1
The first cars roll into the Bondi Beach car park well before dawn. The night isn’t really night there. There are too many streetlights and car lights, especially from the all-night taxis cruising the beachfront for an opportunistic fare. The beach is colourless, empty and cold. The pre-dawn brings with it a change of the guard. It sees the last of the night people. The drunks, the drug addicts, the lost and misplaced just fade and disappear with the darkness as if they were part of the darkness themselves. And at the first sign of purple light, a new group appears. They are defined by the same energy as the approaching dawn. Some appear in cars while others walk down to the beach from the many residential streets, from just behind all the shops and restaurants that crowd the beachfront. They are there to run, swim, stretch and breathe deeply as they witness again, in wonderment, the miracle of another golden, Bondi Beach sunrise.
2
It was Tuesday morning. Adam was fast asleep in his bed as the first rays of morning light spilled over the South Pacific horizon. The phone rang. Shocked out of his sleep he groped for the phone. He was attempting to answer it without actually waking up. He had done it before. If the call was short enough, like a wrong number, it was possible to answer it and just keep sleeping. He picked up the handset and put it to his ear.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Adam, it’s me. Sorry to call you so early.’
‘That’s OK, Nancy … ugh … what’s up?’
‘You were asleep and I woke you, I’m sorry, but I had this dream. It was so weird and you know I never dream.’
‘Ahh, yeah, that’s what you always said.’
‘I’m sorry to wake you so early … I just wanted to … I really love you and, please Adam, can you take it the wrong way this time?’
‘Boy, Nancy, what’s got into you this morning? Are you OK?’
‘No, I’m not. I’m afraid, Adam, so afraid.’
‘What? What are you afraid of?’
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‘That’s just it, I don’t know what I’m afraid of. This is the weirdest feeling; how shall I describe it? It’s like my body’s afraid, petrified, and I don’t know why. I woke up like this.
There’s just this powerful fear, like chills running up and down my spine, and I haven’t got a clue what for. I’m just so scared, Adam.’
‘You mentioned a dream?’
‘Yeah, and I haven’t had anything, not even a smoke. It was so real, so vivid, so expansive and panoramic. I was driving down a highway, and you know that I don’t drive.’
‘Yeah …’
‘The sky was bright blue and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. I was driving along this wide-open, gently-winding road, snaking its way through these low, green hills. You could see the road for miles ahead and I remember, that’s right, there were no trees on any of the hills. In fact, there weren’t any trees anywhere and there weren’t any other cars on the road, coming or going. I seemed to be alone. Anyway, as I came cruising around this sweeping bend I noticed, in the far distance, one solitary tree, a dead tree on top of one of the hills. Am I making any sense?’
‘Sure, sure, go on.’
‘The tree and the hill it was on were still in the far distance, but I could see that the road was going to take me right past it, and here comes the weird bit, it sends chills through me just thinking about it.’
‘What could be so scary about a dead tree?’
‘Plenty, Adam, plenty. I’m driving down the winding road, around the green hills, watching the dead tree getting closer. As I’m getting closer, the tree is changing shape because I’m seeing it from a different angle all the time. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Anyway, I’m getting closer and the dead tree is changing shape and … and … just as I … just as …’
‘It’s OK, Nancy, it’s OK, it was just a dream. People have weird dreams all the time.’
‘As I drove past the tree … as I drove past it … it had changed into a perfect image of
… oh God, Adam … Jesus … of … the Grim Reaper.’
Adam burst out into a loud belly laugh.
‘Are you laughing? How can you laugh? You don’t know how I feel. Adam, stop laughing!’
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Adam couldn’t help himself. In between the deep ho ho hos, he tried to make up for his insincerity.
‘Sorry, Nancy, ho ho ho, really, I’m sorry, ho ho …’
‘Look you, I thought I could talk to you.’
Oddly enough, Adam’s reaction actually helped Nancy lighten up inside as she began to see the funny side of the whole thing. She began to laugh, as well, as she tried, in vain, to protest at Adam’s totally insensitive reaction.
‘Was he carrying a, ho ho ho, scythe?’
‘I’m not going to talk to you anymore. Why should I tell you anything? It’s all a joke to you. Yes, he was carrying a scythe and he was perfectly formed. He was dark and mysterious and, although I couldn’t make out his eyes, I felt him looking straight at me.’
Nancy’s voice had such a chill in it, as she related the last detail to Adam, that it stopped his laughter in its tracks. He felt a shock of cold fear shoot up his spine as well.
She continued,
‘That wasn’t the end of the dream.’
‘No? There was more?’
‘Yes. The last thing I remember is looking in the rear-vision mirror and seeing the Reaper gradually turn back into a dead tree again.’
‘Wow, Nancy, I’m sorry for laughing … really.’
‘It’s OK. Actually, it made me feel better.’
‘Want me to pick you up today and take you to work? Would it help?’
‘It would help heaps if I was going to work.’
‘Aren’t you working today?’
‘No, I took the day off. Robbie’s been saying that if it’s a nice day we should have a sail. I might do that. I love fanging around the harbour. Sailing is so free. I love it.’
‘Ohh, some people … I’ll think of you while I’m up to my armpits in someone’s rotten decay. Hey, say hi to Robbie for me. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen him. Tell him I’ll call him soon.’
‘I still want to see you. Can I see you tonight?’
‘I’ll count the hours. Your place or mine?’
‘I don’t know. Can I tell you this afternoon, at work?’
‘Please. Have a great day and don’t worry about the stupid dream, OK?’
‘OK. Hey …’
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‘Yeah?’
‘I love you, Adam.’
‘I love you too, Nancy …’ and before Adam could say anything else, Nancy hung up.
He felt strange, like there was something else he wanted to say but he didn’t exactly know what. He lay in his bed and closed his eyes. He didn’t have to get up for another hour. As he lay there in the womb-like comfort of his bed, his thoughts meandered around the imagery of Nancy’s dream. He could see the wide-open country she described and the road sweeping through the rolling hills. ‘It reminds me of the country down south of Cooma,’ he thought, ‘on the way to Jindabyne.’ The dream replayed itself in his mind, over and over. He imagined the tree changing shape, as it rotated in his vision, until it finally turned into the Reaper.
‘Jees, what a freaky dream,’ he thought to himself as he arose and stepped out onto his balcony, high in the sky overlooking all of Bondi. ‘Wow, what a beautiful day. I won’t see much of it, though.’ In his bathroom, he showered and brushed his teeth looking blankly at the image in the mirror. He dressed; many would have thought much too casually for a man in his position. After breakfast, he rummaged through his cassettes. ‘I might bring some Al Green today. I feel like a bit of the old Al Green.’
His first patient was booked in at 9.00am. He usually drove the Charger out of his garage at 8.00am so he never needed to hurry. He drove into town along different routes on different days, to keep it more interesting. He used to like going through King’s Cross to bring back the memories of his early days when he lived in Elizabeth Bay. By 8.30, he was parked in his favourite spot in the underground parking station of the Domain. He took the long, moving footway, briefcase in hand, and emerged from the underground into the shady, morning light of Hyde Park, right in the centre of the vibrant, throbbing city. He checked his watch at the same place every day, to set the pace of his stroll through the park. If he had five minutes to spare, he sat down on one of the park benches and enjoyed the play of life acting itself out all around him. He liked to walk through the front door of his surgery at precisely 8.50. Michelle got there at 8.30 and had everything ready by the time he arrived. Today, like every other day, was just another average workday.
3
‘Who’s first cab off the rank, Michelle?’
‘It’s Mr. Bate, doctor. He’s still having some trouble with his bridge.’
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‘Ah yes, there are a lot of very subtle forces acting on that thing and the teeth supporting it are almost floating in the breeze.’
Within minutes, a short, thin, seventy-five-year-old man entered the waiting room.
He wore a fine, old, grey suit, shiny, black-leather shoes and a grey hat. His skin was pale white and almost wrinkle free, and his eyes shone with a soft blue light. When he spoke, it was always with a smile and he looked Adam straight and deeply into his eyes giving Adam a feeling that the old man knew a lot more about him than he could ever imagine.
‘Good morning, Mr. Bate. Still haven’t quite got it right, have we?’
‘It’s very close, Adam. I can just feel it slightly now, especially after I eat. I’m so sorry to be such a pest.’
‘You’re not a pest, Mr. Bate, you’re one of my favourite patients.’ Adam told all his patients that. ‘You have a very special situation, very sensitive to even the slightest imbalance of forces and we’ll have to zero in on the perfect balance very slowly.’
‘I think you’re right, Adam. I can feel the improvement every time I see you.’
Adam had a look.
‘The gold bridge that we made looks great, but it’s only supported by three teeth.
Three teeth are doing the work of six and to make things more challenging, all three teeth, supporting your new bridge, have lost a lot of bone around them. Somebody should have spotted the perio years ago. Are you still seeing Dr. Schimann for your gums?’
‘Yes, I am, Adam. He’s such a good dentist, so meticulous.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t send you to just anybody. So, I bet it’s the back tooth that’s still a little sore.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Let me check the bite again. Things are so subtle here. If I take just a little too much off this tooth, one of the other ones will start hurting. I think the only way we’ll get away with this bridge is if all three teeth share the load absolutely equally. I can’t take off very much at any one time because I might take too much and transfer excessive load to one of the other teeth. Did that make any sense to you, Mr. Bate?’
‘Perfect sense, Adam. You are such a patient dentist. I have total faith in you. If it can work, I know you’ll make it work.’
‘Well, I’ve obviously got you fooled, Mr. Bate.’
Later that morning,
‘But I brush my teeth religiously, three times a day, doctor.’
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‘I’m sure you do, Mrs. Pringle, but, and it’s no fault of yours, you’re missing the most important bits. That’s why your gums are bleeding. But how are you to know if no one had ever given you the appropriate feedback. God knows that you can’t look inside your own mouth.’
‘I’m really trying to do the right thing, doctor, but they just keep bleeding.’
‘Here’s the deal, Mrs. Pringle, and I know it sounds wrong, but you’ve got to make them bleed in order to stop them bleeding, when you brush.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Even though you are brushing three times a day, obviously conscientiously, you are missing the most important part, the one-millimetre band adjacent to your gums.
You are, clearly quite unintentionally, leaving that part undone and it’s as if it was never brushed, and the plaque attacks the gums and makes them inflamed and bleedy.’
‘Oh, you think so?’
‘Yes, Mrs. Pringle, and because they are bleedy, you subconsciously tend to shy off them when you brush, only compounding the problem.’
‘So, I shouldn’t worry that they bleed when I brush?’
‘No. And you’ll find that after about a week of brushing like that, they won’t bleed anymore. They’ll be healthy.’
A little later,
‘Why do they call you, doctor? You’re no doctor, you’re just an ordinary dentist.
Dentists aren’t supposed to call themselves doctors, are they?’
‘That’s a really good question, Mr. Tapsell. You know, to tell you the truth, I don’t mind what people call me, but I tell you what, though, if you find out, come back and tell me. I’d like to know as well. … Oh-oh, that’s one nasty tooth you’ve got there, Mr. Tapsell, I think it’s going to have to come out.’
Adam’s last appointment, before lunch, was an elegant stage actress who was about twice his age. A pleasant friendship had formed between them in the short time that she had been his patient. Like with all his other patients, he had a special way of speaking with her.
‘Joan, so lovely to see you again.’
‘Adam, I never tire of your décor.’
‘All for you, Joan, all just for you.’
‘You young buck … you know, if I was a few years younger …’
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‘Joan, darling, to me you are just a girl, young, beautiful and,’ he sighed, ‘oh so glamorous.’
‘Stop all this horseshit before I start believing you. Have you got my tooth?’
‘Come in, come in and tell me, how is Madame Arcadina today?’
‘Oh, please, don’t ask me. Brian is driving me nuts. This is too fast, that is too slow, move like this, upward inflection here, you’re not cool enough there. God, if You exist, please sustain me. I swear I’ll not last till opening night. It’s only a week away. Adam, will my tooth be ready in time? I just couldn’t face an audience looking like this. Chekhov would turn in his grave.’
‘It’s ready.’
‘Today? Today? It’s ready today?’
‘Here it is.’
He produced a meticulously-sculptured, porcelain crown for the dedicated actor’s broken, right, front tooth.
‘Let’s get the temp off and see how it looks.’
He carefully cleaned the prepared tooth and gently slid the new crown over it.
‘Perfect fit. Bite together if you would, please Joan … looks good.’
‘When can I see it?’
‘Right now, although I want to check it in different light.’
‘Oh, Adam, you’re a genius. Look at my new tooth. How can I thank you?’
‘How about letting me take you to lunch. But first, dear Joan, would you mind stepping over to the window. I would like to see how the crown looks in daylight.’
After satisfying himself that the porcelain crown was a perfect match in all lighting conditions, Adam cemented it into place. He then took Joan to one of the new restaurants in the nearly-completed MLC Centre, over the road, where they sat outside and enjoyed lunch in the pleasant warmth of a balmy, Sydney, spring day.
‘Adam, I have a surprise for you.’
She rummaged in her handbag and brought out two theatre tickets. With gratitude in her eyes and a beaming smile on her face, she handed them to him.
‘It’s two tickets to the premiere of your show, Chekhov’s, The Seagull.’
‘They’re front row and just a small token of my appreciation.’
‘Gosh, how gracious. Thank you very much, Joan. What a wonderful gift. I’ve never seen a Chekhov play before. I’m already excited. I’ll take my friend, Nancy. She’ll love it.’
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‘And after the play you’re invited to the party. It should be a hoot.’
‘I don’t know what to say, Joan. Really, thanks.’
Unbeknownst to Joan, Adam had planned for her visit well in advance. Even though she was so much older, he found her company extremely stimulating and very exciting.
She was still a very beautiful woman and exquisitely elegant. Just to be in her presence gave Adam a feeling like he felt with no other woman he knew. Every second with her was heightened. He asked Michelle to book her last of the morning because he wanted to have lunch with her. He allowed two hours before his first afternoon appointment so that they wouldn’t be hurried. He derived deep pleasure from having long, relaxed conversations with her. As they sipped their coffees, admiring the ‘neo-renaissance’
architecture of the MLC Centre, Adam sat back in his chair and blissfully listened to Joan.
‘Harry has built another ruddy temple. It’s as if Alberti himself has come back to haunt us …’
Adam returned from lunch at five to three. His next patient was already there.
‘How was lunch, doctor?’
‘Just plain wonderful, Michelle. Joan is so delightful. I could listen to her talk all day.
She turns conversation into an art form. Anything happen while I was out?’
‘No, doctor, just some appointments.’
Adam addressed the patient sitting in the waiting room.
‘Ahh, Mr. Spitz, my most conscientious patient. How long has it been since I’ve seen you?’
‘Three months, doc. You won’t let me come any more often.’
‘Polish, scale and fluoride?’
‘You got it, doc, and anything else you got … and doc …’
‘Ah yes, Mr. Spitz, I know, don’t worry, my gas tank is full.’
‘Good, doc. Hey, doc, I brought my own tape, is that OK?’
‘Sure is, Mr. Spitz, in fact I just recently bought a new set of headphones. You can be one of my first patients to give them a test fly.’
‘Wow, doc. Now, doc, you won’t forget to turn up the gas, will you? You know I like it high, real high.’
‘Mr. Spitz, have I ever disappointed you before?’
‘Never, doc, never. That’s why I keep coming back. I’d be back every month if you let me, doc.’
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‘Well, we wouldn’t want to polish your teeth away, now would we, Mr. Spitz? Has Mr. Spitz booked an hour again, Michelle?’
‘Yes, doctor.’
‘Well, it looks like we’ll have a nice, relaxing afternoon. I’ll put your tape on, Mr.
Spitz.’
‘Thanks, doc, I’ll see you in an hour.’
Adam placed the headphones over his patient’s ears and the mask over his nose while Michelle prepared the scaling and polishing equipment.
‘We’ll leave him for fifteen minutes, Michelle. I’m going to make a cup of tea. Can I make one for you?’
‘I can make the teas, doctor.’
‘No no, it’s my pleasure.’
Michelle sat down at her desk in the waiting room while Adam boiled the water for the teas. The phone rang.
‘It’s for you, doctor.’
‘It must be Nancy. She was going to call me this afternoon.’
‘No, doctor, I think it’s your friend Robbie and he sounds somewhat distressed.’
‘Really?’ Adam took the phone.
‘Robbie?’
‘Adam … Adam … Adam …’
‘Robbie, what’s the matter, mate?’
Robbie began to cry on the phone.
‘… It was … oh God … oh God …’
‘It’s OK, mate, take it easy. What’s the matter? What happened?’
‘It was a total accident, man. I’ve done it a hundred times.’
‘What kind of accident? Are you OK? Did you go sailing with Nancy?’
Robbie, snivelling on the phone,
‘I’m so, so sorry, man.’
‘What are you sorry about, Robbie? Is Nancy OK? Is she with you? Can you put her on the phone?’
‘It was an accident, man. It was a complete accident.’
Adam, with a tone of impatience in his voice,
‘What the hell was an accident, Robbie? Come on! Did something happen to Nancy?’
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‘We were sailing the cat. I was aiming the boat up the ramp like usual and, oh God!’
Adam, becoming slightly angry,
‘Leave God out of this and tell me what happened!’
‘I’ve done it perfect a hundred times … there was a gust … we were flying … the boat lurched … we hit the pylon … Nancy hit her head … fell in the water … couldn’t get to her
… tangled in the rigging … tried desperately to get to her … can’t describe the feeling …
the water police was there in seconds … one of them dove in the water and got her out …
tried to save her … mouth to mouth … heart massage … no good … broken neck … I am truly, truly so sorry, man.’
‘What?’
‘I’m at Darlinghurst police station. The water police saw the accident. They reckon I did it on purpose. They’re going to charge me with murder. Culpable navigation or something. I’m waiting for my lawyer. Nancy’s at St. Vincent’s. It’s one big fuck-up, man.
Sorry, so sorry, man … Adam, are you there?’
Adam dropped the phone.
‘Doctor, are you all right? Doctor? …’
Michelle picked up the phone and spoke into it,
‘Sorry, sir, this is Michelle, the doctor can’t speak to you right now.’
She hung up the phone and focussed on Adam who had gone as white as a ghost.
‘Doctor, doctor, what’s the matter?’
She instinctively locked the front door and began to attend to her boss. She helped him to one of the waiting-room chairs.
‘Doctor, what happened? You’ve gone completely pale.’
‘That was Robbie. He called from Darlinghurst police station. They are holding him there. Oh, Michelle, he told me that there was an accident … and that Nancy died.’
‘Oh no, doctor, oh no doctor, no no no, you must have heard the story wrong. I’ll call Darlinghurst police and check.’
Adam sat in the corner of the waiting room, staring blankly into the wall, while Michelle busily searched for the phone number. Her conversation sounded completely scrambled to Adam and he couldn’t make out any of it. When he heard her hang up the phone, he looked at her and saw tears begin streaming from her eyes. She came over to him and took his head in her arms and hugged him.
‘It’s all right, doctor, you can let go of it.’
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Adam began to cry. Michelle hugged him as if to cover him up and hide him from the world, to give him privacy in this, his most devastating moment of loss.
‘What will I do without Nancy?’
There was a long, silent pause while they both cried it out. Then, when she sensed that he’d calmed down enough, she suggested,
‘You step into the back room when you can, doctor, and I’ll switch off Mr. Spitz and re-book him for another day. I might scratch the last two patients as well. What do you think?’
There was no reply.
‘I think so and, as well, we might scratch tomorrow. I think you’ll need tomorrow, doctor.’
She helped Adam, who was sliding into shock, into the back room and sat him down on the only chair in there. She then attended to Mr. Spitz, carefully bringing him out of his relative analgesia and explaining to him that the doctor suddenly took a turn for the worse and thus couldn’t perform the routine prophylaxis on him. She re-booked him a couple of weeks down the track and saw him out the door, apologising for any inconvenience.
She stayed with Adam well past closing time. He slowly gathered himself.
‘I’ll be OK now, Michelle. You’ve got to go home.’
‘Don’t worry about me, doctor. You take it easy tonight. Perhaps if you ate out?’
‘Thank you, you are the best nurse. I’m fine. That’s it, I’ll eat out. Let’s lock up and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘No, not tomorrow, doctor, I’ve cancelled all your patients for tomorrow. I’ll see you on Thursday. Call me anytime if you need me, if you need to talk. Anytime, OK?’
‘Thanks, Michelle, but I’ll be OK. I feel that I need to be alone now … with Nancy.’
‘Oh, doctor.’
They locked up the surgery, took the lift down together and stepped out into the evening bustle of the street. They said good night to each other as Michelle turned left, headed for Wynyard train station, and Adam turned right, headed in the general direction of his car. As he drifted aimlessly through the congested streets, painful thoughts began to overwhelm his mind.
‘Nancy, Nancy, my heart feels like a rock. How could I have been so shallow? How could I have laughed at you? Why couldn’t I have stayed with you today? Why couldn’t I see you
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again, just once, and hug you and tell you that I love you? I love you, Nancy, I’ll love you till I die.’
Later that night, he retraced their footsteps along the shoreline of Bondi Beach. As he dragged his feet through the wet sand, he imagined her there with him, hugging him for warmth. Occasionally he imagined her there so intensely that he actually thought, just for a fleeting moment, that she was actually there, invisible, but with him.
He sat in the sand for hours, with his head in his hands, not knowing what to do next. He didn’t feel like going home. His life now, suddenly, seemed like nothing more than a cold, empty shell.
4
The dawning sun found him asleep on the beach. He fell asleep where he sat out of sheer exhaustion. When he awoke, he looked up and saw the early-morning joggers and swimmers and thought to himself,
‘Everyone is so happy and alive, with purpose and energy. I alone am lost and aimless.
I feel like an orphan. Oh Nancy, why did you have to go? Why?’
…….
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