The Spare Room (8 page)

15

Before I could get organised for my own small dinner party, there was another party — Stolly's dad's. Stolly had asked me a couple of weeks beforehand.

My old man's turning fifty soon, he said one day in the refectory.

Your old man? I said.

You know, he said. My dad. He's having a big party. And you're invited.

The party was on a Sunday. I dressed in my suit. It was only the second time I'd worn it. The first was for our official welcome party in the week of my arrival. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Stolly came by and picked me up. By then I knew that wine was the appropriate offering to take to a party. Not oranges. I carefully chose a bottle of red wine. When Stolly saw it, he laughed.

Talk about coal to Newcastle, he said.

What? I said.

My old man's got more wine than you could poke a stick at. If it were Armageddon tomorrow he could just go down into his cellar and drink himself into oblivion.

There were still times when I didn't understand the things Stolly said.

Stolly's parents lived in a large house painted white. Outside were a lot of trees that Stolly said were typical of Greece. Fig trees, lemon trees, olive trees. And above the front door was a grape vine. I stood looking up at the small green bunches of grapes as Stolly rang the doorbell.

Akira, he whispered, I should warn you. My family is very Greek.

Greek, yes, I said. I know.

No, Akira. I mean, they are
really
Greek.

Before I could say anything, the front door flew open and it seemed as if a giant octopus reached out to haul us inside. We were swept into a crowd of people. Arms around us, hugs, kisses. Lots of noise and laughter, music coming from another room. People held Stolly at arm's length and looked him up and down.

So tall! they exclaimed. So handsome! So like Vasilis!

People shook my hand so vigorously it hurt. This was not the way I had taught myself to shake hands, but I enjoyed the enthusiasm. In fact, at that moment I thought I would always shake hands this way in future. One man came up and said, You must be Akira.

Before I could answer he wrapped me in a bear hug.

I am Vasilis, he said, when he let me go. Stolly's father. Welcome to my house!

Pleased to meet you, Mr Kalanthes, I said.

No, no, no. Vasilis.

Vasilis, I said.

And this is my wife, he said, drawing towards us a smiling woman.

She kissed me on both cheeks. This was not something I was used to. Her smile made me feel fine though.

Please, she said, be at home here in our house.

This was said so sincerely that I could feel something niggling at my throat. Home was such a vexed issue for me at the moment. Home in Japan. Home in Australia.

Thank you, Mrs Kalanthes. I'd been practising the surname.

Eleftheria to friends of my son, she said.

I smiled at her.

Let's go have a little something to eat, Vasilis boomed. He rounded everyone up and shepherded them into the next room, a living room where music was playing loudly and tables were pushed together and loaded with food and bottles of wine.

I turned to Vasilis.

Happy birthday, Vasilis, I said.

He put one arm along my shoulders and said, Ah yes, a happy birthday. I'm a happy man, Akira. A lucky man. You see?

And he swept his other arm to take in the room full of family and friends.

A lucky man, he said again. He gave my arm a squeeze and moved off into the crowd.

Someone put a glass of red wine in my hand and a plate of food in the other. Stolly appeared at my side.

I warned you, he said.

Very Greek? I asked.

This is only the beginning, Stolly said.

Suddenly the lights went out. And then into the room came Eleftheria carrying a big cake with fifty candles alight. Guests began to sing Happy Birthday, bits in English and bits in Greek, which made everyone laugh. As Eleftheria put the cake on a table, Vasilis stepped up behind her and put his arms around her, kissed her ear. She reached back and held his head and closed her eyes for a moment.

I looked at Stolly who was watching all this with a quiet smile. He caught my look and gave a wry lift of his eyebrows. For my part, I had never seen parents, people my parents' age, behave like this. So … so … in love. Except in movies.

Vasilis made a show of taking a very big breath, then managed to blow out all the candles but one. There was a round of applause and lots of cheering. He puffed at the last candle expecting to put it out with one breath, but it merely flickered then burned steadily. Vasilis puffed again with the same result. There was a lot of laughter, then someone began slow handclapping. Others joined in. Vasilis puffed again and this time the candle went out. Everyone cheered and applauded again. It was like being at the soccer.

Speech! Speech! everyone called.

If you insist, Vasilis said. Just a few words. It's not every day a man turns fifty.

Stolly nudged me and rolled his eyes towards the door, putting his fingers to his lips as if holding a cigarette. I couldn't believe Stolly would leave when his father was going to give a speech.

Come on, said Stolly, grabbing my sleeve. This could go on for hours.

At the door I turned, feeling embarrassed about our lack of manners, but no one was paying any attention. Vasilis was in full flight, one arm around his wife, the other waving in the air.

I suddenly felt tears in my eyes. I could not stop looking. Such a warm, close feeling. Such love and laughter, generosity and good spirits. I felt that I understood something more about Stolly now. And I suddenly wondered what he would learn about me if he met my parents, came to dinner at our house in Tokyo.

I pulled myself together and caught up with Stolly in the garden.

And Stolly, I said, I must warn you. My family is very Japanese.

When we went back inside the speeches were over and people were dancing, holding hands in a circle in the centre of the room. Those not dancing stood around the circle clapping in time with the music. The music itself wasn't like anything I'd heard before. It had a strange quality, almost off-key, and the rhythms were unusual, at least to me. It was almost mournful, but celebratory at the same time.

Vasilis came by with a bottle of red wine and topped up my glass. He went to do the same for Stolly, but the bottle was empty.

I'll get a few more from the cellar, he said, and off he went, holding the bottle up to show Eleftheria and pointing towards the door. She smiled and nodded and kept on clapping to the music.

A dark-haired girl who was standing on the other side of the circle from us kept glancing at Stolly. I looked at him questioningly.

That's Kristina, he said. The girl I'm going to marry.

I must have looked shocked.

I should say, the girl my family would like me to marry.

Will you? I asked.

Stolly gave me a withering look.

Come on, he said, pulling me towards the dance circle. The time is ripe.

I was horrified. Dancing at a club after a few beers was one thing, but these people looked like they knew what they were doing.

I can't, I whispered.

You can't sing either, said Stolly. Does that stop you from singing karaoke?

I wanted to protest but I didn't want to be impolite. I had no choice. We joined the circle and linked hands with each other and the people on either side. I noticed the girl hurry over and join in on the other side of Stolly.

Let the music teach you, Stolly said.

Well, that was easier said than done, but I did my best. I tried to relax and let my body become just a part of the circle which was moving as if it was one creature. The movement of the circle flowed through me and carried me along with its rhythm. I was doing it. I was dancing Greek-style. Satoshi, if only you could have seen me.

I lost all sense of time during the dancing. If there were breaks, if one tune finished before another started, I didn't notice. I remember there were changes of tempo and of steps, but to me it was a seamless, mesmeric experience. When the circle finally broke apart, it was as if I'd returned from a strange journey. People told me I was a natural. They laughed and asked if I had Greek blood. There was such warmth and effusiveness towards me. All because I was Stolly's friend and a guest. Stolly told me that Greeks have a tradition of always making any guest very welcome. He told me they believed a stranger might turn out to be a god. He told me this with a straight face. I'm still not sure if it's true.

Just then, Eleftheria came up to us.

Your father's taking a long time, she said to Stolly. Go down to the cellar and give him a hand, darling. Tell him we miss him.

Okay, Mum.

And Stolly, she added, tell him I love him.

Sure, Mum, Stolly said and gave her a kiss. Come on, he said to me. Come and see Dad's cellar. He's got enough wine down there to last the next fifty years.

On the way down to the cellar Stolly told me a little bit about Greek music, how its spaces and timing are different to western music, more Middle Eastern. He was half-turned back towards me on the steep steps as he spoke, which is why we were almost at the bottom before we saw him.

Vasilis was spread-eagled on the bricked floor of the cellar.

He's fallen down the steps, yelled Stolly. Look at all the blood! Stolly was frozen to the spot on the last step.

I looked and pushed past him. It's wine, Stolly, I said. He's dropped a bottle. Look.

Shards of glass were scattered in the pool of red wine which spread away from where Vasilis lay crumpled. I knelt beside him and took a deep breath. All that training we did before we got our driver's licences came back to me, Satoshi. I turned Vasilis on his side and cleared his mouth. Right, I thought. Check breathing. No breath. Pulse. No pulse.

Telephone a … Stolly, no breath, no …

I beat my fist on my chest. My English was letting me down.

Stolly, telephone! I had no word for ambulance in my mind, but Stolly unfroze and leapt up the stairs.

I began to go through the steps we learned. Five quick breaths. Apply pressure above the heart. Then alternate smoothly. Five pressures. Two breaths.

My mind was numb. I wasn't panicked. I knew I simply had to keep on, that this was the best I could do. Just as in the dance upstairs, the rhythm took over and I lost track of how long I continued. Perhaps not long at all. Stolly returned with Eleftheria. Vaguely I heard voices at the top of the stairs. I kept on. Then two men in white hurtled down the stairs and took over and we had to move away. The rest was a kind of blur for me. I was suddenly exhausted.

Buddhists believe that each person has many lives, that death is only a beginning. But your fiftieth birthday was much too early for a new beginning.

The ambulance workers got Vasilis' heart started again with special equipment. Or so Stolly told me later. I only remember standing on the front lawn with the other guests and watching Vasilis being loaded on a stretcher into the ambulance. Eleftheria climbed in after him and sat stroking his forehead. One of the ambulance men came over to us and stretched out his hand to me.

Good work! he said.

I took his hand but forgot to shake vigorously.

The ambulance roared away, siren blaring.

Stolly turned and hugged me and began to weep. We stood like that until other guests took us back inside.

It was very late by the time I got home. Everyone would have been sound asleep. There was no hope of my sleeping even though I felt so very tired. I found that I was thinking about my own father. Vasilis' heart attack had put the wind up me. What if something like that happened to my own father? And what if I was not there? I thought about our relationship for a long time. And I thought that perhaps I could make a move. Instead of waiting for him, I could open things up between us. Try to talk. I even thought about calling Japan. Instead I took out my writing things and began a letter. It went like this:

Dear Mum and Dad, I want to say thank you for what you have given me. Today one of those things became very important. When you gave me my driving lessons I learned resuscitation, of course. And today I saved a man's life.

I saved Vasilis' life, I whispered.

This made me feel very happy, I continued. It made me think about Satoshi and how I wished I could have saved him. I'm learning a lot here.

Then I sat at the desk, thinking about my father. In the end, I screwed up the paper and threw it in the bin.

When I did go to bed, I noticed that someone had put the teddy bear back on my pillow.

16

Shortly after what Stolly dubbed The Resurrection, our teacher asked us for ideas on outside activities for the class. I thought of the boat gradually taking shape in the shed at home. I ran the idea past Alex that night while we were getting dinner organised.

There would be a fee, I said.

Alex thought for a few moments.

Okay. Let's give it a go, he said.

So that was how Alex's shed came to be full of overseas students the next time Gordon called by. One group of students was busy at a task and another group was listening intently as Alex showed them what needed to be done. I noticed Gordon standing in the doorway. He seemed big standing there against the bright daylight outside, and not old at all. He was watching Alex, taking everything in, and nodding his head.

He looked for me then and our eyes met. I went over to him.

Hello, I said, holding out my hand.

Gordon looked at me and reached out his hand. He tilted his head to suggest we go outside. I followed him into the sunshine where he stood tamping down his pipe.

Angie told me how you learned Japanese, I said then.

Never thought I'd use it again, that's for sure. You're the first Jap I've spoken to since then, Gordon said.

I'm sorry it was bad for you, I said.

He nodded his head.

You're doing well with the boat, he said. I haven't seen Alex like this for a long time. It's good to see.

I took a long breath. My grandfather was also in that war, I said. After the war he collected scrap metal and sold it. He began his business. He made that business for his son.

Your father?

Yes. They lived in Hiroshima and his wife died by the bomb. His baby son lived.

I heard Gordon catch his breath. The hand holding his pipe began to shake.

War, eh, he said eventually.

He looked as if he might say something else, but I could see he was having trouble speaking. He tried to light his pipe but his hands were shaking. I wanted to break the tension.

And now my father's in women's underwear, I said.

Gordon looked at me and smiled, but his eyes were watery.

And then it was time for my dinner party. I'd invited Stolly and he said he'd help me shop. We went to a deli where I shopped sometimes for ingredients for Alex.

I like this shop very much, I said to Stolly as we went in. The people here are always very friendly, always smiling and laughing.

Hello, Akira, said one of the women behind the counter with a big smile. Another woman stood next to her, also smiling.

Hello. How are you?

Fine, the women said together, still all smiles. What can we get for you?

I would like six of those chicken tits please, I said, pointing through the counter glass.

Behind me, Stolly erupted into laughter. I looked around at him. Now the women also fell about laughing.

Something is funny? I said to Stolly.

Chicken tits! Stolly managed through his laughter. He suddenly lunged at me and tried to pinch my nipples. This made the women completely crack up.

Later when Stolly explained the many words for breasts and the appropriate times to use them, I told him that I must have ordered chicken tits from those women a dozen times. That's the trouble with dictionaries. How embarrassing. Stolly said not to worry about it, that it had probably brightened up their day immensely. I like to think so.

When we got home, we found a ladder leaning against the side of the house. We stepped back to see who was up on the roof but instantly I was hit by that old vertigo. My tongue seemed to fill my mouth and stop me from breathing. I fought to stay calm.

Alex was up there adjusting the TV aerial. When he saw us he called out.

Akira, thank goodness. Can you give me a hand?

I could barely breathe, let alone answer. I stood there dumbly, working on keeping upright. Stolly looked over at me then answered Alex.

I will, he said. And he began climbing the ladder.

You must be Stolly, called Alex.

I finally found enough breath to speak, but I was barely audible.

Sorry, I said. I worked on raising my voice. Stolly, this is Alex. Alex, Stolly.

I wonder if they shook hands up there on the roof, awkwardly, around the TV aerial. I don't know. I kept my eyes level, looking at the house to steady myself. Straight ahead of me was the window of Alex and Jess's bedroom. A figure appeared at the window, drawn no doubt by our raised voices. Someone in a baseball cap and denim jacket. A boy? A friend of Angie's? The figure leaned into the glass, looking not towards me but towards the ladder. I realised with a jolt that the face was Jess's, her hair tucked up under the baseball cap. Her face was stricken, wet with tears. The figure moved away and I wondered if I had imagined it. But the face stayed with me.

Alex and Stolly climbed down the ladder.

Alex asked, How's your father, Stolly? Akira told us what happened.

He's worse than ever, Stolly said, which made both of us look at him with concern.

Yeah, he used to wear his heart on his sleeve before, but since The Resurrection he's impossible. Tells us he loves us every minute of the day. Smells the roses.

We laughed. But I noticed a strange look pass over Alex's face.

Stolly continued, There's something about death …

We waited.

There's something about death …

Stolly's studying philosophy, I said to Alex.

Ah, said Alex. Let's get a beer, shall we?

I set to work in the kitchen with great gusto. Daisy asked if she could be my assistant and learn the Japanese names of the ingredients.

When I looked around at one point, Alex and Jess were sitting together at the kitchen table having a beer. Gordon sat with them, reading a newspaper. In the lounge room, Stolly was entertaining Angie. She was laughing at something he'd said and my eyes got stuck on her. Another glimpse of that carefree girl I had seen at the beach. I felt a kind of pride that I had contributed to creating this rare harmonious atmosphere in the house. But I felt a stab of something else, seeing Stolly and Angie so at ease. She was never like that with me.

I dragged my eyes away from the two of them and said to Alex and Jess, Dinner will be ready soon.

Jess jumped up. I'll set the table, she said. She looked relaxed, beautiful, dressed up for dinner in a sleeveless black dress. The haunted face at the window seemed improbable.

Daisy and I put the finishing touches to things. I began putting platters on the table and the others gathered around, making appreciative noises and pulling out chairs. Stolly, I noticed, chose a chair next to Angie.

When everyone else was seated, still exclaiming over the food, I put the last plate in the centre of the table and took a seat myself. There was a sudden silence as everyone noticed at the same time that there was one extra setting and an empty chair. Everyone looked at the empty place. The silence was as solid as the table.

Jess suddenly crumpled. Alex looked anxious. Gordon busied himself with his serviette. Angie's face became more and more intense. She stared at her mother. Stolly looked at me with raised eyebrows.

Daisy piped up, Well, I think it's nice to set a place for Joey sometimes.

As if Daisy's words had released a spring in Jess, she leapt up from the table so violently that her chair fell backwards on the floor. She grabbed up the plate and cutlery from the empty place, strode across the room and threw everything in the sink.

That's right! Angie burst out. That's your answer, isn't it? Get rid of every trace, obliterate every memory. As if you're the only one who has any rights.

Jess stood shaking at the sink, her back to us. Then she ran from the room.

Angie pushed back her chair and stormed out too.

Gordon picked up a platter and said, Let's start, shall we? Never thought I'd want to be eating Jap food.

Stolly and I stood out under the stars smoking cigarettes.

Well, said Stolly, what a lovely relaxed dinner. What the hell was all that about?

I think … I began. I had never tried to put it into words before. I think there is a son, this Joey that Daisy mentioned. I think he must be what is called a black lamb. Nobody talks about him. Only Daisy now and then.

Where is he then? asked Stolly.

I don't know. Maybe he ran away from home. And now he is a black lamb.

Black sheep, said Stolly.

Yes.

That happens a lot, Stolly said. Every year lots of kids run away from home. Sometimes they're never heard from again. It must be terrible for the parents. Never knowing whether their kids are okay or not. They just disappear.

Maybe they have no choice, I said.

Stolly nodded. Maybe, he said.