Whisper (19 page)

‘Hi, poo-head,' he says, and even though he's not looking directly at me, I know exactly what he's saying. There are variations in his greetings, but most of them revolve around poo.

‘Hi, poo-brain,' I reply. He grins and gives me the thumbs-up, happy with our exchange, and keeps riding.

Nadia's house looks the same as it always has. The extension is at the same stage it's been ever since I've known her. There is a wooden framework on the second storey that might be completed by the time Nadia and Jasper have kids.

I knock at the door. Nadia opens it.

Without even saying hello, Nadia grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway. When we get inside her room, she shuts the door.

‘Does your mum know you've lost –' Nadia covers my mouth with her hand.

She does the sign for me to speak more quietly, and there's my answer. Nads is pretty crap at signing, but I suppose she learnt that one out of sheer necessity. I thought I
was
speaking quietly. It burns me that I still can't seem to get it right, but Nadia is all ready with pen and paper so I have to move on. Her writing is messy, but I'm used to deciphering it.

I'm freaking out. It's GOT to be somewhere in this house!!

I look at her, and see how pale she is. It was a big deal when Nadia's granddad left her the ring in his will.Other grandkids wanted it, and there were arguments that brought her to school in a rage one day and in tears the next, but she wouldn't let it go. They had a special bond, and him wanting her to have it meant the world to her.

And then it hits me. I was already deaf when all that happened.
I
looked after
her
.

Nadia's lips are trembling as she sits on her bed and writes again.

what's wrong with me? I lose everything that's important.

I sit next to her. When she looks at me, it's through the wobble of freshly formed tears.

My own throat gets lumpy, and I'm glad to have a pen because I would sound extra weird if I tried to talk right now.

It's OK Nads. Think back. When did u take it off?

And why?

I took it off when I had a bath last nite. Already looked in bathroom.

We peek out of her room to check that the coast is clear.

We both search the bathroom again. Nothing. We go back to her room.

What were u wearing before bath?

Dressing gown.

Bunny, elephant or penguin?

Elephant.

Nadia likes to rotate her dressing gowns.

I search the pockets of her elephant dressing gown.There's nothing there except for some snotty tissues. I think about tossing one at her. We've had plenty of snotty-tissue fights before. But she looks too sad as she flops onto her bed.

I point to her feet and she gets what I mean straight away.She walks over to her wardrobe and rummages around until she finds her ugg boots.

Sure enough, the ring is stuck in a clump of fur inside one of the ugg boots. She pulls it out and holds it up for me. I expect to see her punching the air, because she's an air-puncher when things go well for her. But there's no air-punching.

She sits next to me on the bed. The tears that have been hovering start falling.

‘Nads?' I ask. ‘Nads, what is it?'

Nadia wipes her eyes roughly, as though she's annoyed with herself for crying. I can see she's talking, but she has her hand in front of her mouth so I can't lip-read her. I gently pull her hand away.

‘I'm failing biology … I have to sit next to sweaty Sam.'

Nadia probably wouldn't have chosen to do biology if she knew I was leaving. I've always helped her with science.I always sat next to her and explained things to get her over the line. And sweaty Sam deserves his name – he has a serious BO problem.

I'm about to tell her that I can still help her, but she keeps talking.

‘… didn't think you'd ever leave … by myself … Shae and Stav … together … Tried so hard … deaf … I know … mistakes though … haven't … enough.'

She's wiping her face with her hand as she speaks so I miss bits. But I get the gist. I know Nadia is saying she tried hard when I went deaf, and I remember the early days, right after I went deaf. She was always there, always bringing me those crappy books, always hanging out with me in my room. She
did
try. And we were always together at school.

I get that all this has been really hard on her too.

She's been lonely without me there at school.

Maybe when she promised to care for me, she didn't mean it would be a one-way street. Maybe Nadia was right when she accused me of making everything about me.

It's horrible seeing Nads so sad. I know I've been pretty down on her recently. I've criticised her. But I don't like seeing
her
down on herself.

I can think of lots of times when I missed something and Nadia told me not to worry about it. I can think of other things she's done wrong, but maybe I never really explained how these things made me feel. Not clearly enough anyway.

‘What mistakes?' I ask.

‘… thing with Shae … your new friends, saying they looked retarded.'

I take in a sharp breath. I didn't think she knew how offended I was by that.

‘Your face dropped, like this,' she says.

She does an impression of my face dropping. It's actually pretty funny and I feel a little snort-giggle coming out of my nose.

‘Yeah, that was pretty bad Nads,' I say. ‘Especially coming from my
most
retarded friend.'

There are still tears in her eyes, but her mouth curves upwards.

‘Nads', I say slowly, and hope I'm not talking too loudly, ‘the girl at the careers expo who you thought looked really weird with her cheeks all puffed out? Keisha? She's a great signer because she uses her face as much as she uses her hands. It makes her easy to understand. See, signing isn't all about your hands, it's about expressions and body language too. All of them work together. Do you get what I mean?'

Nadia leans back against the wall, taking in what I've said.She nods slowly.

‘And the other girl, Erica,' I say. ‘If she sounds a bit like a robot, it's because she's only ever heard speech that sounds a bit robotic through her cochlear. It was really brave of her to talk out loud with you guys. She was really trying, you know?'

Nadia pulls a stray bit of fluff from her ugg boot and flicks it at me. I flick it back to her.

‘So, what are they like, these new …' I can see she's struggling to find the word.

‘Friends,' I finish for her. When I say that, I feel kind of shivery. I think of how I felt on my first day at the College, what I thought of all the others.

‘Keisha's a real sweetie,' I begin, smiling. ‘She's kind and she's funny and she's really open and a little bit kooky. She's totally in love with this guy called Luke, and she really went for it and now he likes her back.'

Nadia fluffs a pillow and puts it behind her head, like she wants to listen. Like she cares.

‘What about the others?' she asks.

I tell her about Erica and Cam and some of the teachers, and finally we arrive at Stella. Nadia remembers seeing her at the careers expo.

‘She looks really cool,' Nadia says. ‘Is she a bit goth?'

I nod. ‘She is a bit goth. She's also really smart and ambitious. She wants to be a photographer. Her pictures are amazing. They're all about what it's like to be deaf. She's really political about it. She reckons deafness is a culture and she thinks the deaf community should stick together.'

‘What? And ditch everyone who can hear?' Nadia asks.

‘No. Well, yes, I guess Stella does kind of think that,' I say. I don't want Nadia to know how close I've skated to the same thoughts in the past few days.

There's an uncomfortable moment as Nadia takes that in.When she speaks again, she's changed the subject.

‘So how're your mum and dad? And Flawless?' she asks.

‘Dad's fine,' I say. ‘Mum and Flawless are like this.' I cross my fingers. ‘Mum's always going over there, looking after the boys and cooking their dinner.'

Nadia tilts her head. ‘Why? What's up?' she asks. ‘That doesn't … like Miss Perfection. She's normally … under control.'

Now it's my turn to lean back against the wall and think.

Nadia's right. Something
is
going on with Felicity.

‘I don't know, Nads,' I admit. She's got me thinking about it, though, and I'm going to find out what's going on.

‘So, … more important … any cute boys?' she says.

It's funny in a funny-interesting way. I didn't even think of telling Stella about Ethan and the date and his horrible text.I guess part of me thinks that Stella might say I've brought it on myself by falling for a hearing boy.

But I can tell Nads. From beginning to end.

‘Maybe you missed something?' she offers, at the end of my story. ‘I mean, he … mad … didn't want … seen with you!'

I shake my head. ‘It's just how it is,' I say, and it's nice that Nadia keeps on and on about how mad Ethan would be to lose me. It's nice that she gets carried away, telling me that any boy would be happy to go out with me. Even though she's obviously wrong about Ethan.

Nadia looks up at the door. I follow her gaze and see her dad is standing there.

‘Hello, love,' he says. He has on his favorite apron, the one that says,
Paris, London, Barcelona, Colac
. ‘Stay for dinner?

It's curry. Chicken. No seafood and no mushrooms.'

I smile at him. I love how he remembers what I do and don't like. I love Mr D's chicken curry. But now I've started thinking about Felicity I need to check out what's going on.Felicity and Ryan's place is only a fifteen-minute walk from Nadia's.

‘Thanks,' I say to Nadia's dad, ‘but I have to go.'

‘OK, love. … every Sunday, hey? Holidays … couple of weeks.'

I'm looking forward to the school holidays, especially now that Nadia will definitely be part of them. I'm looking forward to Mr D's chicken curry too.

‘I'll totally be here,' I say.

Mr D gives me a thumbs-up as he leaves the room.

When I look back at Nadia, she's gone all sooky again, like she doesn't want me to go.

‘I don't want to lose you,' she says.

I point to the ring, now safely on her finger. ‘You won't lose me, Nads. I just went missing for a while.'

chapter 25

Ryan answers the door, wearing a suit and tie and rubber gloves. He doesn't normally do much housework.

‘Interesting look,' I say.

‘Yeah … thinking … patent it,' he says. ‘Good to see you, Dem.'

I follow him down the hallway and into the kitchen.

The kitchen table is littered with documents.

‘Been working … home … boys … your place. Your mum's … amazing.'

I can see into the playroom from here. There are toys all over the carpet. It's very un-Felicity. And there's always silence for me, but somehow it's more intense than usual.It's like the house is sighing a noiseless sigh, waiting for the boys to come back and stir it up.

‘What's going on?' I ask.

Ryan pulls a chair out and sits down heavily, still rubber gloved.

‘Stress, I guess,' he says, shrugging and looking pretty stressed himself. He frowns, like he wants to say more but doesn't know what it is he should say.

I want to turn back time, this time not just so I can hear again, but so I can see Ryan without this new frown, without the greying at his temples.

He points up the stairs with a rubber-gloved finger.

I am even more worried as I head up the stairs towards Felicity and Ryan's bedroom.

She's not asleep. She's sitting on the bed in her silky pink pyjamas. Her eyes are open, but there's a sort of vacant look in them. I pause in the doorway, not sure if she's registered I'm there. She's staring out the window. Her blonde hair is dark at the roots and she's pale. It's the first time in years I've seen her without make-up. It makes her look younger; sadder.

There are pills, reading glasses and a book lying facedown on her bedside table. I walk over and sit in the armchair by the bed. It's white leather, and I can see a child's handprint in something like Vegemite on the back of it.At least I hope it's Vegemite.

‘Hi, Dem,' Felicity says as she turns to me. She points to the drawer in her bedside table. ‘Too tired to sign,' she says.

I nod and take out a notepad and pen. It's a beautiful notepad with a purple and green cover. An image of Ethan in his purple footy jersey whirs through my mind. I push it out and open the notepad to the first page.

It's a virgin pad. Nothing is in it yet.

I take a deep breath. It's hard to know how to start, and I don't know whether to speak or write. But if I can't speak to my own sister without worrying about the way my voice sounds then I don't know who I can speak to.

‘What's wrong, Felicity?' I ask, in what I hope is a gentle voice.

She pulls her knees up under the bedcovers. I hand her the pad and the pen. Her handwriting is almost the same as mine. I've forgotten that. I've forgotten how I used to copy her until it became my own style too.

I wanted to be a good mum, you know?

I wanted to be a better mum.

My impulse is to say that she already
is
a good mum, but I don't. I don't want to give her platitudes. It looks like she needs more than that.

‘Better than who?' I ask. ‘Your mum, or mine?'

Mine. Yours is unreal. A lioness, all protection and love for us both. Mine was always too busy.Used to go to hers on custody nights and she'd get a babysitter. She'd come and show me how great she looked before she left. Like I cared.Then she'd leave a present on my bed.New clothes, stuffed animals. Blackmail.