volume eighty-six
a different kind of oscar
Except for the two seats in front of us, the ferry deck was already very full, as most of us took the “Check-in closes at 6:30am” notice seriously. The vacant spots faced their backs to us but grouped as a four with two other seats already occupied by two young girls who looked as excited as my friend and I for our day ahead. Like us, they quietly talked amongst themselves mixed with silently daydreaming out to the blue water.
Her presence was felt as soon as the door, sealed with the force of the wind, thrust open. It was something about the way it swung, like it mirrored her attitude, that I knew I should be paying attention. Both because there were notes to be taken, and because I sensed that was exactly what she wanted. A white woman, with short (presumably) permed (presumably dyed) blonde hair, and a thick New Zealand accent I usually adore, announced the empty seats in front of us loud enough for me to hear from the other side of the deck and pulled the man with her by his wrist to plop themselves in them.
Before we even slipped away from the dock, she was already taking selfies of them both. “Oscar! Just one more! Oscar! Please!”, as Oscar sat quietly and begrudgingly smiled, and I, very present in the backdrop of their photo, something I resent people never taking into consideration, bowed my head so that my cap covered my face.
She must have sent the pick of the bunch of selfies to a group chat that Oscar was not a part of. At least I hope he wasn’t otherwise the next part of her story is even more annoying. She read responses from several other people, their commentary “Looks great!” and “Have fun!” loud enough for everyone to hear, not just Oscar. Presumably deciding that wasn’t good enough she sprung from her seat and spun to snap away more photos of Oscar as we pulled away from the dock. I looked out to sea, the way Oscar wished to look out to sea. I know because as soon as he posed for a photo, that is exactly what he did.
I am not saying Oscar wasn’t happy being in her company, in fact, he seemed to love that she loudly laughed at all his jokes, even when I never heard him tell one, and the way she dramatically put her arm around him, almost knocking my friend and I in the process. I just don’t think Oscar wanted his picture taken.
The new photos were a hit as she read more messages from the group chat. “Oscar! Oscar! I said if you drown today, this is the photo they will use for your funeral! They all laughed! Isn’t that funny?”
Oscar didn’t think so, and neither did I.
Her reading of the group chat, which by now I had gathered was probably with her adult children — of which Oscar was not the father, so may not be in the chat after all — was interrupted by her phone ringing. I couldn't help but wonder how much farther from the mainland would we have to get for her to lose reception.
She answered the call, on loudspeaker. What proceeded was an extremely detailed conversation with who I can only assume was her lawyer, discussing intimate details of a rewritten will. I sensed that there had been a recent divorce and that Oscar was a new love. While holding the phone in one hand, she draped the elbow of her other arm over the back of her chair, turning her body to face Oscar so that her gold ring-covered hand was close enough to touch him, and letting her elbow practically fall into my friend’s lap who decided to shuffle her bag in place out of discomfort.
Five minutes of truly confidential information being shared later, she had the audacity to tell James, “James, James, James, I am going to have to go because we are on a ferry and there are people around.” Then she spoke to James for several more minutes about several more personal things.
Once off the phone, I thought we all might enjoy taking in the serenity in peace. For a moment I was distracted by the teenage girls who had spent all of the time we waited to set off, brushing their hair, who were now windswept and had all their hard work undone. Then I was distracted by a young father, holding a baby no more than a year old over the railing of the boat and I had to look away because I thought I might be sick with worry.
Pulling out her phone, our main character captured several more selfies of her and Oscar. “Oh come on Oscar, you nong!” as he looked away from the stunning view to her lense. Lowering the phone back to reading height, she announced that her “Mum finally got Whatsapp!” which was great information the fifty odd people on the outside deck had been impatiently awaiting the announcement of. Thank goodness, we all heard her yell it.
Then something magical happened. She must have lost reception because she looked up from her phone, out towards the endless turquoise sea, and gasped “Wow!” at the view.
On this gorgeous, clear, mildly warm day, that I could feel soaking into my sunscreened skin, and warming my black one-piece swimsuit I was wearing with a pair of elastic waist cotton shorts, I was in heaven. Excited to check off a bucket list item and meet a quokka.
Unfortunately, the lack of reception didn't give her fewer things to talk about.
“It's so sunny today! So warm! It’s windy on this boat, isn’t it? Do you think it will be windy on the island?”, she didn’t wait for an answer. “I hope it won’t be. Do you think there will be somewhere to eat as soon as we get there? What will we have for breakfast? There has to be more than one place to eat on the island, surely? Do we go right or left when we get off the boat? Wow, look at that ship we are passing! What’s it called?”, she still didn’t wait for an answer. Her red lipstick-covered mouth perfectly articulated and projected every word that even the sea breeze couldn’t drown it out.
“Look at all those other little islands! I wonder what they are? If quokkas are only on this island, how did they get there?”
Oscar’s response wasn’t heard but the back of his shoulders told me he said “I don’t know”.
“Oh it’s pretty pleasant out here today, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”. Now she wanted an answer.
We drew nearer to shore and our speed slowed. My excitement was bursting from within, all I wanted was to leap off the ferry and run to grab the apple turnovers my friend and I had heard so much about, meet the quokkas, and swim in the sea.
“The water is really clear, isn't it? You can see the bottom,” Oscar said, as he stood from his seat to look over the edge. “You can see all the rocks on the base so clearly”. Nothing.
Her head was buried back in her phone for a few moments, the reception likely returned, and she was quiet. Beautiful, silent moments passed until she looked up, walked over to Oscar and wrapped her arm around his waist, cuddling into his side. A moment of affection was seen right through by my friend and I who would later discuss the show being put on for us all.
“Look at the water, Oscar! It’s going to be so nice swimming in there. It’s so clear! Oscar? Do you see it? Oscar!” and she took her finger and poked him. Hard. In the chest, “Oscar I said do you see how clear the water is?”
As my friend and I made our way to the exit, I heard Oscar ask, “Should we make our way to collect our suitcases and get ready to disembark?”
“No, let’s just live in the moment”, she replied and I glanced over to see the teenage girls pulling their brushes through their hair.
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here are three things I struggled with this week:
🗒️ Keeping this story within the word count I try to stick to on my substack, so this section will be brief.
💭 Am I actually scared of failing, or am I really scared of succeeding?
⏸️ Sitting in stillness. Pausing.
here are three blessings from this week:
🌱 I was having a very stressful morning, then I went and watered the gardens, fed the chooks, and collected the eggs and it all melted away. AKA I am sorry for the things I said before the chickens made me giggle.
🪷 I attended Buddha’s Birthday this past weekend and feel so blessed to have been welcomed.
🎤 Crying through Australian Idol.
here are three goals for the coming week:
📵Prepare to get rid of the social media for my podcast. Merge to blog-only, doom-scroll-free content. It’s the final piece of that puzzle for me.
🥒 Pick the vegetables from the garden that are *almost* ready for eating. It has been a blessing helping them grow.
🌈 Reflect on a lot of the conversations I have been having around labels, and how maybe I don’t need some right now.
here is something I enjoyed this week:
The only reason I will be sad to leave the ‘gram is missing this. Go follow!
pics or it didn’t happen:
I love you. I’m so grateful to those who read my substack 🧡 because I really love writing it to you,
LD
xoxo
Kept waiting to read “and we, as a combined group effort, threw her off the boat”. Hope the swimming and apple turnovers were lovely. PS King Haggy is basking in his feature glory and says thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶
Your contemporaneous note-taking is brilliant. I know how good this is. Even being there, I could not have captured it so sharply and beautifully.
OMG Oscar! Her man. 'Did you get that everyone? He's mine, mine, mine. Draping her hands on his shoulder and tilting her head into his arm. The smoochy kisses. The selfies at 7.05 am [when we don't even want to speak at that hour.] That #$&! elbow right in front of me.
Those girls with their hairbrushes but it was the quiet third girl I loved best. While her friends preened and primped. she didn't give so much as one toss of her head and her hair remained roughly pulled back into a pony-tail.
Now I want an apple turnover and the beach. Again.