Chapter 2

For a while, he hadn't been able to really focus on anything. It was as if his mind refused to acknowledge what had just happened; much like his father every time he brought that forsaken gin bottle up to his lips. But even through his watering eyes and dulled head, he remember one thing; lights. The random pricks of light he'd seen behind his eyelids, the light fading from his mum's face, that overly fluorescent light and the blurring of the streetlamps on the long drive home. It was still there.

Hauntingly.

Bag weighing heavily on his shoulders, Austin looked around the bustling lobby with a fond smile. He didn't care for the strange looks, he just couldn't contain how happy he was to be back. Taking a deep breath, he let the smell of mixed medications, steriliser and fresh cut flowers sweep through him, enriching him with familiar memories. Ah, hospitals. He never really understood why people hated these places. As a kid he had asked his mother, but she'd just flapped a shooing hand at him, as his father grumbled about a place where the sick go to die. It still struck him as unusual, but to him, St. Margaret's was also a place of new life and second chances. And the nurses and doctors here were good people, always putting their best foot forward to help others. Why wouldn't someone love this place?

Hefting his bag further up his aching back, he headed towards the front desk, waving joyfully to the receptionist who broke into a wide, knowing smile when they caught sight of him.

Ah, Austin. I would say I'm surprised to see you here… she signed, making him grin.

"But it seems I just cannot stay away from you." He sighed, leaning against the desk playfully. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she typed away.

"I imagine this isn't just a social visit for me though?"

"You would be correct. I'm looking for-" He was interrupted as she suddenly turned serious, titling her head towards the intercom system. Austin didn't need for her to hold a finger in signal to wait, he was all too use to these quirks. Instead he watched as she tapped at her headpiece, answering whoever had paged her over the intercom system. Drumming his fingers lightly, he hummed untunefully to himself, enjoying the vibrations rumbling in his chest. He should have brought some music with him. Maybe that new bass piece that Dez had been urging him to listen to. Or something jazzy. He felt like he was in a jazz kind of mood…

Austin.

Looking up at he smiled politely at the receptionist, waiting for her to continue.

"You were saying before? Why exactly are you here?" she prompted, busy staking some papers away into a clear file.

"Well…" he trailed off, the question catching him off guard. Truth be told, he wasn't really sure why he was here. It was possibly because since Health class earlier that day, all that had been on his mind was the hospital of his youth, and what his parents were going to do when they saw the permission letter. It was sure to lead to yet another 'discussion'.

Slouching against the desk, he frowned, completely forgetting about the waving receptionist as he floated away on his turbulent thoughts.

When kids lose their hearing, parents tend to blame themselves. He had watched during the therapy sessions as they convinced themselves that there were signs, that there were moments where they could have turned fate around and helped him. They bet away helping, comforting hands in favour of blocking the incident out completely. Avoid hospitals and the streets surrounding them. Talk normally around him. Refuse to acknowledge that anything was different.

And for a while, it had worked. He grew up learning to lip read, the talking with his hands just became a natural habit. It wasn't until that smoke alarm went off one hot afternoon when he was alone in the house did they start to realise they needed help. He remembered the tears streaking down his mother's ash covered face as she rocked him, murmuring something he couldn't distinguish as his father helped battle the blaze. When everything had returned to some state of 'normal' they sat down for a family meeting and did some research. They had tried to educate themselves on the world of the hearing impaired, tried to learn sign language, tried to not lose their temper over simple actions. Ever since then, the tears could be set off by the slightest thing and the cupboard in the den was fully stocked. Though they were stressed, there was no denying it anymore.

He was jolted from his guilt trip as a nurse shook him, trying to get his attention.

Sorry Austin, but you're starting to scare the patients. He smiled, nodding at the curious gazes behind the boy. Tossing a sheepish smile over his shoulder, he hiked his bag up again, murmuring his apologies.

It's okay. Now, what can I help you with?

"Oh yeah…I came to visit someone…is Nurse Madeline here today?"

There it was. That familiar flicker of relaxation the adults and medical unit seemed to get when he turned up unannounced. For some bizarre reason, they always jumped to the conclusion that his ears or head hurt, not that he simply enjoyed their company. Long term patients never enjoyed their doctor's company.

You're in luck. She's just around the corner, doing her rounds. Try not to bother her too much now son.

"Don't worry, I won't be long." He bid his goodbyes before heading off down the corridor, in hunt of his favourite nurse. She'd know what to do.

Sure enough, said woman was hovering over a patient's medical files at the corner desk, gnawing on her pen as if it were a piece of liquorice. He slowed his pace, taking in her appearance with the familiarity a child does when seeing their grandparents. With her frizzy white hair puffed around her head, she looked like a withering dandelion seed, he realised fondly. Her shoulders were hunched up around her ears, and her worn scrubs forever stained with what she had described as 'peanut butter and raspberry jam'. He still bitterly remembers her laughing when he requested one of those sandwiches she always seemed to be making. Thinking he could surprise her, he started to sneak up behind her, only to halt when she looked up suddenly. She grinned when she saw him, waggling an eyebrow cheekily.

"You never were light on your feet kid."

What was it with these doctors and making him feel sheepish? He felt like he was five years old again.

"Hi Gran Maddie."

Her grin relaxed into a smile as she set her notes down, holding her arms out for a hug, to which he couldn't refuse. As a child he had debated with the other kids in the wards on whether or not Nurse Madeline's hugs had healing powers. To this day he stuck to his belief. Whether it was a broken heart, a bad day or pain of an old injury or memory, as soon as he stepped into her arms, he relaxed.

"Now, as much as I take delight in seeing your handsome face, there must be a reason for you to be here."

Right as always. He signed glumly.

"Come on. I've got to continue these rounds, you can talk to me as we walk." She sighed, picking up her discarded files before setting off at a fast pace. So he did. He complained about his long day at school, about the new teaching programme, about his parents and about his dread about the whole situation. He never had to stop to see if she was listening, as she always had the right answer on hand when tested. He could rant and rant at her back for as long as he liked, and she'd still send him off with a lollypop and a piece of advice.

"…I mean, I would love to be able to come here every day after school, and just chill with you guys and the patients, but I just know my parents. They'll be okay with it at first, but as soon as I start bringing home my reports or staying out too late, they'll freak and barricade me away again. And then they'll complain about my lacking grades, and the school will suggest some kind of teaching tool and it'll start all over again. Or, they'll try to home school me again. And I vowed I'd never let that happen again. Those years were the worst. And I'm two years off graduating. Two years. What happens when I go to college? I'll get shunned again. Please, Gran Maddie, you have got to help me. I really don't know what to do."

She paused at the end of a patient's bed to check their clipboard, chewing at her pen for a moment, a thoughtful frown furrowing her brow. After a quick word to the patient, she pulled Austin away from prying eyes and large ears into the corridor.

"Honestly Austin, I don't think you're going to like what I have to say on the matter."

Anything is better than hearing my parents yelling at each other. He signed desperately, his voice raw from over use.

"It's just, there's not much I can do. I've heard about your school coming in to help with the rounds in the afternoons, and to be honest, I find it more of a hassle than a help. We don't really need unexperienced kids running around filling pill bottles. But in a few weeks, once you guys get the hang of how things run, it might not be as tedious. Anyway, you've got this opportunity to show your parents that your hearing loss really doesn't affect you in the ways they think it does. And it's a chance for you to improve your education. You've hinted at wanting to become a doctor or councillor of some sort before, I really believe that you volunteering here will help you gain a better understanding for how things work. If you want, I could talk to your parents, explain to them that I'll be around and-"

"Woah, woah, woah." Austin interrupted with a grimace, "I don't want to put you in the firing line. The school and I are going to have to deal with enough of the shit storm-"

"Austin!"

"-Sorry, but we're going to be dealing with that anyway, and I really don't want to pull you into it all."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, how about I write a letter of recommendation?"

He paused, considering it with a grain of salt.

"Fine," he relented after some time, "but I'm going to get the lecture of a life time later."

Nurse Madeline smiled and patted his arm comfortingly. "You'll be fine. Oh," she broke off, her work face slipping back into position as a red light started blinking from her pager. "Sorry son, but I've got to go. Emergency chopper is landing. All hands on deck."

"Okay, but-"

I'll send that letter in the post later tomorrow! Good luck! She signed as she left, joining the stream of medical staff racing for the landing pad. Soon he was left in the abandoned corridor, still unconvinced he had made the right decision.

This was becoming difficult. Standing at the end of his driveway, Austin looked up at the dark, presumably empty house, wondering just how much longer he had to keep up this ruse. Since the sudden announcement in class on Monday, he had been running home from school each day to check the mail, hoping to intercept Mrs Francois' letter before his parents could see it. Why, he wasn't entirely sure, but if it prevented having a talk he wasn't ready for, he didn't see the harm in it. Flipping through today's bills, he sighed in nervous relief before making his way inside. Dropping his bag beside the messy shoe pile, he trooped into the lounge, dropping the collected bills beside the flashing answer machine.

"Hello?"

He waited a moment, but felt no footsteps radiating towards him. Shrugging he began a hunt for the remote amongst the excessive sofa cushions, cursing to himself about his mother's need to be overly homey. Flicking on the TV to any random channel, so if anyone was home they'd be alerted to his presence, he started his normal after school routine of food and homework, forever contemplating the problem on hand. Though he had managed to avoid his parents' questions about school, he knew they were starting to get suspicious. How would they really react when he told them the news? How would he act? Had he even given the idea of volunteering room to grow? Growling under his breath he pulled away from the table to search for something to stuff his face with. A few minutes later, he was busy munching through a bowl of popcorn when his father stepped in, wiping his hands on a tarnished stained rag. The older man stopped comically in the entrance way, blinking in surprise at his only son, who stared back at him in bemusement.

Austin! When did you get home?

About an hour or so ago? Why?

"Nothing, you just…surprised me is all."

"Were you in the music room?"

"Yeah, just polishing the brass…felt a bit jazzy today…"

"Huh, I felt like that the other day…must be thing at the moment."

There was an awkward silence as the two Moon men tried to find a subject worth broaching. It'd been awhile since it was just them. Eventually Mr Moon cleared his throat and nodded towards the books scattered across the dining table. "Busy studying?"

"Yeah...parabolas. I couldn't understand them in class today so I thought I'd give them a crack now."

It was just a slip of the tongue, a lack of judgement after this whole, stressful week, but it was enough. Freezing, he watched from the corner of his eye as his dad inhaled deeply, mentally counting to ten as he psyched himself up to ask the question that had been hovering. Slowly he began to sign, something he only did when he really wanted to make his point clear.

How is school Austin? And don't try to change the topic. He warned, sending him a knowing look as he pulled up chair next to his son, tucking the rag into his shirt pocket. Pushing his homework away slowly, Austin went over the pros and cons of telling his dad first about the expected letter.

"Well…actually, there is something I've been meaning to tell you and mum. As you know, I…struggle in school."

"Because you can't hear the teachers, and they often turn their backs to the class. Yes. Go on."

"Right," Austin said slowly, unsure on how this was going, "So the other day, we as were handing in our assignment for Health, and Mrs Francois mentioned that a few people in the class were on course for a failing grade, and there wasn't much they could do to pick them up before Christmas. And because it was Spirit Week and all, her and teachers came up with an idea for those failing students."

"Wait," his dad interrupted with a confused frown. "Are you one of these failing students?"

"I prefer struggling… I'm not as bad as some of the others in my class."

"Okay…go on."

"So, she's organised this volunteer work that fits in with our Health class and with Spirit Week. She's calling it 'Hands on Experience' and it's to see whether or not some students benefit from this type of learning."

"Yes, but the way you're building this up Austin makes me believe there's some kind of catch." His dad warned, giving him the 'just cut to the chase' look. Fidgeting uncomfortably, Austin mumbled it out.

"What?"

"ItsatStMargarets."

"Austin."

"It's at St. Margaret's."

He flinched, waiting for the usual frustrated outburst, but it never came. Instead his dad remained seated, staring at his hands thoughtfully. Eventually he pulled one of Austin's textbooks toward him and mulled over it for a bit.

"You said you're struggling in class, but you didn't confirm that you're failing."

"I'm….close to failing. Especially in Health now thanks to Rogers."

"What?"

"Nothing."

His dad sighed before turning to face him properly. That thoughtful frown was still in place, puzzling him. "You volunteered didn't you."

"I'm sorry, I just thought that it might be a good opportunity, and my grades are bad, and Nurse Madeline and Mrs Francois both think it's a good idea and-"

"I think you should as well."

"-I really didn't mean to….wait, what?" He couldn't believe his eyes. Did he just read what he thought he read? "Can you repeat that last bit? I thought I saw wrong."

With a smile that could be more accurately called a grimace, his father reached out a comforting hand to clap onto his shoulder. "You didn't. I think this is a good opportunity, even if it is at…the hospital. I mean, I've known for a while now that you're still visiting there and there's nothing we can do to stop it. And you want to be a doctor or something. You said that Nurse Madeline and Mrs Francois both agree as well?"

"Well, yeah. A couple of letters are meant to come in the mail this week. I'm guessing today. I need to get the permission slip handed in by tomorrow or I can't attend the course."

"I'll sign it for you."

"Really?" He was astonished. He couldn't remember the last time his dad had been involved in something this important to him. Well, verbally anyway. "Man, thanks dad. But, what about mum? I'm half expecting her to freak when she finds out."

"Oh, she'll freak. Expect tears. But I'll talk to her, explain what's happening. Trust me son, when it comes to your education and your dreams, we support you no matter what. We want to see you achieve these things in life Austin."

No words could explain how happy he was feeling right now.

"Oh, speak of the devil, here comes your mother. I think she's got the rest of today's mail. You just continue with your homework and I'll go talk to her."

"Thanks dad. This…this really means a lot to me."

His dad gave him a watery, sad smile, before clapping him one final time on the shoulder, easing himself up out of his chair. Mrs Moon came waltzing in, murmuring something as she scanned through the letters in her hand, before calling to Mike. Austin watched as his dad slowly lumbered over to her, before pausing, swivelling on his heel to look at his son.

"Hey Austin…do you have to wear a uniform?"

"Ah, yes." He stammered, flabbergasted. Mr Moon nodded thoughtfully before returning to his journey towards his wife who looked just as confused, if not worried.

"Uniform?"

"Honey, there's something we need to discuss."