The Blind Eye (27 page)

And further, while we were preparing the so-called old medicines we never forgot our position as explorers of the unknown world of results, of effects; never forgetting the ground work of our healing art, we prepared from time to time new medicines also; we made regular provings at least once a year, often twice and even three times a year. These provings were the high feasts in our church, and you cannot consider yourself true members of it without joining in these feasts.

Proving is the most wonderful thing, the world has never known its like. We suffer, and we enjoy it; we sacrifice a little of our comfort, and gain years of strength by it; we go to school to learn, and we increase the certainty of the healing art.

Constantine Hering (1800–1880)

1

I did not, as Greta had assumed, know the entire story. Silas never told me, and as I filled in the gaps from the little she revealed, I marvelled at the strength with which she had listened to him and chosen not to turn her back. In the end, she was his confessor. He needed someone to be able to hear him and carry the weight of what he believed he had done. He had seen her frailty and he had sensed her strength.

Later, I wondered how I could have failed to realise what had happened. It was all there, every piece laid out in front of me, but I had somehow remained blind to that one essential kernel, unable to see the grain from which it had all grown, until Greta made it clear to me, the morning we met, shortly after I stopped seeing Silas as a patient.

I am not a therapist, I had once told Silas.
If you just want to confess all your crimes and misdemeanors, I may not be the person for you
. And I smiled as I remembered my words.

2

Silas told me that when he woke the morning after he had nursed Rudi through the night, Constance was still asleep in his arms.

He did not dare breathe, and as he turned slowly, he saw that Rudi was awake, only feet away, and he shifted again, quickly, wanting to go back to the night that had passed, the shimmering darkness of lying awake next to Constance while she slept, no longer even aware of his presence.

But moments later, she, too, realised that Rudi was stirring, and she got up and took his hand, seemingly oblivious to Silas’s presence.

It was not until she peeled back the sheet that had covered him that Silas knew she had worked wonders. The tumour was still there but it had receded, the growth definitely smaller than it had been the day before.

Rudi looked at Constance for confirmation and she told him, despite not being able to see the plea in his eyes.

It’s a little better
, she whispered, and his fingers trembled as he felt for the lump.

It was miraculous
, Silas told me.
I was in awe
.

She was standing back from Rudi now, and her eyes were focused. But it was not her father that she was looking at, it was the air around him (
the light, I suppose, the charge
, Silas told me), and Silas, too, tried to see, but there was only that body, stretched out flat in front of him.

I remember thinking that everything I had heard about her was true, that there were no more doubts. She just was
, and he looked at the ceiling as he searched for the word,
extraordinary
.

Silas crossed the saltbush flats that led back to town, each of his senses keen to the brilliant blue sky overhead, the soft mauve of the ranges to one side of him, and, on the other, the gulf sparkling beyond the mangrove swamps. He could hear it all, the scratch of the dry twigs against his skin, each footfall in the dirt, the flick of a lizard’s tail as it darted away, the quickness of his own breath as he hurried back to the Port, wanting to get the few things she needed so that he could return to her as soon as possible.

It was not until he reached the place where the track turns into the dirt road at the edge of town that he stopped, aware of how rapidly his heart was beating. As the cool morning breeze floated across from the gulf, he remembered the brush of her hair against his cheek, the slight down on the back of her neck, the smooth curve of her hip, all as he had felt them the night before, his body cradled against hers in
the darkness, and as he remembered, he shivered, aware, in that moment, of the gulf between night and day.

It was too early for Pearl’s to be open, it was too early for anyone to be up, but for the first time since he had arrived, Silas did not find the emptiness of the town unsettling. There was a peace to it, everything was as it should be. Even his mother’s house, collapsing into a tangle of weeds and cactuses, no longer looked forlorn; its dilapidation seemed almost graceful.

At Thai’s, Eli and Lucas were lying head to toe on the couch, Jade and Sass were curled up at the end of Thai’s bed. Silas tiptoed past, letting himself into his cottage, hastily packing the few belongings he would need. As he scribbled a note for Thai, he was not aware that Lucas was awake and watching him from the doorway.

Where are you going?
he asked, rubbing the sleep from the corner of his eyes.

Silas looked across at him.
To the garden
, he whispered.

Why?

Silas grinned at him.
Can you keep a secret?

Lucas nodded, eyes wide as he waited for Silas to tell.

I’m in love
, and Silas pinched his cheek.

Yuk
, he was smirking, and then as Silas turned to the door, he followed.
Can I come?

Silas told him to go back to bed, but Lucas ignored him, jumping down off the verandah and chasing him across the
dirt yard, past the race track he and Eli had built and out onto the empty road.

Have you kissed her?
he asked, running in an attempt to keep up. He was wrinkling his nose in disgust as he waited for an answer.
Well, have you?

They were at the front of Pearl’s now and Silas was dismayed to see the shop was still closed. He looked at his watch and hesitated for a moment before banging on the window.

Across the road, Mick was opening the garage. He heaved the roller-door up, the clatter of steel making Silas jump. Lucas was pulling on his sleeve, still wanting a response to his question. Silas pushed him away, wishing he had kept quiet, but in that brief moment all he had wanted was to speak, to roll out the deliciousness of the secret so that he could marvel at it, and Lucas had been there.

Silas is in love
, the boy chanted, skipping around him, his voice ringing out clear and loud in the stillness of the morning.

Silas knocked on the window again, willing to incur the wrath of Pearl if it meant he could get away from Lucas and out to Constance sooner. From inside he could hear her opening the door that led to the rooms at the back, the rooms where she was born, where she had always lived and where she would die.

Silas knocked again, and he could hear her calling out,
Hold your horses
, as she moved slowly, rolling on fat ankles, towards the front door.

Did you stick your tongue in?
Lucas was pulling on the hem of his shirt now, and as he turned around to tell him to shut up, he’d had enough, he saw Mick cross the road, making his way towards them.

Leaning awkwardly on his crutches, he was attempting to step onto the island that cut the main road in two, a thin strip of gravel decorated with the hideous palms that had been planted by the Port Tremaine Local Action Group over ten years ago.

Silas is in love
, Lucas shouted out, but Mick did not say a word.

Silas watched as Mick struggled with the crutches, trying to get a hold in the gravel, staring at him the whole time. He was about to ask if he needed a hand, but the expression on Mick’s face silenced him. He did not know what it was that he was coming over to say, but he did not want to hear it; not on this perfect morning, not now.

As Pearl drew the bolts, pushing the heavy wooden doors to the shop open, Mick stepped down onto the other side of the road and stopped.

What’s the racket?
She had her arms folded across her stained nightgown, and her glasses balanced at the end of her nose.

Silas told her Rudi had been ill and he needed to get some supplies up to them.

Probably just drank too much
, and she snorted derisively.
Anyone would have thought the town was on fire with that carry-on
.

It was incredible
, and Silas recounted the story of Rudi’s miraculous recovery as he filled his arms with what seemed to be the most practical items he could find: candles, matches, tea, sugar, bread, even a few cans of soup; the list Constance had given him having been forgotten on his walk back from her place.

Pearl opened a bag of Minties, unwrapping one as she listened to his tale.

Hmph
, and she began to add up his purchases.
Sounds like that faith-healing stuff to me
. She leant a little closer.
Did she lay her hands on him?

Silas had no idea what she had done, but he had seen the change that had occurred, the feat she had performed, and he just wanted to get back to her, to be out there with her again.

In the glare of the morning, Mick had not moved. He was leaning on his crutches and his eyes were on Silas as soon as the screen door banged shut behind him. Lucas was sitting on the kerb, flicking pieces of gravel at the squat trunks of the palms, the constant thwack of the stone against wood loud and irritating in the stillness. He jumped up as soon as he saw Silas, wanting to follow, bounding around him as he made his way over to where Mick waited.

Silas did not know why he went over. Brushing the flies from his face, he wished he hadn’t, and he opened his mouth
to speak, to ask if there was any problem, but Mick’s words silenced him.

Is she all right?
He was kicking at the gutter and his face was hard.

Silas did not know who he was talking about.

Well, is she?

Silas could see his own face reflected in Mick’s black glasses, that was all he could see, and he did not understand.

Who?
and in the instant he asked the question, he knew the answer.

Constance
.