A Reason to Exist

Chapter 66

I finally pulled myself out of bed around 10.30am. The house was quiet. I poked my head into Tate's room.

'Where's mum?'

'Dad picked her up to get the car,' he said matter of factly, like this was not an unusual occurrence. Then he looked up at me and said, 'I heard about Tucker. I'm so sorry.' My eyes welled with tears because my brother had finally spoken like a human. There was a beating heart in that body.

'How was the show?'

'So good,' he said, before looking back at his ipad screen.

I made myself breakfast, gluten free toast with homemade peanut butter, and I sat at the kitchen bench flicking through a Home Beautiful magazine.

Mum arrived home and kissed me on the forehead. She was quiet while she made a pesto sauce with basil picked from the garden.

The minutes ticked by. I watched TV, read a book and had a long, hot bath. I felt empty and numb, moving through the world like an out of body experience. I thought about Tucker and his words 'I have a dissociative mouth,' and how we smiled and laughed. Every word he said was now loaded with double-jointed meaning, every gesture so important it should be on the daily news. My days with Tucker were dismantled, the future, a smoke alarm that wouldn't turn off. My pure, incurable love autocorrected to pain and fear. A split second. A glimpse. An I love you. A body smashed to the ground. A brave boy lying in a hospital bed with internal bleeding. Suspected haemorrhage. Soles of feet, please, please walk again.

After lunch, there was a knock at the front door. It was Sebastian. He looked pale. His grey tshirt had an oily stain under the Ripcurl logo. He stood on the doorstep with his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants.

'How is he?' I asked.

'He's awake. He's talking.'

'Thank god,' I said. My anxiety let out of a cage, finally flapping her wings.

I could hear my mother come and stand behind me in the hallway.

'He should be all right. There's internal bleeding and he's screwed his shoulder and elbow. His right leg is stuffed too. They're saying he'll walk, though. His body should mend.'

My mother put her arm around me and drew me in close.

'I'm so happy,' I said. 'That's so great.' Helium balloons were rising in the air again, the monochrome world was turning back into colour. 'It's so great,' I repeated. But I paused, wondering why Sebastian wasn't looking happy.

He cleared his throat. 'They've found something else. A cancer behind his eye when they did the CAT scan. They're doing another operation today.'

'What?'

'I know, yeah. Crazy. Just lying there dormant. If he hadn't had this accident we never would've known and the cancer would've gotten him. And it's nasty shit.'

My anxiety returned to her cage, wings clipped, voice box removed.

'Can we do anything?' mum asked.

'Yeah, nah. But, have you seen Diesel? We haven't seen him since yesterday morning, we've realised, with all this shit going on.' I looked at mum. A look of dread passed over her face.

She shook her head. 'I haven't seen him unfortunately. I'll do a cook up and bring your mum over some food, so she doesn't have to worry about cooking for a few nights.'

'Okay,' Sebastian said. 'Thanks.' He turned and walked down our front path, his shoulders carrying the unbearable grief of a loved brother in dire straits.

I turned and hugged mum, burying my head into her shoulder.

'What does all that mean?' I asked, feeling shell shocked. 'Is it good news or bad?'

She kissed me on the head. 'I don't know sweetheart. It's both, I guess. He's talking, which is wonderful news, and if the doctors say he'll be walking, that's what we want.'

'But this operation sounds serious.'

'It's amazing what they can do these days, darling. Let's hope for the best. We'll know tomorrow, yeah?'

Another 24 hours of waiting and not knowing. It felt as though Tucker was turning into a montage with sad music, that excerpts of the best days of his life were already being edited together. That the film credits would roll and no one had planned a sequel. Nostalgia placed a gas mask over my face and said 'be prepared.'

I took a deep breath into my diaphragm, as the nurse had taught me how to do, to try and stop the world from becoming foggy again. Mum and I walked down the hallway, into the kitchen.

'I'll make them a casserole and lasagne. What else do you think they'd like?' mum asked.

'You haven't seen Diesel? Are you sure?' I was still bothered by that look I saw on her face.

'I left the side gate open.'

'Mum!'

'He jumped over the fence yesterday. No one was there. I couldn't get anyone from next door. He was in the backyard wreaking havoc. I was too scared to go out there. He jumped back over the fence eventually. But I'd had enough. He ruined another zucchini plant. He's a mutt. So I opened the side gate, in case he got over again.'

'You have to find him,' I said.

'Macy ...'

'You have to find him. They have enough tragedy going on. You have to find him.'

'I wouldn't even ...'

'Mum. You have to find him.'

'All right. I'll call your dad.'

Dad had become her new go-to person. At last she realised they were both on the same team. They were the only two people in this world who cared for Tate and I as much as each other.