Jayla Mile. Chapters 11, 12, 13

11. Sticks and Stones

Descending from Stop 39, the tipsy pair head north in a cab to the man’s house. Far from the brash city lights, he leads her along a moonlit path in the autumnal night. Noticing a small pine tree, she pauses to take in the fresh scent of its resin. She topples a little into its moon-splashed needles so he takes her arm - that arm again - and steers her to the front door of his house, a modest brick manse on a piece of land dotted with plants and trees.

Once inside she removes her boots and places her stocking feet cautiously on the champagne-coloured carpet. Gawking at paintings in fancy gilt frames and at antique cabinets full of crystal bells and ancient ink wells, she follows the man to the kitchen where he makes coffee in a coffeepot of robin’s-egg blue and serves it in cups to match.

She trips softly on the plush carpeted stairs as they make their way to a quiet room with a gabled window and flowered wallpaper. She sinks into a pink velvet chair, flipping her legs over its antique arm. Her ebony rags contrast strikingly with the dusky-rose upholstery.

He places the tray on a shiny dark-wood table and pours the coffee. They sip silently while listening to music. Running her hand along the soft chair arm, she asks his name. He puts a finger to his lips and indicating the turntable with his other hand, whispers: “Das Rheingold.”

“That’s a nice name,” she mutters, ignoring his insistence on total attention to the music. Tinkering with some rose-coloured crystal teardrops that hang from a lamp, she adds, “I’ll just call you Gold then.”

This makes him laugh in spite of Wagner. He asks, “And what is Jay short for?”

“Jayla,” she says. “If you don’t like it you can always call me Helium. That’s my middle name.”

12. Sticks and Cornerstone

“What a gas!” Samuel laughs as he sketches her in the light from the rain-splashed window.

“A colourless gas,” Jayla Helium Mile responds with less life than a still life. “Maybe my mother felt like a deflated balloon after she gave birth to me.”

“Perhaps. But it’s also a noble gas,” Samuel says. “Your name comes from the word ‘helios’ which means ‘sun’.”

13. Rosie By Any Other Name

Perched and pensive on a hill and painted yellow to relieve its Victorian gloom, the farmhouse looms large and watchful over the land. Jay plunks herself down at the veranda table and inhales deeply the oat-straw and cow-pie air. She watches her mother as she brings a pitcher of milk and some hardtack from the kitchen, this mother she hasn’t seen since she was a small child.

Looking out over pigpens and chicken coops and sprawling farmland, Rosie tells her daughter: “Helium is a name from a poet’s compendium. I just liked it. And I named you Jayla because I loved the sound of it - the music in it. Just like I loved you...love you.”

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