The Road to Redemption (13 page)

John couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Bill. It was Sunday morning and his head was sore from too many scotches the night before. He was still on the lounge where he had fallen into a drunken sleep. He had got into a raging row with Audry about his drinking and she had threatened all sorts of things.

“I’m going to have you put away,” he seemed to remember her saying at one point. He didn’t know what she meant by this but she was very angry, more angry than he had ever seen her.

Even through his hangover haze, he seemed to remember her lying on the floor, at one time last night. What was she doing on the floor? Oh shit, that’s right, she had tried to take his bottle of scotch away from him and he remembered them having a tug of war with the bottle and him swearing at her and calling her a rotten bitch. Oh, but there was even more. She wouldn’t let go of the bottle and he had given her a back hander. That's why she had ended up on the floor.  Oh shit, he had never hit her before.

He seemed to vaguely remember her going to the kitchen after that and phoning her father.

What was he going to do? His head was throbbing. He staggered out into the garage and started up the BMW. God, if the cops stop me I would still be way over the limit, he thought. He was still half drunk but without thinking about it consciously, he was heading out of town, towards Tyrone. It occurred to him this was pretty stupid, but somehow it was taking him closer to Alice, even if he didn’t know her parent’s name, or where she was staying.

Three quarters of an hour later he was driving into Tyrone. Quite cute, he thought, a pub and a general store, that seemed to sell everything and doubled as the local post office as well.  He pulled up on the dirt outside the store, went in, got a bottle of iced tea from the fridge and paid for it. There were some stools near the front window, so he sat on one and started talking to the shop owner. He was a stocky man in his late 50’s, with a ruddy face and a pleasant manner.

“How long have you been here?” John asked innocently.

There was more to this than the casual question it seemed. He was trying to probe if the storeowner knew Alice. Surely everyone knew everyone, in a small place like this?

“About five years,” said the store owner, “but my wife’s been here longer. She was born here.”

He was about to probe whether he knew a girl called Alice, when he saw a battered old Land Rover pull up next to his car, spreading a fine puff of dust onto it. Bloody hell, thought John.

A well-kept woman jumped down from the Land Rover and entered the shop. She looked to be somewhere in her 50’s, but very smart. She had her hair tied back and walked with an air of confidence. She was wearing faded jeans and a loose blouse. Somehow she didn’t seem to fit. She was definitely not a country bumpkin.

“Hi Joe,” she said to the shopkeeper, “I just need to pick up a few things.”

“Hi Jane,” he replied, “how's your husband?”

“Well he’s had to go back into hospital again,” she said with a sigh.

“That's no good,” said Joe, trying to comfort her, “ I’m sure he’ll get better soon.”

“You know they’re going to have to ban you from the art shows soon,” he continued, “that would make three years in a row you’ve won it now, haven’t you?”

It couldn’t be, thought John, a sick husband and winner of the local art shows. He was on full alert now and stared at the woman, taking her in fully. Yes she had been a beautiful woman, still was for that matter. If you added 20 years to Alice’s face, that would be her. She caught him staring and turned towards him.

“Sorry to bother you but you wouldn’t have a daughter called Alice would you?” John gasped.

“Well I might have. Who are you?”

“Oh look, my names John, I’m looking for a girl called Alice Johnson.”

“Well that's my daughter,” she paused, “So your are John are you?”

He was shocked, not only was this Alice’s mother but she had also heard of him. He could only wonder what Alice had told her about him.

“I suppose you would like to come and see her.”

“Well yes, if I could,” spluttered John

“OK just let me pick up a few groceries and you can follow me. I suppose that's your BMW out there.”

”Yes.”

“Sorry, I think it got a bit of dust on it when I parked.”

But she had a bit of a wicked twinkle in her eye. She did it on purpose, thought John.

She gathered her groceries and he carried them out for her.

“OK, just follow me, it’s only a few kilometres down the road.”

As she said, they drove for a few kilometres when she put on her blinker and turned off, onto a rough dirt track. I never would have found this, thought John. It was heavily wooded and the track was very rough.

About a further kilometre through the bush and they came to a clearing. There was a lovely cottage, a bit run down but with flowers and lots of crafty ornaments and comfy chairs on the porch. A track led down from the house to a narrow river below.

“Alice was down by the water when I left.“ She picked up the groceries; “You can go down the track over there.”

The track was rough and windy but he could see a figure sitting at the end of a small wharf on the river. Yes, it was Alice. His heartbeat quickened. He was actually going to see her and talk to her.

As he stepped onto the wharf she heard his footsteps and turned around. She stood up and walked towards him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You’re the last person in the world I want to see right now,” she kept going,

“ Fuck off. Go back to your fancy wife with your fancy house and car.”

She was yelling at him, still walking towards him. Almost hysterical.

“I never want to see you again. Get out of my fucking life. Do you hear me?”

This was not like anything he had expected. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All he could do was retreat, trembling in total shock.

This was not the provocative Alice he had seen at the dinner party, in her tight black dress, or the sophisticated Alice he had seen glide across the reception at his work, like a vogue model. No, this was the wild untamed, out of control Alice, with her hair flying all over the place, dressed down in jeans and a loose blouse like her mother.  Even though she was swearing and abusing the hell out of him, at the top of her voice, for just a moment, just for a single second, it occurred to him she was still just as sexy. Wild and sexy.

Somehow, he managed to stumble his way up the winding path to the house. Halfway up, in a state of shock, he slipped on some loose gravel and fell heavily onto his elbow. It was bleeding and his shirt was ripped.

Jane saw him coming and opened the back door.

“You had better come in and let me have a look at that,” she said in a tender voice.

John sat down at the kitchen table while she got out a first aid kit.

“Quite a nasty graze you have there John.” She was now gently cleaning the wound.

“You’ve got quite a lot of blood on your shirt.”

She finished bathing the wound and put a bandage around it.

“That will stop it bleeding for a while.”

“I was just pouring myself a cup of herb tea, would you like some?”

“Thanks,” said John. His throat was dry from the scotch the night before and he was still shaking from Alice’s tirade and the fall.

He looked around the room. It was very arty, but there was a neatness to it all. He could see in the adjoining room there were a lot of pictures, leaning against the walls. Some of them were really lovely. In particular he liked a painting of two lorikeets.

“I like that painting,” said John pointing to it.

“Its a favourite of mine too. I did that on the front porch, it won the local art show this year, we get a lot of lorikeets around here.”

She was warm and charming and started to talk about painting and arts and crafts.

Jane in fact was much more than simply warm and charming. Much more. She and her husband James had been part of the hippy culture in the late 1970’s.  As teenagers they had been too young to attend the famous Woodstock Festival, which had been held in the spring of 1969 and had attracted an estimated 400,000 people, at White Lake in the US. But both had been drawn to its concepts of victory for love, peace and music.

Not knowing each other, they had each traveled separately to Woodstock '79, a rock concert that took place at Madison Square Garden, New York City in 1979, the year of the 10th anniversary of the original Woodstock Festival. Some of the musicians from the original festival of 1969 met there, to celebrate the spirit of freedom of the original Woodstock.

Both had finished their studies, Jane a BA (Hons) and James a Dr of Philosophy and were looking to find more meaning in life, than they had found in their respective Christian upbringings, in Australia. They met at the 1979 reunion and the attraction was instant and mutual. After the festival they had hitchhiked across the US to California. But the 1960’s era of love and peace and “wearing a flower in your hair” was over. Protests and hard drugs had replaced it. Instead of the love and peace of the original hippies of the 1960’s, it was all anger and hard drugs.

They decided to leave the US and travel to SE Asia and had finally ended up in India, where they had found what they had been looking for, in the Buddhist Philosophy of living. Not only had they finally found what they had been looking for in this philosophy, they actually spent some time in a Buddhist Monastery and had later been married in a Buddhist Wedding Ceremony.

A number of things had concerned them both about the Christian religion. For a start they had both questioned its emphasis on just believing rather than questioning everything and there were a lot of things in the Bible, which were far too hard to just believe, without questioning.

Both had found the Bible very heavy going and in some places repetitive, while in other places quite contradictory. Why for example did the Old Testament say “an eye for an eye” while the New Testament says, “Turn the other cheek”? Also, how come Moses in the Old Testament was an ordinary man who heard the call from God, while Jesus in the New Testament was “the Son of God” and some sort of personification of God, having been born from a virgin, who was impregnated by an angel?

There were many, many, other questions. How come Adam, the first man, was carved out of clay and Eve was carved from a rib bone? Also, why was eating an apple so bad they were banned from the Garden of Eden, so that all of us for ever more, would be born with “original sin”, for which we had to feel guilty about all our lives and continually pray for forgiveness?

How come there were so many miracles committed by both Moses and Jesus, that defy logical explanation? Moses was able to turn a stick into a snake in front of the Egyptian Pharaoh and even more impressive, make the Red Sea collapse on the Egyptian Army, when Moses and his people fled from Egypt. Both had also also read that scholars can find no evidence, to support this claimed mass exodus from Egypt.

Did Jesus really walk on water? Was he really able to bring someone back from the dead? How did he turn water into wine and feed a vast multitude of people, with a few loaves and fishes? It was all just too much to believe without questioning and they were therefore attracted to Buddhism.

They had discovered Buddha's real name was Siddhartha Gautama and he was born into a wealthy Indian family, from a high caste, around 543 BC. He was born by natural means and was a normal human being. After marrying and producing a legal heir, he left home and set out on a journey to search for understanding and wisdom. As was the custom at that time, once his dependants had been provided for, he was free to go on his quest.