Sisterchicks Down Under (13 page)

“I guess I like being around the speech therapists so much
because I see how they give the patients hope. When you’ve spent your whole life depending on talking as your way to get your thoughts across, it’s horrible to have your voice taken from you.”

I was on my soapbox now and sat up straighter. “Most people think the worst part of a stroke is losing the use of an arm or not being able to walk without assistance. What no one understands is how debilitating it is to lose your words. If you can’t talk, people ignore you. They don’t try to interact with you. Your needs and your opinions go unnoticed and unheeded.

“Whenever a speech therapist breaks through with a patient, that’s when I say, ‘This has been a good day.’ Those are my favorite days. It doesn’t mean every patient has the ability to train his throat and mouth to form words again. Some of them learn sign language or learn to write short thoughts on a pad. One therapist designed a special board for Mr. Harris that had big colored dots. Red for no, green for yes, yellow for hungry … it was so great. I loved seeing Mr. Harris’s face light up when he discovered he could communicate again.”

I paused to take a breath, and with a shrug I added, “I get a little passionate about this, I guess.”

Jill grinned. “So, why aren’t you a speech therapist?”

“Because I only went to community college for three semesters.”

“So?”

“So, it takes a little more education than that to work as a speech therapist.”

“So why don’t you go back to school?”

“Because …”

I didn’t finish the sentence because I didn’t have a good reason. I hadn’t seriously thought through the option in a long
time. So much of my life had been about helping out with Tony’s mom while she was still alive and then getting Skyler to college. Tony and I had worked hard to make sure she had the chance to go all the way through college and receive her BA. The past six months I had been focused on working as many extra hours as I could to pay for remodeling the kitchen. I hadn’t spent any time thinking about the remodeling I could do in my life.

“I don’t know; I don’t know why I can’t go back to school.”

“I think you should,” Jill said.

We left the topic out on the table, as the train rolled through a series of tunnels. My thoughts were experiencing the same light sensory changes of rushing through darkness into light and then back into darkness. First light, then dark. Light, dark.

Maybe I could go back to school … No, that’s crazy. I can’t do it … Yes, I can … No, I can’t … Why not?

We rolled through a long tunnel and emerged with the shimmering South Pacific Ocean on the right. The sand that lined the shore was dark as obsidian and littered with kelp. Not a person was in sight.

The train slowed, and we could see from our observation car that we were coming into a town along the dark sand of Kaikoura Peninsula.

“Look!” Jill pointed to the ocean. “Dolphins!”

A dozen of the gray creatures were leaping in the blue water less than a quarter of a mile from the train.

“Wow! Did you see that one jump? It looked like it spun around in the air.”

The train came to a stop, and the mellow-voiced conductor let us know we were taking a five-minute respite, in which we were allowed to get off the train and stretch our legs.

“Let’s get off,” Jill said. “We can take a closer look at those dolphins.”

We exited the train, aided by the kind hand of a uniformed railroad assistant. Stepping through the small train station that doubled as a souvenir and snack shop, we walked out onto a broad cement patio. Below us, down the stairs, was the dark sand and pebble beach and beyond the sand were the rolling waves and playful dolphins.

“Look at them!” Jill pointed to the ocean. “They are having so much fun out there.”

As the next large wave curled, we could see more dolphins rising in the surf.

“They are so sleek,” she said. “I think dolphins are amazing, don’t you? Look at how happy they are.”

“They are.”

Jill turned to me, “Come on! Quick! Let’s run through the sand and touch the water.”

Suddenly Jill was the land dolphin, dashing down the stairs, ready to play. “I’ll race you,” she called over her shoulder as soon as her feet hit the sand.

I rushed down the stairs and fiddled with my shoes and socks until my feet were naked.

Just then the train whistle sounded. Our five-minute respite already was over. The train was ready to leave.

Jill was at the water’s edge, waving with big arm motions for me to join her. I pointed back at the tracks and yelled, “The train is leaving!”

She motioned again for me to come, her feet playfully kicking a spray of salt water in my direction. In a split second, I made my decision and ran to the water. One of us had to be the designated driver when Jill went into her intoxicating flirt
mode. This time she was flirting with nature. I barely touched my toe to the wet sand and hollered over the roar of the surf, “We have to go!”

“Wait! Just look!”

A nearly translucent wave was cresting so close to shore that we could have swum out to meet it, if we were strong enough. In the curl of the wave we saw two dolphins, their noses jutting forward like the balancing arm of a surfer. The dolphins were riding the wave together.

Jill and I turned to each other with expressions of wide-eyed, open-mouthed wonder. We tilted our heads back, shooting our full-hearted laughter into the air the way the care-free dolphins were shooting the curl.

Over the blend of joyous sounds we heard the faint train whistle one more time. Jill blew a kiss to the dolphins and the sea. I grabbed her by the wrist, and together we dashed bare-footed through the sand, up the cement steps, and through the gift shop. The conductor was just lifting the footstool and giving the all-clear sign when Jill and I blasted out on the landing and cried out, “Wait!”

“Almost missed the train, ladies,” the conductor said.

“No, we almost missed the moment,” Jill said with her fabulous, free-spirited laugh following me into the train compartment.

We bustled our way back to our seats as the chugging motion of the train began. Our faces were bright as sunbeams. Our hair was wild and crazy from the sprint in the wind. The sedate passengers in our car gave us strange looks.

Jill didn’t seem to mind them a bit as she took her seat. “That was awesome,” she said, alive with glee. “How incredible! Wow!”

I nodded, still catching my breath. My heart continued to
race. We twisted in our seats as the train pulled away from the Kaikoura station, and we strained to see another glimpse of the surfers.

On the table, invisible, but definitely left there from before the train had stopped, was the possibility of my going back to school. The possibility of my becoming a speech therapist.

At that moment, anything seemed possible.

Two days later, I confided in Tony all the thoughts I’d pondered during the last part of the train ride. The morning was crisp, and I’d joined him on his walk to work so we would have a chance to talk. The last two days he had been working extra hours, and I wasn’t ready to present the topic of going back to school until I had his complete attention.

“What do you think?” I asked after I’d spilled out all my ideas for school options.

“Go for it.” Tony leaned over and planted a kiss on the crown of my head. My husband is gifted at seeing the big picture and editing it down to its most concise form. I knew I had his blessing, and it was up to me to think it through from there.

Later that day I sat with Dorothea for four hours and told her everything about the trip. This time, Mr. Barry didn’t hide discreetly in the kitchen. He pulled up a chair and listened to my stories about Evan, the singing punter; Hika, the descendant of a Maori warrior; and Jill, the dolphin chaser.

I stopped in the middle of my description of the calm-water crossing we had on the ferry and realized that what I enjoyed about the getaway hadn’t been the sights we had seen or the foods we had tried. The experience was rich because of the people.

He tangata, he tangata, he tangata.

It’s the people, it’s the people, it’s the people.

I spent the next few days thinking a lot. When the rain kept me inside on Thursday, I sat in our one comfortable chair for many hours listening to the pings on the garage’s roof. I had two medical books Mr. Barry had loaned me when I told him I was eager to learn more about what happens when a person has a stroke. When Tony came home, I summarized for him everything I’d learned. I couldn’t believe how energized I felt.

The next morning, I toted my umbrella and took off on the slick sidewalk to meet Jill at the Chocolate Fish. I anticipated a long, leisurely, all-morning conversation, but Jill started off with a question that redirected everything.

“I have a huge favor to ask,” she said as soon as we took our places at what had become “our” table by the window.

“Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

“You better wait until you hear what I’m asking.”

Before Jill could say anything else, Tracey came over to our table with grand “hallos!” and lots of hugs. Pulling up a chair, she looked at us and said, “Do tell all. I’ve been dying to hear about your trip.”

Jill and I took turns with the highlights, as Tracey listened intently.

“You girls have it made,” she said brightly. “Where are you off to on your next lark?”

“We don’t have any plans,” I answered for both of us. “But wherever it might be, you’ll have to come with us.”

“Right!” Tracey paused before adding, “Or we could just drive around town and see how many lawn ornaments we can run over.”

The three of us shared a great laugh.

Tracey stood and pushed in her chair. “The kitchen calls!”
With a more serious expression she added, “This is my place for now. My time will come to flit around like you two, but for now I belong here. For you two, this is the time of your lives to have the time of your lives.”

Tracey left Jill and me at our window table with a flippant, “Ta!”

I looked back at Jill. She was biting her thumbnail.

“So, what were you going to ask me before Tracey came over?”

She took a sip of her mocha latte. “I had such a great time in Christchurch.”

“I did, too.”

“So much has changed for me since you showed up here, Kathy. And that’s part of why I want to ask this favor of you. I was going to ask on our way home on the train, but I didn’t want to sound like I was imposing.”

“You? Imposing? Never.” I knew what it was like to suddenly feel flustered when everything was going great. Apparently neither of us was willing to push too far in one direction or another and risk upsetting the balance that had come to us so easily at the beginning of our relationship.

“Okay, here it is. My niece is getting married next weekend. I told my brother-in-law I would come, and I know they’re counting on me, but ever since I mailed back the RSVP card, I’ve been, trying to think of how to decline.”

“You don’t want to go?”

Jill closed her lips, hesitating before quietly saying, “I want to go. I just don’t want to go by myself.”

“I’d be glad to go with you.”

“Well, there’s another little detail you should know before you agree. The wedding is in Sydney.”

A
ustralia?” I asked.
“The wedding is in Sydney, Australia?”

Jill nodded. “James was planning to go with me, but now he’s pulling back because of exams.”

I’d met Jill’s youngest son, James, the day I went to her home to book our on-line tickets for Christchurch. He was a tall, good-looking young man with dark, expressive eyes. He seemed intently interested in everything his mother had to say, which I thought was amazing and admirable.

Then I realized that James probably had been trying to fill the void his father had left and was trying to be responsive to his mom’s concerns.

“I told James I’m fine going to the wedding by myself. It’s a very small family affair, which is why my brother-in-law was so persuasive about James and me being there. We’re the closest relatives on his side in this hemisphere, and there’s no reason for me not to go.”

“But …” I tried to draw out of Jill what she was thinking but not saying.

“But I don’t think I want to go to Australia by myself. Traveling is the last ‘alone’ thing I’ve had to tackle. I didn’t think anything of the trip when James was planning to go, but now …”

“Jill, you don’t have to say anything else. I would love to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m sure Tony will be all for it.”

“It’s such short notice.”

“That’s okay. I don’t have anything on my calendar I need to cancel.”

Jill still looked hesitant, as if she were asking too much of me.

“Hey.” I reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “Relax, it’s dolphin time. The sun is shining; the surf is up. Let’s ride the wave together. What did Tracey just tell us? This is the time of our lives to have the time of our lives. We’re going to Sydney!”

A smile came to Jill’s face.

I told her about one of my longtime friends in California who had been sending e-mails to me via Tony’s work e-mail. “Last time she wrote, she said that I’m supposed to have an extra adventure for her. See? I have to go to Australia with you so she can vicariously experience the adventure.”