Kookaburra (formerly untitled) Ch.TWENTYTHREE

That moment when his eyes flutter open is the moment my heart beats again.

It’s the moment I feel it kick start, feel the engine rev up inside of me. It’s the minute after flat lining, when no-one’s sure if you’ll live or die, but they know you’ll keep on going. Because we all keep on going until the very end.

“I’m sorry.”

Kaden apologises too goddamn much. I tell him this as I stroke his hair, revelling in the glory of his green eyes.

“I know. But this time I really am sorry.”

“Why?” I say. There’s no-one else in the room with us. This is an apology from him, to me. I can’t think what he has to apologise for.

“Because you were right, and I told you that you weren’t. I lied to you, and I lied to myself. You were telling the truth all along. I was destroying myself.”

“Kaden, sweetie, it’s all gone now…” I sooth, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“But it isn’t,” he insists, wriggling away from me, ignoring my attempts at calming him. “I’m still in hospital, still in a bloody gown for Christ’s sake. If it was all gone, we would be home, and I would be able to hug you properly without an IV drip getting in the way. But look at me. I’m still a wreck. You can still pick out every single bone in my body.”

“Kaden, you’ll get better, you will…”

“But I won’t. People like me don’t get better.”

“People like you? Kay, there’s no one ‘like you’. You’re special, you are. 100% unique. Maybe even 110, if you’re lucky…”

A small smile escapes from his lips. “I doubt that.”

I smile, and bend down to kiss him, but straighten up again quickly at the sound of an ‘a-herrrm’.

“Hello again, Mr McKenzie.”

“Hello again, Dr Price,” says Kaden, mimicking his condescending tone exactly. I suppress a laugh, slightly weakly, so it comes out as a strangled giggle. Dr Price glances down at his chart, clearing his throat again, probably in some attempt to avoid the mass of pink trying to invade his cheeks.

“Mr McKenzie, I need to discuss the full details of your treatment with you.”

“What treatment?” I interrupt.

Dr Price shoots me a death glare. “The treatment for Mr McKenzie’s condition. The issues he has with anorexia and bulimia must be addressed.”

“Addressed?”

“That is to say, Mr McKenzie will probably have to go an – an institution of sorts.”

Kaden’s hand finds mine and squeezes gently. I squeeze back, because I know that he needs comfort. And I know that I do too.

“What kind of institution?”

“One for adolescents with eating disorders, most likely.”

“Like a mental home?”

“It’s a large country house. Wonderful gardens, beautiful interior…”

“Where is it?”

“Devon.”

“That’s miles away!” I exclaim, Kaden’s hand slipping from mine.

“Scott, sweetie, please…” Kaden sits up, trying to take my hand again.

“You can’t take him from me! I won’t let you take him all the way to fucking Devon!”

“Mr Willis, I’m sorry, but there’s really no alternative.”

“No alternative? There’s always an alternative!” I’m suddenly conscious of myself, of how stupid I must look, hair dishevelled, face an unwashed mess, screaming at a doctor who’s trying to help the boy I love. But he’s not helping, because Kaden being five hours away isn’t going to help either of us.

“Scott, there isn’t.” Kaden’s hand rests lightly on my arm. I turn to look at him. He’s almost crying. “I’m sick, I know that. Really sick. If I don’t get help, I… I’ll die. Just die. I have to do this Scott, I have to.”

“But…” But there is no ‘but’. He’s right. I have to let him do this. “I’m gonna go find Cal,” I murmur, before the tears have a chance to spill out, and push out of the room.

***

I eventually find him, slumped over a cafeteria table, hand clutched around a half drunk cup of coffee. Matt’s sitting opposite him, chewing on his nails. He waves uncertainly when he sees me. I wave back weakly, and walk over to them.

“Hey, erm, Matt?” I say, rubbing a hand across the back of my neck. “I… kinda need to talk to Callum. Like… alone.”

“Oh… oh…” he says, realization splashing into his eyes. “Okay, well I’ll just… I’ll just go.” He gets up and makes a hasty exit out of the canteen. I sit down in his place, poking Callum in the shoulder. He mumbles something and raises his head up.

“Fuck you…”

“Tired?” I say, trying to hide the humour creeping into my voice.

“Fucking shattered. Hospital coffee is crap, do they actually put any caffeine in it at all?”

“No idea…” I say, looking around at the blank faces. There are people everywhere, visitors, doctors, patients, all crammed into one stuffy room. The walls barely look big enough for all their stories.

“So, what’s with you, grumpy guts? How’s the loverboy?”

Er. “Not good.”

“Aw, dude, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Oh god, not another ‘sorry’ person. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because… because you love this guy, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but…” my breath catches in my throat.

“But what?”

“But… I don’t know what.” I push a hand through my hair. “He’s going away, Callum. To Devon, fucking Devon.”

“Oh.” Callum doesn’t seem to know what to say. I don’t blame him. There’s no perfect answer he could give me. They’d all be tainted with clichés and naiveties. “Why?”

“To fix him.” Because when you’re that broken, there’s nothing else to be done.

“Like a dog?”

“Fuck off, Callum.” But there’s humour. There’s always humour. There’s always laughter. There’s always joy. You just sometimes have to search a little until you find it.

“So… what’s happening?”

“I really, really don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

We’re both silent for a minute. Somewhere far away, a baby cries. A strangled sob of crushed innocence, quickly hushed by some overprotective, overbearing, overheated mother. I figure this is what I have years left of. This is the complete extent of our fraternal bonding. Or so I think.

“You always were the favourite,” Callum says, quietly, as if he’s been contemplating this for some time, and barely means for anyone to hear it. His eyes are fixed a few inches over my left shoulder. It’s slightly disconcerting.

“I was – what?”

“You were always Mum and Dad’s favourite. The best, most important. They loved you more.”

“Cal, come on, that’s not true. I-“

“Yes, it is. I’m not picking at you here Scott, honest to God I’m not, but you were their favourite. There’s no point denying it. It’s the blatant truth.”

“Mum and Dad never loved me more.”

“They obviously did.”

“Why?”

“Because Mum always fussed over you, always bought you things, always treated you. And Dad… Dad never laid a single finger on you. He never even touched you, because he loved you.”

“He loved you too.”

“Of course he did. But only in ways that left bruises in the morning.”

“Callum, I…” I don’t know what to say.

“And now, you have someone else to love you. You have this guy, this guy Kaden. I want so badly for you to be happy, Scott, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you to be. From what I can tell, he gives you that, makes you that, and I reckon you give the same to him. But he has a problem, and he’s got to solve it. Because if he doesn’t, then sure, you might get a few more months, but it’ll only end badly. So just think about it – what’s better? A few more months of happiness with him, and a life without, or a few months without, and him being happy for the entire rest of his life?”

I’m completely taken aback by the profound truth of what he’s just said. “Jesus Callum, that’s the deepest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

He smirks. “I know. Sleep being stolen out of my hands does that to me.”

***

And so I thought about it.

And I made my decision.

“I’m really gonna miss you...”

“I know. Me too,” murmurs Kaden. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocussed, and I wonder what the hell kind of drugs they’ve put into him.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. I have to stay here overnight, then I get transferred.”

“Do you really want to go?” I ask, before I can stop myself.

“I told you already, I’ve got to.”

“No you haven’t, Kay.”

“Yeah, I have. If I don’t, then there’s not gonna be anything left for me.”

“And what is there in Devon?”

“There’s hope, Scott.” Suddenly he’s focussed, focussed on me, his green eyes piercing. “There’s hope in Devon, and maybe a life I can borrow.”

And there’s no arguing with that.

“You won’t forget, will you Kay?”

“Forget what?”

“Forget me. Us.”

“Of course not. I’ll always have Us. I’ll never lose it. I’ll never let Us go.”

“And you’ll keep in touch? You’ll write, and phone, and… and email?”

“Sure I will.”

“Do you promise?”

“I can promise to try.”

My fingers touch his, snaking round them, holding his hand tight. “Kaden, please promise me you won’t give up.”

“Love never gives up on anyone.”

“That’s not a promise.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s a wish. Something to make true.”

“Then we’ll make it true.”

“We’ll make it true.”

And we will.