CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cause and Effect
21st May to 30th June 1998
On the last day of Taurus, Ann dropped me at home at the end of a long and tiring trip. The next day, we heard Danny suffered a mild stroke and was admitted to hospital where he was also diagnosed with pneumonia. Adamant he would not die before his birthday, nor die in hospital, he summoned the seemingly superhuman will to pull through. On May 28th, I took a call from CRS (Commonwealth Rehabilitation Services). My name had finally come to the top of the waiting list. For my initial appointment on June 1st, I was told to bring my resume and any relevant documentation with me. My life was on fast forward and there was nothing I could do but go with the flow, just as Carolyn had foretold.
On Saturday May 30th, Ann learned about a psychic fair at Mitchelton so she rang to say she was coming to get Tamara and me. Whilst there, I met an amazing iridologist who told me I was wheat intolerant and had a cyst on my left ovary. To determine the truth I consulted my doctor on Monday. In justifying his refusal to follow it up, he said: “The eyes may be the windows to the soul but they can’t tell anything about the body.” Nevertheless, a fortnight later he made the decision to refer me for an ultrasound, citing my gynaecological history as the reason. When it was proven I did indeed have a cyst on my left ovary, he said it was a lucky guess. It was enough for me, though, and I demanded, and got, an allergy test. I wasn’t allergic to wheat but a follow-up blood test came back with a question mark over my gluten tolerance. The next step was an endoscopy. Thankfully, I was cleared of Coeliac Disease. My doctor and I continued to have running battles over natural versus orthodox medicine, but because he was an excellent doctor, albeit not a very broad-minded one, I continued to see him. My own trial and error investigations with wheat established I was most likely intolerant to it.
The most significant thing that happened at the Mitchelton psychic fair by far concerned a man Ann said I should tell my eye-at-the-door story to. After listening intently, he asked me a series of questions such as: Why did I decide to include Ann and Ally in the protection? Why did I take those particular crystals with me? Why did I feel the need to program them to protect me before going? Why? Why? Why? Why? Each question was designed to take me one step further back in time until I found myself telling him about a strange letter “R” I had been doodling since childhood. I found it intriguing that he managed to extract this information from me in less than ten minutes, but I found it even more intriguing to be asked what I knew about Egyptian mythology. I couldn’t see the connection, and because I couldn’t he suggested I go to a library on Monday and do some research.
The Eye of Ra, or as it is now more commonly known, the Eye of Horus, was too similar to my curly-tailed doodle with the eye in the loop to be anything other than a subconscious memory of the ancient past. I had come one step closer to understanding myself. To the ancient Egyptians, the Eye of Horus represented protection on one’s journey to the Afterlife. It was painted on sarcophagi, tombs and temples, as well as crafted into amulets of gold and semi-precious stones. In the modern world, the Eye of Horus represents clairvoyant ability, heightened awareness and protection. On learning that, I could not fail to recall the mantra uttered by my ‘other self’ that night in Ayr: “Nothing can penetrate your protection”. What did it mean? Was it a good thing? Or was it a bad thing? I came to accept it was a good thing. I was being shown that no matter what came at me, if I stayed true to my path, nothing would penetrate the protection afforded me by the Eye of Horus.
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| Ancient Egyptian Eye of Horus amulet |
My last physiotherapy session at the Royal Brisbane Hospital just happened to be on June 1st, the same day as my first appointment with CRS. My case manager, a lady who seemed oddly familiar, didn’t have a high opinion of public hospital physiotherapy and referred me to a private physiotherapist at the Grange for an independent assessment. She also submitted my resume to Centrelink for possible work experience, and arranged for me to do a TAFE computer course. My life was never going to be the same again.
My first consultation with the new physiotherapist was on Friday June 5th. She was a straight-talking woman who determined I would benefit from manipulative physiotherapy so arrangements were made for five sessions, starting immediately. I came to learn that despite her demeanour, Annette not only shared my belief in the supernatural, she had some extraordinary tales of her own to tell. As this was long before I read James Redfield’s classic The Celestine Prophesy I found such synchronicity mind-blowingly fascinating. On Wednesday June 17th, I started work experience at the Chermside Centrelink office. This was during the final days of the CES (Commonwealth Employment Service), and everyone but bureaucrats and politicians knew its replacement, the Job Network, was a disaster in-waiting.
At 7pm that same evening, Kristen called to ask if we could come as time was running out. She was so completely demoralized by then she couldn’t accept my say-so that we would leave at first light. I had to promise I would ask her father. Less than thirty seconds later I rang back only to hear a strange voice at the other end. Kristen had just stepped out. Could she be of any assistance? The moment I told her who I was her words flowed like a river in flood. She was with the Blue Nurses. She had asked Danny’s mother or sister to take Tianni so Kristen could go for a walk because she desperately needed a break. The mother begrudgingly obliged saying she couldn’t see why Kristen couldn’t take care of her own daughter. When the nurse mentioned the stress Kristen had been under caring for her son the woman coldly said there was nothing wrong with him and to “give him a Panadol”.
To ensure Kristen did not endure another night like that we left before dawn. At the first petrol station we pulled into we reported the situation to those we had to answer to and made Ayr by 8pm. We found Danny sitting at the table calculating the weekly orders for the kiosk despite Kristen’s urging that he stop. The kiosk was to be closed but we understood why he was doing it. At 1am, Steve was finally able to get him to lie down.
In the morning, I took Kristen into town while Steve tended to Danny and the shop. On our return, she went into a panic because she had forgotten his morphine. Steve took her back in while I kept an eye on Danny and served the few customers who stopped by. After serving the last of a group of three, I found him sitting at the table, only he wasn’t breathing. The two inches of ash attached to his cigarette told me that. As I gently touched his shoulder the ash fell and he returned to the land of the living. I was able to convince him to lie down on the sofa and from thereon in I watched and waited. I had to leave to serve more people and when I came back the same sight confronted me. Like before, a gentle touch of his shoulder was enough to bring him around and as the ash fell I knew this could not continue.
Kristen was still getting out of the car when I told her what had happened. It was the last straw so the first thing she did on entering the house was to ring the ambulance. Danny was livid. Going to hospital was one step closer to the grave and he wasn’t having it, but the choice was not his to make. That night, while staff and patients tried to watch the State of Origin (interstate Rugby League game) on television, Danny flew into a vengeful tirade at a hapless girl who had taken all she could take and was a whisper away from a complete breakdown. The nursing staff didn’t know who to feel sorrier for. Listening to her sob the whole way home was heartbreaking.
On Saturday morning, I woke with such pain in my heart I held my crystals tightly while asking that the white light be on Danny from that moment to the time he left this life. I was wide awake, just like I was when the eye tried to break through the door so I knew what I saw. I ‘saw’ Danny lying on his bed in his hospital room. I ‘saw’ the ceiling shatter and the pieces fall harmlessly to the floor around him. I ‘saw’ the brightest, most beautiful light beam down from the hole in the ceiling to completely encase his skeletal frame in the bed. In that instant, I just knew all would be well. As long as I live I will never forget that vision. But I knew it was more than a vision. It was a peek into the Light of Divine Love.
Danny’s whole demeanour changed, too, with that Light. He allowed Kristen to shave him and cut his hair, despite knowing it would be for the last time. Later in the morning, with a neighbour minding Tianni, Steve and I drove to Townsville to buy a vacuum cleaner because Kristen didn’t have one and there wasn’t a Godfrey’s in Ayr. With housework way down on the agenda, her broom was insufficient for the massive task ahead. On the outskirts of the town we passed the crematorium and couldn’t help but look at each other.
At dusk, after spending an uncomfortable few hours with Danny’s mother and sister, I took Kristen home. There was an unnatural coldness about the mother and a strange aloofness about the sister. I could feel their eyes boring into me as I sat quietly holding my crystals. How dare I be in that room at that time, and how dare Danny feel more comfortable with me than with them. All the while, I felt a strong need to ask that only evolved souls escort Danny through the veil when his time came. I saw in my mind's eye what I always saw in those early days, whenever I did any work of this nature, two Egyptian guards standing at either side of a great door. With their lances crossed, access to anyone who was not welcome was denied. The first time I saw them in a meditation I was awe-struck for they looked so real. As the sentries uncrossed their lances, I was not surprised to see a man I instinctively knew was Danny's step-father step through the doorway. Although only a step-father, he was the only person who ever showed him unconditional love. No wonder he was the way he was, a broken man, angry at the hand life had dealt him, furious that he was to die before he could see his own child grow to adulthood. But the man stood quietly as if waiting. It was not yet time.
We stayed home on the Sunday morning to allow Danny time with his family. Around 10am, Kristen asked me to do a reading to see if it would be his last day. It was. After lunch, just minutes after making the decision to go, the hospital rang. At 5pm, Ann arrived so I returned to Kristen’s place to give Steve a break from Tianni. She knew something was wrong and was reacting the only way a toddler can when she’s scared. Ann’s arrival was a God-send. In one of those amazing synchronistic events I would come to understand only too well, her parents-in-law were going to Cairns so they simply dropped her off on the way.
At 8.30pm on Sunday June 21st, Tianni stopped screaming to sit upright on the sofa looking intently at the wall. I followed her gaze but couldn’t see anything. Another hour went by before I took Ann’s call. Danny had peacefully passed into spirit at 9.25pm. When I asked her if anything happened at eight-thirty she said he felt he left his body for a time as his eyes seemed lifeless. Yes, I said, he came to say goodbye to his little girl.
In the morning, Kristen told me that when she got up in the night she saw Danny sitting at the table. If she was pleased or frightened I couldn’t tell. In the afternoon, Danny’s sister arrived. She wanted to talk to Kristen alone. Ann refused, saying anything she had to say to her friend she could say to her. The woman was adamant it was family business and concerned no one but the family.
On Tuesday June 23rd, the day of Danny’s funeral, Steve drove to Townsville, but unlike the previous Saturday we couldn’t find the crematorium. We ended up in the city itself and had to ask for directions. On our second attempt we still couldn’t find it and pulled into a service station. On our third attempt we had no better luck. It was as if a giant cloak had been draped over the complex. After hailing a passing motorist we finally pulled into the car park at the exact moment the radio station played the Elton John song Daniel (you’re my brother). Ann and I could only just look at each other in amazement. If Steve noticed he didn’t say anything and Kristen was beyond thinking.
We were twenty minutes late! Feeling terrible, we hastily made our way towards the chapel only to be bailed up by Sister Sue. She gave Kristen a hug and told her to open her mouth and lift her tongue. Sister Sue was definitely unlike any nun I ever knew. Besides being a believer in Bach Flower Essences, she was a Reiki practitioner and yoga enthusiast. “Don’t you worry about those bitches” she said as she gently closed Kristen’s mouth. “They can wait.”
She was referring to Joyce and Sue, Danny’s mother and sister, who were standing outside the chapel tapping their feet impatiently with their arms folded across their chests. As we walked towards them one snarled: “It’s about time! What the.....” The nun’s icy glare stole the remaining words from her mouth and in a huff, they turned on their heels and entered the chapel. Less than four hours later Sue was at the door. She was going camping and needed the air mattress she had lent Kristen for us to sleep on. Interestingly enough, Joyce also had plans to go away that afternoon.
Steve and I spent the night in Tianni’s single bed while the girls fell asleep in the lounge room with the television on. On Wednesday, Kristen’s stubborn refusal to see reason about a personal matter caused a rift with Ann, forcing Steve to intervene. That same day, an Ayr storekeeper agreed to buy the kiosk stock, just as Jason predicted. However, just hours later, a knock at the door brought us news that Danny had not paid the milk vendor. The money Kristen received from the storekeeper, money she so desperately needed, would almost cover the debt. What would she do? It was a hard-fought battle, but she did hand it over.
Early the next day, I tried to persuade her to come to Brisbane with us but Danny’s nightly visitations had her convinced otherwise. She also said she had to be there when Joyce and Sue returned. Why, I didn’t know. They treated her abysmally. Even promises Joyce made to entice them to move to Ayr so Danny could run her kiosk were never kept. Why would anything change now? Still, we did manage to thrash out a compromise of sorts. Kristen would apply for a housing commission house in Townsville and start making a new life for herself.
Around 9am on Thursday, Ann drove us into town so Kristen could lodge her housing application and attend to some personal business. It didn’t take us long to realise the milk vendor wasn’t the only person Danny owed money to. Ann was becoming frantic, but I couldn’t tell her what Jason said in case she let something slip. He wouldn’t have said it was imperative Kristen not know unless there was a good reason. All I could do was to take comfort from it. Needing a distraction outside one shop, Ann wandered off to look through some items on sale. I was about to join her when I got the strangest feeling I had to ask Kristen once more if had signed something she shouldn’t have. When she went on the defensive, my heart sank.
“What have you signed?” I asked.
“Nothing, not really”
“But you did sign something. What was it?” Ann demanded.
“I told you, it was nothing, just funeral papers.”
With a haste borne of dread, we immediately returned to the car and drove back to Kristen’s place to call the funeral home. My worst fears were confirmed. Joyce and Sue had manipulated Kristen into opting for a fine coffin and then tricked her into taking responsibility for all costs incurred in a funeral they insisted she have. That’s what Sue was up to the day after her brother’s death. The man on the other end was horrified and angry at himself for not heeding the warning signs. He told us to leave it with him and to try not to worry.
After hanging up, I told Kristen to call Sister Sue in Townsville. The housework Steve had been doing when we left for town had given way to a new and more pressing situation. Sister Sue told Kristen to stay strong and that she would contact a solicitor friend to see where she stood legally. Less than thirty minutes later, the solicitor rang to ask Kristen a series of questions. When he was satisfied he understood the situation, he advised us to go through every paper and document we could find. We started in Danny’s ‘office’ and moved around the house in a methodical manner. Anything with Kristen’s name on it went into one pile and anything in Danny’s name, his mother’s or siblings’ names, or the name of the kiosk, went into another pile. We uncovered some interesting documents, particularly one relating to why Danny was summoned to Ayr, but only one bearing Kristen’s name – a recently paid electricity account.
During this highly-charged emotional time, Ann rang her husband to ask him to come. She needed to see him and their son. As before, she brought the baby with her. I then rang Peter. Kristen had to get away and I could think of nowhere better than his house on the Tablelands. With Joyce and Sue conveniently away we set our own plans into motion. By the time they got back, we would be gone. Kristen would not be alone and defenceless, ready to be moulded into a slave for their own malicious purposes. She would not be there at all.
With commando-like precision, Steve loaded our station wagon with enough of Kristen’s belongings to fill the boot of a sedan. We were dropping them off in Cairns on our way to Mareeba. Ann’s parents-in-law had agreed to take them to Brisbane on their return trip. Whilst in Cairns, Ann made a last minute decision to spend the few days with them instead of coming to Peter’s with us. In Mareeba, Kristen was free to be herself and under her cousin, Kylie’s, watchful gaze, she went out, had a few drinks, and let her hair down. It was a short-lived, but necessary break. On our return to Alva Beach via Cairns to collect Ann and her baby, we found her husband and son waiting for us. Throughout the afternoon, as Tianni and Chris ran around laughing and playing, Steve and Jason loaded the cars while Kristen, Ann and I cleaned what we could between loads of washing and packing. By nightfall, we had emptied the house except for cupboards, the clothes dryer and Tianni’s hobby horse, a present from Joyce.
On Monday morning June 29th, the unenviable task of taking Kristen’s cats to the pound fell to Steve. But being so early in the day there was no one to answer his summons. When he had to leave them outside in the box he had put them in, he wept, not only for the animals, but for everything. Until then, he had been the indefatigable Scorpio I knew so well – unfathomable; impenetrable; unassailable.
The past few days had been a deeply emotional time for us all but, with no time to finish cleaning the house, we simply closed the doors behind us, got in our cars, and drove away. There were two things we had to do, though, before we could leave the negative pall of Ayr behind us. The first was to stop at the post office to leave a forwarding address for Kristen’s mail, stipulating that only personally-addressed mail was to be forwarded. The second was to finalise the electricity account. At the post office, just as Kristen was about to write down our address on the re-direction form, Ann told her to stop. She had a better idea. We got a pleasant surprise when finalising Kristen’s electricity bill. As the security deposit on a business was five times that of domestic premises she was told they would most likely be paying her!
We arrived home in the early hours of the last day of June, having endured a relentless trip to Brisbane, much of it through driving rain and wind. We were physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausted. Around mid-morning, Ann called in to take Kristen to Chermside so she could lodge her application for public housing and stop in at Centrelink. A new era had begun and with that came new responsibilities we all knew she was far from ready for.
As the day passed into night, I gave Kristen the phone and told her to call Sister Sue in Townsville. Two hours later, she fell into a fitful sleep. I may have known what it was like to lose both parents, but I never knew what it was like to lose a partner, or to be betrayed by treacherous people I so desperately needed to love and accept me. All I could do was be there to pick up the pieces.
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