Chapter 18

Weena called me on my mobile at 11. I was at SciTech and apologized to the group of 8-9 year olds for taking the call.

"Don't worry," she began.

"You mean?"

"Gall stones. They'll do a laparoscopy. But the doctor was right to send her for tests. It could have been a heart attack or a bunch of other things. The nurse network came through and I spoke to the sister in the pathology lab in Roma."

"Thanks. We'll talk at home."

"My mum's been ill," I told the kids. "I've been worried."

"My mom's having another baby," one girl announced; otherwise they took the information in stride and we returned to the Mueller's stag beetle. "These come from Queensland, where it's damp. There are other kinds of stag beetle in the forests. Some near Sydney. There might be some near Margaret River. We're going to see a film in a few minutes. Then you'll know how the males use those big mandibles."

I showed the film, answered a few questions and took them to lunch. One of the boys put his hands on his cheeks and poked one of the others. I ignored it.

I sat with Angela who asked why I wasn't my "ebullient" self. I told her.

"Oh, don't worry!" she said. "A laparoscopy's about as safe as a tonsillectomy these days."

"Really?"

"Really. They may not even keep her overnight."

When I got home, Martha was there. Patrick was napping. "Gordy, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"You're always telling Patrick stories. All sorts of stories."

"Yes?"

"Why?"

"It's my way of teaching. All over the English-speaking world, children are raised listening to stories of Cinderella, Robin Hood, and Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. They are what give people a common vocabulary and starting point for their interactions with others. Plato says 'The beginning is the biggest part of any work, and therefore it is of supreme importance that children should hear good fables and not bad.' But I want Patrick to have more. So I'm giving him all the stories I can find. I'm giving him the broadest background I can. Okay? Does that make sense?"

"Yes. Yes, it does. It will make Patrick wiser."

"I hope so. Or more aware." I got myself some coffee. "How are things with you?"

"Very good. We're flying to Sydney next month. Angus's mum phoned to ask what I like to eat! My mum never asked what I liked. I ate what I got."

"Cape York is a very different environment."

Martha laughed. "And how! I was in shock for weeks when I went to Brisbane."

I heard the car arrive. Patrick must have heard it, too. Martha went to change him.

Weena gave me a one-armed hug and a kiss. "Feeling better?"

"I think so. Angela said they might not even keep mum overnight."

"They probably will, but only one night unless there are complications. Do you want me to call her?"

"Yes. She won't really talk to me."

"Fine. Make me tea. We should plan on visiting about 10 days or two weeks post surgery. She'll be back to normal by then. And you'd better talk to your dad. Don't call David; Sandra'll answer the phone and you'll bite her head off."

"Yes, sister." I went to make tea. I could hear Weena on the phone. By the time the brewing was done and I brought everything to where she was sitting, she was saying good-bye.

"And we'll see you in three or four weeks. Patrick wants to visit his gran'ma." Just then Martha brought a shiny pink boy out. "Hey, Patrick!"

"Gran'ma okay?"

"She will be."

"Good."

"She's going in on Monday morning and they expect to release her by noontime on Tuesday. You might suggest to your dad that he have a bed moved downstairs. She won't enjoy going up or down the first few days. It'll give him something to do over the weekend."

"Smart girl."

"Yes. I'm Patrick's mum. Right sweetheart?"