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77. The Silence
I did it. I made it through my first autumn and winter season alone, without Bruce. It was lonely, and dark, but I somehow made it through. Many of my nights were spent in silence, listening to the bustle of the city below. I heeded Bruce's concern and applied and obtained my skilled working visa. I was permitted to remain in the country for another year.
After applying for several jobs, I finally was hired at St. Vincent's Hospital on their locked psychiatric unit. . This was also around the same time that I fell for David.
I never thought I'd meet anyone ever again after the Joker broke my heart. But as everyone so diligently tell you, you always meet someone when you least expect yourself to.
David was a colleague on the psych unit. He was a gentleman—and he kind of reminded me of Bruce. David was from a suburb of Sydney called Seaforth, which was a stone's throw away from Manly beach. During those early days of summer, David and I took the ferry from Darling Harbour to Manly.
Our courtship started gently enough. The numb platonic nature of those early dates soon faded into the slight tingle of fancy—when David suddenly occupied my daytime thoughts. We had spent my first winter getting to know one another at work as friends. I really enjoyed working with David. He was funny, witty, brilliant, and of course, handsome. I mean, he was Australian, after all! I never got used to his accent. It thrilled me through and through to hear him talk.
"David—where are we right now?" I excited probed him one night as we sat at Manly beach. We had spent the day surfing at Bondi Beach and then we made our way back to Manly. The sun had long since set below the horizon and the ocean and sky turned into a black void before us. Only the constant rushing of waves reminded me that ocean was in front of me.
"Down unduh," he smirked, his accent seeping through each word he spoke. My heart was giddy with excitement. He knew how much I loved the Aussie accent.
"You know, I think our patients really appreciate the way I talk," I joked, "it's something different for them,"
"What a fucking ball ache!" he laughed back at me, "you wish you sounded like us, you crazy yank,"
"Oh please! You've never even been out of Sydney. What do you even know about the States!?"
"Enough to know that you're better off here with us," David's smile was wide and genuine as he placed an arm about me. He was certainly right about that one!
"That's really sweet, thanks David," I smiled up at him.
"Hey, I've got an idea—why don't we take a trip down to Melbourne," he suggested.
"I'd really love that," I replied, still smiling.
Our trip to Melbourne was new for the both of us—a place neither of us had been. And we loved every minute we were visiting. I particularly enjoyed their Italian precinct. It felt more like home. Melbourne definitely had a Boston-like vibe to it. Even the river that ran through the city reminded me of the Charles River in Boston. Maybe if things went well with David, we could move to Melbourne…
But there is something about the way the world works that will never quite make sense to me. Why things happen the way they do, I'll never be able to figure it out. I certainly liked David enough to go on some dates with him over the summer. He took me away from the solitude of my early days of living in Australia. And as summer turned to autumn, David's presence in my blossomed slowly and gently into a beautiful romance—the romance I knew I deserved. But when I finally felt the tinge of excitement flutter forth from my heart, the nightmares started.
The silence was broken. The Joker's dark eyes bore deeply into my brain. I felt his breath on my neck, the white face paint smudging onto my cheek. I awoke drenched in a cold sweat, the smell of chips and peanut oil lingering in the air. How!? I rubbed my face, frantically trying to wake myself fully from the night terror's hold.
I leapt from the bed and got a glass of water from the bathroom. Gulping it down frantically, I looked up and saw myself in the mirror. My mirror image scars were bleeding.
My hand shaking, I softly tapped the scars with my finger tips. Blood. I must have scratched myself in my sleep. They were incredibly well-healed. There was no reason for them to just start bleeding for no apparent reason.
Up until the start of my new job, I hadn't thought of the Joker. But the silence that heralded my thoughts broke free into a corrupt and cacophonous laughter. The Joker's laughter echoed through my very core. This night was the first of a nightly parade of terror that would continue haunting well into winter.
How could I possibly tell David? There were just way too many skeletons in my closet. There was no way he'd ever understand anything that happened in my past. I supposed that maybe if he was the right guy, then maybe he would understand and not judge me for what I had done and been involved in, but there was just no way of knowing.
I opted to keep it all to myself. I didn't want to scare the guy away! I was really falling for David. And goddamn I deserved something normal for a change! Even Bruce liked David! That was really saying something there.
But the nightmares never went away, and they never got any better. In fact, as the Sydney autumn days grew shorter, my nightmares grew more and more vivid. It felt like the Joker was actually inside of my penthouse room. One night, I could have sworn I heard his voice whisper in my ear before I had even fall asleep. I had checked the entire penthouse that night and I was completely alone. I didn't know if he knew where I was and he was channeling his energies towards me or not, or if I was just going completely mad—I had no way of telling.
I walked into work that next morning, my scars red and scabbed from bleeding. No one ever really asked me about my scars, but part of me wanted to tell them. Part of me wanted to make up stories like the Joker had—give people a multiple choice answer as to what they wanted to believe about the scars. But I kept it to myself. Maybe no one asked me because up until this day, no one had really noticed.
"Oh, Giada, what happened to your face?" a nurse called Jasmine asked as I walked onto the unit.
"I…uh…I woke up to them bleeding last night. I'm not sure what caused it to bleed. Maybe I scratched them in my sleep or something," I replied honestly. I was distraught. Now I knew why the Joker just made up stories as to how he got his scars. I suppose I could just do the same…
"I never noticed them before, I'm sorry Giada. I didn't mean to probe," Chloe said, forcing a small smile.
"It's alright," I stated flatly as I walked past her and into my office. It was going to be a very long day of group therapy sessions.
"How did you get those scars, Giada?" one of the patients asked. He raised his eyes brows and licked his lips. Something about him immediately reminded me of the Joker. My heart stopped at the thought. The irony of the situation nearly killed me. There I was with a group of mentally ill patients and the one who reminded me of the Joker the most asked me about my scars. It was uncanny.
It wasn't even 8:30. This was going to be a very long day!
"My scars are not a subject for debate. Let's continue with the session please," I retorted curtly. I needed a glass of wine or something. Maybe an Irish coffee, since it wasn't even mid-morning yet!
"Oh come on, we tell you all about ourselves and we know nothing about you—save for your lovely Yank accent," the patient probed. I pursed my lips together tightly.
"The story of how I got my scars has no pertinence on anything that we bring to the table here in group therapy. In fact, I think we should take this moment to evaluate all of our scars—be they physical or emotional," I replied. Man, I was good at turning things around!
* *
The whole week of work was difficult. Every single session I had, patients asked me about my scars. Little did they know that with each probing question, the ripped open more than just my facial scars. And of course at night, the nightmares raged on. I couldn't even find it within myself to let David spend the night. I was terrified I'd wake up in a heated cold sweat the the scent of peanut oil and chips in the air.
What was I doing? Why did I think I was okay? I worked so hard to forget the Joker, and for the most part, it worked…until I started falling in love with David. Was it love? Was love the right word to describe how I felt for David?
Every time I thought of David, I smiled, but I was never really quite sure where I could place him in my feelings. I wanted to say that I was falling in love with him, but we had been together for almost a year and I still felt only mildly. My body didn't sizzle when we touched, my lips didn't melt into his when we kissed, my heart didn't flutter into my stomach when he called. But I was content. I was happy. I felt normal. Except for these damn nightmares that now plagued my every thought. As if robbing me of sleep wasn't enough, I was now thinking about them during my daytime hours.
I sat at my desk, immersed in my thoughts of the Joker and the vivid dreams in which he'd appear, either with his arm in a chokehold about my neck, or, with his lips locked to mine. Both scenarios would leave me gasping for me. I couldn't figure out why I was still so intrigued by this psychopath. He had his chance with me, and he blew it. I needed to be away from him now and forever. And there was nothing that was going to bring me back to him. I knew that more than ever, I needed to stay in Australia as far away from him as possible.
And then that following spring, I took another trip to Melbourne with David. It was there in Melbourne that shit really hit the fan and the silence really broke.
We were sat at a cafe in the Italian precinct and David dropped the bomb.
"Giada, I feel like I could do this forever," he smiled widely. I loved his smile. It was so calming and beautiful. He brushed a hand through his dirty blonde hair which hung just above his shoulders.
I smiled back at him, "me too! This is wonderful,"
"But I get the sense that there's a lot more to you than meets the eye. I mean, let's be honest, G, we've been together for nearly two years. I feel like there's still so much I don't know about you,"
My heart raced, but my face was calm. Joker face, "Well, what's there to know? I told you I'm from Boston, and my family is Italian. I told you where I went to school and that I worked my first job in Gotham,"
"I don't know. You're right—you told me all of that, but I just feel like there's something you're not telling me. Forgive me for probing. I just can't move forward if we can't be honest with each other," David was suddenly very serious. I felt my heart plummet into my stomach. Was he dumping me? Did he want to end things? Would he really do this here, in Melbourne, at a public cafe?! My face reddened slightly under my olive skin. Hopefully he didn't notice.
"I—I agree completely," I stuttered, "So what else would you like to know?"
David paused and smiled, "Don't be nervous, Giada! I'm not breaking up with you," he laughed suddenly, "Just the opposite, actually,"
He slid from his seat into one knee, "Giada DiMarco, our time together has been brief, but I am absolutely smitten by you. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"
My heart actually exploded. David was on his knee in front of me, proposing to me! He didn't even ask me about my scars! My mouth dropped open and as I was about to say 'yes!', the Joker's face popped into my mind's eye.
"Help! Is there a doctor? My father's collapsed!" David and I both turned our heads in the direction of the voice which sliced right through my silence. Stunned, I bolted out of my chair for the man who was laying unconsciously on the ground.
I looked up at David as I felt the man's carotid pulse, "I don't feel a pulse, do you feel a pulse?"
"No, I don't feel a pulse. Do you feel one?" David asked.
"No, I don't feel a pulse," I immediately started chest compressions on the man while David ran into the cafe in search of an AED. In an instant, he returned with the box. I was already beaded in sweat as I counted to 30 and then delivered two breaths into the still unconscious man. David and I slapped the AED pads on the man and David resumed compressions while I turned on the AED and got ready to defibrillate.
"What happened to him?" I asked the man's family who stood by, each of them in tears. Something about them was familiar. I couldn't really put my finger on it as to why, so I ignored it.
Not moments later, the man achieved what we call in healthcare, 'ROSC', or return of spontaneous circulation. He was still mostly unconscious, but he had a pulse, was breathing on his own, and was in a normal rhythm on the monitor. And within minutes, the paramedics ran onto the scene and took over.
"He…he just collapsed," the older woman was sobbing as he relayed the story to the paramedics.
"Thank you so much for your help—you saved our father," the younger woman said as she wiped her eyes.
"It's our pleasure, miss," David smiled, shaking her hand.
"His name is John Napier," I heard the older woman tell the paramedics. My heart pounded inside of my chest as my eyes darted at the family before me. They looked so familiar and I immediately knew why.
"I'm Melinda, and this is my brother Edward, and our mum Cindy," Melinda introduced us. It was all a bad dream. It was my nightmare continuing into my waking life.
I just saved the Joker's father. I just met the Napiers. And what a normal, Australian family they seemed to be!