by Karen Wood
‘Sure,’ said Bron. ‘How are they doing over there?’
‘Not good by the sound of it. There’s no one to look after the place apart from Dan.’
‘There’s a honeymoon period after funerals, then eventually everyone gradually gets back to their lives and the family is left to struggle along on its own. That’s when it gets tough.’
It had been over a year since Dan’s mum had found his old man dead in the paddock with the tractor still driving around in circles. The coroner reckoned it had rolled twice before righting itself and taking off again.
‘I’m going to help him fix the yards so at least he can get the cattle in,’ said Kaydon. ‘He’s got two-year-old stock that have never been handled.’
‘You be careful around them,’ said his mum.
‘Just fencing today,’ he assured her.
‘Get Aaron to go over and help when you’re ready to muster.’
An hour later his mum dropped him at the gate, a rusty excuse for one anyway. It had a timber sign with BAUHALA carved onto it and a yellow triangular Lock the Gate – to coal and gas companies campaign sign, half falling off, ironic given that the gate was beyond being locked anyway. Bauhala had been named not for the creek that ran through it but for the oil wells that were sucked dry in the sixties before Dan’s granddad had bought the place. Capped off now, the oil wells were little more than big empty underground reservoirs with cattle grazing around them.
The place looked terrible. The fences around the house had been pushed over, and hungry cattle grazed in the front yard. There was mess everywhere, from empty wooden crates to rolls of wire, old gates and scraps of timber.
Kaydon had never seen the place like this before. It had always been humble, a small fibro home with a couple of trees and lots of sheds, but it had been maintained, cared for, like a home. Today it didn’t look like a home at all.
Mrs Tremonti came to the front door.
‘I came over to give Dan a hand with the fences.’
‘He’s down at the yards,’ she said. ‘He didn’t come in for lunch – he’ll be starving. Come in and I’ll fix something for you to take to him.’
Kaydon followed her into the house and was relieved to find it was much the same as ever; green velour lounge, and Mrs T‘s ciggies on the coffee table next to the ash tray. Homey.
‘How you been?’ he asked, as he watched her pull cold meat out of the fridge.
‘Oh, you know,’ she smiled. ‘Be nice if it would rain. A bit of green grass would cheer us all up a bit.’
‘Tell me about it,’ said Kaydon. ‘I got caught in that dust storm yesterday, nearly blinded me.’
‘I haven’t seen it this bad ever, but it’s gotta rain sooner or later.’
‘You coming to the Easter Ball?’ he asked, trying to talk about more cheerful things.
‘Only if you promise me a dance,’ she said. ‘I know there’s always a bit of a queue. You’re the only fella who knows what to do with his feet.’
‘It’ll cost you,’ he grinned.
‘Name your price.’
‘Some green tomato pickle,’ he said.
Mrs T went to the cupboard and pulled out an enormous two-litre jar. She placed it on the kitchen bench. ‘You got yourself a deal,’ she said.
‘I’ll need one of Dad’s trucks to get it home,’ he laughed.
Mrs T piled the stack of sandwiches into an old icecream container. She walked him out to the shed. ‘Take the ute.’
The old Hilux’s door creaked and the gearstick had a number eight billiard ball on top. Mrs T’s two terriers immediately jumped in and started manically sniffing for rats.
Kaydon bounced across the paddock. Although Dan’s place was larger than Rockleigh, the country was a lot poorer and there was no permanent water. It relied on groundwater, which often dried up in times of prolonged drought. Dan’s dad used to drive the cattle up the stock route in dry times and water them on the river.
He got to the yards and beeped the horn. ‘Pizza delivery,’ he yelled out the window.
‘Better not be lying,’ said Dan, putting a pair of wirecutters in his shorts pocket and wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve. ‘I’m starving.’ The weight of the cutters pulled his shorts, revealing red jocks and a bony hip. Dan had stick-like limbs that made his boots look like clown shoes. The footy socks didn’t help.
Kaydon got out and handed him the sandwiches. ‘Pizza sandwiches; they’ve got salami on them.’
He looked around. Dan’s horse was in the yards and it was painfully thin. It was his good polocrosse mare, hardly recognisable from the sleek red machine he’d campaigned on last year. The yards weren’t too bad, though – only a few rails had come down. The rest would do for a muster.
Kaydon grabbed the wirecutters and began undoing a railing that had been wired to a post. There was a chainsaw on the ground. He would notch it in properly.
‘Dad’s got a new partner,’ he said, as he wrestled with the wire.
‘Your folks have split up?’ Dan choked through his sandwich. ‘Geez, your poor mum!’
‘No, dipstick. A business partner. Dad’s hocked Rockleigh to buy a new place. You know that weed-fest up the stock route, called Glenvale?’
Dan stopped chewing for a moment. ‘Hocked the kingdom, eh? When did that happen?’
‘The deal’s going through on Monday. I don’t like the guy.’
‘Why not?’
Kaydon shrugged. ‘Just don’t like him. I don’t reckon Dad does either.’
Kaydon started the chainsaw and with two swift cuts he made a notch in the post and sat it in the fencepost groove.
Dan watched him work. ‘Sure you don’t wanna do the heist? It’s all set up.’
Kaydon shook his head. ‘I’ve got too much to lose, especially now. So do you.’
Dan laughed. ‘Yeah, all this.’ He looked around at the dilapidated yards and the bone-dry paddocks. A couple of skinny cows grazed nearby.
Kaydon drilled a hole through the rail. ‘Has your dad’s life insurance come through yet?’
Dan snorted. ‘Don’t even talk about it. There was no rollbar on the tractor; they’re never gonna pay Mum. They’re just cruel.’
‘Keep fighting it,’ he said.
‘If they don’t pay her out soon, the bank’ll probably take the place anyway. Not that I care. But Mum’ll be devo.’
Kaydon drilled a matching hole in the post while Dan kept talking. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to go back to school and just leave Mum here. Look at the place – the stock haven’t been mustered since Dad died. Half the fences are down. There’s no water in the creek. God knows what the cattle are drinking, half of them have probably shot through to the Pilliga.’ He put his head in his hands.
Kaydon finished bolting the rail into place and threw the tools in the back of the ute. ‘Let’s go check the water points.’ He slipped into the cabin of the ute and took the wheel.
Dan stared into his empty icecream container.
‘Come on,’ Kaydon urged.
The gates were all open and Kaydon bumped the ute along a dirt track that followed the fenceline. He reached into his top pocket as he drove. ‘Mum said to give you these.’
Dan grinned when he saw what they were. He loved a party. He took the tickets from Kaydon. ‘Who you stuck with this year?’
Kaydon couldn’t help a self-satisfied smile. ‘You wait till you see my date.’
‘Hot?’
He grinned. ‘Stunning.’
Dan gave a disbelieving snort. ‘Who?’
‘Dad’s new partner has a daughter who’s a model.’ Well, she would be soon.
Dan looked unimpressed. ‘How’d the poor girl get stuck with you?’
‘Just lucky, I guess,’ said Kaydon, leaning one elbow out the window as he drove.
‘Your mum must have paid her.’
‘No way, she was keen, real keen.’
Dan blew a huge sceptical raspberry.
>
‘She was,’ Kaydon insisted. He adjusted the side mirror and made a performance of running his hand admiringly through his hair. Then he winked at Dan. ‘She’s a smart girl; knows quality when she sees it.’
‘There’s some pink-eye powder in the back,’ Dan drawled. ‘You wanna give it to her? She’s got something wrong with her eyes.’
‘Nothing wrong with her eyes, mate.’
Dan paused thoughtfully for a moment while Kaydon steered the ute towards a windmill in the distance. ‘Bet she wouldn’t make out with you.’
‘How much do you wanna bet?’ said Kaydon.
‘You don’t kiss her on the night, you gotta come grain-heisting with me.’
Kaydon scoffed. ‘And if I do?’
‘I won’t go. I’ll stay home and behave myself.’
One kiss with Chrissy, how hard could that be? Technically it could just be a peck on the cheek. A polite goodbye kiss. A mwah mwah-type thing on both cheeks. ‘Done deal,’ said Kaydon.
‘There’s gotta be tongues,’ said Dan, as though reading his mind. ‘And witnesses.’
That upped the stakes. But Kaydon wasn’t going to back out now. ‘Yeah, whatever.’
An aching bellow cut through the conversation and across the paddock Kaydon saw a mound of red hide floundering in a muddy waterhole. A large beast lay bogged in a clumsy heap with its front legs folded underneath itself. Its eyes rolled wildly as it struggled again.
Kaydon brought the ute to a stop. ‘One of yours?’ He noticed it was a cleanskin, unbranded.
‘Scrubber,’ said Dan. ‘Came down from the hill country to find water. Must be dry up there, they hardly ever come this close to the homestead.’
Kaydon looked at the size of its horns. ‘Got a gun?’
‘I got a chain, we’ll pull him out.’
‘Don’t reckon he’ll have real good manners.’
‘Well, I don’t have a gun and I’m not letting him die in there,’ said Dan. ‘It’s the only drinking water the stock have and it’ll go rank.’ He hopped out, waded through knee-deep mud and looped the chain over its neck. Then he looped it around the bullbar.
Kaydon reversed slowly, sucking the beast out of the mud hole, out to the middle of the paddock.
The bull let out an indignant bellow, struggled a bit and then flopped its head back into the ground. Dan put his foot on its neck and pushed. ‘I think it’s buggered,’ he yelled to Kaydon, before reaching down and taking the chain off.
Proving him wrong, the beast erupted off the ground without warning and staggered to its feet.
‘Holy crap!’ Kaydon fumbled for the keys and tried to start the engine.
The bull gave a deranged bellow and tilted its head towards Dan.
Kaydon turned the keys in the ignition but it wouldn’t start.
Dan moved as if someone had lit a fire under him, hightailing it back to the ute while the bull lowered its head and gave chase. He reached the door of the ute and dived into the cabin just as half a tonne of roaring feral beef connected with it. The side panel crumpled.
Kaydon swore as the entire ute threatened to lift off two wheels and roll.
‘Drive!’ Dan squealed.
‘I’m trying!’ screamed Kaydon. He turned the key again and this time the engine turned over a few times before dying again. He swore.
The bull took a step back and aimed again. Dan flung his arms around Kaydon’s neck and roared in fright. It collided again, got a horn stuck inside the cabin and started twisting and shaking it head.
Kaydon grabbed a torch off the dashboard, leaned across Dan and began hitting it over the head. ‘Old scrubber,’ he cursed. ‘Should have just shot you.’
It gave another shake of its head and managed to unhook itself. It trotted away with its tail in the air. Dan looked at Kaydon with his arms around his neck. His face was lit with humour. ‘Have I told you I love you lately?’
‘Get off,’ Kaydon yelled and shoved his friend away, only making him laugh harder.
The afternoon grew hotter and hotter. They stopped as they went, fixing fences and adjusting water valves, patching leaky pipes and pulling dead frogs out of drainholes. There was no wind to run the windmill, so they direct-fed some water into the trough while a mob of skeletal red cattle bustled for a drink.
‘Poor things,’ Kaydon mumbled. He hadn’t seen conditions this bad in his lifetime.
‘So dry,’ was all Dan said.
Later they saw the feral bull standing on a hillside and Dan threw rocks at it. ‘Look what you did to my ute!’ he yelled at it.
They got back to the house as the night closed around them.
Bron picked Kaydon up and he sat in her car with a two-litre pot of green tomato pickle on his lap, worrying. He didn’t envy Dan’s situation at all. But at least his friend could still laugh. As he stared out the window watching the white lines slip by, he thought about the deal he’d made.
How had he managed to bet on kissing Chrissy Parker?
13
Holly woke feeling tired. All night the sound of bawling cattle had kept her awake. She flipped out of bed and helped herself to breakfast. As she sat at the small table eating cereal, her father stepped into the kitchen. Jake and Brandon followed him in, stooping to fit through the door, and last came Eva.
‘What’s going on?’ Holly said. ‘Is this a family meeting or something?’
Her mum appeared from the bedroom and put her hands on Eva’s shoulders. ‘I’m going to Sydney to have some tests done.’
Holly felt suddenly cold. Mum wouldn’t have called everyone in here if this wasn’t serious. ‘Is this about the stomach pains you’ve been getting?’ she asked.
Her mum nodded.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ asked Jake.
‘They don’t know. That’s why I have to go down to Sydney.’
‘Can’t you see a doctor nearer here?’ asked Holly. ‘Sydney is a whole day’s drive.’
‘No, I need to see an oncologist,’ said her mum in a voice so tiny Holly barely caught it. She looked out the window, as though she couldn’t face her children.
‘Isn’t that a cancer doctor?’ Holly whispered.
‘They found some sort of growth and recommended a biopsy. It might just be nothing,’ Mum said.
‘Is Dad going too?’
‘No. He has to stay here with the boys and work.’
‘Can I come?’ asked Holly.
‘No, I need you to stay here and take care of the family for me.’
Holly felt her heart sag.
Eva squeezed her mum tightly. ‘What about me?’
‘You’d be bored stiff sitting in a waiting room, little one, and there would be no one to take care of you.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ said Brandon. ‘No way are you going alone.’
Holly was relieved when her father agreed. ‘I think that’s a good idea.’
Mum shook her head. ‘You have to help your father start on the building site.’
‘I’m sure Dad’ll cope fine.’
‘I’ll take you to the train station this morning,’ her dad said firmly. ‘Brandon, pack some things.’
‘Maybe we should just move back to Blue Gum Flats?’ said Holly. ‘The job’s been delayed here anyway.’
‘There’s no work on the coast. Besides, I have a building contract to fulfil. We’ll have to stay here for the moment. Once we know what treatment Mum needs, we’ll work out what to do.’
Later that morning, Holly carried her mum’s case to the truck for her. ‘This is just for a few days, right?’
‘Yes, if all goes well.’ Mum stopped and cupped her hands around Holly’s face. ‘It’s very easy to imagine the worst with these things, babe. But it could be nothing; cysts, old scar tissue, anything.’
Holly nodded.
‘Try not to trash the place while I’m gone. You’ve got two weeks holidays before home-schooling starts. You may as well try and enjoy the place. Go for a walk.’
; Holly briefly wondered if the growth had entered her mother’s brain. Enjoy this place? It was a wasteland.
Marley whimpered and Mum dropped on one knee to give her a hug. ‘Good girl, you take care of everyone, okay?’
Later, Holly sat in the tractor shed with all sorts of images whirling through her mind, of her mother with no hair and a gaunt face. Would she need chemo? The thought of Mum being sick turned her inside out. The thought of being so far away from her while she went through it was even worse.
Pieces of pain slowly knitted together and became one aching, numb sorrow. By the afternoon, she was fed up with feeling miserable. ‘Let’s take Penny for a walk,’ she suggested to Eva. Maybe Mum was right. A walk would clear her head. ‘We might see a koala.’
Holly walked alongside as Eva rode Penny away from the shack, and Jake followed with a small fishing-tackle box. Marley trotted after them, panting, as they made their way along a sloping hillside. The waving, rustling grasses brought the land to life with motion and sound. They stood on the top of the hill, between land and sky, earth and heaven; the space in between the two infinitely big and open.
‘I can see the river,’ said Eva, pointing to a line of trees in the distance.
‘Let’s go,’ said Holly, breaking into a run. It felt good to stretch her muscles and make her chest heave for air.
‘Race you,’ Jake yelled, sprinting past her.
The riverbed contained more sand than water.
‘Look, a beach,’ said Jake. He ripped off his shirt, scrunched it up and lay down with the shirt behind his head like a pillow.
‘Damn, I forgot my boogie board,’ said Holly in a droll voice. She sat next to him and stared at the limp trickle of brown water that flowed past her toes. Marley dropped her belly into the water and lay there cooling herself while she lapped at the water. Eva let Penny stretch down and take a drink.
Holly ripped off her shirt, shimmied out of her shorts and lay back in her underwear, sunbaking. She closed her eyes, listened to the wind moving through the willow trees above and whispering over her skin, and tried to imagine she was at the beach.
The sun felt good. She pushed her feet down through the sand into the warm water. For a moment she stopped fretting about her mum’s health. It was intensely peaceful. Her aching for home eased and her soul filled with something new.