Medical Mission (2 page)

Josh woke up in bed. He threw the covers off to discover he was still fully dressed … even his shoes were on.
Dad must have carried me in
, he thought.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. He was feeling pretty tired. He stumbled out of his room and into the kitchen.

There was no one around.

He made himself some toast and poured a glass of orange juice. Images and snatches of conversations from the previous night flashed through his mind as he ate.

He wondered where everyone was.

He wondered if Mum was okay.

He wondered about the baby.

It suddenly occurred to him that Aunty Karen had referred to the baby as a ‘he'. A brother! Josh had a brother.
I wonder what his name is?
he thought.

‘Ah, you're awake.' Aunty Karen bustled in. ‘Your father asked me to remind you about your chores.'

‘Did he say anything else?' asked Josh, hopefully.

‘Just that he was going to be late today,'
said Aunty Karen, putting the kettle on and getting the teapot. ‘Something about supervising the mustering.'

‘Oh.' Josh looked down at his half-eaten toast, his appetite gone. ‘What about Mum? What about the baby? What's my brother's name?'

‘Nathan.' Aunty Karen stopped to smile at Josh. ‘Your brother's name is Nathan.' Then her smile faded. ‘He's still having some problems with his lungs, so they've got him on a ventilator in the Royal Adelaide Hospital. There's some concern that he might have Infant Respiratory Distress Syndrome.' She paused to frown. ‘It's all very complicated and confusing. I'll hopefully find out more when I get there.'

‘You're going to Adelaide?' asked Josh.

‘Yes.' Aunty Karen poured the water into the teapot. ‘Your mother is okay, but she's exhausted and quite emotional – understandably so. Since your father isn't in a position to leave here, I'm going to help out. Which brings me back to your chores. Your father is rather anxious about everything. He's going to need your help.'

Josh nodded.

Josh swept up the straw and chicken poo. This was probably the task he liked least – the monthly mucking out of the chook shed. Not that he really had any preferences. He'd rather be playing video games, or reading,
or drawing his favourite characters from his favourite video games.

Aunty Karen was gone. Dad was out working. And Josh was alone with his chores … and his thoughts.

There was a niggling, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. A nervousness. Would Mum and Nathan be okay?

He wished that he hadn't slept in this morning. He would have liked to talk to Dad – to find out what he thought and how he felt. To find out why he hadn't gone to Adelaide with Mum. Yes, there was work to be done, but there was a supervisor to organise the station hands and keep things on track. Surely Dad could take some time off?

Josh swept the straw and poo out the door straight onto one of the chickens. It
clucked at him with a disgruntled flapping of its wings before wandering off to peck elsewhere. Josh laughed.

He decided he should hurry. If he got through his chores quickly – he still had to take out the rubbish and feed the two poddy calves – he'd have time to take the bike out. He loved the old Honda trail bike. And he loved the fact that, since turning twelve, Dad allowed him to use it around the station. Another of his chores was to ride along the station perimeter, checking the fencing for damage. He figured he could get away with not doing that today. Instead, perhaps he'd ride out in search of Dad? Ask him about Mum and Nathan. Nate?

‘Nate.' Josh said the name out loud, as if trying it out. ‘Nate.'

He smiled. He liked Nathan. But he liked Nate even better.
I'll call him Nate
, he decided, then and there, amongst all the chook poo.

Josh rested his forehead against the glass and gazed out of the window. The road seemed endless, the desert landscape unchanging. It was all so very isolating.

Every day he travelled two hours on the bus to school in Coober Pedy, and then home again in the afternoon. If the town seemed like the middle of nowhere, the cattle station
where he and his parents lived was beyond nowhere – the centre of … nothing.

He used to study at home. He would do lessons with the School of the Air over the radio. Mum would help with stuff. And sometimes a teacher would come out for a visit to see how he was going. But then in Grade 3 his parents had asked him if he wanted to go to the school in Coober Pedy instead.
A real school? With other kids?
Of course he'd said yes. He didn't care about the long bus rides.

He didn't usually think too much about being isolated, now that he went to a real school. After all, he had his friends, his homework, his chores, his books and his video games to keep him occupied. But the events of this last weekend were making
him think about it all. The remoteness. The far-away-from-help-ness.

What would have happened without the RFDS?
he wondered.
I wouldn't be a big brother, that's for sure. I might not have a mother anymore.

He still wasn't completely certain what had happened on Friday night. Dad had said very little. In fact, he seemed to be talking less than usual. He hadn't found Dad after his chores on Saturday, so by the time Dad got home that evening, Josh had a barrage of questions, fuelled by anxiety …

What happened?

Why didn't you talk to me in the morning before rushing off?

How is Mum?

How is Nate?

When are they coming home?

Dad had been overwhelmed. He gave the briefest of answers …

Premature birth.

You needed to sleep.

Okay.

Nate? Oh, Nathan. Not good.

Don't know.

Then Josh had asked why Aunty Karen got to go with Mum while they stayed on the station.

‘You've got school,' Dad had said. ‘And I've got the station to run. Don't know how long they'll be. Nothing we can do to help. Best for us to stay put and wait.'

He seemed tired and worn out.

A huge yawn brought Josh's mind back into the present. He looked down at the
exercise book in his lap. He still had half an essay to write. He yawned again and tried to write as neatly as he could, given the way the bus moved about. He hoped that he'd get it finished in time.

Josh looked out at the Grade 6 faces staring at him, and licked his dry lips. He didn't like getting up and talking in front of the class like this. It felt as if the other kids were all waiting for him to stuff up and embarrass himself. Especially Marceline – the oh-so-perfect class know-it-all. Everything was a competition for her, and she seemed to thrive on other people's mistakes. She raised an eyebrow and carefully tucked her straight chestnut hair behind an ear.

He took a deep breath and began.

‘Over the weekend I became a big brother.'

He took another deep breath.
That was a good start
, he thought. He looked down at his paper and continued to read.

It was not a great essay. On Friday their teacher had set them a homework assignment. ‘Do something interesting over the weekend,' she had said. ‘Something you wouldn't normally do. Then write about it. Just one page. And I'll get each of you to read it out on Monday.'

The arrival of his brother had pretty much ensured that Josh didn't do anything else over the weekend. And so he wrote about that.

‘Things didn't go to plan, because my little brother decided to arrive early. He
wasn't supposed to be born for a few weeks yet. That's when Mum was going to go to the hospital in Adelaide.'

He looked up at his audience. Big mistake. A girl in the front row was looking out the window. A boy up the back stretched his arms and opened his mouth in an exaggerated yawn. Two kids were passing notes to each other and giggling. Another kid was doodling in his exercise book.
Was anyone interested?
he wondered.

Marceline smirked at him.

Then he spotted Pete and Sally. Josh could always count on his best friends. Sally was tall and skinny, with dark skin and an explosion of frizzy black hair. Pete was short and chunky, with scraggly blond hair. They looked funny together, especially when they
wore the same clothes. Although their school had a dress option for girls, Sally always chose the blue shorts and polo shirt, same as the boys. Sally nodded her encouragement and Pete gave him the thumbs up.

‘Mum went into labour on Friday night instead,' continued Josh, looking back down at his essay. ‘It was real dangerous. So Dad called the RFDS. They flew to the station.'

‘Josh,' interrupted Ms Wright. ‘Could you explain what the RFDS is?'

Explain?
wondered Josh.
Doesn't everyone know about them?

‘Oh. Okay,' said Josh, glancing up into the staring faces.

A boy rolled his eyes. A girl poked her tongue out. Marceline was still smirking. Josh's mouth went dry.

‘The RFDS is short for the Royal Flying Doctor Service. They are doctors and nurses who fly in planes to country places when people need help.'

Josh looked at his teacher and she nodded. He looked back at his essay and continued.

‘The RFDS sent a plane with a midwife. A midwife is a special baby nurse. The plane landed on the airstrip at the cattle station where I live. Dad and I went in the ute to get her and the pilot. The midwife was there for four hours. My baby brother was born at 2.07 am on Saturday morning. His name is Nathan. Or Nate for short. After he was born, the RFDS took him and Mum on their plane to Adelaide. Nate has to stay in hospital for a little while because he was born too early and his lungs don't work properly yet.'

Josh took a deep breath, but didn't look up. He suddenly had a vision of Nate in one of those plastic boxes they put babies into on television hospital shows. He suppressed a shudder and made himself go on.

‘I don't know what would have happened if the RFDS hadn't come to help. That's what the RFDS do. They help people. But the RFDS also need
our
help. They rely on donations. They need people like us to donate money. If you want to help, you can donate money on their website: www.flyingdoctor.org.au. Thank you.'

Josh quickly closed his exercise book and headed straight for his seat without waiting to be dismissed.

‘That was very good, Josh,' said Ms Wright. ‘Before we go on to the next essay,
I think it's worth talking about some of the things Josh has brought up. How many people here have been helped by the Flying Doctors? Or had someone in their family helped by them?'

Four hands went up.

‘Lucy?' Ms Wright pointed to a girl in the middle of the class.

‘My dad broke his leg when he got thrown by a horse,' said Lucy. ‘They came to get him.'

Ms Wright pointed to a boy up the front.

‘I had appendicitis,' he said. ‘I got to fly in a plane to Adelaide.'

The next girl had a grandfather who'd had a heart attack. And the last girl's uncle cut his arm on some farm machinery.

‘How about the clinics that the RFDS runs here in town?' asked Ms Wright. ‘How many of you have gone to those?'

Everyone put up their hands.

‘So we all benefit from the services provided by the RFDS,' said Ms Wright. ‘Perhaps we as a class could do something to help them. Any ideas?'

Pete raised his hand. ‘We could donate our pocket money,' he said.

‘That's very generous, Peter,' said Ms Wright with a smile. ‘But I thought we might be able to do something to encourage other people to donate as well.'

I know
, thought Josh and his hand shot up. The teacher pointed to him.

‘We could hold some sort of fundraiser,' said Josh. ‘Charge money for people to
come to it. And then give the money to the RFDS.'

The class burst into sound as everyone started talking at once, making suggestions as to what they could do.

The bell rang for recess.

‘Calm down, everyone. Calm down,' said Ms Wright, holding out her hands. ‘Why don't you all think about it for a few days. Write down your ideas and bring them to class on Friday. Then we can talk about them and see what we might be able to do.'

A fundraising event. It suddenly seemed very important to Josh. A chance to say thank you to the RFDS for saving his mum and brother.

I have to come up with something
, determined Josh.

‘Hey Dad,' said Josh. ‘I read out my essay in class today.'

‘Huh?' Dad didn't even look up. He was concentrating on not burning the baked beans he was heating up in a saucepan. ‘What essay?'

‘The essay about the RFDS and Nate being born,' said Josh. ‘I told you about it yesterday.'

‘Did you?' said Dad. ‘Don't remember.' Josh sighed.
Does he ever listen to anything I say?

‘Well, I wrote an essay about Nate and the RFDS,' said Josh. ‘And I read it out during class.'

‘Uh-huh,' Dad said absently.

Josh pushed down his disappointment at Dad's reaction and tried to go on. ‘Ms Wright said it was really good.'

‘Miss who?'

‘
Ms
Wright,' corrected Josh. ‘She's my teacher.'

‘Oh, yeah … sure.' Dad lifted the pan from the heat and stirred.

‘Anyway,' Josh persevered, ‘after I finished reading the essay we talked about doing some fundraising for the RFDS. And we all have to think of something we could do as a class. Any ideas?'

‘Oh … um … not really.' Dad slopped a mountain of mushy beans in tomato sauce onto the dish in front of Josh. ‘I don't really have time to think about that. It's been very
busy on the station, and with your mother away I've got even more on my plate.'

Josh looked down at his own plate.
This is dinner?
he thought. Mum had only been gone three nights and he was already sick of Dad's ‘cooking'.

Josh wondered how Mum and Nate were doing. Dad didn't talk much about them. Josh had to ask if he wanted to know anything. The lack of information was just making him worry more.
Actually
, thought Josh,
Dad doesn't talk much about anything these days.

‘So … when's Mum coming home with Nate?' asked Josh.

‘I really don't know, son.' Dad's voice was taking on a fed-up tone. ‘Can we please stop
with the questions and just eat our dinner? I'm tired.'

‘Sure.' Josh unenthusiastically pushed the beans around the plate with his fork.

They ate their meal in silence and then Dad went to bed, leaving Josh to wash up.