by John Marsden
They certainly had plenty of servants to pick from. Kevin's group had eight members and they looked fit enough, from a distance. Lean, but fit. We watched them swing away to the south when they got close to the flagpole. They walked on down a side track to another group of old buildings, a dilapidated bunch of cottages and sheds. They disappeared into there; the ute pulled up behind them and the two sentries got out. One stayed at the front of the buildings; the other went to the back. By remaining a hundred metres away on either side they had a good field of fire if anyone tried to escape. They could hold the place easily with just two of them.
Ten minutes later an old Commer fire tender drove up to the same buildings. There were two sentries riding shotgun on the back. Four prisoners got out of the cab and went straight into the cottages. These sentries had a short chat to their mate out the front, then went to the homestead. Half an hour later they returned and relieved the two men on guard.
We were very excited by what we'd seen. We were all bursting to talk to Kevin. We wanted to tell him everything that had happened to us, and we wanted to hear everything that had happened to him. We hoped he'd have information on all the people we knew, not just our families, but our friends as well, and especially Corrie. Most of all, we wanted him to rejoin us. Our group could never be complete again, since the death of Chris, but having Kevin back would be fantastic. There were times in the past when he'd irritated me but in the excitement I'd forgotten all that. Anyway, I would have irritated him often enough too.
At first we thought it would be easy to get to him. The security seemed so light compared to what we'd taken on and beaten in the past. But as we waited and waited through the night for our chance, We began to realise that it wasn't going to be such a picnic. There were only two sentries, but they were wide awake. They were relieved at midnight by a pair who were equally-sharp. After a freezing night we had to give up, and with the approach of dawn we slipped away through the trees to find a safe spot to sleep.
We realised we had to make something happen. Lee took only a short sleep, then went back and watched to see where the work parties went. He followed them to a dam in a distant paddock, then came back to tell us that they were repairing its wall: it was a newish earthen dam that didn't seem to be holding together too well. We left them there and spent a slow- day in the cold woods, waiting for them to return.
Our first aim was of course to let Kevin know we were around. Again that should have been easy. At about 5.30 they came trudging back, but this time, instead of taking the track down to the old buildings where they slept, they took another one, which led around the lake. This brought them fairly close to us, so we followed, keeping inside the beeline. After fifteen minutes they were out of sight of the main house, and at that point the ute stopped and the guards got out. "This OK," I heard one of them call. They leant themselves comfortably against the ute and took out cigarettes, laughing as they watched the prisoners. The prisoners were laughing too, making comments to each other that I couldn't quite pick up. Then I found myself blushing a little as I realised what they were going to do.
"Oh golly," Fi giggled, beside me. She'd just realised what was happening. I took a quick look at her. If I was blushing, she looked sunburnt. Half the men were down to their jocks already. Clothes were dropping like rose petals, and pink skin was appearing everywhere. Not as pink as Fi's and mine though. I didn't dare look at Kevin; I knew that if I caught one glimpse of him I'd never be able to look him in the face again.
I mean, I'd be embarrassed to come face-to-face with him again.
Behind me I could hear Robyn giggling and Homeland Lee making outraged noises at us: "This is R-rated," Homer hissed. "Cover your eyes." We ignored him as a variety of male shapes and sizes were suddenly revealed. It was very interesting. Then there were lots of pale bums as the men ran full-tilt into the lake, yelling and swearing at the shock of the cold water. Some of them were out again in thirty seconds, after quickly-splashing themselves; others dived right under. The guards threw a cake of soap in and quite a few guys used that, passing it around like a football. But no one stayed in longer than ten minutes.
It was good to see that despite everything that had happened they could still laugh.
There were no towels. They had to use their clothes to dry themselves. I felt sorry for them doing that: I hate putting on wet clothes. The game of football with the soap that started in the water developed into a game with a shoe on land, as they tried to get warm again. Then, floating across the air towards us we heard one man ask the guard "Can we run back? To warm up?"
The guard looked at his mate, then back at the prisoner. "How many?"
The prisoner'turned to the others and called out, "Who wants to run back to the house?"
Four hands were waved in the air. One of them was Kevin's.
"Go like stink," Homer whispered. He didn't need to tell us twice. We started withdrawing, wriggling back through the undergrowth. When we were well clear of the lake we turned and sprinted, heading for the house and sheds where the prisoners lived. Robyn led. She wasn't the fastest over a short distance, but she had stamina. I stuck with her fairly well, then came Fi, then Lee, then Homer, who was too heavy for long-distance running. Robyn set a cracking pace! yet when we got within sight of the buildings, she wasn't even short of breath. She was getting her fitness back faster than I was.
She stopped behind a big tangle of blackberries in a little gully, and we looked anxiously for Kevin and the others. "There they are," Fi said, as she arrived beside us. I saw them then, too. They were slowing down as they approached their cottage,' three still jogging, the other two, Kevin and another, walking. A moment later they were in among the sheds and out of sight.
"Let's go for it," Homer panted. "We mightn't get another chance for ages."
"Not everyone," I said.
"You go," Robyn said. "And Lee."
The others didn't say anything, so I took that for agreement and, with an anxious look towards the lake, crouched low and ran down to the buildings, using them as cover to hide me from anyone up in the main house. We came in through a gap between a galvanised-iron shed and a carport and arrived, breathing fear, quivering like working dogs as they watch their boss approach. We were in a small courtyard, very old, with wallflowers and lavender piled up around a huge well. The stonework around the well was collapsing, but it was a pretty little spot. Lee grabbed my arm. "This way," he whispered. I followed him, realising as I did that he could hear their voices. We ran a few metres around an old wall and came to a half-open door. I heard someone say, "Yeah, but he had an average of sixty in Sheffield Shield, you know," and then Lee pushed the door open.
Four
At first I didn't sec Kevin. I saw four astonished faces, four open pairs of eves, four startled mouths. One man, a small middle-aged bloke with a thin moustache, started saving, "Who the...?"
Then Lee shut the door and I saw Kevin, who till then had been hidden by it.
I'll always treasure the look on Kevin's face. Sometimes life really can be like the movies. This time it was. Kevin did one of those dumb double takes that they do in comedy films, and it was a beauty. He was casually-asking, "What's the problem?" but he didn't get to finish the word "problem." His chin dropped and his eyes looked like they would pop. His mouth started trying to form a new word but his bottom lip couldn't get around it and just kept wobbling uncontrollably. The only sound that came out was a sort of "wo, wo, wo—"
I flung myself on him. For a minute he was too shocked to do anything, but eventually he remembered how to hug. Lee joined in and we formed a clump of three, arms around each other, having a good rock. My old hassles with Kevin were all forgotten at that moment.
When we'd had our hug, I took a look at the other men. They were watching and smiling, but as I brushed my hair back and wiped my eyes, the little guy with the moustache spoke up again.
"Sorry to be a party pooper, folks, but you'll have to get out of here. They'll be back at any
moment."
"Can we take Kevin?" I asked.
They looked suddenly alarmed. "No, no way," one of them said.
"They're right," Kevin said. "I can't come with you."
"But we, we were hoping..." I said.
"Look," Kevin said, "you've got to go. Tomorrow we're working at the piggery. It's over to the..."
"Yes, we know where it is."
"OK, be in the bush behind it, on the top of the little knoll there, about lunchtime. I'll get away somehow and meet you for a few minutes. We can talk then."
"OK."
He hurried us through the door and we ran back past the well and the galvanised-iron shed. Kevin went out onto the muddy brown track, then gave us a signal. "Hurry," he called. As we ran past he slapped my back. "Take'care, Ellie," he whispered. I was moved that he said that. I waved to him when I got into the beeline. Then the little procession of prisoners appeared from the direction of the lake and Kevin immediately turned around and walked casually back to the sheds.
Lee and I hustled on up to the others, who were busting to hear what we had to say. We were all wildly-excited. I think we were so sick of each other's company that the possibility of welcoming Kevin back was wonderful for all of us.
"What'd he say? Can we get him out? How'd he sound? How'd he'look? He's lost a few k's, hey? What did the others say?"
It took an hour before we calmed down, and then we spent half the night trying to figure out what we could do. At least it helped keep us warm—that night was even colder than the one before. Then, about midnight, it started to ram. We crept down to a hayshed and burrowed in there for a sleep, but it meant we had to post a sentry. That was a drag. I did the first one but didn't sleep'much after it, anyway. When dawn came I got up and went over to Homer who was taking his turn. "You go back to bed if you want," I said, "I'm wide awake so I might as well do sentry."
"I couldn't sleep either. Let's just talk. That way we might talk each other to sleep."
So we talked, first time in a long time. We'd always been friends—We were practically raised together—but I'd been finding him suffocating in recent months, so I'd given him more room. Sometimes I just wanted to breathe my own air. Wherever there was Homer there wasn't room for much else. We didn't seem to have the time for relationships these days. No, not the time: the energy. That's what we were missing. We were more selfish, I know that much. I used to have strong feelings about Homer but now my strongest feelings were reserved for me, for keeping myself going.
But we talked, mainly about what our world would be like if we ever won back our country. It had always been an article of faith with us that we would win.' These days, though, seeing colonists looking so settled, so comfortable, we had to admit that the odds were starting to tip against us. The effect on Homer was to make him more warlike. "After it's over," he said, "we've got to turn this country into a fortress. Everyone should be trained to use weapons, to fight. If anyone tries to invade us again we've got to be ready. And if they do come, we've got to fight for every house, every street, every hectare. That's what we've got to do."
Me, I had the opposite reaction. I told Homer my favourite story.
"Once upon a time there was a village near a cliff. The road to the village was dangerous, and lots of cars went over the cliff and crashed on the rocks below. The people in the cars got mashed up whenever that happened; some of them even got killed. But eventually the village got a government grant to do something about it. Only trouble then was that the village split into two groups! the people who wanted to build a fence around the top of the cliff, and the people who wanted to buy an ambulance to put at the bottom of the cliff, to cart the casualties off to hospital."
"Yeah, they shouldn't have waited for a government grant," said Homer, being smart. "They should have done something about it themselves. That's a good story"
"Oh, Homer! You don't have to play dumb any more! You're not at school now."
"Oh, you mean I've missed something? What kind of fence did they want to build?"
"Very funny. I just think that it's no use having invaders'pour into the country and then trying to do something about it. What we need to do is to help other countries get better incomes, so that they don't feel any great urge to rush in here."
"That's easier said than done."
"How do we know? We never really tried. Anyway, turning the place into a fortress is hopeless. We haven't got enough people to do it properly, even if we wanted to, which I don't."
"I used to think there were too many people here before. Now look at it."
"Yeah, they're packing them in. 'Populate or perish,' that was the motto in Grandma's generation. These guys are carrying it out for us."
"You and Lee are sure doing your best."
"What? What did you say?" I started belting him around the head with my gloved hands. "You take that back."
"Why, don't tell me he's still got some condoms left?"
"Homer!" I hit him a few more times. When I'd beaten him to a pulp, I said, "Anyway, I bet Fi's just waiting for you to ask her."
He looked embarrassed at that. "I don't want to get too serious," he mumbled.
"Well, it's either her or Robyn. You don't have a lot of choices."
"Robyn's a bit of a suck, don't you reckon? She's so perfect all the time. She reckons she's so good."
"No, she doesn't," I said loyally.
"Ah well, I wouldn't ever want to go with her. She'd always be telling you what to do. She'd drive any bloke crazy"
I was shocked at anyone criticising Robyn. She was one of my role models—along with Marilyn Monroe and Emily Dickinson. But Homer always had trouble getting on with strong-minded people. Except me. No, even me sometimes.
We could hear Robyn and Fi talking, back in the hay, so I went and joined them.
"This hay sticks into me so badly," Fi complained. "In all those kids' books people used to sleep in haystacks and it sounded really comfortable. But there's nothing comfortable about it."
We had no need to move until eleven o'clock, so I got back in my sleeping bag and talked to them for a while, before dozing off into a light sleep. We'd been trying to make do on two meals a day, to save supplies, and breakfast was the meal I usually skipped. So there wasn't much incentive to get out of the sleeping bag again.
With the rain still falling and the temperature feeling close to zero we didn't know if the prisoners would be taken off to work. But sure enough, right on nine o'clock, we saw a little bedraggled file of men slopping across the paddock, followed by the guards in their ute. We let them go, glad that We could at least stay dry. Being a prisoner looked worse than working for my dad.
As lunchtime approached my nerves got more and more frayed. Kevin had the answers to a lot of questions that we had been fretting on for a long time. If he could get away on his own for a few minutes we would be able to have our first ever safe conversation with someone who'd been in the Showground. I got so excited I found myself chewing on a corner of my sleeping bag. Of course we all hoped he'd be able to rejoin us, to bring our numbers back up to six, but We knew there was some problem with escaping, or he would have done it yesterday. That was one of the things we wanted to ask about.
We were in position above the piggery well before noon. The ute was parked there, so we assumed they were all inside, although it was twenty minutes before we saw any activity. Then one of the prisoners came out and got a couple of paintbrushes from the back of the ute. He gazed searchingly up the hill towards us for a minute—they must have all known we'd be there—but we didn't dare show ourselves. He soon went back inside.
The next one to appear was Kevin. He came hurrying out holding a shovel over his left shoulder. He came straight towards us, head down, like a man on a mission. As he got closer I realised what the mission was. He had a roll of toilet paper in his hand. I started laughing.
When he was only a couple of metres away from me I called out softly: "Not here you don't." He grinned but he didn
't slow down or raise his head until he was well inside the belt of trees, out of sight of the piggery.
Then Robyn, Homer and Fi had the chance that Lee and I had had the day before. There was heaps of hugging. It was only the fear of time that put a stop to it but, even so, the whole time that Kevin was talking Fi stood beside him holding his hand and stroking it. We were very happy to see him. But soon the questions started flooding in, till Kevin had to put his hand up to stop them.
"Whoa, whoa, guys, hold the phone, one at a time."
"How's Corrie?" I asked quickly, before anyone else had a chance to ask anything else.
"Depends on who you talk to. I haven't seen her since the night she got shot. In fact, I heard that you guys have seen her since I have. Look, I'd say she's about the same, still in a kind of coma. Some people say-she's worse, because she's still losing weight, but other people say they're sure she hears them when they talk to her. I don't' know People think what they want to think. No one's got any definite info."
"How are all our families?"
"Not bad, the last time I saw them. I've been out with these work parties quite a while, but everyone was looking OK a few weeks back. I mean, it's all' relative, isn't it? You guys look a lot healthier than anyone at the Showground, but now that people are getting out and working again they're starting to pick up."