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  BRAZIL

  “Here we are Neville,” said Grandma as she escorted me onto the clear Perspex covered deck. “Sit out here with Grandpa and enjoy the sun while I finish getting the party things organized. The grumpy old deaf bugger won’t annoy you.”

  I subconciously nodded, as if understanding.

  Grandma went on. “With his Alzheimer’s, he won’t remember you. If he’s off in his dream world he probably won’t even know you’re there.”

  “That’s O.K., Gran. Just call out if you need my help.”

  “Thanks for coming early like I asked, but I’ve decided that we’d all eat inside. So I won’t need you to lift the table outside.”

  “That’s O.K. Gran. I see he’s still got his favourite old chair.

  “Oh Neville. Don’t remind me. Sometimes I feel ashamed. It should’ve been thrown away 15 years ago. When we got the new lounge suite, he wanted to keep his chair for the terrace. He said if it went, so would he. I should’ve thrown him out with the other useless junk. At least the other chair, my one, is newer.”

  Grandpa glanced up and briefly looked at the pair standing on the wooden deck with eyes that seemed glazed and far away before returning to stare into the distance.

  I grinned as I looked at Grndpa’s well worn, but obviously still comfortable, single lounge seat. “It’s really lasted a long time. I remember it was outside and looked old even before I started high school.”

  “Only the terrace roof has protected it from the rain all these years.”

  “How’s he been?”

  “Physically, very well. He talks when he wants to, but it’s rare. His Alzheimer’s is embarrassing when we have guests. Sometimes it’s worse than others. He doesn’t remember any of my friends or many of my relations. And when they try to tell him who they are, he can’t hear them, so eventually they give up.”

  “Don’t worry, Gran. I’ll just soak up some rays. Just call out if you need me.”

  “Thanks again, Neville.” Grandma turned and walked inside as Neville made himself comfortable in Grandma’s chair.

  When I looked across at Grandpa, I was surprised to see him looking back, eyes now very clear and focused. I nodded a silent acknowledgement and again was surprised at Grandpa’s nodded response.

  Grandpa was soon back gazing into the distance, and it was silent for a few seconds.

  Grandpa sat forward, looked left and right along the terrace and then sat back again.

  “Brazil.”

  “What?” I looked up surprised. I sat forward in my chair. It was the first time I had heard Grandpa speak in over ten years

  “Brazil,” he repeated, leaning further backward on his precious sofa recliner. God only knows how the sofa had survived. It had suffered 20 or so years of outdoor weathering and it gave the appearance it had been rescued from the rubbish dump. But, it was Grandpa’s, and only tolerated by Grandma because it was unseen at the back of the house.

  With the back of the sofa away from any windows or doors, and against the outside wall, it was probably the most private part of the deck.

  “Yep. Brazil.”

  I nearly ran inside to tell Grandma that Grandpa was speaking.

  “Do you want me to get Grandma and tell her you’re talking?”

  “Not if you want to live, boy.”

  I quickly decided in favour of our privacy. Grandpa had been deaf for over 15 years, though he could lip-read if he was looking at you. With his Alzheimer’s he rarely spoke with visitors or relations around.

  “But you’ve been deaf for over 15 years. Have you got a hearing aid now?”

  “What for? I don’t wanna look like I’ve got a big fat boil growing out of my ears. I don’t need no hearin’ aid.”

  “Sorry. I was just a bit surprised.”

  “You’ll learn soon enough, everything is not as it appears.”

  “What about Brazil, Grandpa?”

  Grandpa again cast his eyes left and right along the deck to confirm we were alone. Satisfied that we were, he put his hands behind his neck and locked his fingers.

  “Should be the world’s wealthiest nation.”

  I balked in surprise. Perhaps it was coincidence that his answer related to my question.

  “Why so wealthy?”

  “It’s got it all.”

  I looked in his direction. He could not be reading my lips from that angle.

  “Why isn’t it then?”

  “Would be if it weren’t run by idiots.”

  “What’s so special about it?”

  “Its rain forests supply a third of the world’s supply of oxygen; stupidly giving it away for free!”

  That would seemingly confirm he was hearing every word I was saying, otherwise the accurate related answers to the questions I had asked was astronomically coincidental.

  “It’s good you’re not deaf Grandpa.”

  “Course I’m not deaf! Never have been. And you young Neville better keep your mouth shut about it too.”

  “What about Grandma?”

  “You don’t have to live with her. She’s the main reasons I want to be deaf. She’s like a 24 hour, non-stop, talk back radio show that you can’t turn off. Now she just stands at the sink, talking away to herself. She doesn’t bother cursing me under her breath any longer, she just lets it all hang out, as loud as she wants. Doesn’t think I can hear a word she saying. Maybe you’ll understand when you get old like me. Yep, you just start to switch off from all the lip-flap, and they presume you’re deaf.”

  “Does anyone else know you’re not deaf?”

  “Just some very few.”

  “What about the Alzheimer’s then?”

  “Think about it boy. Haven’t you met enough fools yet to know you can’t be bothered remembering them, let alone talk to them? Deafness and Alzheimer’s fixes both those problems.”

  Grandma stepped onto the decking, stood in front of Grandpa and mimed putting a cup of tea to her lips.

  “Cuppa tea?” she mouthed silently.

  He seemingly lip-read and nodded.

  Grandma looked at me. “What about you Neville? Tea or coffee?”

  “Coffee thanks Gran. Milk and one sugar.”

  “You know the stubborn old bugger won’t even let me take him to get his hearing checked. Maybe get one of those really good hearing-aids. You know, some of my friends, well, their husbands have got them. Now they can talk to their husband’s any time. Whereas this old bugger just sits there. No sense talking to him. He’s beyond reasoning.”

  Grandma threw a look of daggers at Grandpa as she turned and walked inside.

  Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I said “Why not a hearing aid? Haven’t there been times you’ve felt guilty and think you should suddenly recover your hearing?”

  “C’mon. I might be old but I’m not stupid. I’ve learned a thing or two in my lifetime. Sometimes the benefits far outweigh the occasional disadvantages. You heard what she said. The weak dominated husbands with their hearing-aids still get lip-flap all the time. I don’t. You know why? She thinks I’m deaf. If I want to go out, I do. She knows it’s no good arguing if I can’t hear her.”

  I could see Grandpa’s reasoning. Grandma always had a reputation for talking a lot.

  “Sometimes it’s a bit annoying when I’m watching sport on the TV and she turns the sound down because she thinks I don’t need it.”

  “So, who else do you talk to?”

  “All my other deaf mates at the club. Twice a week I go there to play cards and have a few drinks with them. Or we’ll all meet up to watch a big game on the big screen at the club. It’s great without nagging wives ruining it all.”

  Grandma returned carrying Grandpa’s cup and saucer of tea, and my coffee in a mug.

  “I could’ve sworn I heard voices talking,” she said

  “Nah,” I said. “Just me singing to myself.”

  “Such a pity Grandpa can’t hear you. You’ve always had su
ch a lovely voice, even when you were little.” She looked at Grandpa, nodded her head vigorously, and exhaled noisily between her clenched teeth.

  “Just look at it, Neville. The useless blob just sits there like a wobbly jelly. I’d rather have a dog for company. At least it pays attention and listens when you speak.” She muttered some unintelligible obscenities at Grandpa before she turned and walked back indoors.

  Grandpa’s eyes followed her indoors. After a few moments, to make sure she was out of hearing range, he looked at me.

  “Don’t take no offence Neville. Grandma’s tone deaf. She’s just trying to grease your wheels boy and get on your good side. You couldn’t sing for shit.”

  I sat back in my chair, fingers locked together behind my neck, and thought about Grandpa’s comments.

  “You’re a wise and very honest man Grandpa.”