holdin’ her hand.
It was easier to look at Ma, as sick as she was, than it was to see the sadness in George’s eyes.
It almost took my breath away.
Or crushed my lungs. I couldn’t decide which.
“Oh, Charlie, Travis,” Ma said. “Come in, boys. I told the nurses you’d be coming. Didn’t have any trouble getting in to see me?”
I shook my head and put my hand on the foot of the bed. “No. They let us straight up.”
“We’ve only just got into this room,” she said. “Had all sorts of tests, but I can rest now they said.”
“Did they tell you anything?” I asked quietly. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“The doc’s gonna come back when he has the blood tests and biopsy results back,” George said. “He was hoping it would be first thing tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s good,” I said, not really sure what else there was to say. “We’re stayin’ at a motel not too far from here. Same one we stayed at before, so we’ll be back nice and early. How about you, George?”
He barely took his eyes off Ma. “They said I could stay here. Told ’em I could sleep in the chair here, but they were gonna bring in a fold-up bed or something.”
“Good,” I said, knowin’ he had no intention of leaving any time soon. “It’ll be dinner time soon, I’m guessing. George, you want us to go get you something? You too, Ma. I don’t know what kinda special diet they’ll have you on or nothin’, but I’d be thinkin’ whatever it is ain’t gonna be all that great. We can bring you back something better.”
Ma’s blinks were getting longer. “I might just have a sandwich and a cup of tea later. I’m not that hungry.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “George? What about you?” He was about to protest, but I added, “That way you won’t have to leave.”
He nodded. “That’d be good, thanks Charlie.”
“We’ll be back,” I told George. Ma was already asleep. I pulled Travis by the arm and it took every ounce of will power I had not to run as fast as I could out of the hospital.
* * * *
“God, that was awful,” I said, finally breathing in fresh air. “Fucking hospitals.”
Trav rubbed my arm. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a bit of a shock, ya know?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He took the keys. “Come on, I’ll drive.”
We climbed into the ute and Travis drove, only mumbling under his breath once or twice about what side of the road he was on. I thought we were headed to find something to eat, but he pulled up at a pet store.
“What are we doing?”
“You’ll see,” was all he said as he was getting out.
I followed him into the pet shop, past the puppies, fish and birds down to the kennels and produce. When he stopped at cat beds, I shook my head. “Oh, no no no. We’re not getting a cat. We used to have one, it lived in the shed and the bloody thing was feral.”
He didn’t even look at me. “It’s not for a cat, Charlie.” He picked up a cushion-box looking thing with a hole in the front. “It’s for your damn wombat.”
“Oh,” I said brightly. “Well, that’s okay then.”
He pushed Nugget’s new bed into my chest. “So he sleeps in his bed, not ours.”
A sales guy, about eighteen years old, walked up and was looking at us funny. He probably just heard what Travis said, and I didn’t care. I just shrugged, guessin’ that I’d come a long way in the last six months. “How did I know he’d think it was playtime?”
Travis sighed and turned to the sales assistant. “Do you have any feed pellets for wombats?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Wombats?”
I nodded. “Yep, you know, ’bout this big”—I held up my hands to show him—“shape of a brick, cute little thing.”
Travis took a God-fucking-help-me breath. “About a year old, pain in the arse, stubborn as hell, gets into everything type of wombat.”
The poor kid blinked. “Um, well, we have pellets for rabbits and guinea pigs, kangaroos…” he said, walking in what I
It was easier to look at Ma, as sick as she was, than it was to see the sadness in George’s eyes.
It almost took my breath away.
Or crushed my lungs. I couldn’t decide which.
“Oh, Charlie, Travis,” Ma said. “Come in, boys. I told the nurses you’d be coming. Didn’t have any trouble getting in to see me?”
I shook my head and put my hand on the foot of the bed. “No. They let us straight up.”
“We’ve only just got into this room,” she said. “Had all sorts of tests, but I can rest now they said.”
“Did they tell you anything?” I asked quietly. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“The doc’s gonna come back when he has the blood tests and biopsy results back,” George said. “He was hoping it would be first thing tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s good,” I said, not really sure what else there was to say. “We’re stayin’ at a motel not too far from here. Same one we stayed at before, so we’ll be back nice and early. How about you, George?”
He barely took his eyes off Ma. “They said I could stay here. Told ’em I could sleep in the chair here, but they were gonna bring in a fold-up bed or something.”
“Good,” I said, knowin’ he had no intention of leaving any time soon. “It’ll be dinner time soon, I’m guessing. George, you want us to go get you something? You too, Ma. I don’t know what kinda special diet they’ll have you on or nothin’, but I’d be thinkin’ whatever it is ain’t gonna be all that great. We can bring you back something better.”
Ma’s blinks were getting longer. “I might just have a sandwich and a cup of tea later. I’m not that hungry.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “George? What about you?” He was about to protest, but I added, “That way you won’t have to leave.”
He nodded. “That’d be good, thanks Charlie.”
“We’ll be back,” I told George. Ma was already asleep. I pulled Travis by the arm and it took every ounce of will power I had not to run as fast as I could out of the hospital.
* * * *
“God, that was awful,” I said, finally breathing in fresh air. “Fucking hospitals.”
Trav rubbed my arm. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a bit of a shock, ya know?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He took the keys. “Come on, I’ll drive.”
We climbed into the ute and Travis drove, only mumbling under his breath once or twice about what side of the road he was on. I thought we were headed to find something to eat, but he pulled up at a pet store.
“What are we doing?”
“You’ll see,” was all he said as he was getting out.
I followed him into the pet shop, past the puppies, fish and birds down to the kennels and produce. When he stopped at cat beds, I shook my head. “Oh, no no no. We’re not getting a cat. We used to have one, it lived in the shed and the bloody thing was feral.”
He didn’t even look at me. “It’s not for a cat, Charlie.” He picked up a cushion-box looking thing with a hole in the front. “It’s for your damn wombat.”
“Oh,” I said brightly. “Well, that’s okay then.”
He pushed Nugget’s new bed into my chest. “So he sleeps in his bed, not ours.”
A sales guy, about eighteen years old, walked up and was looking at us funny. He probably just heard what Travis said, and I didn’t care. I just shrugged, guessin’ that I’d come a long way in the last six months. “How did I know he’d think it was playtime?”
Travis sighed and turned to the sales assistant. “Do you have any feed pellets for wombats?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Wombats?”
I nodded. “Yep, you know, ’bout this big”—I held up my hands to show him—“shape of a brick, cute little thing.”
Travis took a God-fucking-help-me breath. “About a year old, pain in the arse, stubborn as hell, gets into everything type of wombat.”
The poor kid blinked. “Um, well, we have pellets for rabbits and guinea pigs, kangaroos…” he said, walking in what I
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