The Blind Eye (16 page)

It had begun as a dizziness, a sensation almost sparkling, dazzling, in its purity. He had stopped and leant against the trunk of the soap mallee that grew at the end of the dirt track leading into town, the illness now rolling in, great waves washing through him. Five minutes later, as he stumbled across the road towards Thai’s, his teeth were chattering and his vision was blurred. He was freezing cold, the sweat on his forehead was like ice melting, and in his mouth was the taste of the flower Constance had given him, peppery and dry.

Can you help me?
he called out to the older girl, Jade, who was digging graves for all her dolls beneath his window, but either no words came out or she didn’t hear him. She had used Paddle-pop sticks for each of the crosses, and as he tried to make a feeble joke about the number of ice-creams she must have eaten, he passed out, his legs folding beneath him, his body crumpling onto the floor.

It was three days before he made it out of his bed. Leaning against the door, he could only just see Thai, her outline fuzzy as he looked out into the brilliance of the day.

Jesus, mate, you had us worried
, and as she shook her head, Silas tried to recollect any moments during his illness when she had exhibited concern. It had been Lucas who had brought in the cracked cups filled with water, still there by his bed, and the two bowls of tinned spaghetti, also still there, the pasta dried to the edge of the plate.

He was surprised at how weak he was and how he had to lean on Thai’s shoulder, her bones sharp and hard against his arm, when he attempted to walk. She led him out of his room and across the dirt to her place, Steve bending down and hoisting him up onto the verandah.

Back in the land of the living?

Silas pulled back from the sweet staleness of Steve’s breath, wet smoky grass, pungent as he leant a little closer to pass Silas the joint he had been smoking, the tip soggy to the touch.

Deal finally came through
, and he patted the bag next to him, half of which he had already smoked with Shelley.

Thai let out a thin exhalation of smoke, her chin tilted upwards, her eyes narrowed. She glanced across at Silas briefly, her words muttered just loud enough for him to hear —
and a certain someone has gone back to her bloke —
as she tossed the dead match across the yard.

If Steve heard, he did not show it. He just pushed the bag over and asked her to roll them another.

With his back against the wall, Silas closed his eyes. Splinters of dry wood were pricking through his T-shirt, but he did not move. He could feel the warmth of the sun creeping along his legs and he hoped that somehow it was instilling enough strength into his limbs for him to eventually pull himself up and head back out along the track to Rudi’s. He could hear Steve drawing in the last of the joint with a sharp intake of breath, and letting it out again with a slight whistle. Steve was watching Silas or, at least, that was what Silas presumed, because when he opened his eyes, the sunlight dazzling, he saw that Steve had turned in his direction, his expression unreadable behind the black wrap around glasses he always wore.

Want a word of advice, mate?
He was going to give it whether Silas wanted it or not.
Hanging around up there — it’s what they call a health hazard
.

He nodded in what Silas could only guess was the
direction of Rudi’s, and because he could feel the joint that Steve had handed him starting to burn between his fingers, he held it up to his lips, the paper hot on the end of his tongue. He looked at them both and then beyond them to the dirt, the few scrappy sand mallees out on the road, and out to the ranges, burnt orange under the clear blue sky.

Steve’s comment had not surprised him. It was a thought that had crossed his own mind. There had been moments during his fever when he had wondered whether she had wanted to make him ill, and he had tossed around in his bed, his dreams punctuated by images of Constance and the flower she had given him. He smiled to himself. It was a ludicrous notion, but there was a drama to it, an intensity that matched the passion with which she had countered any of the comments he had made concerning the way in which she lived, and he smiled to himself because there was, in his exhausted state, something almost appealing about the idea. He shook his head.

Here we are again
. He was surprised at the sound of his own voice; it was remarkably unchanged, despite every part of his being feeling as though it had been through a fire and back again.

Yep indeed
, and Thai held up the joint she had just rolled, admiring its perfection for a few moments before handing it over to Steve.

Yep
, Silas repeated sometime later, uncertain as to how
much time had actually passed since anyone had spoken.
Ever been out there?
He turned towards Steve, his words so slurred that he wasn’t sure whether they were intelligible.

When Steve finally responded about five minutes later, Silas had forgotten what he had asked.
Tried to shoot me once
. He scratched at his beard.
Thought I was after his daughter
, and he shook his head in amazement.
Went there with Mick, shooting cans
. He grinned.
I was just talking to her, passin’ the time of day, andjuck me dead if he wasn’t out there with a gun pointed at me
.

Silas closed his eyes again, the dope curling down the back of his throat, creeping through his limbs. He wanted to pull himself up, jump off the verandah, the chickens squawking at his feet as he crossed the yard, and for a moment he could see himself, swinging each leg over the gate, the dirt on the road a dusty yellow cloud behind him. But he couldn’t move.

Steve took a long swig of beer and then kicked the empty bottle onto the pile.
Any more, darl?
He looked across at Thai, her sharp face turned up towards the sun, her eyes closed.

Try the fridge
, she told him, without looking in his direction.

The screen door slammed shut behind him when he returned. The boards shuddered beneath his weight as he settled back into his seat.

Jase reckons she threatened him with a snake one time. Told
him she kept them as pets
. Steve flicked the ring pull at Thai, thinking it would get her attention. A fine spray of beer sparkled across the verandah, but she did not move.

Silas had his hands pressed down, the wood dry beneath his skin, in an attempt to push himself up. It was extraordinary, there was no power in his body. He grinned to himself, staring at the feebleness of his arms, and he wondered, idly, whether this was in fact himself, or someone else, the real Silas far away from here. All he could do was close his eyes, a faint smile disturbing the stillness of his face, Steve’s words floating out there around him.

I mean, mate, you’re hanging around there, you’re sick as a dog; it all adds up
.

Silas just nodded, not sure what added up anymore.

Friendly advice, that’s all it is
.

If he tried hard, Silas could see her, the paleness of her skin, the thick cloud of dark hair.

She knows everything
, he said dreamily, uncertain as to whether he had, in fact, spoken out loud.

They were just a type of belladonna, she had told him, the flowers she loved the most. The atropine was used by women to dilate their pupils.
To make them more attractive
, and a smile had curved at the corners of her lips.

Her long white fingers had scrabbled in the soil.
Mandragora
.

He had kept pointing to them all, wanting to know what
they were, but also just wanting to keep her there with him. A cluster of creamy-yellow cup-shaped flowers, heavily veined with purple, and he had bent down to touch the yellow fruit that lay on the ground. It was pulpy, rotting into the earth, moist beneath his hands.

It’s the roots that we use
, and she had shown him. They were human in shape, a male figure, there in her hold.

She had smiled at him then, a full smile, alive with mischief, as she had stepped back from the hole she had dug, both hands clasped over her ears.
The shriek
.

He had no idea what she meant.

If you pull them from the ground they shriek
.

All he had wanted was to kiss her.

Anyone who hears the shriek of a mandrake root dies. That’s what they used to believe. They used to dig all around the root and then tie a dog to it by a string. When the master called the dog, the dog would run towards him and pull the root out. Then it would die. Just like that
, and she had clapped her hands, the sound harsh in the quiet.

He wanted to get back to her.

He opened his eyes and saw the ash on his skin from where the joint had burnt down, the last of the paper, grey and sodden, between his middle and forefinger.

Mate
, and Thai handed him another.

He just shook his head.
Think I might go for a walk
, and as he pressed his hand down onto the verandah, a fly settled on
his mouth. He swiped at it, his whole body slumping again. Later, he thought, and he closed his eyes, hoping she was still there; Constance, right inside his head, exactly where he had left her.

5

Shortly after Silas first mentioned that he had been in love with Constance, he tried to qualify what he meant. He told me that even then he knew it was ridiculous to talk of love when he did not know her, when he had rarely talked to her alone; not that love was a word anyone was using, not even Pearl, and she was the only one who had begun to guess at the true extent of his feelings, she was the only one to whom he really talked.

In the dusty gloom of her shop, she said she’d heard that Constance had got
her hooks
into him, that he’d been spending all his time
mooning around up there
, she nodded in the direction of Rudi’s place,
and look where it’s got you. Hardly a picture of health
.

She held her crochet up for a moment, throwing the full size of the lurid rug across the clutter that covered the counter. Sometimes it was necessary to look at the complete pattern in order to choose the next layer, and her eyes widened as she took in the sickly rings of pea green, mauve and fluorescent yellow. Silas waited, his gaze fixed in
fascination on the pink pudginess of her fingers as she snipped the wool with a pair of rusted scissors and knotted on the next ball.

She leant forward, her watery blue irises magnified beneath the thick glasses she wore.

Have you seen them?
she asked.

Seen what?
Silas brushed at a fly, his hand momentarily getting caught in the tangles of colour spilling across the teapot, teacup, sugar and cashbox.

The snakes she keeps
.

He pulled back.
Really?

This was what he came for, pushing the heavy door open each morning, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, the stale sweetness of old sugar sickly in the air; he was eager for any information about her, and Pearl knew it, teasing it out, strand by strand.

Hundreds of them
, and Pearl sniffed.
She’s immune to them. It’s the venom in her blood
.

Pearl was born out the back of the shop, and that was where she would die;
and there aren’t many that can boast that
. It had been years since she’d walked any further than the few steps to the street out the front, dragging the heavy ‘Open for Business’ sign that she insisted on displaying each day, its legs clattering across the pavement. Yet despite her lack of mobility, she knew whatever there was to be known and, like Steve, she enjoyed imparting her knowledge.

Don’t think anything escapes me
, she had once told Silas and he had nodded solemnly.

I wouldn’t dare
. He had winked at her.

Cheekiness will get you nowhere
, and she had rolled up a newspaper and taken a swipe at him.

Personally
, and Silas leant a little closer, knowing that any obvious display of curiosity concerning her comment about the snakes would only protract the telling of the story even further,
I would have chosen a red
, and he shook his head as he pointed to the orange she had begun to integrate into the pattern.