Breeze of Life (3 page)

“No,” I whispered, my voice husky from crying. “I didn’t want to ruin your year, you were so excited after the Quicksilver Pro; I couldn’t destroy what you had been working so hard to build.”

“Breeze…” Harper sighed as he rested his forehead on mine. He was so close I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

“And I didn’t want you to see me like this,” I confessed. After a moment of silence he turned me so I was now lying on my back. I tried so hard to ignore his beautiful blue eyes, but it was hopeless, I was drawn to them with such force it was frightening. 

“I’ve seen you puking your guts out, Breeze, it was no hardship then, it isn’t now.” I shook my head, dumbfounded that another tear managed to escape the corner of my eye. I have cried enough tears in this life to drown in several times over.  I couldn’t believe they still fell. Harper swiped them away with his thumbs, holding my face and forcing my attention to him. Slowly one of his hands rose to the head wrap I wore and I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“No, Breeze baby. It’s me, your best friend Harper, we don’t hide anything from each other.”  I didn’t let go of his wrist, but I didn’t stop him from sliding the head wrap from my smooth skin. My eyelids fluttered closed, embarrassment flooding my soul. Then I felt Harper’s soft lips on my forehead as he pressed them there for the longest time. Finally, he pulled away and I was able to open my eyes. He smiled at me, his eyes filled with sincerity and mischief.

“Would it help if I shaved my head?” he asked. Somehow I managed to smile a little and it felt so real it shocked me. I shook my head.

“No, I like your hair, don’t ruin it for me.” Harper shook his head and chuckled.

“Silly, stubborn girl, it’s just hair, it will grow back.” Harper rolled and pulled me to his chest, gathering the blankets and wrapping them around my shoulders.

“Get some sleep, baby.” I lay there for the longest time simply listening to the strong beat of Harper’s heart, like a melody that sang life and happiness until finally I began to fall asleep. This time it wasn’t about escaping though. I felt contentedly quiet and peaceful and wanted nothing more than to rest in Harper’s strong embrace, even if it was only for one night.

Chapter 3

Grommets

A name used for younger surfers; children

I woke from a heavy and restful sleep, the kind of sleep that had evaded me for months. Instead of repeatedly waking in a cold sweat following nightmares, I actually slept right through. I raised my arm and observed the ‘fairy dust’ that floated through my room, highlighted by the sun’s rays which now slipped through my open blinds. It had been a long time since the fingertips of such brilliance had touched this room. My body warmed at the sun’s contact, the paleness of my skin emphasized. I grimaced and rolled over, turning my back on the tempting glow. The sheets were a mess where Harper had lain beside me. He had been beside me, hadn’t he? Perhaps it had been nothing but a wanton dream, one of many that I had endured over the last eight months. Loud obnoxious banging and Harper’s booming voice confirmed that yes, the incessantly noisy lover of dawn had returned. Harper was used to early rises, dawn was apparently one of the best times to catch the waves free of wind. Me, on the other hand, I loved to sleep in. It worked for us though. When Harper was here I rarely woke without breakfast ready and waiting.

“Go away, Harper!” I yelled, rolling the ends of my pillow up to cover my ears. It did no good though.

“You’ve got twenty minutes to get up, dressed, and fed. If you’re not ready I will drag you from this room as you are and dump you in my Jeep, your choice.” I heard his retreating footsteps and groaned. It wasn’t a good day, I didn’t feel like taking a trip outside. I knew Harper would see through on his threat though and facing whatever he had planned for me in a thin night shirt and my granny panties was not cool. I escaped to the heat of the shower and dressed in a simple long wrap skirt and shoestring singlet top. I carefully wrapped my head in a light scarf and threw on a pair of flip flops. By the time I was dressed, Harper stood by the door, a piece of toast in one hand with carefully mashed banana on top and a travel mug of coffee in the other. I tried to gift with him a grateful smile, but it was a lie. My face simply did not want to embrace happiness today. I think Harper realized this though, he didn’t tease my mood, just turned and left the apartment and I obediently followed. George was waiting by the lift and he gave me a fatherly hug and kiss to the head.

“Have an open heart and open eyes today, sweetheart.” With that he backed away to his own apartment and I watched him with a wary look. I had a bad feeling about what Harper had organized for today and I was tempted to run back to the apartment and lock myself inside. One look at Harper though and I knew that wasn’t going to happen. His expression was that of determination and a little bit of I-dare-you arrogance. I didn’t even bother trying to hide the frustration and sadness that simmered beneath my skin today. It was like a parasite, eating its way through my body and I wondered how long it would take before I simply crumbled into nothingness. Once in the parking garage below, Harper opened the passenger door to his very big and cozy Jeep Cherokee. I noticed his hesitation as he glanced across to the empty car space behind us.

“Where’s your car?” He looked around.

“Sold it.” I took a sip from my coffee and allowed the warmth to infuse some strength in my limbs.

“Why?” he asked climbing into the driver’s seat. It was his what-the-fuck voice that I was well accustomed too.

I shrugged. “I needed the money.” Well, now he was furious. I didn’t even need to look at him to know, I could almost feel the waves of rage seeping from his pores. “Yeah, yeah… I should have asked you for a loan, I didn’t, we know why, move on,” I grumbled before he had a chance to argue with me. He took a moment to compose himself before eventually knocking the car into drive and leaving the car park. I watched the streets and cars drift by in a daze of nonchalance. Everyday people doing everyday things that seemed impossible for me. It was as if I were already slipping away from this world that I no longer cared for. I didn’t even care enough to ask Harper where we were going, I would deal with it when we got there. I would just rest and store my energy for the fake smiles I would wear and mock enthusiasm that I would greet people with. Harper had Nirvana’s
Smells Like Teen Spirit
blaring from his iPod and I flinched. It was his favorite song and I haven’t heard it since he left. It reminded me of just how different Harper and I truly were. My favorite song was
The Way You Look Tonight
, not the original Fred Astaire version; it was a bit too swingy for me, but Tony Bennett’s version. It was soft, elegant and you could tell the person who wrote that song was in the moment, they had someone they truly loved and the words came straight from the heart. That was just one example of the expansive differences between Harper and me. My favorite movie was
Grease
. Yeah, Olivia Newton-John totally rocked those lycra pants. Harper’s favorite movie was
Die Hard
—One, Two, Three,
and
Four. I loved romance novels, Harper loved
Penthouse
magazine and not for the interesting articles he tried to tell everyone he read. I loved lazy Sundays—hanging around the house; Harper loved action packed Sundays—surfing and hanging at the local bar for an afternoon session. Harper liked fast, I liked slow, Harper like danger, I liked safe. How on earth we became friends and remained friends was beyond me.

We had driven for what seemed like forever when Harper finally pulled into the car park of what I recognized immediately as the Royal Children’s Hospital in Brisbane and I immediately froze. I’m sure I looked as spooked as hell when Harper turned to face me.

“Open mind and heart, Breeze.” When I didn’t move he walked calmly to my door and opened it, taking my hand like you would of a small, terrified child and led me into the building. Harper didn’t ask for directions, he knew exactly where he was going and I followed in stunned silence.

“Harper, good to see you again, bro!” Beamed a big burly Maori wearing what looked like a backstage pass around his neck. He had another two swing tags in his hand.

“You too, Cody.” They shook hands and the massive kiwi set his sights on me.

“Cody, this is Bree, Bree, I’d like you to meet Cody. He works here at the Wonder Factory.” I gave Harper a confused frown before quickly locking it away and putting on my best fake smile. I shook Cody’s hand. It was huge in my own tiny one. He was much taller than Harper and far wider too. His arms were just as heavily tattooed as Harper’s and his hair was a wiry tangle of curls. He was a little intimidating but his friendly smile and loud bark of laughter eased my nerves. Cody handed us a bright yellow pass to wear into the room beyond. I could hear music and children’s voices from behind that door and I was dreading what I knew was coming next. Harper took my hand as if sensing my worry and we followed Cody into the room. It was large and brightly painted with all sorts of activities going on—arts and crafts, face painting, video games, Play-Doh, and a small fluffy dog ran around the room with a bunch of screaming kids chasing it. A small grin played at my lips at the sight of the little dog running for his life. It seemed it was at risk of being cuddled to death and looked none too pleased about that prospect.  When my eyes touched the faces of sick and injured kids my heart wept. Some of them looked so sick yet their little faces were alit with wonder and fascination. I took a few deep breaths realizing I could not lose it here. These children didn’t need my sympathy or tears, they needed fun and hope.

“Listen up kids!” boomed Cody’s enormous voice. “We have a very special guest today, one I know Henry back there is going to flip out over.” Cody grinned to a short blonde boy with a broken leg trying desperately to climb from his chair and race over to Harper. “Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, how ‘bout a big warm welcome for the number three world surfing champion, Harper Somerville!” The room erupted into cheers and claps and Harper strode easily forward to meet Henry and shook the little boy’s eager hand. Cody leant over and whispered in my ear, “Feel free to mingle, I got a feeling your boy is gonna be a little busy for a while.” I nodded and watched in awe as Harper knelt down and listened intently to each and every child, giving out hugs, autographs, photos, whatever was asked, all the while with a massive, genuine smile on his face. This was a side of Harper I had never witnessed. Oh, I had seen him autograph posters and clothing for kids, I had also seen him autograph many a pair of breasts. This was different though.  A small tug on my skirt got my attention and a little boy with a mass of red curls smiled at me with a toothless grin. I knelt down to his height.

“Hi.” When I smiled this time, it wasn’t fake—it was real and it felt surprisingly good and easy. 

“Hi, can you help me please?” He pointed to some Play-Doh on a small table behind us and I followed him over, sitting in one of the miniature chairs beside him. I learned my new friend’s name was Ben and he was in the hospital because he had been sick with pneumonia, but he was feeling much better now and would hopefully go home tomorrow. I began rolling out some doh and we began to build Frosty the Snowman. I wasn’t crafty, music was my forte, but somehow we managed to piece together a very impressive Frosty with pipe-cleaners for arms, a broken up paddle-pop stick for his nose, and two buttons for his eyes.

“Do you know the song
Frosty the Snowman
?” I asked. Ben nodded eagerly and when I began to sing he quickly joined in. A couple of little girls sitting at the table watched with big grins and clapped when we had finished. After a photo to celebrate our Frosty triumph, I stood up and wandered around the room. Harper was settled in comfortably playing video games, he would be happy to sit there for the next several hours as long as someone provided liquid and food. At the back of the room, sitting in a big comfy chair with an iPod plugged into her ears was a young girl, surely no more than fourteen, maybe fifteen. My attention was drawn to her because of the notable absence of hair on her scalp. It was a familiar look that strummed a dull ache in my heart.

I approached her cautiously, she had been sitting alone and perhaps she preferred it that way. When I got close enough for her to notice me, she gave me a shy smile and I sat down beside her. She pulled the small buds from her ears and I grinned at the welcoming look she gave me.

“Hi, I’m Bree.”

“Hey, I’m Mia.”

“You like music?” Mia nodded and played nervously with the iPod in her small hands. I leant back and watched what seemed like chaos before me, but really it was well organized fun. “Me too. Do you play an instrument?” Mia shook her head. “I play guitar and sing. I used to play at the Juice Bar I worked at on the Gold Coast, but I haven’t played for a while now,” I was rambling nervously.

“Why not?” Mia asked after a short silence.

I shrugged. “When I got sick I really didn’t have the energy to play and now,” I wasn’t sure how to answer because I wasn’t really sure why I didn’t play anymore, “I don’t know, music kind of makes me sad.”

“Maybe you’re playing the wrong music,” Mia said matter-of-factly. Such simple words that held more truth than I was prepared to acknowledge. “What is wrong with you?” Mia asked and now it was her turn to seem a little nervous.

“I was diagnosed with cancer earlier in the year. I finished my treatments not too long ago.” I didn’t ask Mia what her condition was, I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to ask. In the end I didn’t need to because she relinquished the information without shame or hesitation.

“I have leukemia. I was diagnosed three years ago.” My heart broke at the thought of three long years battling this evil disease. I had been fighting for just eight short months and I felt broken. I couldn’t imagine living for such a long time with such an illness. Mia smiled, oblivious to my internal distress. “So, what music do you like?”