The Rosie Result Read online

  Dave laughed. ‘You having fun?’

  ‘I am now. Rosie will be impressed by Hudson eating fish in non-crumbed form.’

  ‘It’s always different when you’ve been part of it. Like the roo on the ’cue. But you’re still stressed. Trying to figure out what to do about Hudson, right?’

  ‘I need to discuss the autism problem with him before the end of the trip. So we can proceed to solving it.’

  ‘There’s no solutions to that sort of thing. I mean, people stuff. Anyway, you solve one thing, another comes along. I hope what I said to Hudson about being able to do anything you want was okay. I don’t really believe it anymore, but you have to when you’re young.’

  Dave opened two beers. ‘By the way, the rhythm thing. Reason I pulled you up was he’d been keeping time on the back of my seat before you said anything. Slap-slap, tappitytap, right on the beat.’

  ‘Are you competent to judge?’

  ‘My great-grandma was African-American. It’s in my genes. Right?’

  ‘Highly unlikely. But why didn’t he demonstrate? He would have passed the test.’

  ‘He likes to keep a few things to himself. Like the swimming. If you’d known he’d been training, you wouldn’t have been so impressed.’

  Hudson joined us. ‘How about you and I let your dad catch up on his reading tomorrow?’ said Dave.

  ‘I need to be there,’ I said. ‘To—’

  ‘Relax,’ said Dave. ‘We’ve got this.’

  For the next two days, Dave and Hudson fished and returned for dinner. There were two more trout on the first day, both caught by Dave. On the second, Dave left his crutch behind and there was a total of five fish, two of which had been caught by Hudson. ‘Dave helped with the first one, but the second one was totally mine,’ he said.

  ‘And he cleaned both of them.’

  ‘Not as gross as a pigeon,’ said Hudson.

  ‘That reminds me,’ said Dave. ‘I’ve got a challenge. We can each ask the other guys one question, and they’ve gotta tell the truth. But it’s between us. What gets said on the fishing trip stays on the fishing trip.’

  ‘Unless it involves potential harm to somebody.’ I remembered Rosie’s concern about Gary the Homeopath. And I needed to clarify the process. ‘As there are three of us, that means each of us asks the other two participants one question, hence a total of six questions. Correct?’

  ‘You got it. Don, you can ask Hudson the first question.’

  ‘I think I know what it’s going to be,’ said Hudson to Dave. ‘Since you said, “That reminds me” when I said pigeon.’

  ‘You think it’s about whether you killed that pigeon at school, right?’ said Dave. ‘You think that’s the most important thing your dad wants to know? And you think we set this up so he could ask that, right?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘You’re wrong. On three counts. First, we didn’t plan it. Second, it’s not the thing your dad cares about most. Third, we both know you didn’t kill the pigeon, and your dad isn’t the sort of guy to waste a question. If we’re wrong, you’d better tell us now, and we’ll both have to apologise for being idiots.’

  ‘You’re not idiots.’

  By Dave’s criteria, I had been an idiot, because I had been about to waste a question.

  ‘You should go first,’ I said to Dave.

  ‘Come to think of it, it’s probably not a great idea. We want to share something, we share it, and it stays here. We don’t need to play games. I’ve got one question, though. For you, Don. You got another fish recipe?’

  ‘You didn’t like it?’

  ‘It was great. Just good to have variety. I don’t want to go out looking for trout tomorrow knowing I’m condemning us to the same meal three nights in a row.’

  Hudson selected a trout recipe from the internet and, as we sat down to eat, on the outside deck, Dave made a serious—probably illegal—error of judgement.

  ‘Would you like to try a beer, Hudson? If that’s okay with your dad.’

  It was definitely not okay. I explained, to both of them, about the damage to developing brains and finished by telling them that if I had my life again, I would probably have chosen not to drink alcohol at all.

  Dave apologised. ‘Sorry, I crossed a line there. Your dad’s right.’

  ‘He drinks less than he used to,’ said Hudson. ‘He was drinking way too much. Mum too. But I don’t like alcohol anyway. It tastes disgusting. And burns.’

  ‘Who gave you alcohol?’

  ‘I work in a bar, remember? But Merlin.’

  I was amazed that Hudson would dob in his friend, until he added, ‘What gets said on the fishing trip stays on the fishing trip.’ He laughed, for a long time. Then he added, ‘He was trying to teach me not to drink. He’s a recovering alcoholic—and drugs, when he was a teenager, not now—and he wouldn’t go to a bar normally, but he says there’s no pressure at The Library. Even when someone’s buying a round, you input your own choice of drink and they can only see the price. That was one of the first changes I made to the app.’

  ‘Interesting that we say recovering alcoholic rather than person recovering from alcoholism. As though it’s intrinsic to who he is. Like—’

  ‘He’s also gay. Tazza—that’s his partner—is gay, obviously, and autistic. He says it’s easier to pretend you’re straight than NT—neurotypical. Because autism gets into everything.’

  Hudson had fortuitously introduced the critical subject, but he changed it before I could think of a way of making a connection to his own situation.

  ‘What’s happening next term? About the pigeon? Anything?’

  ‘They want you to see a psychologist.’

  ‘To see if I killed it? Could I take a lie-detector test?’

  ‘It’s more complicated.’

  ‘They think I’m autistic. And they want me to have an aide. Right?’

  ‘Correct.’ Rosie and I had not prepared a reply for this question but there was no choice unless I lied. ‘They think it’s possible. But they’re not experts,’ I said.

  ‘If I see a psychologist, are they going to tell the school what I say?’

  ‘I don’t think so. But the intention is to communicate to the school whether or not you’re autistic. Or have some other condition that would justify an aide.’

  ‘What if I don’t see a psychologist?’

  ‘They say they won’t accept you into the senior school. I think the state system is required to take you unless you’re a psychopath. Which they might think if they accept the bird story. So, what do you want to do?’

  ‘It’s totally unfair.’ It was obvious Hudson was angry. ‘If the psychologist says I’m autistic and I get an aide, everyone will know.’

  ‘Life isn’t fair,’ said Dave. ‘I got born with the gene for loving food. And no gene for having kids.’

  ‘You’ve got two kids.’

  ‘Thanks to science. People like your dad. And if you’re talking about fairness, he basically got fired for doing his job properly.’

  At Hudson’s request, I told the full story of the Genetics Lecture Outrage, including my concern that I had added to the daily burden of students who experienced discrimination.

  ‘Mr Warren does that. I don’t think he’s actually mean, just…’

  ‘Insensitive,’ I said. ‘Lack of empathy for people different from him. Few people are mean on purpose.’

  ‘But you’re not a racist?’

  ‘Who said he was?’ said Dave.

  ‘Just some kid at school. It was in the paper, right?’

  ‘Check out his business partners,’ said Dave. ‘Would you go into business with people you thought were inferior?’ He laughed. ‘Maybe don’t answer that. But we can all work on the empathy-and-kindness thing.’

  ‘You should get a lawyer,’ said Hudson to me.

  ‘You should get a lawyer for the bird problem,’ said Dave to Hudson. ‘Maybe that’s what you’ll end up being. A lawyer. You’re a smart guy
and a good talker.’

  Apparently Dave wasn’t satisfied with leading my son into business.

  ‘The ability to argue logically is valuable in numerous disciplines,’ I said, ‘including science and information technology.’

  We drove home via second-hand bookshops and, again, Shepparton to return the fishing equipment and eat another salad featuring beetroot, pineapple and asparagus, this time with luncheon sausage.

  ‘You learned to catch fish, clean fish and operate a barbecue,’ I said to Hudson as we approached Melbourne. ‘And to eat un-crumbed fish and a variety of other unfamiliar foods. Excellent result.’

  I had only one issue to finalise before I could report complete success to Rosie.

  ‘Have you considered the possibility of seeing a psychologist? It’s optional, but you understand the consequences of not doing so.’

  ‘I don’t want to see a psychologist. Not to be assessed for autism.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’ve got this.’

  37

  On the first day of the new term, having spent the majority of the official school holidays in his room or visiting Carl, Eugenie and Phil, Hudson appeared for breakfast looking different. He had had a haircut a few days earlier, but there was something else. It took me a few moments to realise that he was wearing long trousers rather than shorts. With socks.

  ‘You have new trousers for a single term?’ I said. ‘Part of the term will be in summer, when I presume you’ll revert to shorts.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Hudson. ‘I bought them myself. With my own money. I might wear them even when it gets hot. Like adults do.’

  ‘Some adults,’ I said. I wore shorts in hot weather, regardless of season.

  ‘We’ll pay for them,’ said Rosie. ‘I’m amazed the length is exactly right.’

  ‘I got a bigger size and Carl got them taken in. That’s what you do when you’re tall and thin.’

  I remembered Carl’s advice and checked Hudson’s tie. It was slightly loose at the collar, as recommended.

  Then he slung his backpack over one shoulder and headed for the tram stop.

  That evening I had a phone call from Rabbit, which was surprising, as he was no longer Hudson’s teacher.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to thank you for being so…understanding…about the nickname,’ he said. ‘But that’s not why I got in touch. There’s a girl in Hudson’s class who’s had a rough holiday break. She’s feeling guilty about something she’s done, but she’s dug herself a hole and she can’t see her way out of it. I’ve pointed her to the student counsellor.’

  It seemed odd that Rabbit would seek my advice on a teaching problem. I told him so.

  ‘Mate, I can’t say any more. Tell your wife exactly what I said. You want me to say it again?’

  I told Rosie. She didn’t even need the reference to Hudson’s betrayer not being able to see her way out.

  I persuaded Rosie that we should defer telling Hudson about Blanche’s betrayal. Rabbit had spoken to me in confidence, and probably at risk to himself, and it appeared that Blanche was regretting her action. There was no change in the status with the principal, who already knew the identity of the informant. It was hard to see how anyone’s life would be improved by sharing the information.

  As the term proceeded, it became clear that Hudson had made changes to his routine. He attended the bar only once a week; Merlin and Tazza were always there on that day. They appeared to have a genuinely friendly relationship with an eleven-year-old. I guessed that if the conversation was restricted to apps development and science fiction, Hudson could contribute as an approximate equal.

  I was required to conduct multiple inspections of homes of other students with whom he had become friendly. Rosie noted that the white shirts that she was washing were not the standard school-uniform-shop variety, but higher-quality branded men’s shirts. ‘Carl,’ she said.

  It was hard to judge whether Hudson was happier. At the bar, he seemed to be enjoying himself. When other children came home with him, they spent most of their time doing homework or reading. But neither Rosie nor I was able to observe him during the most critical part of his day—at school.

  ‘He doesn’t seem to be doing any worse,’ said Rosie. ‘Maybe we need to let him chart his own path for a while rather than trying to guide him.’

  Approaching the middle of the term, Rosie and I had an emotional (on her side) discussion regarding which of us should accompany Hudson to the school sex-education night.

  ‘I’m a doctor,’ said Rosie.

  ‘I’m a geneticist, with more experience in reproductive biology than you.’

  ‘In mice.’

  ‘I also participated in the delivery of a calf.’ This was during Rosie’s pregnancy, when I was acquiring expertise in case of an emergency. That expertise was employed to instruct a medical student in preventing a foetal death, specifically that of Dave and Sonia’s daughter, Zina. I pointed that out.

  Rosie pointed out that she was the medical student involved in the ‘hands-on’ role. I pointed out that the sex-education night was likely to be theory-oriented rather than hands-on.

  I noted that I had initiated Hudson’s sex education with the animal-mating video. Rosie pointed out that it had resulted in us being summoned to the principal’s office.

  ‘Don, I’m just a bit freaked out that it might turn out like—what do you call it—the Antenatal Uproar. You lecturing on breastfeeding or whatever the equivalent is. Kids having sex or something.’

  ‘Obviously—’

  ‘Look, the argument’s fifty–fifty. So, let me go.’

  ‘The notice said the school recommends a parent of the same gender.’

  ‘Okay, we both go.’

  ‘That gives Hudson no one to complain to in the event of a joint disaster. Which is your recommended tactic for difficult interactions. Also, one of us should go to the bar.’

  ‘Right. You do know I have a day job?’

  ‘Attending the sex-education night is also a job. We should let Hudson choose.’

  ‘Okay, okay. I know what he’ll want. But try to avoid saying anything. Nothing, nothing that would suggest underage kids having sex. No matter how much it happened in the…ancestral environment.’

  ‘You’re being controlling. That’s not supposed to be desirable behaviour.’

  ‘I’m probably suffering post-traumatic stress from that antenatal thing. We almost split up over it, remember?’

  ‘Obviously. I’ll attempt to remain inconspicuous and not mention child sex.’

  Inconspicuousness should have been easy. There were approximately fifty parent–child pairs, presumably representing most of the students from Year Six. Hudson went to talk to Nadia.

  Adults and children were milling around, and I was approached by a woman of about thirty, estimated BMI twenty-four, who introduced herself as Melanie Waddington.

  ‘I saw you come in with Hudson. I was hoping I might catch you. I’m his new teacher.’

  ‘I’m his father.’

  ‘I guessed. I wanted you to know that Hudson’s doing really well. When he joined the class, I was told he probably had mild autism—I gather you’ve had discussions about that—and we have another boy, Dov…Anyway, we had a little screen set up to give him some space and Hudson joined him behind that, but, you know, I think he may have been doing it just to be kind and friendly.’

  ‘You don’t consider Hudson autistic?’

  ‘I’ve only seen him for a few weeks, but he’s not what I expected from talking to Neil Warren. He does get a bit excited when he’s talking sometimes, but he stops himself. I can see him doing it. I get the sense he’s using the change of class to make a fresh start.’

  I saw Rabbit Warren as he entered the hall and intercepted him for an update on the Pigeon Betrayal. I was still hoping that some evidence that Hudson had not killed the bird would emerge. Rabbit had no further news but told me I had saved h
im a phone call on another topic.

  ‘Always better to talk face to face,’ he said.

  On the contrary, face-to-face communication was likely not to be better if it required long-distance travel for a minor matter or if one or both parties was potentially violent. I could have cited numerous other examples, but I let Rabbit continue.

  ‘I still take Hudson for sport, and I have to say, besides the surprise at the swimming carnival, there’s been no great improvement. But Green House has elected him captain for the cross-country race.’

  ‘Athletics?’

  ‘We had that in first term. If I remember rightly, Hudson took the day off sick. This is a one-off event. We try to get all the kids to participate and each house votes for a captain. Hudson put himself forward and the kids chose him.’

  ‘Excellent news. Clearly an indication of improved social standing. Thank you for telling me.’

  ‘Well, to be honest, I’m not so sure. Have you seen him run?’

  Hudson’s running style was unconventional, with his hands clasped behind his back. Now that Rabbit mentioned it, I realised that it was likely to attract negative attention and should have been on my original list of capabilities.

  ‘You’re worried he may not contribute effectively? Surely that’s unimportant at primary level.’

  ‘I’m worried they’ve picked him as a joke. To make fun of him.’

  Hudson and I sat together a few rows from the front. Allannah arrived and took the seat next to me, with Blanche on the other side.

  The sex-education seminar was delivered by two specialist external teachers, one male and one female, with excellent visual aids. There were some simplifications, but they were probably necessary for a primary-school audience. Much of the material addressed physical development and respect for other students regardless of their gender or sexual orientation.

  ‘Now this is an important question. At what age is it possible to become pregnant? Any doctors here?’

  Somebody pointed to the person beside them and she said, ‘I’m a maxillofacial surgeon. I think that’s one for a reproductive-medicine person.’