John Marsden - While I live

The magistrate glanced at her watch. ‘Ellie, unless you have some very strong objection to Mr Sayle taking on this role in your life I propose to make an order appointing him as your guardian.’

‘Oh I do,’ I said. Tears started stinging my eyes. ‘I don’t mean this the wrong way but I really don’t want him to do it.’

Fi’s mother stood up again, quickly. ‘This application by Mr Sayle has been totally unexpected, Your Worship. Perhaps Ellie could have some more time to consider her position.’

The magistrate made another note while I waited. I hated the idea that a stranger could make a decision like this in ten minutes, and change my life.

She closed the folder and pushed it away.

‘This is obviously more complicated than I first realised. I propose to adjourn the matter for two weeks and have another hearing on Thursday the third. I appreciate the need to have things clarified, but it’s also important that we arrive at the best possible outcome. That is all. Clerk, call the next case, please.’

‘Lee! ’ Gavin yelled. He was off his stool and across the kitchen and into Lee’s arms before I had time to put down the spatula and turn around from the stir-fry. Gavin always seemed to beat me to the hugs these days.

‘Good timing,’ I said. ‘I’m doing Thai.’

‘Yeah I know. I smelt it from the city.’

I met him halfway across the kitchen and we had our hug. He’d put on another inch or two, and he’d been tall before that. I felt off-balance. His intensity filled the room already. When I thought of Lee it was always images of the brilliant piano player, and the effective killer of enemy soldiers that came to mind. The pianist and the killer existed in him side by side.

I had no memory of his being at the funeral so as far as I was concerned I hadn’t seen him for ages. Except in my dreams. And I wasn’t sure if that counted.

‘Better get back to the stir-fry,’ I said. I needed an excuse and that lame effort was the best I could do. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘Only if you count a ham and tomato sandwich on the bus. Cost me seven bucks and tasted like a Chux. A very old Chux. The stir-fry is looking pretty good right now.’

I think he was nervous too.

‘I’ll do more noodles.’

I put some of the stir-fry aside for Gavin then chucked about a kilo of chillies in what was left. I knew how Lee liked his food, and I don’t mind the odd sinus clean-out myself.

‘So, where are your brothers and sisters?’ I asked. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve brought them with you?’

‘No, called in a few favours. A lot of favours actually. They’re all at sleepovers for the weekend. Sorry I didn’t ring but I couldn’t confirm it till this morning, and then when I did ring I didn’t get an answer. Guess you were at school.’ He slumped down on a chair. Not the broken one.

‘You guessed right.’

‘Geez, Ellie, how are you doing all this? Running the farm, looking after Gavin, going to school? I know you’re Superwoman but even she got knocked out by kryptonite. Or did she? Come to think of it I don’t know much about Superwoman.’

‘Neither do I,’ I said, serving up the stir-fry. ‘Gavin get over here and stuff this down your gob.’

‘How’s he been?’ Lee said as Gavin slid into the seat beside him.

‘Well, obviously better for you being here. Normally I have to tell him six times to come to the table.’

‘Are you having fun with him?’

‘Fun?’ I looked at him in shock, the spatula in mid-air. ‘What’s fun?’

He laughed. ‘Yeah, took me a while to figure that out too. But I finally got it with my brothers and sisters. I woke up one morning and thought “I’m not their father and I’m not their mother. I’m their brother and what’s more, I’m a teenager. Why am I trying to be a parent?” ’ He grinned at me. ‘I mean, of course we are like their parents. But we’re kids ourselves. We’ve got to do both, be their parents for some stuff but at the same time, muck around with them. It makes it harder in some ways, but it’s the way to go.’

I was eating slowly, listening to this. I realised almost at once how right he was. It had been the same in the later stages of the war. I’d lost my sense of humour, become tough and intolerant. I remember Fi telling me exactly that, one day up near Tailor’s Stitch. Now here was another friend, pointing me in the same direction. I could see how I owed it to Gavin to fill about fifty different roles in his life. And those roles included being a teenage big sister who had fun with him once in a while.

Lee was gasping for breath. ‘Wow, this is some stir-fry. Have you just brought in the chilli harvest? Look, I know this isn’t a very good time to be talking about fun, with your parents being killed and all, but in the long run…’

Yes, he was right. But at the same time I started to feel incredibly depressed. I pushed the rest of my meal away.

He watched for a minute before saying anything. Gavin kept eating but he was watching me too, between mouthfuls. I put my hand over my face, with my elbow on the table.

‘What’s wrong?’ Lee asked after a while. ‘Too much chilli?’

‘Nothing much. Just missing Mum and Dad. Oh, and wanting to be perfect. I think that’s all.’

‘Oh, that’s all? I don’t see the problem then.’

‘Very funny.’

‘You know the way life works?’ he said. ‘You’re on this moving footway. It starts with everyone telling you that you’ve got to get to the end. There’s a big pot of gold waiting, but if you don’t get there you’re a failure. So you try and try but you don’t make it. So you feel bad. So you try even harder. You still don’t make it. You feel worse. Some people try even harder after that. Some people give up and let themselves slide back to the start. So it goes on. That’s it. That’s life.

‘Oh, and by the way, you’re one of the ones who keeps trying harder.’

He leaned back. ‘And you know the big joke?’ He fixed his dark eyes on me. ‘There’s no pot of gold. Never was, never will be. It’s just an illusion. They show you photos of film stars going to the Oscars and billionaires on their yachts to make you think that they’ve found the pot of gold, but if you talked to them they might tell you the truth. Or they might still be running along the moving footway themselves.’

‘And then there’s death.’

‘Yes, sorry, left that bit out. You’re right, that’s the end of the walkway.’

I got up and filled a jug with water. I brought it back to the table and poured glasses for the three of us. He drank most of a glass without stopping. ‘I’d forgotten how good rainwater tastes,’ he said. ‘The city stuff is terrible. It’s got so much chlorine. Smells like a swimming pool.’

‘Yeah, well this has got wrigglers. Always has.’

‘Wrigglers I can live with.’

‘I guess I worry that if I let myself off the hook, if I don’t keep trying to be perfect, I’ll get too slack,’ I said. ‘I use that to motivate me.’

‘Ellie, trust me, you’re never going to get slack. Anyway, you can aim high and get a glimpse of the end of the footway once in a while and be satisfied with that. Instead of trying to be perfect.’

I didn’t say anything. I looked at the plates on the table and wondered if I had the energy to load the dishwasher. Then Lee got up and started clearing away. I’ve got to admit, that made me feel good. Gavin wasn’t too strong on household chores.

‘What have you got planned for tomorrow?’ Lee asked.

‘Saturday? Pick up sticks in Parklands so I can put the slasher into the baby broom. Prepare One Tree for a crop of lucerne. Clear more rocks in Nellie’s. Check the cattle, of course. We’ve got thirty-six baby calves. That’s not so bad, considering none of the cows exactly looked like they were lining up for Mother of the Year competitions.’