Bonds

A water drop formed at the end of a pipe and glinted brightly in the hot afternoon sun. The face of a man grew larger in the reflection until the lines around his eyes and the wariness of his expression became clear. John looked into the drop intently as it grew, slowly elongating, before falling in an instant.

He turned his head at a distant sound, a low rumble. He peered out at the wide, flat landscape, the red of the earth offset by the deep blue cloudless sky. Beyond the heat shimmer, far off in the distance, dust was being kicked up; an aberration on serenity.

John squinted. He wiped his brow of sweat and dirt and let some moisture build up between the grit in his mouth. 'Looks like company, Sam,' he said to his companion, in a slightly exaggerated Australian accent.

He scratched his bushy beard thoughtfully. 'This can't be good.' He said this to himself but his companion offered a quiet bark of understanding.

John looked toward the house which seemed tiny in its wide surroundings. The white paint was faded and peeling after too many hot summers, exposing the wooden structure beneath like open wounds.

Knowing he had plenty of time, and not needing any, he casually made his way past a mob of emus, held in by a makeshift wire fence, and walked by a lopsided Hills Hoist to a screen door. He walked through, ignoring the drawn-out squeak it made, and waited.

With the sounds of Sam barking, John opened the door to two tired men. The man on the left was sweating under a thick suit and sunglasses. The man on the right wore a bright orange top and a large Akubra hat. John peered at the suited man, narrowing his eyes, while the other man spoke.

'Sir, I am Linus from the Royal Swedish Academy of Sci...'

'No, thank you,' said John, cutting him off and closing the door abruptly.

The two men looked at each other.

The suited man played with the tiny chunk of hair below his lip and then knocked hard on the door. 'Let us in, John,' he shouted.

A moment later the door opened. The two men were given the sight of a quickly vanishing John.

They found him picking his finger nails at a small dining table in the kitchen. He stared blankly into a half-finished glass of vodka.

Entering last, Linus stood stiffly and said, 'Sir, let me say it is an honour to finally meet you. To be honest, I have had a little crush on you for a long time, professionally speaking of course. What you have done, what you have achieved, I just can not believe I am in the same room as... '

'Get rid of those,' said John curtly, without looking up.

'Sir?' said Linus.

John looked up at the suited man. 'Get rid of your sunglasses, Richard. We're inside. It makes you look stupid.'

Richard paused. He waited long enough to show he wouldn't just do anything he was told to, before removing his sunglasses slowly.

Linus followed suit by taking off his hat. He looked down with an expression of embarrassment and respect.

'What do you want?' demanded John. 'I'm a busy man.'

'I can see,' said Richard, watching John idly chew his fingernails. 'This is important, John.'

'Of course it's important,' said John. 'It's always important. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't important.'

'John...' pleaded Richard.

'Stop calling me that!' said John.

'All right,' said Richard. 'But it's been three years. You didn't respond to any of my messages. At least hear me out.'

John took a break from his fingernails and sat back, showing a slight hint of compassion.

Richard's lips curled up. 'You've got it,' he said. 'The prize!'

'I've got a whole chunk of prizes,' said John.

'Not like this. The prize.'

'Don't want it,' said John.

Linus turned his head sharply, his wide eyes focussing on Richard. Turning back to John, he said: 'Err, Mr Starkovich, with all due respect, perhaps you do not know which prize we are referring to.'

'I know it. Don't want it.'

'Why?' said Richard, slowly.

John waved his hand vaguely in the air. 'Because...'

Richard waited for an end to the sentence, but it had none. 'Because...?'

'Just because,' said John.

'But there must be a reason,' said Richard. 'You spoke about this for as long as I can remember. It's what every physicist strives for.'

'No!' said John forcefully. He leant forward. 'Every real physicist strives for the betterment of understanding. Every real physicist wants to learn, wants to know. We ask questions; and we do our damned best to answer those questions. We don't do it so that some administrator can pat us on the back like a mutt and say "Good boy, here's a biscuit." '

Richard suppressed his anger. It wasn't personal, it's just what he did. He liked to play with you, put you off your game. You need to focus on why you're here.

'But why not do both?' said Richard, straightening his jacket suit. 'You can learn. You can ask questions. You can help civilisation all you want...'

'And you certainly have,' interrupted Linus.

'But why not get the biscuit as well?' said Richard.

'No, thanks,' said John, standing up. 'So if that's all you gentlemen were here for...'

'Uh, sir,' said Linus, 'would it be possible to get a beverage before leaving? It is very hot.'

John breathed in and out loudly before relenting. He shuffled over to a large ceramic pot in the corner of the room and removed a damp cloth from the top.

'Sir, is that a Zeer pot?' said Linus, rushing over with enthusiasm.

'It is,' said John.

'I've never seen them before,' said Linus. 'Only hearing of them.'

'Oh,' said John. 'I put it together a few months ago. No electricity when you're in the dead centre of nowhere.'

'How ironic,' said Linus.

John allowed Linus a peek inside, showing the pot within the pot, with dirt sandwiched between. Inside the inner pot sat two bottles of water and two pears.

Richard sat down at the table, uninterested.

'How cold is it inside?' asked Linus.

'Doesn't keep things as cold as a fridge, of course, but out here even mildly cool water during the middle of a scorcher is a godsend.'

Richard narrowed his eyes at the last word.

'Mmm, I am sure,' said Linus. 'It works by evaporative cooling, correct?'

John nodded enthusiastically, a smile forming on his face. 'Yeah, kind of like sweat,' he said. Becoming more animated, he picked up a bottle and poured some water on the dirt. 'As the water evaporates, it cools whatever's adjacent to it. Which in this case is the pot and its contents.'

John plonked two glasses onto the table.

'You certainly like using water for energy,' said Linus.

John poured the water slowly, watching it sparkle from the light streaming through the window. 'Water is life,' he said, passing one glass to Linus. He looked over at Richard, then down at the second glass. 'It's the most precious thing...'

Richard watched John's expression become serious, sombre and downcast, with eyes looking out toward nothing and everything all at once. To Richard, John's body appeared to become smaller, less threatening and more vulnerable. He noticed the thick lines around John's face and wondered why he hadn't noticed them before. It was almost like he was looking at a different person, an old man.

Richard opened his mouth and spoke, so quiet it was barely audible. He uttered a single word, with no emotion save a tinge of bitterness he could not conceal: 'Budmo.'

'Hey,' cheered John automatically, taking a swig of vodka mechanically.

Richard said it again, a little louder. 'Budmo.'

'Hey!' cheered John, then stopped. He seemed to grow in size as he looked over at Richard, eyes hard. 'This is no celebration. There is no joy, no happiness.'

'I think I know why you wont accept, now,' said Richard, boldly.

'No Richard,' said John. 'You don't.'

'Is that why you've run away from everything?'

'No.'

Richard continued, softer in tone. 'You need to move on.'

'Don't do this,' said John.

'She would have wanted you to accept,' said Richard.

John stood up abruptly. 'Don't...!' he said, stopping short. He spoke with gritted teeth: 'Linus, mate, have you ever seen emu's in the flesh?'

Linus took a quick look out the window before nodding in understanding. 'Ah, my little girls will be jealous,' he said. 'Excuse me.'

John watched Linus leave before leaning over Richard. 'I know I haven't shown you much hospitality so far,' said John, 'but let this be clear: if you ever, ever, say anything like that again, you'll be out on your arse faster than a rabbit's donger.'

Shaken and scared, Richard nodded.

'Use your mouth, boy!' said John.

'Yes, sir,' said Richard, meekly.

John leant back. His expression changed, becoming confused, like he no longer recognised Richard. He sat back down and finished off his vodka.

Richard plucked up the courage to speak. 'We needed to do that before,' he said. 'Talk about things. We could have dealt with all this together.'

'You don't deal with something like that,' said John. 'It's not something that just goes away. It lingers, like a mist. Always there, reminding you.'

'Trapped, no way out,' said Richard, dreamily. 'I hurt too, you know.'

John stood to leave the room. 'I'm not having this conversation. You shouldn't have come.'

Richard's sunglasses sat on a ledge. His head was buried in the top of a rusted drum. He rose and rubbed his wet face, water dripping abundantly.

Richard looked down into the water, examining his reflection. His eyes were a little red and some stubble was already growing. More drops fell from his face, making his reflection ripple.

He rubbed his face with a hot, dry towel and fixed his suit, straightening it. Richard's lips became pursed and his expression became more serious as he picked up the sunglasses. He went to put them on then stopped, placing them in his jacket pocket, before walking out the room.

John sat on an old lounge chair, reading a thick reference book on the natural world, when Richard entered. Another glass of vodka had materialised, drawn to John like a magnet. The room was bare apart from a cranky father and a bookshelf. Avoiding them both, Richard made his way to the lone window which provided the only source of light in the room. He looked out, watching Linus move his outstretched hand to one of the emu's before pulling it away quickly, afraid of its sharp beak.

Richard floated slowly to the bookshelf, trying not to make a noise in the quiet room. He let his finger run down a few physics titles and picked one at random. He sat on the floor, cross-legged, pretending to read.

'Always an easy answer with you, isn't it?' said John, before peering over his book at Richard.

Richard looked back.

'Even when you were younger,' continued John, 'you never wanted to examine things closer, look for a more complete understanding. You always wanted the short version.'

'Occam's razor,' said Richard. 'The simplest explanation tends to be the right one. See, you did teach me something.'

'Ah, so you're just following the scientific method? Great! Let me see...'

John leapt to his feet, grabbed some chalk which sat on the bookshelf, and walked to a blank wall. He scribbled the word “Observation”, circling it.

'So you've observed that I don't want to accept the award,' said John. 'And your question is “why?”'

Richard thought for a moment. Why was he doing this? He'd have nothing to gain and everything to lose, surely? What am I missing?

'I'll ignore your thoughtless suggestion from earlier,' said John. 'So what other reason could there be?' He drew an arrow between the word “Observed” and a new word, “Hypothesis”. 'What's your hypothesis?' he said, circling it.

Richard decided to go along with the game. 'OK,' he said. 'You're going to say it's for idealistic reasons. You will say that science should be pure, that we shouldn't make a business out of it. That it needs to be done for the right reasons, ethical reasons. You'll say it's a kind of protest vote, to not accept. How am I doing?'

'Interesting hypothesis,' said John. 'It certainly sounds like a good reason to me.' As he spoke, John drew another arrow from the word “Hypothesis” to a new word, “Test”. 'But how would you test it? Bearing in mind, of course, that this is quickly devolving into the realm of one of the softer sciences, psychology.'

Richard smiled. Why was he making this so easy? 'My test has a few faults, but I'd perform it by determining if you were an ethical person,' he said. 'If you weren't, the test would fail, and we'd have to start again. Let's just say I've got my money on needing a new hypothesis.

For a moment, and only a moment, Richard noticed a slight change in John's expression. Then it was gone.

'And how can you tell if I'm an ethical person?' said John.

'Let's see,' said Richard, trying to draw it out. 'I would say that if an individual decided to fudge some numbers; add a few here, remove a few there...all so they could acquire enough funding to do some - albeit extremely important and world-changing - science. Yeah, I'd say if they did that, they would be unethical.'

'Good,' said John, turning back to the wall. 'So that hypothesis is wrong. We can move back and try another one.' He drew an arrow back from “Test” to “Hypothesis”. 'Oh,' he said, turning back for a moment, 'you weren't expecting me to be shocked at your great detective work, were you? Maybe you thought I'd get defensive and give you the opportunity to reveal your damning evidence, like in some fake movie trial, hmm? It doesn't work that way in the real world, Richard. Some poor scapegoat, some paper-pusher, may get knifed in the back and lose his job, but that's where it'll end. Next hypothesis, please.'

Richard had to think quick, regain his composure. 'OK, forget all this hypothesis stuff. At least tell me one thing: is that why you ran away from work?' Richard looked up at John. 'Is that why you ran away from me?'

John looked away. He took a few slow steps and sat back down in his chair. 'It's not like you're still a child,' he said. 'You're an adult. You can look after yourself.'

'But we needed each other. I needed you.'

'I needed to be alone. You don't understand. Work was all I had. It was the only thing that took my mind off it. If I buried myself in the work, focussed absolutely on that and only that, I could make it one or two minutes without remembering. Without seeing her in my mind. Without smelling her, tasting her.'

Richard blinked, his eyes welling up. He clutched the book in his hands, holding it close to his body.

'So I'd go in to work every day,' continued John. 'And every day things got worse. Our funding was fading away. Since the basic research was done, all the money moved to engineering and in implementing the reactors. I could see the writing on the wall. There's no room for people who have done things any more. The world is only fit for those who are in the process of doing, or who will do.'

'You could have got a job somewhere else. You can't tell me you weren't in demand.'

'Didn't seem worth it any more. There'd be new people to get around. More rooms full of dolts who all pretend to understand your work and get upset if you don't treat them like royalty. More people who love to feel important. But they're not. They're nothing. Just parasites. Worse than parasites! They get in the way of actual work getting done.'

'That's enough! These administrators you like to poke fun at are the only reason you could do what you did. You wouldn't have the money, the equipment, or the people without them.'

'Newton didn't need them. Neither did Tesla.'

'Tesla this, Tesla that. You know what? You're not Nikola Tesla. You're John Starkovich: good physicist, possible Nobel laureate, and horrible father. That's it!'

'Good physicist? Hmph! So your best comeback is a quid pro quo ad hominem attack? You were never good at creating a convincing and cogent argument. If I have one fault, it's not being firm enough with you. When I was a boy, your grandfather used to force my sisters and myself to debate him before dinner. We learnt the hard way, the best way. On one occasion, when I was getting a little ahead of myself, I tried to convince him that we should get extra...'

'Extra helpings for dinner, I know. And you lost and ended up with nothing. Well you know what? Your dad was a horrible father, too.'

John paused for a moment, thinking.

'OK,' he said. 'OK. A father should look out for his son, that's what your saying?'

Richard looked back. He may not have been a skilled debater but he knew not to answer a question without any idea where it would lead.

'If I accepted the prize,' continued John, 'it would help your career too, wouldn't it?'

'I'm not here for myself,' said Richard defensively. 'I'm here to make sure you accept what you deserve.'

'My very own Mephisto,' said John under his breath. 'But,' he said, louder, 'if it ever came up during budget time or for an application, you'd have to answer honestly that the venerable John Starkovich is indeed your father, correct? You certainly couldn't lie – that would be rude.'

'What are you getting at?' said Richard.

'And if that so happened to get you the deal, get you more money, more power; well, that's just icing on the torte.'

'I do what I can for the institute,' said Richard. 'We have a lot of overhead these days. It's not like before. We need more ancillary personnel.'

'More middle-managers you mean. More hoops to jump through for the people who should be getting the resources: the actual scientists.'

'We do some great science. I'm proud of what my guys do.'

John's eyes narrowed. His snarl slowly turned into a smile. 'You know what? I've decided to accept.'

'What?' said Richard, still guarded.

John beamed. 'I want to accept the prize,' he said.

Richard didn't like that smile. 'Why?'

'Why not?' said John. 'What did you say...I can get the biscuit as well?'

'Well, good. I guess.'

Richard knocked on the window. He gave a thumbs up symbol to Linus, then motioned for him to come back in the house.

'You've made the right choice,' said Richard, turning back to John. 'You deserve this.'

'We deserve this,' said John, still smiling.

'Maybe,' started Richard, 'maybe we can stay in touch more. You could even live with us for a while. See your grand-kids. I'm sure they'll give you a good debate, trust me.'

'It is all good?' said an out of breath Linus, rushing into the room. 'You will be accepting?' he asked John.

'I'm accepting,' said John.

Linus beamed.

'...on one condition,' said John.

Richard shot his father a look.

'Oh, well, I am sure we can accommodate,' said Linus.

'What condition?' said Richard, firmly.

'Oh, it's nothing too onerous, my boy. I will accept the Nobel prize if you step down from your role as director of the institute.'

'What?' said Richard.

'And vow never to work in a research facility again,' continued John.

'You can't be serious,' said Richard.

'Now, let us not be rash,' said Linus, looking at Richard.

'Why?' said Richard.

'Let's just say it's my one contribution to the people who do the actual work there. It's not a big gesture, perhaps, but I'm reminded of that joke, the one about a thousand dead lawyers at the bottom of the ocean.'

'Ah, I know that one,' said Linus, who laughed and then cuffed his mouth quickly.

Richard was unmoved. 'And what should I do instead, hmm? What would be satisfactory to the great John Starkovich?'

'That's up to you, Richard,' said John. 'It's your life.'

Richard stared back.

'Having said that,' continued John, 'a man of my age has built up a reasonable level of wisdom over the years. There are a great many leeches in this world, Richard. And a great many drains on society. If you could allow an old man just one suggestion, one tip, one thought, it would be to make yourself useful. Do something which benefits and enriches society. Do something important.'

'My work is important. I'm important.' Richard adjusted his tie nervously.

'Your honours focus was in biochemistry. You enjoyed it. You should go back to it.' John became more upbeat, almost pleasant.

'Ugh, I didn't enjoy it. You enjoyed that I did it. I wasn't even very good.'

'Of course you were. Just needed a little more discipline. That's something you learn as you get older.'

'I'm good at what I do now. Stop holding on to this stupid thought that I'll become a scientist.'

John became much more serious. 'You're going to have to come up with something soon. Otherwise you'll be unemployed.'

'I just said I won't do it,' said Richard.

'But we are talking of the prize, Richard,' interrupted Linus. 'It is bigger than all of us.'

'He's playing games,' said Richard. 'Trying to make a point.' Richard looked at John. 'Well done, you've proven what a big man you are and what you think of my life. Stop being stupid and just accept the prize like the old dolt you are.'

'Richard,' said Linus, 'please excuse me, it is not really my business, but is it disrespectful to say that about your father? Let alone such an eminent scientist.'

John smiled.

'You're unbelievable,' said Richard, shaking his head at John.

'It's just a humble request from an old dolt,' said John.

'I am sure we can arrive at a good solution,' said Linus.

'I can't believe you're going along with this,' said Richard. 'You've both lost it. I'm getting out of here. Come on.'

Richard slammed the door on the way out, leaving Linus and a smiling John.

'I will convince him,' said Linus. 'We will work it all out. It was an honour to meet you, Mr Starkovich.' Linus bowed before taking John's outstretched hand and shaking it profusely.

'Likewise,' said John.

'We will be in touch!' said Linus.

John watched them both through the window. Richard stood by the car, animated and upset. Linus attempted to placate and relax him before the assuredly heated trip.

John noticed his reflection in the window. His smile faded and his face drooped. Harsh wrinkles formed. He looked down and walked slowly away from the window.

© 2010 Ben Safta

 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License