Deceit and Talent   

“I ‘ve been thinking.”  

Mum said her knife and fork poised, tips down on her white ornamented dinner plate among the  

partly eaten roast chicken and vegetables. The roast had been a welcome home surprise for me, on my first visit home from hospital.  

My Dad looks up inquiringly at first but continues to put the loaded fork into his mouth as his eyes meet Mum’s.  

“I think we should widen the doorways that Robby will use every day. The doctors said it would be months before he can walk again. I mean we can’t go on manhandling him in and out of this collapsible wheelchair every time he needs to go to the bathroom or toilet, can we? Mum says turning her head to include Josh my elder brother and I in the conversation.  

“No, we can’t.” 

Dad says reflectively putting down his knife and fork and letting his arms come to rest on either side of the plate on the varnished tabletop as he shifts in his seat.  

As if by unspoken agreement all three faces turn to me, seeing me in the shiny chrome wheelchair that is awkwardly pushed against the dining table. Sensing the conversation has stopped dead I stop eating, holding my cutlery mid-air elbows out. 

“What?” I murmur lifting my fringed blond hair upward to take the room in with my light blue twelve-year-old eyes. 

“It's not my fault I was knocked off my bike going to school! And ended up in this thing!”  

 I say indicating my wheelchair.  

“I know, no one said it was.” Dad says almost softly,  pausing before continuing.  

“Mum thinks we should widen the doorways to help you move around the house.”  

“Oh." I reply reaching down to massage my right leg under the table where the trimmed leather edge had started to dig into the underside of my thighs.  

“And he needs a new more comfortable wheelchair, one that he can move around in more easily.”   

Mum says looking at me as a smile spreads across her thirty something features.  

With a damaged ankle and various fractures to the other leg it seems sensible. But Dad puts into words what I am really thinking.  

“Yes, but where are we going to get that sort of money?” Dad asks us rhetorically.  

“Ah but wait.” Dad says with a theatrical grin.  

“Don’t tell me Wallet Wizard?” he holds the smile playing to his captive audience. 

I start to laugh too but cut it short when I see my brother’s face harden and his hands spread out on the tabletop either side of his plate as he looks down. At fifteen he takes himself seriously in almost every way. I guess he didn’t like the joke, but there is something on his mind.  

“We have just spent thirty-five thousand on replacing the iron on the roof, then there are the gap fees for the hospital treatments.” Says Dad accenting the last few syllables with slowness.  

“Sorry son.” Dad says looking back towards me.  

“I didn’t mean to sound mean spirited.”  

“It’s Ok Dad, maybe the Police will catch the person who drove off, all they need is a witness who saw it.” I reply methodically loading my fork, to hide my embarrassment because my voice chooses to break midsentence.  

“Damn careless Adelaide drivers.” I think for what must have be the hundredth time since the accident.  

“May be.” grunts Dad unconvinced. 

Josh throws a look in my direction, squaring his shoulders as he reaches some sort of inner decision. There is that look, he has something on his mind. I know that look. Tipping my head to one side quizzically I wonder what it is.  

“Look, I have ...” Josh stops himself shifting his blue-eyed gaze to Mum. It’s then I see his lips appear to tremble apart soundlessly. I turn my head. 

Mum appears to nod imperceptibly.  

“I ‘ve some shares, I ‘ve been share trading--- without telling you Dad.” Josh states factually his voice trailing off as his face angles slowly down having uttered the words he can never retract. 

“I am sorry Dad, ---- I had to try out what Grandad taught me, for myself ---you know"? Josh says plucking irritably at his right blue school shirt sleeve. Finishing with the shirt he forces both his hands into his lap to stop himself from fidgeting under Dad’s gaze. Taking one quick look up at Dad he immediately looks down again waiting for the reaction he knows will come.  

“You’ve been doing what? “Dad bellows angrily pushing back his chair so that the four legs screeched on the wooden floorboards in protest.  

“Share trading.”  

Josh says rather flatly his fifteen-year-old frame stiffening in his chair.  

“Son that money was given to you by your grandfather, and it certainly wasn't for wasting on some get rich quick scheme.” Dad protests standing up then walking back to the table displaying his full height as he looks down past Josh’s regulation school haircut of his blond hair to the determined white face with its set of blue eyes. 

“But it's all worked out Dad, you don’t have to worry! "Josh puts in quickly stealing a sideways look at us. 

“We spoke about that when we agreed to your continuing the use of the portfolio you were given access to by Grandad.” 

“It’s not like that!” Josh shouts angrily at Dad raising his hands involuntarily pushing back.  

“Oh? Exactly what is it like then? “Dad asks, a sneer evident in his voice as he places his fingertips on the tabletop either side of his plate while he leans forward with disciplinary measures in mind. 

Josh draws on some inner strength by lifting his head to reveal red flushed cheeks hung from a pale face set with determination. Head raised he begins his defence. 

“Well for starters, ----I turned five thousand dollars into seven hundred thousand odd shares that I bought at seven tenths of a cent, and they have risen to fifteen cents now and are worth over--- “ 

Joshes voice falters “A hundred and five thousand dollars.” Josh finishes, his voice trailing off as he eyes Dad’s shocked face.  

There is no denying the pride in Josh’s voice. The shock of what he has just said creates a stunned silence.  

My head spontaneously thrusts forward opening as my mouth then triggering my right hand to cover my mouth. 

Its Dad who speaks first. 

“Suppose you had lost the lot? Dad says  

“Anyway, what sort of shares rise like that?” Dad asks, disbelief then incredulity written across his sunburnt face where wave-like wrinkles of concern stand out on his forehead overridden by his forelock of brown hair. 

That’s more than I make in a year!” Dad whispers under his breath his eyes steady but bright. 

“Is it really true son?” he continues softly. 

“Yes” Josh replies ever so reverently. 

“Of course, I must pay tax on that, but I have had them longer than a year so it shouldn’t be that bad! “Josh explains hastily throwing a look at Mum for reassurance, hinting at collusion, I sense.  

“And I am technically a student so shouldn't pay tax---- if I am right”. Josh mumbles.  

“A year.” Dad repeats.” You deceived me for a whole year?” 

“I guess so”. Josh murmured eyes still down. 

Mum’s cutlery touches down on her plate in anticipation of trouble ahead with a scraping sound. 

Dads turns his head towards the sound. 

“You knew! Dad says unexpectedly lifting his right hand and shaking an accusing finger at Mum.  

“Yes, I knew .” Mum replies casting her eyes down in admission.  

“But-” Mum says throwing her head up so she can look Dad in the eye.  

“But the shares seem to make money almost every time we looked at them. Josh wasn’t getting much interest from the bank, so I went along with it.” Mum says flatly.  

“Besides, they teach the kids about these things at school now. Don’t they?” Mum asks eyeing Josh who nods his agreement. 

“Some of the other kids -.” Josh begins warily but stops on seeing Dad’s expression change. 

Dad has gone silent his eyes resting on Mum while his lips are pursed together.  

You could have told me!” Dad says angrily exhaling through his nostrils, breaking our parents locked gaze as he does so.  

“Any way." Josh cuts in bravely drawing attention away from Mum.  

“It’s my money to spend and I want to spend it on fixing the doors up and getting a decent  

 wheelchair for Robby.”  

Dad keeps quiet for what seems like a long time. 

The peace maker in mum swells to overflowing as she goes on to say in soothing tones. 

“That’s unusually noble of you Josh and yes, it is your money Josh, and I doubt if any institution is going to loan us money after we borrowed on top of the mortgage to fix the roof. Suppose we call it a loan and draw up an agreement between you, me, and Dad to repay it?”  

“I can get some overtime at work to help.” Volunteers Mum, her face creasing into a smile disarming the tension in the room as she seizes the chance to lighten the mood. 

“Perhaps there's a grant we can apply for, so Josh won’t have to sell all his shares. Mum says glancing quickly at Josh who smiles fleetingly at the thought. 

Dad appears to brighten at the prospect. He retrieves his chair and sits down throwing just one look at Josh as he silently shakes his head before picking up his knife and fork.  

“Just what did you invest in that made you so much money son?” Dad asks his interest in shares sparked as he considers how extraordinary his son is, to have taken not only the share market risk but to have knowingly risked his own anger if he found out. Grudgingly he concedes the boy is very bright and perhaps he should have taken more notice of him growing up.  

“Wine and Beverages.” replies Josh visibly relaxing knowing he has passed the worst of it.  

I invested in a company that was just starting out called “Digital Wine Ventures.” 

“I should have guessed alcohol would be involved. At least you weren’t drinking it I suppose” Dad drawls his eyebrows riding higher as he shifts back in his seat. 

“No Dad, it’s not just alcohol. It’s a genuine digital disruption to the way it is thought about, ordered, stored, invoiced and even distributed around the whole of Australia. 

There's a thirty five percent saving in it for the wineries, kind of an incentive. It's what convinced me Dad.” 

Josh leans forward and begins to tell my father all about it in earnest, to the point that Dad lets his dinner get cold.  

Mum and I exchange glances. 

“You will have to show me on your computer.” Dad says soberly picking up the cutlery on his plate. 

“It's not gambling if you do your research first.” Josh states lifting his blue eyes to see his father’s newfound respect, being paid to him. 

“Josh, can you teach me about shares and stuff? I pipe up looking hopefully towards them both. 

“Sure, when you a little older!” Josh throws back, his attention drawn immediately back to Dad. 

“Cool”.  

“Come on Robby.” Mum says releasing the brake then wheeling me back into the lounge to watch TV. As she does so she throws one last look into the dining room before ruffling my hair.  

“Welcome home Robby! She says pulling back the sliding doors for us to continue into the lounge. 

“Josh is smart, isn't he? I mean making all that money and not telling anyone except you, mum.” I say seeking confirmation. 

“Why yes, and you are too in your own way kiddo!” Mum says sinking down to my armchair level.  

“You don't miss much do you, and yes I am glad it's finally out in the open at last. She winks one eye just once leaving me smiling. 

***  

“Ellen Rowntree?” Mum says as she pushes open the French doors and takes the phone call on the front lawn away from the noise made by the circular saw. It’s taken a fortnight to organise, but the builder had come and started on the doorways, creating dust, then progress while lifting the spirits of everyone in our home.  

“Robby? “Mum calls stepping back into the carpeted confusion of tools, wood, and plaster bits.  

“Coming!” I call back swinging the wheelchair around with practiced hands over a piece of discarded plaster board on the lounge carpet.  

“Good news! The lawyers have had a reply from a lady whose husband saw the whole accident but couldn’t stop because they were having a baby and had to drive straight to the hospital. She says she has it on their dash cam and will give it to the lawyers!  

The lawyers think they can win the case, so everything will be ok, and Josh can have his money back sooner than he expected, I think. “  

 Mum runs her fingers though my hair and then squeezes my hand as it rests on the arm of the wheelchair. 

“I must ring your father right away." She says opening the French doors to the lawn again, mobile in hand. 

“What would we have done without your brother and the Digital wine shares?”  

Mum pauses as she asks me, her head is tilted to one side in thought. 

“I don’t know Mum, but it’s our family’s love and Josh’s money that will get us through this.” I reply acknowledging to myself that it will take a while to accumulate my brother’s courage and knowledge of shares, but I will have plenty of time to study both while I am stuck in this nicely padded new wheelchair. 

**************  

Copyright to  

Barefoot manuscripts.  

Adelaide. 

DanielLees278@yahoo.com 

2322WC