Drowning in Her Eyes (6 page)

Helen said,
“I don
't think that will be enough. I think he needs some direction. He seems to be spending a lot of time with Amy O
'Neil. It wouldn
't surprise me if he is already a
c
tive in that area.
”

Paddy was secretly pleased at this. He had been no saint in his youth, and understood what a powerful libido he had. He never espoused it, but he thought of sex as a wonderfully fulfilling game, with the ultimate pleasure at the end of it. He was immensely grateful that Helen was a willing and a
d
venturous partner. He had heard many of his mates co
m
plaining of their wives
' indifference to sex and, in many ca
s
es, active avoidance of it.

“We won
't have to wonder what Jack wants to do, an
y
way. It will be
Ballinrobe
or bust for him.
”

“Paddy, has Jack spoken to you about the army? He told me he wants to go to the Royal Military College when he finishes school and become an officer.
”

“What?
” said Paddy.
“Over my dead body! Look at some of those blokes that came back from the war. Mad, some of them, or pisspots. I won
't see my son end up like that.
”

“
Our
son you mean,
” said Helen gently.
“I still think he deserves his chance too. It
's not like there is a war on.
”

Meanwhile, not far to the north, in a small country in Indochina, the number of US military advisors ha
s
do
u
bled. They
are
about to be joined by the first
thirty
mil
i
tary advisors from Australia. An undeclared war was about to get serious.

Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA
—1963

On this Wednesday morning, Dr
.
White looked out the window at the city of Albuquerque. He had moved here from Chicago several years ago, fleeing the cold, crime, and co
n
gestion. It had been a good decision. He had prospered here, and his family loved it. However, it had not been all beer and skittles. Today was one of the bad ones. He hated this part of his job. In his waiting room was a patient to whom he was to deliver the worst of news, a young man with a family and a good career ahead of him. He was about to sentence him to death.

As the nurse ushered him into the doctor
's office, Ji
m
my was still hoping for the best. This morning he had felt better than he had for a while, but he reasoned it was prob
a
bly adrenaline-
fueled anxiety giving him a high. He was ushered to a chair, greeting White with a nervous smile.
“Mr. Baker,
” White commenced,
“I guess there is no easy way to say this. I am afraid that you have
Mesothelioma
, a cancer that rarely responds to treatment and is inevitably f
a
tal. There are many treatments I can apply, surgery, chem
o
therapy and radium treatment. All of these will have bad side effects, some quite debilitating and painful. You should talk this over with your family. You should also obtain a second opinion if you think you need it. I am sorry I cannot offer you better news or a better prognosis. This condition is us
u
ally caused by exposure to asbestos fibres. Were you ever a miner or a processor of asbestos material?
”

“No,
” replied Jimmy,
“But I spent nearly four years in the Navy and there was a lot of asbestos insulation in those ships. Could that have been the cause?
”

“Probably,
” said White
.
“
Y
our condition is not u
n
known amongst Navy veterans.
”

Jimmy said nothing for a long time. He could not get his head around this news.
“So how long have I got?
”

“It is very hard to say. Your condition may progress very quickly. On the other hand, if you are lucky, you may have two years. I can promise you no more than that.
”

Jimmy then asked him the question he always dreaded.
“If you were me, what would you do?
”

Dr
.
White hesitated.
“Even if you undertake any of the treatments I have suggested, your disease will not be cured. Indeed, surgery may exacerbate your condition, since di
s
turbing the cancer may stimulate it into more rapid deve
l
opment. Chemotherapy and Radium both have serious side effects. You will lose your hair. You will spend long periods in hospital, and endure much pain. If I were you, I would let the cancer take its course and use what time you have left to enrich your life and that of your family. If you can afford to, take a nice vacation, travel, treat yourself to a new car or do whatever takes your fancy. Enjoy what time you have left.
”

Jimmy forced himself to his feet.
“Thank you for your frankness, Doctor,
” he said.
“I will give earnest consider
a
tion to what you have told me.
” He took the elevator to r
e
ception. In a semi-
dazed state, he phoned Margaret to tell her he would not be at the office for the remainder of the week.

“Are you all right?
” s
he said.
“I
'm just a little off
co
l
our,
” he replied.
“I
'll see you Monday.
”

He crossed the street and began to wander aimlessly. Eventually, he found himself in a small park and sat on a bench in the cool shade of some trees. It was a lovely day. There were children playing on the green lawn. A couple of boys about James Junior
's age were punting a football, bursting with energy. He could hear a couple of warblers calling high up in the trees. All around him were the sights and sounds of normality, but now they had a particular p
i
quancy. He looked at passersby as if he had never seen them before, and indeed, he had not, not with his new view of the world. How many of them knew when they were going to die? How many were thinking of loved ones left behind, of a life cut down in its prime?

He sat for a long time and considered his new life. It was to be brutally curtailed, but he was, in a sense, set free by the knowledge. His family would
be
looked after. He had a substantial insurance policy, and Marci had her home in Worcester. They could sell the house in Albuquerque and he had substantial savings, along with a large block of company stock. Money would not be a problem.

Marci saw the change in him as soon as he opened the door. Her face crumpled into tears.
“Oh, no,
” she wailed,
“is the news that bad?
”

He nodded.
“You
're looking at a dead man walking,
” he said,
“but I have come to terms with it. Now we must speak of how to make the best of a bad situation.
” He looked at her face, at the bottomless depths of her wonderful brown eyes, and he felt his resolve ebb away. She took him in her arms and all the horror and tension burst forth. He began to sob uncontrollably.

They did not tell the children, although Susan looked knowingly at her mother. She was closest to her father, and sensed something was worse than her parents told her. Later she confronted her father.
“Daddy,
” she said,
“are you really ok
ay
?
” Jimmy looked into another pair of brown eyes and felt a great sadness. He may never see his Susan grow up or see his grandchildren. He blinked back his tears. He had to be strong for them all.
“I
'm ok
ay,
Princess. The best is yet to come.
”

Goondiwindi, Queensland, Australia
—1962-
63

Helen was right. Jack Riordan had tasted the apple, and it tasted damn good. Like most boys his age, he had been fascinated by the idea of sex for a couple of years now. Like most boys his age, he could hardly believe his parents had done this, were probably doing it right now! He used to li
s
ten for clandestine sounds of sexual activity without success. Like most other boys of his age, his great fear was that he would die before he had had a chance to experience it. At the end of his second
to
last year at school, he had become aware of his body and its needs. The first time it had ha
p
pened involuntarily, the result of a delicious dream. Now he was like a fox terrier in the presence of a rat. He could not wait to begin.

Goondiwindi in 1962 was still a small country town of
twenty-
five hundred
people. Most knew each other, and Jack, as the son and heir of a prominent station owner, was well known to most of the town, more so since the story of his proficiency with a rifle had passed into local lore. It was no handicap either that he was a good-
looking young man, tall, and with thick black hair. Some thought he had a sligh
t
ly rakish air about him, one more attribute valued by the l
o
cal girls. No matter where you are
—
Angels love bad men
.

Jack was not old enough to possess a driving license, but he knew the local Sergeant of Police, a friend of his f
a
ther. Sergeant Ernie Molloy often came to
Ballinrobe
to fish and shoot ducks.
He knew
Jack was a proficient driver,
and
like
with
most bush kids, but warned him off the main roads.
“And don
't drive in town, either,
” he said.
“If I catch you at it I
'll give you a bloody good kick up the arse!
” Molloy had very large feet and very heavy boots, so for the next year, Jack used to drive to the edge of town and walk half a mile to the main street.

The main entertainment for young people in town co
n
sisted of a couple of milk bars, run by gregarious Greek i
m
migrant families, and the local open-
air picture theatre. Pubs were out of bounds
—
the legal drinking age was twenty-
one
—
so the options available to a young courting couple were very limited, especially when they were so recognisable in the town. No matter where you went, you had to pass one of the five pubs. There the drinkers gathered on the verandas and hanging out of the windows had a good view of all the girls with their beaus, and were not above offering all kinds of helpful advice.

Not all the girls were available. The patriarchs of the Greek families kept their daughters well hidden. There would be no uncivilised Australian husbands for them! The various churches held sway as well in an age before personal freedom and the advent of female contraceptives. Most would not risk hellfire for the sake of a few minutes
'
plea
s
ure. Virginity was a precious commodity. How else could a girl first attract and then trap a decent husband?