Читать книгу Auditions for Love.Com - Oliver Cross - Страница 4

"Only time can heal your broken heart, just as only time can heal his broken arms and legs." ~ Miss Piggy

Two officers escorted me to my father’s funeral in full military dress which gave me the strength I needed on the day and was an act of brotherhood I will never forget. I was granted three days leave from the army diver’s course to mourn with family. Any longer and I would lose too much time on course and have to try again in a year’s time. I knew dad would not have wanted that. What made these three days so much more difficult for me to register was that I received a text message from Belinda on the day after the funeral, with those words that bring your whole fast paced life to a screaming halt, “Oliver, I’m pregnant”.

Following my initial six months of Army training, I was posted to the 1^st Combat Engineer Regiment, 1^st Battalion at Robertson Barracks on January three of 2001. January in Darwin is the wet season, blisteringly hot, steamy and grossly uncomfortable in full camouflage gear and boots, my daily dress code. The top end of Australia does not experience four seasons, it has two, wet and dry but always hot. The cab ride from the airport to the barracks was a little under thirty minutes which gave my driver plenty of time to educate me on crocodiles, box jelly fish and the Inland Taipan or the Fierce Snake, three of the deadliest creatures on earth and all native to my new environment, brilliant. My first impressions of Darwin though were a shock to me. I had envisaged Darwin as the outback, dry, dusty red earth and rather backward. I was delightfully surprised to find it tropical, lush green and well, still pretty damn backward.

My taxi pulled up outside my regimental headquarters where I was to report for further instructions. I could not believe how laid back all the soldiers were. I had just come from six months of intensive military training institutions, or hell, where not a moment of your life is spent without fear, purpose and rigidity. As I walked into the impressive building I was greeted by the duty officer. I snapped my heels together and whipped my hand up to salute, as I had been instructed when encountering an officer. He burst into laughter with all the other soldiers.

“Mate, it’s Saturday, you’re not at army school anymore, relax kid”, the duty officer quipped. “Look, we weren’t expecting you until Monday, so here’s your building and room number”. “Now fuck off, go get a cold one into you and don’t come back until 0530 hours Monday”.

With that initial experience I made my way to the soldier’s living quarters. My building was the closest to the mess hall which is where meals were served. As it was early January most of the soldiers were on home leave so the barracks was eerily deserted, although I could hear some strange and faint noises coming from my new apartment. The apartments were shared between four soldiers. As I entered, I encountered one of the most awkward scenarios I had ever experienced. About ten soldiers were all sitting around the main television in the living room watching a pornographic movie, fully dressed and in relative silence. My presence only diverted their attention for a moment. If anything, the army teaches you to adapt and overcome, so with that, I dropped my bags in my new modest room and joined the lads for some X rated viewing. In my five years of service I never found comfort in this practice, but it seemed a right of passage. Who was I to argue with the norm?

The sacrifice and nature of the profession meant that you were away from your place of residence more often than not. Some years we operated away for up to nine months at a time. As you can imagine, such a prolonged absence meant that it was rather difficult to hold down a relationship. Many of my friends would receive letters from their girlfriends while we were away with details that they had met someone else, and it was over. These are known as “Dear John” letters. This happened to me twice and as you can imagine it’s quite a bitter experience when you are out, working for your country and your girlfriend is back at home in bed with another bloke. It’s hard to blame them really. Such long periods apart would challenge many a relationship, especially, when they are so young, always out partying and trying to manage their teenage libido. After much disappointment, I reconciled with this dilemma and decided that due to the nature of my occupation, it was not conducive for a relationship for me. My trust in women had been eroded so I focused my attention to a more suitable arrangement which enabled me to regain and retain my "mojo" in the equation, casual relationships.

Wow, did this work for me online! While good talent in Darwin was few and far between, I was busy on ICQ trying to exploit the few opportunities where others had thought not explore. I pitched that I was a young fit soldier, home for short periods, in need of a casual playmate to assist me in catching up on lost time. I began chatting to a twenty year old girl named Belinda. This time, I was sure to ask for a few photos and have a phone conversation prior to ensure she wasn’t a crazy. My socks almost blew off my feet. She was pretty and petite with a gifted ability to flirt. She suggested we meet up on a local beach for a walk. I remember getting out of my car and seeing her for the first time. I could not believe my eyes, she was stunning. After five minutes I ascertained that she was an undiagnosed nymphomaniac. She wasted no time in telling me she had been using the site for years to meet random men for pleasure. She reasoned that she enjoyed chatting online and sex, so the two worked well together for her. Within thirty minutes we had found ourselves a quiet shady spot in between some of the sand dunes and swiftly and passionately, began undressing each other. We must have been in there for over two hours without break. We clambered out exhausted and dehydrated, enjoying the sun setting over the sea, a beautiful sight in Darwin. It was raw, animalistic and self indulgent. But as we sat there afterwards, watching the sun dance off the sea, I felt liberated, alive and euphoric.

I started seeing Belinda a few times a week whenever I was back on base and she would always say that I would get the most of her time. I was always so curious to know how many guys she was sleeping with during any given week but she deflected most of my curiosity. In relationships, I had always felt a sense of jealousy. With Belinda though, I found I was not jealous at all. I did not care who she was with when not with me. It was not an emotional arrangement, but purely physical and convenient. I was shocked one afternoon, when after a few months of our casual affair, Belinda said she was dating too many guys at once and suggested I start meeting with one of her friends to balance out her time. I think this must be every teenage boy’s dream, and then their morning alarm interrupts the fantasy. Thankfully for me, this was happening! As Belinda was leaving my barracks room the next morning, she wrote down her friends details on my note pad and said she was expecting my call, I gasped.

Those shenanigans would have to wait, however, as I had been selected for the Army Diver course which is recognised as one of the toughest military courses outside of the Special Forces. The course was based at H.M.A.S Penguin in Mosman, Sydney. This worked out perfectly for me as my family were in the Blue Mountains, a short two hour train ride west. The physicality of the course, while challenging was never a deterrent for me. I loved being around highly self-motivated professionals. I was travelling home so often because my father had been ill with a kidney disease which meant he was on dialysis for over eight hours a day to transfuse the fluids in his body. I recall one Friday afternoon receiving a call from my uncle insisting I visit again over the weekend. Little did I know, but dad had already died. Losing a parent when you’re young is difficult to process. I was lucky in a sense that the military had become a family of supportive brothers. When I needed them most, they were always there.

Dad’s things which meant nothing previously now carried an overwhelming sense of emotion and memory for me. Silly things, like his torn slippers, his embarrassing shirts, and his handkerchiefs all became so endearing, significant and valuable. When you have lost someone you love, these are the tangible possessions you can touch, hold and smell which help you to remember the detail about a person which painfully diminishes too quickly upon their passing. The process of grieving combined with the unwanted news from Belinda’s pregnancy was a surreal and numbing experience.

Upon my return to base I threw myself into the course once more. I sincerely think it was the perfect distraction for me at the time as it kept my mind active and my spirits up. As I had missed three days of diving, my sergeant instructed me to report to the jetty at 2100 hours to conduct a ninety minute night dive to increase my hours underwater due to my recent absence. The course is focused around underwater search, rescue, construction and demolitions. My objective for the dive was clear, I was to descend ten meters and commence an underwater construction task. I suited up and had my helmet fitted. Due to the duration, I was not fitted with cylinders but an umbilical cable which attached to my helmet. This carried my oxygen from the surface down to me. This is why trust and procedures are imperative elements to a soldier’s routine. As I launched into the water my body reacted to the icy temperature, with my breath constricted of air momentarily. The August water took the wind out of me as I rapidly descended under the weight of my suit. Diving at night in clear water is similar in a sense to walking at night. It’s not pitch black under there, but ambient light allows you to visualise your surroundings.

When my boots hit the sea bed I remember lurching slowly toward my task and sitting down. It was the first time I had been alone since dad passed. I had not cried throughout the previous three days, but in that moment when I was alone, when time appeared to stop and I was allowed a moment to ponder everything that had so quickly transpired, I cried. I wept in fact, knowing that no one could hear or see me. It was the time I needed to reconcile the death of my father and my pending responsibility to a woman I didn’t love.

In the ensuing days, the news from Belinda was that she wanted an abortion and wanted me to pay for it. Her decision was an overwhelming relief for me and nineteen. I forwarded her the money, as I was still in Sydney on course. From that moment she completely blocked me out of her life. That was the last I ever spoke with her. Over four years later when I was wrapping up my service with the Australian Defence Force, I met a girl at a friend’s party and we got chatting. After an hour and a few drinks we discovered that we both knew of each other through Belinda. This was the other girl Belinda had tried to hook me up with before I left for the dive course. I felt the guilt of what happened encapsulate me. I had locked the memory away and considered it erased from history. Her response nearly threw me backwards off my chair, “Oh my God Oli, Belinda was never pregnant”. “She just needed some quick cash so she played a few guys”. My relief was immediate. I felt no anger, as I already knew she was not an honest person from the short period of time I shared with her. More than anything, I felt relieved that it was all a fabrication. I hope to never endure another week of raw emotional torture like that again. The death of a parent, the physical exhaustion of the army dive course, and an unwanted pregnancy with a woman you would not want as the mother of your children. Consequently, I felt somewhat bitten by the internet dating beast, and thought it best left alone, for the time being anyway.