EPISODE 3 OF 5
Jessica rushed out the door of the IGA as soon as it was knock off time. Her arm caught in the twisted sleeve of her overcoat as she tried to pull it on. “Jess” she said to herself “get it together, the Chemist will be shut if you don’t get a move on!” Once her coat was arranged, she was able to move more freely as she ran down the street. Jessica had good reason to be stressed. Her father was very ill and had not responded to the previous courses of antibiotics. She rang him at lunch, he was much worse. “I’m calling an ambulance” Jess told him, but he wouldn’t have it. If Jacob Ryan had a fault, it was stubbornness. He was a stubborn old farmer. Jess rang again in the afternoon but there was no answer. Getting home with the new drugs was top priority. Waiting for the busy pharmacist was painful. “All he has to do is get them off the shelf, put a sticker on them and throw them in a paper back for God’s sake!” she reasoned, “Oh please hurry up!” nagged her thoughts. When the Pharmacist wanted to explain the possible risks of taking this medication with other meds”… bla bla bla…” she didn’t hear a word. “Just hand the dam things to me!!” her thinking screamed at the man in the white coat. Her pretty face continued to smile politely. Paper bag in hand Jessica hurried to the bus stop to catch the 239. What a relief to sit on the bus and get the weight off her feet.
Staring out the window, the bus passed a homeless man preparing the footpath for his bedroom. Her mind sprang alive. It was only a matter of months ago and the street was her bedroom to. Thoughts now alive again…
“That’s the reason her dad is so ill. No, its not the full reason, we would not of been on the street at all if it wasn’t for Mr John Steely, that low life.” Life on the street was tough. It was hard to get work let alone get a place of your own. Eventually Jessica scored a job at the IGA a couple of suburbs away and things began to look up. But not for Jacob.
His health deteriorated and the depression continually stole away hope.
Arriving home she rushed into the bedroom. He was quiet, too quiet. There was no colour. “Dad? I’ve got your antibiotics. Dad dad??” Jess knelt beside the bed and took his hand. There was a lack of life warmth.
She knew the truth as soon as she had seen him, but what we know as true and accepting reality doesn’t always align quickly. A cup of tea will make it better, he always likes a cup of tea. Boiling water missed the cup as her panicked hand shook in the pour. The sting of splashing boiled water woke her mind.
Tears flooded the eyes and overflowed. Unable to complete the task Jessica replaced the kettle, sank to the floor and wept bitterly.
At the corresponding moment, John Steely sat with eyes downcast. He was hearing the words but was having difficulty digesting any meaning. “It’s bad news I’m afraid John,” reported the specialist, “The cancer is very aggressive. There is nothing more I can do. It is always difficult to predict, but I would say 6 months maximum. I will refer you to the palliative care unit. They will organise a care plan. I am very sorry.”
John Steely couldn’t quite take this in. Three weeks ago things were fine, well, at least he knew there was a problem but you know the saying; ‘you can’t keep a good man down!’ Besides there is always too much to do. He had convinced himself that the headaches were merely stress related. Seems now that he should have listened to his body a long time ago. An inoperative brain tumour just sounds ridiculous. Surreal. It couldn’t happen to him – he was John Steely, the business tycoon. He had built up his empire, Steely Enterprises, and was just beginning to enjoy the good life. He had everything, but now… what happens now? Six months? It must be a mistake! Only six months???