Sally's Story

Sally's Story — page 3 — THE HOSPITAL The hospital again and the echo of my reluctant feet through the long empty corridors I hated hospitals and hospital smells I hated the bare boards that gleamed with polish and the ﬂashes of shiny chrome that snatched my distorted shape as we hurried past I was a grubby ﬁve year-old in an alien environment Sometimes I hated Dad for being sick and Mum for making me visit him Mum only occasionally brought my younger sister and brother Jill and Billy I was always in the jockey’s seat My presence ensured no arguments Mum was sick and tired of arguments We reached the end of the ﬁnal corridor The Doors were waiting for me again Big chunky doors covered in green linoleum The linoleum had a swirl of white and the pattern reminded me of one of Mum’s special rainbow cakes cream with a swirl of pink and chocolate I thought they were magic There was no magic in The Doors I knew what was behind them Sometimes I pretended Dad wasn’t really sick I imagined that I’d walk through The Doors and he’d be smiling at me Of course I’m not sick he’d say Come 7

Sally's Story — page 4 — and sit on my lap and talk to me And Mum would be there laughing and all of us would be happy Our entry into the ward never failed as a major event The men there had few visitors We were as important as the Red Cross lady who came around selling lollies and magazines Well look who’s here they called I think she’s gotten taller what d’ya reckon Tom Fancy seeing you again little girl I knew they weren’t really surprised to see me it was just a game they played After such an enthusiastic welcome Mum would prompt me to talk Say hello darling she encouraged as she gave me a quick dig in the back My silences were embarrassing to Mum She usually told everyone I was shy Actually I was more scared than shy I felt if I said anything at all I’d just fall apart There’d be me in pieces on the ﬂoor I was full of secret fears The men on the ward didn’t give up easily They continued their banter in the hope of winning me over Come on sweetie come over here and talk to me one old man coaxed as he held out a toffee My feet were glued to the ﬂoor I couldn’t have moved even if I’d wanted to This man reminded me of a ghost His close-cropped hair stood straight up like toothbrush nylon His right leg was missing below the knee and his loose skin reminded me of a plucked chicken He tried to encourage me closer by leaning forward and holding out two toffees I waited for him to fall out of bed I was sure he would if he leant any further I kept telling myself he wasn’t really a ghost just an 8

Sally's Story — page 5 — Old Soldier Mum had conﬁded that all these men were Old Soldiers She lowered her voice when she told me She had a fondness for them I didn’t understand I often wondered why Old Soldiers were so special All of these men were missing arms or legs Dad was the only one who was all there I tried not to look directly at any of them I knew it was rude to stare Once I sat puzzling over a pair of wooden crutches for ages trying to imagine what it would be like being lopsided Could I get by with only one of my monkey legs or arms That’s what I called them They weren’t hairy but they were long and skinny The Old Soldier rocked back on his pillow and I sneaked a quick glance at Dad He was standing in his usual spot by the side of his bed He never came forward to greet us or called out yet we belonged to him His dressing-gown hung so loosely around his lanky body that he reminded me of the wire coat-hangers in our hall cupboard Just a frame that was Dad The heart had gone out of him years ago Once Mum ﬁnished having a little talk and joke with the men we moved over to Dad’s bed and then out onto the hospital verandah The verandahs were the nicest place to sit there were tables and chairs and you could look over the garden Unfortunately it took only a few minutes for the chairs to become uncomfortable They were iron-framed and tacked onto the seat and across the back were single jarrah slats painted all colours of the rainbow When I was really bored I entertained myself by mentally rearranging the 9

Sally's Story — page 6 — colours so that they harmonised As Mum and Dad talked I sniffed the air It was a clear blue spring day I could smell the damp grass and feel the coolness of the breeze It was such an optimisti cally beautiful day I felt like crying Spring was always an emotional experience for me It was for Nan too Only yesterday she’d awakened me early to view her latest discovery I had been in a deep sleep but somehow her voice penetrated my dreams Sally wake up Even as I dreamt I wondered where that voice was coming from Faint yet persistent like the glow of a torch on a misty night I didn’t want to wake up I burrowed deeper under the mound of coats and blankets piled on top of me In my dream they were heavy and lacking in warmth I wrapped my hands around my feet in an attempt to warm them Sometimes I thought coldness and thinness went together because I was both Every night I’d call out Mum I’m cold And then to speed her up Mum I’m freezing Sally you can’t possibly be It was often her third trip to my bedside She’d lift up the coat I’d pulled over my head and say If I put any more on you you’ll suffocate The others don’t want all these coats on them I shared a bed with my brother Billy and my sister Jill They never felt the cold I’d crane my head over the moulting fox-fur collar that trimmed one of the coats and retort I’d rather suffocate than freeze Nan had only to add It’s a terrible thing to be cold 10

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