One Perfect Pirouette (15 page)

I ran out of the bathroom and down the corridor, searching for his room. There – but the door was closed. I peered in through the glass but there was no one inside, just Dad, lying with his eyes closed and the machines blinking and beeping around him. The nurses must be with other people. I turned the handle as quietly as I could until it clicked, pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it behind me.

The room smelled of laundry detergent and disinfectant, of strange medicinal smells and faint sweat. Dad seemed to be hardly breathing, but I could hear the gentle
whoosh
of his air machine, pushing air into him through a plastic thing in his nose. The big bag of clear stuff on the stand next to his bed dripped liquid into him through another tube taped to his arm. There was only one chair in the room, in a corner, and I lifted it over to his bed, sitting close enough so I could touch his hand. He was so still that if it wasn't for the air sound, I might've thought he was dead, but when I looked closely, I could see his chest rising just a tiny bit and relief rushed through me. He really was alive! And when I put my hands over his hand, it was warm and the hairs stuck up on it just like they always did.

I realised he wouldn't know I was there, but I felt a million times better being able to touch him and know that, so far, he was holding his own. I wanted to tell him lots of things, but if he couldn't hear me, what was the point? Somehow, it didn't seem to matter. Then again, maybe he
could
hear me. I'd read that people in comas could hear what was being said. So I knew I had to try.

chapter 23

I kept holding Dad's hand and watched his still face for any sign that he knew I was there, beside him. ‘Hi, Dad,' I whispered. ‘It's me, Brynna. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Mum's here and so's Orrin, and Tam's coming soon, too.'

Whoosh, whoosh, beep, beep.

Then it spilt out of me. ‘I had a bad dream, Dad. I know you always said bad dreams don't mean anything, it's just your brain getting rid of rubbish, but this one was real. It had Ms Ellergren in it and she was really mad at me.' I swallowed hard. ‘I'm not going to do the audition, Dad. I just can't, not now. I mean, I know I was feeling really down about it before and thinking I'd fail, but it's not that. Truly, it's not. I'm not a quitter – you know I'm not. But this is different. You're more important than anything. I'd give it all up so you'd get better. Not that I think giving up ballet would save your life or anything.'

Whoosh, beep, whoosh, beep.

‘But that's our family, isn't it? We do stuff for each other, like you and Mum moving down here so I could do ballet. And now this has happened and you're not going anywhere for a while, so I've got to help Mum now.' Tears rolled down my face and dripped onto the white cotton bedcover. I didn't want to let go of Dad's hand. ‘I'll still keep going on Saturdays, because I think we can work that out and it won't matter if I miss a few, but I know the Ballet School isn't going to be possible now, and I can apply again next year. They'll understand.

‘So don't you worry, Dad. We want you to get better, without worrying about stuff for us. We'll manage, but we need you to come back, Dad, we need you to be our dad. That's more important than anything. You promise?'

I wished that his hand would move, or that his eyes would open. I wished that he'd say, ‘That's not a problem, Brynna, I'll be out of here today and it'll all be back to normal.' But I knew he couldn't.

I lay my head down on the bedcover, my hands still over his, and closed my eyes. I wasn't tired, I just wanted to stay there and rest a bit longer.

‘Brynna. Brynna.' A hand shook my shoulder.

‘Go away. It's not school today.' My brain slowly woke up and told me I wasn't in my bed at home and I jerked upright. ‘What!'

Mum bent over me. ‘How long have you been in here?'

‘I dunno. What's the time?'

‘It's after eight. Tam's here and your Uncle Tony.'

‘Are they coming in to see Dad?' I asked. Dad! I glanced at the bed, but he still lay there, unmoving.

‘They might be allowed in for a couple of minutes. Come on, the nurse wants us out of here. They need to do checks on your dad now.'

I followed her out and the nurse patted my shoulder. She didn't seem to mind that I'd been in there so long. In the waiting room, Tam and Uncle Tony stood by the window, their faces drawn with worry. Orrin sat in a lounge chair, drinking coffee from a paper cup and screwing up his nose at the taste. I hugged Tam and Uncle Tony and they both held on for a long time.

‘Sitting with your dad, were you?' Uncle Tony said, sniffing.

‘Yeah. But he's still unconscious.'

‘What's the latest then?' he asked Mum.

‘The same. They're waiting and watching. Either this afternoon or tomorrow, he'll have a CT scan on his brain. They said if something is happening in there, it'll take a day or two to show up.' She sighed. ‘So far, it's a skull fracture. Hopefully, nothing else will go wrong inside his head.'

Uncle Tony winced. ‘Should you be telling the kids this?'

‘We all want to know exactly what's happening,' Orrin said. ‘It's not knowing that sends you psycho.'

‘What about the other injuries?' said Uncle Tony.

There were more?

‘Broken arm, cracked ribs, a neck injury that they can't do anything about right now apart from keeping him in one place and seeing how it goes.' Mum sat down suddenly as if her legs had given way. ‘At least he's alive. That other poor man –'

My tummy gurgled so loudly that everyone heard it and swung around. My face burned, but Mum smiled. ‘Life,' she said. ‘You're right, Brynna. We've got to eat, breathe, do our best.'

‘Sorry,' I said.

‘It's breakfast time,' she said. ‘Your tummy's just reminding you of what we'd forgotten. Being in this place is like living in another time zone. Tony, they said they'll let you and Tam in for a couple of minutes, but not yet. Why don't we go and get something to eat, and come back in a while.'

So we all piled into the lift and ate scrambled eggs and toast and coffee in the cafe downstairs. Even Tam was smiling a bit, once his stomach was full. When we went back up to the ICU, the others were allowed quick visits to Dad, but I stayed outside. I could see through the window that he was the same as before.

Mum decided we should go home and have showers and get changed, then she and Uncle Tony went back to the hospital for a couple of hours. Tam, Orrin and I tried to watch TV, but there was nothing on worth watching and we were sick of all our DVDs. Orrin went for a run and I thought about some ballet exercises, but I couldn't bring myself to even get my shoes out.

How would I let Ms Ellergren know I couldn't do the class? I could call her, but I couldn't think how to explain it in a way she'd understand. But if I went to the studio, I'd see the other girls and that'd make it so hard to pull out. It was after three and I had to decide what to do or it'd be too late for anything. Mum had rung from the hospital to say Dad wasn't having his scan till five o'clock, so she was staying until after it was done.

I rang Ms Ellergren's number, but no one answered and she didn't have voicemail – not that I would have left a message anyway. That would really have sounded like I didn't care. I had to go to the studio. If I talked to her early, I could get out of there before anyone arrived.

Orrin came in from his run, puffing and red-faced. I explained where I was going. ‘Does Mum know?' he said.

‘Where I'm going? No, I only decided just now.'

‘No – does she know you're not doing the class?'

‘I can't go to class with all this happening. Everything's changed.' I searched for my backpack. ‘Have you got any money? I need a ticket for the bus.'

‘But we organised everything so you could do this special class. You can't chuck it in. What about the audition?'

I couldn't bear to think about that. The class was hard enough. I stared at the label on my backpack until I'd forced the threatening tears away. ‘Mum needs our help. We don't know what's going to happen with Dad. Even when he comes out of hospital, he won't be able to go back to work, not for ages.'

‘But –' He looked around as if hoping Mum would materialise and stop me.

‘There's no point going to the class and the audition isn't going to happen. Mum and Dad'll need the fee money they're going to save. Even with a bursary, we can't afford the Ballet School. We might even have to go back to Bendigo.' With my jaw set, I held out my hand. ‘Money? Please?'

He sighed. ‘I think you're making a big mistake. You should talk to Mum first.'

‘I can't. The last class is tonight and I'll probably be back at the hospital, like you.' I took the five-dollar note he gave me. ‘I couldn't dance properly anyway, not with Dad lying in that bed, all bandaged up.'

‘Fine, then.' He held up his hands. ‘But you can explain to Mum when she gets home.'

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. My throat ached and I wanted to get out of the house as fast as I could. Besides, I wasn't going to tell Mum anything. She had enough to worry about. I was taking one of the worries off her plate.

The bus dropped me in the street next to the studio and by the time I walked there, it was after four-thirty and the door was open. Hearing the faint tinkle of the piano, I slipped inside and gazed at all the ballet photos for a few minutes. One day that would be me, but not right now. I crossed the foyer and pulled open the studio door. Inside, Ms Ellergren was leaning over the piano, talking to Mimi.

‘We'll start with that one, I think, and try the Mozart second' she said. As I approached, she turned and smiled. ‘Brynna, you're nice and early.'

‘Um – I'm not here for the class, Ms Ellergren.' Her smile flipped over into a frown and my feet faltered, then I kept moving and came to a stop in front of her. ‘I can't do the class. I'm very sorry. I really wanted to but – my dad –' I swallowed hard and had to take a couple of breaths. ‘Dad had an accident at work and Mum's at the hospital and I can't do the audition on Friday either. Things at home just aren't – right.'

‘Are you sure?' Her voice was gentle. ‘Tonight's class is not a problem. And your father might be much better by Friday.'

I shook my head. ‘It's changed everything. It's the money, too, that's part of it, but if Dad – when Dad can come home, he'll need looking after and Mum can't do everything on her own. The Ballet School program won't be possible.'

‘Surely you can still audition?' She looked as sad as I felt.

‘No. Can you please let them know? I can't – I don't know who to call.' I stared down at the floor, trying not to cry. What good did tears do? They didn't help. ‘I'm sorry I let you down. I think I can still come to class on Saturdays, if that's all right.'

‘Of course it is. And I'm sure we can still work something out. You're a very talented dancer, Brynna. I'll talk to your mother in a few days, when things have improved, and –'

‘No! It'll be fine. Thank you. Please call the School for me. That's all.' I turned and ran from the studio, before I exploded into a million tiny pieces. At the outer door, Stephanie was just coming in, her fancy white and pink ballet bag over her shoulder. I pushed past her, head down, wanting to get as far away as I possibly could from everything that reminded me of ballet and what I'd just given up.

But Stephanie couldn't resist opening her big mouth. ‘You'd better not miss the last class,' she called after me. ‘You need all the help you can get.'

I skidded to a stop and swung around. ‘You're the one who needs help. Someone should choreograph a nasty ballet just for you.'

As she gaped like a stunned goldfish, I shoved at the outer door and walked into the dull, grey afternoon.

chapter 24

I stood at the bus stop and couldn't help smiling at the way I'd wiped the gloating expression off Stephanie's face. That was the only good thing that had happened all day. Then I thought about Dad lying in the bed like a mummy and realised I'd just given up the audition I'd worked towards for years, and it felt like my heart was being squeezed inside my chest. When the bus came, I could hardly find the energy to climb up the steps and find a seat.

Mum still wasn't home when I got back, so I peeled a heap of potatoes and put them on to cook. There was cold sliced ham in the fridge and frozen peas. That'd have to do. I had no idea what time Mum and Uncle Tony would be home.

Tam slouched into the kitchen. ‘Are you cooking?'

‘Not really.' I told him what there was to eat. ‘Yuck,' he said. ‘Can't we get pizza?'

‘No, we can't,' Orrin said, coming in behind him. ‘You can have ham sandwiches if you don't want vegies.'

Just as the potatoes boiled, Mum and Uncle Tony came in, carrying a big parcel of fish and chips. Mum turned off the boiling pot and we all sat round the table, stuffing our faces. Mum said the scan on Dad's head hadn't shown anything and she and Uncle Tony talked about the words the doctors used –
prognosis fairly good, but we won't know more until he regains consciousness.
Then they added other doctor-type words that made it all sound even worse and I stopped listening. My eyes wanted to close and I wished it was bedtime already.

‘Brynna.' Mum was helping me up from the table. ‘Come on, clean your teeth and hop into bed.'

‘But it's not time yet.'

‘Near enough.' She pushed me towards the bathroom and I didn't object. Sleep. That was what I wanted. If I went straight to sleep, I wouldn't have to toss and turn and think about missing the audition. Sounded good to me.

I woke early and lay there, looking out at the trees in the backyard. They were fruit trees and at this time of the year, their bare, grey branches looked like bony arms. Some of them were even bent into ballet positions.

Ballet. I didn't want to think about that. Oh well, it would make Lucy feel better if I wasn't in the special class. Or going for the audition. Would Mum make me go to school today? Did I want to? I kind of did, because the alternative was either hanging round the house all day or hanging round the hospital in the waiting room.

I got up and washed my face, then found a clean bowl and filled it with corn flakes and milk. I made myself a hot Milo and sat at the table, munching away and watching the clock hands tick round. I heard a groan in the lounge room and Uncle Tony staggered out, scratching his head with both hands, his hair up on end.

‘Coffee,' he muttered. ‘Got to have coffee.'

He made himself a cup and sat opposite me at the table. ‘How ya going, Brynnie?'

‘Good.' I kept eating. ‘Are we going back to the hospital today?'

‘Your mum and I are. I don't know about you kids. She was talking about sending you to school. Except for Tam. He'll have to come with us.'

‘School.' Maybe school would be all right, as long as no one asked me what was wrong. ‘I'd better get ready then.'

‘Ready for what?' Mum asked, shuffling in in her bunny slippers.

‘School.'

She sat down next to me and gave me a hug. ‘You don't have to go if you don't want to. But it might be better than sitting in that place all day.'

‘Mmmm.' I didn't want to say what I really wanted, which was for everything to go back to the way it was two days ago.

‘What's this Orrin was telling me about your ballet class?'

I stood up quickly and put my bowl in the sink. ‘Don't worry about it. I've talked to Ms Ellergren. It's fine.'

‘But we didn't –'

I was out of there before Mum could say any more and the fact that she didn't follow me and want to talk about it told me I was right – she couldn't deal with the extra problem the audition created right now and I'd done the right thing.

It was just that the right thing felt like a huge weight on top of me. But I had to get over it. There would be another chance. If I kept telling myself that, I'd be fine.

What I didn't count on was that Lucy had already heard I'd dropped out, and she was desperate to know why. Probably because she was hoping she'd get my place.

‘Is it true?' she asked, grabbing my arm to stop me from walking into class. ‘Did you just not turn up last night?'

‘Of course I turned up,' I said. ‘I talked to Ms Ellergren and everything.'

‘But – you weren't in the class. Kate rang me.'

‘So?'

‘So she said there were only five there last night. And Ms Ellergren wasn't very happy. What happened?'

‘Things at home have changed, that's all. Ms Ellergren understands.' It was almost a lie, but I didn't care. And I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't care, didn't care, didn't care. If I just kept saying it, it'd be true. ‘Come on, we'll be late.'

Mrs Nguyen smiled at me as I entered the classroom. ‘How is your father?' she asked softly.

‘They're still waiting. He's still the same.' I hoped she'd be happy with that. Mum must've rung the school, but I didn't want to explain anything to Mrs Nguyen either. I went and sat down before she could say any more. At recess and lunchtime, I took a book and walked to the furthest end of the school grounds, where I hunched down behind a tree and read, the words blurring as I tried to block out the other kids yelling and running round. I knew Jade and Lucy wouldn't come looking for me.

After school, I got home to find an empty house again and my heart sped up till I found Mum's note on the table.
We're at the hospital. No change. Just visiting. Back at 6. Love Mum.

More than two hours away. TV was boring. I was sick of reading.
Ricky.
Would he be waiting at the youth hall for me? Or would he let me down again? I wanted him to be there. I desperately needed to see a friendly face. I changed into dancing clothes and put my ballet shoes in a bag, but I doubted I'd be doing any dancing. What was the point? Besides, it just reminded me of what I'd lost, and how pleased Stephanie would be. Maybe Ricky and I could go to the milk bar and have an ice-cream or something.

He was waiting outside the hall, on the wooden bench with only two slats left on it. The others had long been smashed off. ‘Hey. Why the long face?'

All day at school, no one except Lucy and Mrs Nguyen had even looked at me properly, let alone noticed how sad I was, yet he'd seen it in two seconds. I wanted to burst into tears, but that would've freaked him right out. I pressed my lips together hard, then said, ‘My dad had an accident at work. He's in hospital and he's really bad.'

‘Man, that's not cool at all. You must be on a real downer.'

I sat next to him, perching on the slats. ‘It's horrible. He just lies there, like he's never going to wake up again.'

‘Those ER shows on TV, they say a coma's a good thing, you know.' He mimed putting a stethoscope in his ears and listening for my heartbeat. ‘Yep, the heart's good, the brain just needs a bit of rest.'

‘Yeah, right.' I smiled at him. ‘Dr Ricky to the rescue, huh?'

‘For sure. I'm a doctor when I've got time off from being a basketball star.' He nudged me. ‘Suppose you don't wanna dance, then?'

‘Um –' I thought about it. I could tell he wanted to and I thought it might stop me dwelling on Dad and Ms Ellergren. ‘Yeah, why not?'

As we warmed up, I decided to put him in front of me for a change. ‘You can show me how to do it,' I said. ‘Inspire me.'

‘Just call me Ricky Magic Nureyev,' he said, curtseying low. ‘The
bell-ay
dancer with the best slam dunk in history.'

A giggle spluttered out of me and, shaking my head, I lined up behind him. This was going to be one bizarre practice session. And it was. He put
Swan Lake
on again and we spent half the time laughing and slapping our hands over our mouths so the bald man wouldn't hear us and throw us out. The other half of the time, Ricky danced whatever he felt like and I followed, copying even his most peculiar dance sequences, some of which had nothing to do with ballet at all. It was such fun and for once my body fell into the music and I responded with my heart first.

We said goodbye at the corner of my street. ‘You take it easy, now' he said. ‘Your dad'll be cool. I know these things.'

I shrugged. ‘If you say so.' I wished I could believe him, but it seemed like so much had gone wrong lately that was out of my control. I had to keep hoping, but Ricky was no magician. As I got closer to our house, I could hear music blaring – some kind of heavy metal song with clanging guitars and a singer who shouted. The neighbours would be feral. Was it Tam or Orrin?

Orrin. He was in the lounge, doing push-ups while the music deafened him and the windows rattled. Too busy grunting as he bobbed up and down, he didn't see me. I found the volume knob on the player and turned it down.

‘What did you do that for?' He collapsed onto his stomach. ‘I still had forty to go.'

‘You'll have forty neighbours lining up to kill you, more like it.'

‘Just a bit of motivation music. Where have you been? Mum rang.'

‘I was at the youth hall.' I chewed on a fingernail. ‘What did she say?'

‘They'll be home soon. We're gonna eat, then go to the hospital.'

I sat down, fast. ‘Why? What's wrong?' I had a picture of us all around Dad's bed, getting ready to say goodbye to him, and tried hard to shake it out of my head.

‘Nothing. Dad's come to at last, although he still can't talk. They said we can visit him tonight for a while.' He started his push-ups again. ‘Forty-one. Forty-two. Turn the music up, will you?'

I did as he asked, only not as loud, and wondered if I should join him. That was what my life had been like lately – up, down, up, down – so push-ups might have helped me. But I had homework to do, to catch up on what I'd missed in class, so I dragged the books out of my bag and sat at the kitchen table. By the time Mum, Tam and Uncle Tony came home, I was finished.

‘Brynnie, did Orrin tell you about Dad?' Mum's face was one big smile.

‘Yes. That's good news, isn't it? When can he come home?'

‘Not for a week or two, probably. But at least he's conscious.' She patted my shoulder. ‘Before we go back to the hospital later, you and I need to have a little talk.'

I nodded. This was going to be about the audition, but it was too late. Ms Ellergren would've cancelled my appointment time already. It was too late to fix what I'd done. I was still sick about it, but the horrible feeling was fading just a tiny bit. Maybe one day it would go away.