Awakening to Life Read online

  I burst into a fit of laughter. When he turns to me, an expression of horror still etched into his features, I laugh even harder. I don’t stop until we’re out of the ride, into the daylight, and all the other kids have run off to other rides. Even the crying ones.

  “Are you done?” Jayden asks, pretending to be annoyed.

  “Just about,” I reply. “You ready to do something else?”

  “Am I ready?” he echoes, following behind me as I walk off.

  He catches up quickly and grabs my hand. The sun is high in the sky, beaming down on us. We stop under the makeshift cloth roof of a trailer, in front of a dozen clowns which turn their heads slowly from side to side. Jayden steps up to play. The aim is to slide the white balls down their throats to land on the highest number possible. He pushes the balls in calmly and scores pretty well, turning to me with a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he finishes. I take to the game with the same cocky attitude at first, but stick the balls in with increasing agitation as I somehow manage to send each one into the lowest scoring section. Neither of us wins enough points to get a prize, so we move on to another game.

  The next trailer holds some sort of bowling activity. We watch a family of small children in front of us and decide that it’s both boring and impossible to win. We saunter through the maze of sideshows, passing under the cover of each to suss out the game and escape the afternoon sun. Finally, we are summoned by an astoundingly short man sitting on a high chair, overlooking a game of darts.

  “Hey there! You wanna try and win? It’s darts… How hard can it be?” He has a goofy smile on his face that makes me want to challenge him.

  Jayden and I exchange a quick glance before stepping towards the booth. It’s a bad idea. I know it. But I don’t stop Jayden from piling the necessary coins into the man’s small hands, his stubby fingers whipping them quickly into the pocket of his grimy pants.

  I look up at the prizes, my eyes focusing on a large purple dinosaur. It would be cool to win one of the massive prizes. The last time I went to a carnival, I was very young. I went with my family, and my dad had to buy me a stuffed pony because he was so embarrassed to have failed the hammer game that tests strength.

  “You want the dinosaur?” Jayden asks confidently. “Consider it won.”

  He lines up his first shot with the precision that comes from a lifetime playing darts. So, really, it’s understandable for me to crack up with laughter when he misses the target by more than a metre. As I’m in hysterics, unable to control myself, he takes another shot. It’s not as bad as the first, but certainly not good enough to win a prize. He grumbles incoherently as I finally straighten my face out into a sombre expression. He takes the final shot. It’s a bullseye. He jumps for joy, ruining my efforts to not laugh with his ridiculous enthusiasm. His efforts weren’t good enough to win even the smallest of prizes.

  “Your turn, Miss!” the man running the stall yells, competing with the tacky carnival tune playing over the loudspeaker.

  I shake my head. “Not yet, thanks.”

  I know I will be worse than Jayden. We walk away, grinning as the man yells all sorts of amusing deals and incentives for us to return and play. We reach the next trailer and he sets his sights on another innocent couple.

  My stomach grumbles and Jayden drags me away from the games and over to a white caravan selling doughnuts. He buys us both an enormous sugar doughnut and my stomach grumbles again, probably loud enough for my parents to hear back at home. We chow down the treat, eating quickly and licking the last of the sugar from our fingers before we head to the ice cream cart. We sit silently at a table in front of the cart as we lick the fast melting ice cream before the heat steals it away.

  Then we return to the games. Jayden’s confidence deflates with each turn, as he fails to win me a toy with every attempt. Eventually, he gives up and we walk back to the Ferris wheel, quickly snatching a carriage to ourselves.

  “How are you feeling?” Jayden asks, his fingers trace shapes into my palm, pressing lightly on my skin.

  “I’m fine,” I reply, snuggling into his side and wrapping his hand around my body. “I’ve had so much fun today. Thank you.”

  We sit in silence as the carriage ascends.

  “This is the perfect date,” I state.

  “Good!” Jayden laughs. “Because a lot of effort went into this one. Don’t think it’s going to be like this all the time… maybe I’ll make you organise the next one.”

  We both chuckle. My laughter turns into a gasp of shock as the Ferris wheel grinds to a halt and we are left hanging just before we reach the peak. The carriage swings backward and we drop a metre, then it stops, and we’re left hanging.

  “It’s so pretty!” I gush. The carnival sits snugly in a small valley between rolling hills. Jayden nods. We watch the people, pointing and giggling at the clowns that make their way through the stalls, imitating the people in front of them for the amusement of passers-by.

  The Ferris wheel starts again with a sudden jolt. We remain seated for one more rotation before slipping out through the gate and rejoining the hub of stalls.

  “Are you tired? Do you want to go home soon?” Jayden asks, watching me carefully when he thinks I’m not paying attention.

  “Not yet. A few more games.”

  I smile at him and we walk down another passage, one we hadn’t explored earlier. Jayden spots a giant hammer for people to test their strength, just like the one Dad was determined to conquer last time I went to a carnival. He eyes the machine as a stick thin man wearing spectacles and a goofy tie has his turn, winning a small toy dolphin with a fairly measly score.

  “I’m going to win you that dinosaur!” he proclaims, striding up to the machine with complete confidence. I smirk as he analyses the contraption, rolling my eyes at his back.

  “This is going to be easy,” he tells me, throwing the comment over his shoulder as he passes the money to the guy operating the game.

  The man laughs at Jayden, who stumbles slightly when he picks up the hammer. I giggle. Jayden steps up to the plate. He raises the hammer and drops it on the designated target. Lights on the machine flash and it announces his score: three, out of ten. I let out a bark of laughter. Jayden steps away and I run forward to kiss him on the cheek. He sticks his tongue out and grins.

  “I give up! I’m done!” he announces. “We’re going home now.” He drags me away and I squeeze his hand, hurrying to his side.

  The carnival is bustling with activity. The man at the darts game targets us again. “Come on, blondie! Give your girlfriend a shot!”

  Jayden turns to me and shrugs. I pull him towards the stall. “You’re on,” I tell the man. I face Jayden. “One turn each and we’re done. Deal?”

  “Okay, okay.” Jayden puts his hands up, surrendering.

  I hand over the money and we collect our multi-coloured darts. I flip them over in my hands, trying to remember the last time I played darts.

  “You go first,” I say, wanting to suss out how to hold and aim the darts before my turn. He raises his eyebrows and points to himself with a stupid ‘who, me?’ expression on his face. He throws, poorly. He does even worse than the first time around.

  When he finishes, I pull a dart up to eye level and hold it steady. I aim for the first target and throw, closing my eyes at the last moment. Jayden exhales loudly and I open my eyes to see it wedged into the middle of the target.

  A bullseye.

  I scream and then quickly clasp a hand over my mouth. My eyes are wide as Jayden grips me from behind, squeezing my arms. I raise the next dart and shoot. It’s close, almost another bullseye.

  “Yes! One more, Allie!”

  I swing my arm up, one more time. Push. Release. It snags the edge of the bullseye. I spin around. Jayden’s face is frozen in disbelief. I hug him. Then we high five. He doesn’t snap out of his dazed state
until I choose a prize: the big purple dinosaur.

  “Woah!” he exclaims as I take the stuffed toy in my arms.

  It’s so big that it almost overwhelms me. Jayden takes it and carries it over his shoulder through the crowd. People skirt around him, giving him and the toy plenty of room. Those that don’t, get nudged in the head. We navigate the maze of vans, carts, and rides until we escape the carnival, reaching the bottom of the hill. Jayden takes my hand with his free one and we trek slowly up the hill.

  He leans over a whispers in my ear. “We’re going to pretend I won this for you.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure we are.” I laugh.

  He places the dinosaur in the back of the car. It sits upright, on two legs, in the seat. Jayden clicks the seatbelt into place, turns, and winks at me. Then he opens the door for me and I get it. He circles to the driver’s seat and starts the car, pulling carefully from the parking space. I can’t see the carnival, but I crane my neck for a glance anyway.

  “We’ll take the freeway back home… It’s still early enough that it hasn’t changed over. So, it won’t be such a long drive.”

  “Good,” I reply. “I can’t wait to see Josh’s face when I show him the purple dinosaur I won… And Dad, he’ll be crushed! He’s never won anything bigger than his palm.”

  Jayden laughs. We chatter about the carnival stalls, Ferris wheels, and ghost trains for the rest of the ride, confessing our greatest fears as we pull up to my house.

  “Spiders,” he shouts.

  “Snakes,” I say, continuing the rally as we leave the car.

  “The dark,” he replies.

  “Really?”

  “When I was little, yeah.”

  “That doesn’t count! We’re discussing current fears,” I say.

  “Fine. Bananas.”

  We reach the door. “What?! You’re afraid of—”

  Jayden leans in and kisses me in front of the door. I immediately forget my line of thought. One hand cradles my head, the other holds my dinosaur. I slip my arms around his waist. It is the perfect kiss to end a perfect date.

  He pulls away and knocks on the door. Dad looks at the enormous plush toy in awe.

  “Did you win this?” Dad asks, eyebrows hitching up to his hairline.

  “Sure did!” Jayden replies with bravado. He turns and winks at me.

  “He didn’t win it, did he?” Dad asks, putting his arm on my shoulder and guiding me into the house.

  I laugh. “No, he didn’t. I did.”

  Dad’s face is priceless. Absolutely priceless.

  We walk into the entrance hall and through to the living room. Mum and Josh sit at the dining table with a stack of cards.

  “We’re playing Go Fish, do you two want to play?” Mum asks.

  “Of course!” I reply, and we join them at the table. Jayden sits on one side of me and Dad sits on the other. My heart feels both incredibly light and full. Cards pass from hand to hand and everyone has a chance at yelling the name of the game before I do. But, eventually, I get my turn.

  “GO FISH!” I say, slamming down my hand on the pile of cards. The shock of the movement reverberates through my arm. I wince visibly. There is a dull pain in by bones, in every limb. My joints feel cold and sharp against my skin.

  Everyone stops playing.

  “Allie?! What’s wrong sweetie?” Dad asks. I resist the urge to sigh. Of course he noticed. I grab the cards from the middle of the table, clutching them tighter than absolutely necessary.

  “I’m fine,” I say cheerily, but everyone continues to stare at me in concern. “It’s nothing. The pain’s gone now anyway.”

  It’s partly true. The pain sits quietly in the background, biding its time. They continue to stare at me until Josh places a card in the middle of the table, resuming the game. I shoot him a grin. His eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t smile back. Still, Mum is forced to follow his lead, then Jayden. Soon enough, everyone is paying attention to the game except Dad. He places a hand on my knee under the table and leans over to speak softly in my ear.

  “Do you want to go lie down? Or can I get you some water?”

  “Play the game, silly. I’m fine.” With the emphasis on the ‘fine,’ he moves back into the centre of his chair just as it’s his turn to play a card.

  “Go Fish!” I yell again, taking more care when I make a grab for the pile.

  All eyes are on me, but not in the annoyed she-won-again way. Everyone seems to get sick of the game simultaneously, deciding to watch a movie instead. I huff loudly as they all move to the table, except Mum, who clears away the cards and Jayden, who brushes my hand with his fingers.

  “Come on, Allie. Come watch a movie,” he says. He stands centimetres away. It feels intimate. A warm blush blossoms in my cheeks, with my mum standing just a metre away.

  “Okay.” I walk with him to the couch and sit down. Josh is fiddling with the DVD player, attempting to juggle several disks and switch on the machine at the same time.

  “What movie are we watching?” I ask him.

  “We’re not watching a movie. Remember the game I bought last week? We can play that,” he says absentmindedly.

  Mum and Dad join us, sitting next to each other. I remember expecting them to get divorced before I was diagnosed. I remember how Mum used to retreat into her work and Dad would look after us kids. For the first time, I realise how my cancer has brought them together. They’re stronger. Healthier. Josh is better too. He gets along with everyone. He doesn’t demand their attention or money unreasonably. He’s not rebellious or selfish.

  I smile, but it’s a little sad. I wonder how they will cope without me here. Maybe they will be stronger again. Or maybe they’ll fall apart. The pain in my hips and the base of my stomach remind me that I’m a ticking time bomb. The cancer will take my life; I just hope it doesn’t take my family too.

  Finally, Josh gets the game up and running. “Hey, I thought we were watching a movie,” Mum remarks, seeing the opening menu appear on the screen.

  “We decided to compromise. Allie wanted to keep playing, so we decided on a couch-friendly game,” Dad explains in a teasing voice. I ignore him, reaching forward to grab two controllers. One for me and one for Jayden.

  The questions start off really easy and get progressively harder until Josh and Mum seem to be the only ones playing. The rest of us give up, choosing to pick a side and cheer that player on instead. Jayden and I shout out encouragement for Josh who knows all of the answers to the questions aimed at the younger generations. He manages to guess a whole heap of answers to the older questions as well. Mum, however, has a knack for being the quickest to hit the buzzer. All in all, it’s a pretty tight match and very entertaining to watch. But I can’t concentrate.

  The pain in my stomach worsens until it’s all I can think about. But I can’t say anything. Everyone’s having so much fun and, for once, I don’t want to be the one to ruin everything. Mum and Jayden are sitting about a metre away from each other on the couch, an invisible line dividing us into two teams. Mum’s eyes are transfixed with the screen. Dad’s arm hugs her waist. He whispers encouragement and a bunch of terrible guesses to the questions in her ear. She laughs as his suggestions get further from the correct answer and more sarcastic. Meanwhile, Josh holds his own on the other side of the couch. Jayden’s eyes are glued to the action as he shouts out an occasional answer that Josh wouldn’t know. Unfortunately for him, Mum is quicker to act on these comments.

  Tears fill my eyes. I blink rapidly, but a few spill over and race down the sides of my cheeks. I feel trapped. My heart pumps violently against my ribs and my throat is dry. My tongue feels like sandpaper, only heavy. The pain has spread to my back and it throbs harder, faster, sharper. Jayden cheers. I think Josh won a round. I don’t know. I stare at a corner in the ceiling. There is a spider web and I can see a fly in its grasp. Jayden ti
ghtens his arms around my waist and I squeal. Jayden and Dad turn at the sound.

  “Allie!” Dad jumps from the couch, nudging Mum forward. Everyone stops and the game is forgotten. Josh gasps and Jayden springs away from me. “Allie, what’s wrong?” Dad asks. He kneels in front of me.

  I start sobbing openly. “It’s really bad. Everything hurts.”

  Dad shifts to the arm rest, perching on its edge and holding a hand to my face, cradling it. Then he takes charge. “Josh, run upstairs and get Allie some spare clothes. Helen, grab my car keys and some money. Jayden, ring the hospital and let them know we’re on our way.”