp when she saw a stranger walk
toward her and stopped. The stranger stopped also. It was a weird looking, almost skeletal person. They stared at each other without saying a word. She then breathed a sigh of relief. It was her reflection. Confused, she looked around the room trying to recall why she’d gone in there in the first place. Why couldn’t she remember? She searched inside her head for a clue. Her muscles tensed up and her hands shook, she was using all of her strength to remember, her eyes bouncing around the room as if looking for a missing item. Little short breaths made her heart race.

‘Why?’ she started tearing.
Whimpers came out of her, and the little energy she had was slowly draining. Her arms slumped and Julia calmed. Sitting on the bed quietly, she’d given up.

Dave
stared at the empty hallway and stopped what he was doing. In the bedroom, he found Julia sitting motionless on the bed in her nightgown, facing the window like a storefront mannequin.

‘What are you doing
, darling?’ he wrapped his large warm hands around her face and wiped her cheeks. ‘Come on. Let’s get you dressed and we’ll go to the hospital.’

The blood transfusion later that day had given Julia a much-needed energy boost, and there was no sign of her recent confusion. ‘You haven’t forgotten, have you?’ she asked on the way to the freeway. Colour had returned to her cheeks.

‘The picnic
rug is already in the boot,’ Dave replied. ‘I’ll stop by a grocery and pick up a few things before we head off.’

Before they
’d made love for the first time, Dave had told Julia about a place on the western outskirts of Melbourne where a hill was covered with lavender, as far as the eye could see. But that was a long time ago. The landowners had since given up farming due to their old age and a competitive market, letting the land go wild. The steady encroachment of suburbia threatened this oasis and Dave feared that it too would one day vanish.

They
set off in the afternoon under a threatening sky, but eventually the sun pierced through and dispersed the clouds. They left the car on the side of the road and walked over the hill with their picnic rug. The occasional car zooming past could be heard in the distance, but otherwise the afternoon and the fields were all theirs.

The
sweet smell of lavender wafted on the gentle breeze. Insects skipped from flower to flower and formed a chorus of distant sounds, a therapeutic orchestra. The couple picked their location in a secluded hollow and laid the picnic rug. Dave then took out a bottle of champagne and poured them a glass each, along with a box of strawberries covered in dark chocolate. Not a word had been spoken between them until that moment.

‘Are yo
u trying to seduce me, mister?’ Julia said, the same words she had uttered the first time he’d taken her there.

‘Only if it’s
working.’ Dave reached for her and kissed her lips. She lay on her back and they melted into each other.

A relapse of her leukaemia hospitalised Julia for over a week. She struggled to pronounce words, and her exhausted body wanted only rest. Her doctor warned Dave that Julia’s body would rapidly go downhill and that he should prepare for the worst. Blood transfusions gave Julia some energy and pulled her back from a zombie like state, but their positive effect lessened over time. Dave had to take her home in a wheelchair. Her wilting legs had given up.

At home he
set the table for dinner: chicken soup followed by custard. It was standard fare for them these days. He began to feed his frail wife. She no longer had the strength to chew, and swallowing was a struggle. He patiently encouraged her to try a little more. He wiped the dribble off her chin and offered another spoonful of the warm soup. Dave blinked back tears as he helped her eat.

‘My third
…’ she gathered strength to speak. ‘My third wish.’

‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Dave pleaded
, but Julia moved his hand aside as he brought the spoon up to her mouth.

‘I want to see the sunrise.’

‘Okay, all right,’ he whispered, simultaneously relieved and saddened by the simplicity of her request. He wiped a tear from her face and kissed her on the forehead.

Dave
too had been losing weight and missing meals. His mouth was full of ulcers from worrying and he was taking medication to ease his anxiety. His appetite was diminished by the pack of cigarettes a day he was smoking. Although he never used to smoke, cigarettes had become an outlet for his nerves.

The next morning, i
t was still dark when he woke Julia. He wrapped her in warm blankets and carried her to the balcony that overlooked the garden that she loved. Billions of sparkling stars illuminated the night. He held her in his arms, feeling her heavy breathing subside as she rested her head against his chest, waiting for the show to begin. Gradually, the sparkling lights disappeared. On the distant horizon the sun shyly reached out with golden fingertips to touch the landscape. Julia closed her eyes and smiled as the warmth washed over her face.

‘How old are you Dave?’

‘I’m thirty-
two, darling.’

‘And how old am I?’

‘You’re twenty-seven.’

Julia
opened her eyes and ran her fingers across his stubble of growth, ‘You have gray whiskers.’

‘It’s a sign of wisdom.’ Dave stroke
d her hair and squeezed her closer to his body.

‘
Thank you, Dave,’ she whispered.

The day after they saw the sunrise, Dave realised she had to be put back in hospital. Her withering muscles were no longer obeying her, and she was struggling painfully to breathe. Soon a respirator would be her only defence against death. For the next week, Dave stayed beside her day and night, barely noticing the nonstop stream of family and friends coming to grieve and offer their support. The doctors said that it was the final stage of her sickness. Soon, her internal organs would start failing. She was starting to rely on machines around the clock.

O
ne morning, a week since she’d been admitted to hospital, Julia woke from her slumber and gestured for him to move closer. Dave put the paper down and moved closer to her. They were alone in her dimly lit room. Stunned and speechless, he stiffened in reaction to her words. His eyes darted in all directions. Not knowing how to respond, he hastily left the room and paced the hospital hallways. She had asked of him the very thing he found utterly unthinkable. He could never agree to it. How had it come to this?

Dave went outside
on the hospital grounds, away from onlookers. His hands shaking uncontrollably, he tried to light a cigarette, but it broke, as did the next one.

‘Fuck you!’ he screamed
at the lighter, throwing it against the wall. His legs wobbled and he dropped to his knees, falling until his forehead nearly touched the ground. His body racked with silent sobs, he banged his fists on the cold dirt and his knuckles were raw and bloody. Someone from the hospital grounds called out and pointed in his direction. Dave stopped himself, straightened up and got to his feet, wiping the dirt and tears away from his face.

It felt as though
hours passed before he reached his decision. He looked like a man resigned to his fate. There was no one to consult—the choice was left up to him. It was a terrible request, and he would never forgive Julia for it—but he loved her too much to refuse.

That
afternoon Dave gathered courage and asked to speak with Julia’s doctor. He blurted out the only sentence he could manage. ‘She wants to come home; I want her home.’

T
he doctor saw the desperation in Dave’s face. ‘All right,’ he sighed. ‘There’s not much we can do for her now. I’m sure it would be fine for a day or two. It will do her good. Make sure she rests and call me immediately if her condition changes.’ It was a grim admission of helplessness. Dave went off to call Julia’s parents. They protested at first, but eventually relented. They begged Dave to call them if her condition changed.

When night fell, Dave prepared a bath. The entire house flickered with light from the lavender-scented candles Julia had once bought. He’d finally taken them out of their wrapping—they’d been saving them for a special occasion. In the background Julia’s favourite jazz album carried the soft wail of a saxophone. He checked up on her in the bedroom, her figure painfully slight under the sheets. Her body was half the weight it used to be. Dave prepared everything mechanically, shutting out any emotion that might creep in.