Page 36 of The Wish

A ll eyes look up as Alex strides into the office. A few colleagues call out greetings, others offer a thumbs-up or quiet nods – small signals of solidarity.

He heads straight for Sarah’s cubicle, where Charlie and Phil are already gathered. Charlie spots him and steps aside, revealing the screen: a scene of Jesse’s family, talking and laughing together.

‘That looks really good,’ Alex says.

Sarah spins in her chair and grins. ‘Yup, no more characters talking to walls, we are a family that is communicating.’

Alex leans in closer. ‘No, that looks really good, better than it should . . . is that our new facial animation system in there?’

Sarah and Phil exchange conspiratorial looks.

‘I said fixes only. If Ian sees this, he’ll have me.’

‘There was no choice,’ Sarah shrugs. ‘The patch depended on the Face-Tech module. Without it, none of the fixes would work.’

She pats Phil’s shoulder. ‘And I told him not to use it.’

‘Hey, I just make it look good,’ Phil says, hands up.

Alex exhales, not hiding his admiration. ‘You did. Thanks. All of you. Send me everything – we’ll keep pushing it from my end.’

He grabs his chair and wheels it over to Steve’s desk.

‘Man, where’ve you been?’ Steve says. ‘Ian’s ready to fire your sorry arse, again.’

‘I need your help. Tonight.’

Steve pauses. ‘What about Ian?’

‘Let him do what he wants. Are you in?’

Steve stands up, looking down at Alex, critically assessing him.

This is someone he has not seen before, someone who is standing his ground, not rolling over to the demands, belittlement and humiliation thrown his way in the past. This is a young man on a mission – and that mission is to help a very sick teenage girl. He likes what he sees.

‘Yeah,’ Steve says. ‘What do you need?’

‘My place. Tonight. Tell your family I’m sorry.’

Steve glances at a photo on his desk – his wife and two kids, crammed onto a swing, all beaming at the camera.

‘They’ll understand. You staying here?’

‘No. Heading home. See you later.’

He’s halfway to the car park when his phone rings.

‘Sandy?’

‘I got the results. You were right about the blood type, but there aren’t enough markers. You’re not a match for Jesse. I’m sorry, Alex.’

Alex closes his eyes. ‘Thanks for letting me know, for trying. Really.’

‘You’re already doing more than most. Just – know that.’

‘Let’s keep this between us?’

‘Of course. But the results are on the hospital system now. I can’t erase those.’

‘Understood. See you.’

At home, Alex kneels beside Max. ‘We’re heading out early. Sorry it’s still hot – let’s run under the trees. Steve’s coming over later. He’s helping. You in?’

Max wags his tail, delighted.

Later, Steve arrives with a bag.

‘Sorry about being late. When I told Lydia where I was going, she insisted I bring something for us to eat.’

‘I don’t think I want to know what you’ve been telling her about me,’ Alex says with a knowing smile. He has no doubt his colleagues have all reported home about the loner who is first in each morning and last to leave each night.

‘Do you want to eat first?’ Steve says, eyeing the bag as he follows Alex into the kitchen and placing it on the bench.

‘Oh yeah, sure, why not, I’ll get some plates. Do you know what she’s sent?’

Steve starts opening the bag, pulling out plastic containers. ‘It’s what we were having for dinner tonight. Pasta, salad and I think there will be some garlic bread in there. Any chance you have parmesan?’

‘Ah, don’t think so.’

‘I’ll look in the fridge,’ Steve says, walking towards the refrigerator.

‘Don’t bother, I don’t have parmesan. Does it matter?’

Steve goes back to unpacking the food. ‘Hey, what do you know, my wife thinks of everything.’ He waves a small container. ‘Cheese.’

‘Great, let’s eat then.’

‘Well, can we heat it up? It’s warm but will taste better if we heat it up some.’

Alex looks around his kitchen, opens a cupboard, peers in before closing it. ‘Oh yeah, I know where the pots are, they’re under the sink.’

‘Thanks, if it’s OK, I think I’d better take over the food. Any chance you’ve got a beer in your fridge?’

‘Now that’s something I can get for you.’

Alex hands Steve a bottle of beer before sitting at the kitchen table and watching him heat up the pasta, then scramble around in cupboards to find a bowl to empty the salad into from its plastic container.

Inside the oven he finds a tray, turning the oven on he places the garlic bread on the tray and pops it into the oven to warm.

Within minutes they are enjoying a wonderful home-cooked meal, washed down with a second beer.

They both surreptitiously slip Max a piece of garlic bread.

Steve clears the table, putting the dishes into the dishwasher, packing the empty containers back into the bag.

From the remaining container he shows Alex the home-baked brownies and isn’t surprised when one is immediately playfully snatched away.

The gentle moaning is testament to his wife’s baking ability. The crumbs are hoovered away by Max.

‘You’re one lucky bugger,’ Alex tells him.

‘Nothing you couldn’t have if you put yourself out there.’

‘Yeah, sure. Come on, we’ve got work to do.’

The last thing Alex wants to do is talk about himself.

Opening the door into his office, Alex flicks the overhead light on. Following him, Steve stops in the doorway.

‘Wow, look at all this kit!’

Steve slowly walks towards the wall of monitors, screens, keyboards which come to life with a flick of a switch.

‘I think the guys at work may have solved my biggest problem but there’s still so much to do.’

Steve is still taking in the sophistication of the equipment in front of him. ‘Why do you work for a jerk like Ian when you could run your own business right here? Hell, you could put a man on the moon with this stuff.’

‘I guess you wouldn’t believe me if I said it’s for the camaraderie of the office and our colleagues.’

‘Nope, not buying that.’

‘Truth is, I love what we do there, it’s so cutting edge – well, it was – and as a team we’re the best in the business, you know that.’

‘OK, but how the hell did you afford all this? I mean, I know the cost of some of this stuff, way outside my budget.’

‘I basically live like a monk; I’ve worked since I was a kid and saved every penny.

I only buy tech stuff, feed me and Max. I know everyone at TriOptics is producing cutting edge work but there’s a lot you can do with what I’ve got here, outside of the big shoots in the studio.

I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve been working on software to make a version of what we do at the studio, affordable and accessible to the average fifteen-year-old.

Why shouldn’t others be able to produce the experiences we do? We should share the knowledge.’

‘But you’d copyright and protect your intellectual property. Sell the product.’

‘Well, yeah, but I’d make it affordable.’

‘And then you’d walk away from TriOptics, Ian and all his bullshit?’

‘That’s a tricky one to answer. If I didn’t come into the office, the only person who would register my existence is Max. I’ve been pretty much a solo unit, until I started hanging out at the hospital with Jesse, her family and the other kids there. And Kelly.’

Steve turns back to the screens, to the different photos of Jesse, Amy, her family.

Steve pauses by one screen. ‘Who is she?’ he asks.

‘Ah, that’s Kelly, Jesse’s social worker.’

Steve studies the photo of Kelly. ‘This is the social worker you’ve been having a hard time with?’ He looks at Alex, shaking his head, a wry smile on his face. ‘You’ve got to get out more, my friend.’

‘It’s not that simple. She’s ah, complicated.’

‘Really. Huh. A complicated woman. Who would have thought?’

‘Forget her. If you’re ready to start, I’ll show you what I’ve got and where the different files are.’

Max settles into his bed as Alex and Steve dive into the job at hand.

‘Just hang on a minute while I update everything with what Sarah did today, should now make it easier for us to plan what we need to shoot at the studio.’

Videos and still photos slide between the monitors.

Throughout the night, Alex and Steve identify and compile files, at times struggling to determine timelines based on what they think Jesse’s age is in photos. Regularly they stand and stretch, go to the kitchen for water, the bathroom, to eat the remaining brownies.

As the room starts to lighten, Steve glances at his watch.

‘Oh Christ, I’ve got to go, I’ve just got time to go home, have a shower, kiss Lydia and the kids hello and goodbye and get to the office.

In the mood Ian’s in right now he’s just as likely to fire me for being five minutes late.

You, well as much as he’d love to get rid of you, he knows Frank would boot him out the door if he did, so I don’t think you are fired just yet.

And, given what you said about not having anyone but Max to miss you, it’s just the tiniest bit possible that you need us as much as we need you. ’

Max barks at this point – the man is right.

‘Sorry, mate, didn’t realise how late it was.’

‘It’s not late anymore, we’ve gone beyond late, we’re now early.’

‘OK, off you go and please, tell Lydia thanks for the dinner and brownies, and sorry for keeping you out all night. And thanks. I mean it. I think we just might do this.’

‘Are you coming into the office?’

‘Nah.’

‘OK. I’ll see myself out.’

‘Thanks, I’ll give you a call later.’

Stopping to rub Max’s belly, Steve leaves, turning back and catching Alex staring at a photo of Kelly.

Hearing the front door shut Alex stands and stretches, looking over at Max.

‘Why didn’t you tell me it was so late? Maybe we should take a break. Come on, outside.’