The Timor Man (43 page)

Melbourne

As the wind grabbed at his coat and chewed eagerly at his ears
he tried to protect himself from the unexpected cold. Stephen, more accustomed to the tropics than to Melbourne's bitter and deceiving Spring wind, shivered. He kept his arm around Wanti's shoulders, occasionally adjusting the thick woollen cap and scarf to keep her warm. Her near ankle-length coat covering the chic trouser suit provided suitable protection from the sudden gusts of wind. Stephen had taken her into the David Jones store and asked the fashion department supervisor to select something appropriate for his wife. Satisfied that the clothes would be warm enough, he had then taken her for a stroll, walking aimlessly as he pointed out buildings and churches and other historical places of interest. Wanti appeared to enjoy these walks, although there was no real indication that this was so. He just presumed that his wife was content to wander through the shops and parks as he hadn't observed any resistance to these outings. Nor was there any recognition that she understood anything of what he said during the walks.

The City Fathers continued to maintain the country's financial centre amidst never-ending and well-cared for parks and gardens throughout the Central Business District. Footpaths and jogging tracks wound their way through extensive settings of well-groomed lawns and garden beds.

Partly shaded circular beds of Lobelia dwarfed by the garden's tall sturdy palms would normally have warranted a closer look, but the weather was not really conducive to the mood he had wished for as they strolled along. Stephen walked slowly, hoping that she would enjoy the magnificent display of flowers as he deliberately detoured through the park's gardens.

The sky was grey. Not unusual for the State's capital. The weather had never been one of Melbourne's strong points, he remembered.

He slowed, pointing to a monument. As he explained its significance, Stephen felt that perhaps she really understood, as if his wife was in some sort of conscious coma in which she recognized what was actually taking place around her but, at the same time, was unable to respond or even participate in the moment.

As they left the park, Stephen steered her across the street to the two-storey late nineteenth century wooden and stone structure. There were several highly polished brass plates affixed to the front columns informing the public in an almost intimidating manner that this was the address of Doctor Raymond D. Phillips, M. B. B.

S. D. P. M. Australia M. R. C. psych. F. R. A. N. Z. C. P. They had arrived at the specialist's rooms. He looked at Wanti's smiling face and, as he had often done

before, stroked her cheek gently and reassuringly with the back

of his palm.

“
You don't have to do this, Manis
,” he said.

Wanti smiled, her mind trapped, locked tight and shut away securely from the real world.

“
I will take you back to Jakarta today. All you have to do is say ‘yes'
,” he pleaded.

She continued to smile as if pleased just to hear him talk. Stephen hesitated. He looked once more into her eyes searching for any signs of response. Then he took Wanti by the arm again, leading his wife up the steps and along the corridor to the doctor's reception. He placed her on a chrome and leather chair then attended to the registration details.

“Mr Coleman,” the woman began, “how do you wish to arrange for payments for your wife's therapy?” she continued, leaning forward inspecting the uncompleted forms.

“Whatever is required,” he answered, offended by the woman's tone and angry that this conversation was taking place in Wanti's presence.

“We accept most major credit cards if it is of any assistance. Or,” she continued, rattling off the well-rehearsed routine, “if you're a member of one of the recognized medical schemes we can make the necessary arrangements for you. ”

“Whatever,” he responded tersely, counting out two thousand dollars in cash and placing it before the astonished woman.

Stephen was very annoyed and not just because of his helplessness in dealing with Wanti's illness. The couriered letter he'd just received warned him that his absence was jeopardizing the imminent contract Seda had put into place for the Hercules Aircraft re-fit and spare parts supply.

This was, he knew, a huge order and one which would generate significant profits for their
kongsi
. Stephen could understand Seda's concern over his absence but was irritated by his lack of compassion and how the General arranged his priorities.

The receptionist checked the registration forms and asked that they both wait for Dr Phillips. He sat impatiently.

After some time they were escorted into the doctor's studio room. Wanti remained still as he checked her eyes and reflexes, occasionally speaking to her softly as he carried out his thorough examination. Stephen sat and listened to the specialist then deliver a lengthy synopsis regarding his new patient's condition.

It made little sense to him. He just wanted to get it over and leave. The doctor explained the procedures he would apply and the probabilities of success with the new therapy. The treatment had recently been introduced from the United States Veteran Trauma Centres.

Stephen listened. He was told that it was unlikely that Wanti would totally recover from her latest seizure. The doctor had seen many similar cases of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome among the returning Australian soldiers from Vietnam. He should prepare for a lengthy and expensive period of therapeutic care.

Stephen just nodded, occasionally looking out through the small dusty window and across the park. He could see a couple sitting there, together, a blanket across their knees as they fed the pigeons. They were old.

As the doctor droned on Stephen listened, suddenly very tired and depressed. He looked over at his beautiful, silent wife. Her eyes were still devoid of any signs of awareness of her situation. The doctor made a few more notes from his observations and promised Stephen that his wife would receive the very best treatment available.

He took her back to the Southern Cross Hotel. In a few more days he would leave her with Albert, under the care of the specialist nursing service he'd engaged through the doctor to watch over his wife. They had been employed on an open ended arrangement, for an undetermined period of time to ensure her care and guarantee constant surveillance on a full time basis. He had the money. He was wealthy and wanted desperately to provide nothing but the very best for her.

They entered the hotel room and Wanti smiled as he passed her hand to the attendant nurse. He left the double roomed suite and went directly down to the lobby bar, returning only when he thought she would already be asleep. Stephen stayed just long enough to throw down enough double Chivas Regal whiskies to put him to sleep before riding the lift back up to the seventh floor.

He unlocked the door and went to the adjoining room. The nurse looked up and smiled then placed a finger to her lips to indicate that Wanti slept. Stephen returned to the interconnecting room and undressed. He tried but couldn't sleep. And when morning came he still lay awake wondering what it was that this beautiful and loving person had done to deserve her cruel condition.

 

The arrangements were then all in place. Wanti had commenced treatment under one of Melbourne's finest doctors. At first, Stephen had considered placing her with his mother, but then rejected this idea. Her distant, almost aloof, attitude reflected her disappointment with his insistence on discontinuing his career with the government. Now, his marriage to a woman of Asian extraction had rendered his mother just another distant observer in his life. But he didn't want to leave her solely under the care of doctors and nurses.

Albert had been quick to make the necessary arrangements when asked and had even offered to accommodate them in his own home. Stephen considered his friend's offer and accepted without reservation.

It was an almost perfect solution. During the day Wanti would attend therapy at the specialist's clinic. When she returned to Albert's home in the late afternoons there would always be someone close by who understood her language and would watch over her. He would be her father, her family, and Stephen's constant liaison with his wife.

Stephen felt deeply indebted to his old friend. He was more comfortable knowing that, whatever her needs, Albert would be there to provide the friendship and attention Wanti would need during her treatment and convalescence. Having escorted his wife to Australia, met with her doctors and discussed the course of therapy the specialist had prescribed for Wanti he felt there was little else he could do. The doctors had agreed that her therapy should assist with the recovery progress and, hopefully, enable her to re-enter the world of reality. After coming to arrangements with Albert and the nursing team he became impatient to leave.

Stephen remained in Melbourne for what had seemed to him a long and painful three weeks. Each day he accompanied his wife to the clinic, waiting patiently for her to complete the sessions before taking her downtown to Melbourne's exciting fashion centres. Remembering her passion for shopping he'd hoped, wildly, that once she saw the array of fine clothes and specialist shops along Collins Street maybe, just maybe, Wanti would acknowledge something or even somebody. It had made little difference. If anything, she was totally indifferent towards her husband, except for her constant willingness to smile.

The specialist had explained that this behaviour could be an indirect result of the fact that she had not known, or perhaps even seen, a foreigner before the tragedy she had witnessed as a child. There could be some association, but it might never be known, as he could not be sure. The doctor had expressed confidence that as Wanti underwent concentrated therapy and, hopefully, slowly recovered, these barriers would disappear. Maybe she would remember the events leading up to her most recent seizure, permitting her mind to come to terms with what had precipitated the total withdrawal.

This was not exactly what Stephen had wanted to hear. He needed to have someone tell him that she was going to be all right. That she would recover. And soon.

He had to return to Jakarta. He really had no choice as his company operations were experiencing difficulties and only he could overcome the administrative mess that had piled up during his short absence. He'd phoned Hart, but there was little his personal assistant could do considering the confidentiality of the off-shore arrangements.

He booked his flight and informed his friend, his dear friend, Albert.

Albert was exceptionally kind to Wanti -and she appeared more at ease sitting quietly listening to his former teacher read in her own language. Whenever Stephen attempted to communicate he was always rewarded in the same manner. Wanti just smiled.

Albert cautioned his younger friend to be patient. “
Sabar, sabar, Mas
,” he would advise, understanding some of the frustrations the husband must overcome.

“
I just feel so bloody helpless. The doctors have no idea how long she will be like this,
” he indicated, pointing at his wife, now sitting silently as she gazed out the window.

“
It will take time, Stephen. You must be patient
. ”

“
I can't be patient, Albert, I have a multi-million dollar company to run. Every day I'm away is a day closer to another major cock-up which, if I'm not careful, could end in one almighty and expensive disaster.”

“I
must get back and pick up the reins again. It's pointless my staying here unless someone can tell me realistically just how much longer it will be before Wanti can at least show some signs of recovering from the trauma.
”

As Albert looked at his friend he observed that not all of the apparent agitation was related to his company's pressures. The older man sensed a feeling of guilt. He understood that Stephen didn't want to leave her alone, locked in her own private world, which no other could enter. Albert was extremely sad for he recognized that this man had deep and sincere feelings for the woman sitting quietly across the room.

“
Stephen, I will take care of Wanti. The housekeeper is not entirely necessary. However I do understand your concern for her well being. ” Albert then smiled. “It will be a welcome change having people around the house again. I accept your offer for the domestic staff. It's time someone else washed and ironed my clothes,
” he added, attempting to lighten the conversation. Stephen had insisted. He could well afford the service.

The ladies had been selected from a local suburban agency. He had also arranged for a regular taxi pick-up from both Albert's home and the clinic. Everything had been methodically organized to ensure Wanti's comfort and to prevent her presence from becoming a burden to his old friend.

The two weeks passed quickly and, with mixed emotions, Stephen bade farewell to Wanti and Albert. He returned to Jakarta and was soon absorbed in the increased demands upon his energies. Although his mind constantly flashed images of the beautiful young woman he had left behind, as the weeks passed by, Stephen realized that he too should face reality and accept the increasing possibility that Wanti might never recover.