Country At Heart

by Mandy Magro

  Although many were warm-hearted, the Afghans were certainly tough people and disputes over land, animals and women – in that order – were often sorted out with AK-47s or Dooshka heavy machine guns. Women were at the bottom of society’s chain and young girls were even forbidden to attend school under Taliban rule. It was a common occurrence for firebombs to be chucked into any school the government tried to open for both boys and girls, killing most of the children within. It always shattered Dean to have to help sort through the aftermath. He was a tough bloke when he had to be, but children and animals – especially dogs and horses – were his weak spots.

  The convoy had returned to the road as it was the only way to the village now, and they slowed as they hit a choke point. The dusty ochre hills were rapidly closing in on either side as the radio crackled to life, Sergeant Harrison’s commanding voice loud and clear.

  ‘Canine team, you’re up. The ANA engineers are already up front searching the road.’

  Dean and Tommy stood. Dean’s mouth was dry and his heart bashed against his chest. He had laughed in the face of danger many times before, but nothing could have prepared him for what he’d faced in Afghanistan. Being a dog handler and constantly searching for bombs, there was always one question at the back of his mind, taunting him: Would he be killed today? Swallowing down his fear, he attached the leash on his belt to Indy.

  ‘Righto, my girl, let’s get to it.’

  Tommy jumped down first and Dean waited patiently for his mate to get himself and his German Shepherd, Rebel, sorted. He couldn’t risk Indy and Rebel getting playful together out here, even though the dogs were the best of mates. With Rebel attached to his leash, Tommy gave Dean the thumbs up and Dean jumped out of the back of the Land Rover with Indy right behind him.

  Tommy squinted into the sun as he gave his mate the once over, watching intently as Dean shifted nervously from one foot to the other. ‘Shit, you’re keyed up today, Dean. It’s not like you to be anxious – you’re normally the one telling me to chill out.’

  Dean shrugged as he pulled a coin from his pocket. ‘Dunno, just one of them days, mate.’ He held the coin up. ‘Heads or tails?’

  ‘Heads.’

  The coin flipped three times before Dean caught it, revealing the outcome straight faced. ‘Looks like you’re up first today, buddy.’

  ‘Shit it! I thought my luck was gonna run out soon. Three missions since I’ve had to go first, so about time I s’pose.’ Tommy shuddered as he turned around and stepped forward, calling over his shoulder while Rebel pulled at the leash like a freight train. ‘But keep your nerves to yourself, buddy, they’re bloody contagious.’

  Dean watched Tommy and Rebel walk down the rutted dirt road that had the occasional bit of plucky scrub poking through. He ignored the beads of sweat dripping into his eyes. The forty-degree heat was suffocating. Fear once again threatened to overcome him, but he chose not to feed its predatory hunger. Pull yourself together, man! With about twenty metres between him and Tommy, Dean set off. The baked dirt crunched beneath his boots as he walked into the danger zone, well aware all eyes were on him from the stationary line of vehicles.

  ‘Fuck, girl, I hope we don’t miss anything today.’

  Indy gave him a look that said, ‘As if!’ and Dean couldn’t help but smile.

  Up front, the Afghan minesweepers the Australian Army engineers had helped train were busy checking for booby traps along the hot, shadeless road. The poor buggers constantly feared for their lives, if not from an explosion then at the hands of their own people: if the Taliban captured them, they would either be tortured with knives then burnt to death, or have their eyes cut out before they were beheaded or hanged. The Taliban didn’t take traitors to their beliefs lightly, especially those who aided their ultimate enemies, the soldiers.

  After a few metres, Dean unclipped the leash and Indy quivered with anticipation, waiting for her command to begin searching. The mind of a soldier and the nose of a trained sniffer dog was a formidable bomb-finding force and Dean was confident they were going to have plenty of work today.

  ‘Seek!’ Dean ordered. With her tail up and her nose to the ground, Indy obeyed her master, bustling along as she quartered the road in an organised zigzag fashion. Dean kept up with her, his F88 Steyr rifle at the ready, the forty kilos of body armour, ammunition and other combat gear attached to him not slowing him down one bit. He anticipated Indy’s every move, reading her body language, perfectly attuned after a year of working with her; understanding, respect and friendship bonding them on a unique level. Ahead of them, Rebel and Tommy were doing the same. Indy, like other Australian Army dogs, was trained to work off lead and she responded to Dean’s voice commands and hand signals as she roamed ahead. She had more freedom of movement that way and, in the tragic event she accidentally tripped a booby trap or IED, there was some distance between her and Dean.

  Coming to a sudden stop, Indy indicated something of great interest by sniffing and wagging her tail enthusiastically, never taking her eyes from the patch of dirt. She lay down, still staring at the spot, ears pricked. Dean stopped walking, his breath held, watching her; rightly assuming that every man in the vehicles behind had their breaths held too. Indy’s wagging tail kicked up a cloud of dust as she panted heavily from the heat and excitement, unaware that her life was in danger. For Dean, everything was silent and moving in slow motion. Hair and uniform stiff with dust and sweat, he called her back, short and quick, his voice hushed yet enthusiastic. ‘Come back, girl, come back!’

  Indy rushed to his side and he proudly rubbed her head. ‘Good girl, my good girl.’ Pulling a green and gold squishy ball from his pocket, he passed it to her and she sank her teeth into it, the ball squeaking with every bite.

  With Indy content and by his side again, Dean turned to check on Tommy. At the same time, Indy dropped the ball and whimpered.

  Boom!

  Sixty metres ahead, a black fountain of dirt and rock erupted, followed by the pungent smell of gutted earth, as though the ground was bleeding after having the life ripped out of it. Screams of pain and trepidation filled the turbulent air as dirt, grit, sand and chunks of rock rained down upon Dean, and a thick spiral of smoke twisted into the blue sky. Was that Tommy he could hear screaming? Dean blindly reached for Indy and gathered her to his side, swiftly clipping the leash on his belt to her collar.

  Boom! Boom!

  Two more colossal explosions followed off to the left. The Taliban certainly hadn’t wasted a minute in welcoming the convoy. The bastards! Bullets started coming in like a swarm of angry wasps, landing behind him, zinging and pinging off rocks and boulders, puffs of dust and vegetation flying around his running feet. Indy stuck close to him, growling as if to protect him. He had to get her to safety; she was an easy target out here. Ducking and weaving, he ran as bullets continued to crack into the hillside behind. Dust spiralled around him like spinning devils, filling his eyes with grit and making it impossible for him to see clearly.

  There was a distant thump and more black smoke billowed upwards as a body slammed down beside him. Cries of pure agony filled Dean’s ears as he rushed to the person’s side, ignoring the fact he was still in the line of fire. Oh dear God, please don’t be Tommy. Down on all fours and with the dust clearing, the sight before him made him heave: the Afghan minesweeper had had his legs and half an arm blown clean off. The man reached for him with his good hand, but as Dean fumbled for a first-aid dressing taped to his harness, the Afghan cried out and his body shook violently as death stole his last breath.

  Gathering Indy to his side protectively, Dean tried to stand, still avoiding bullets. Two Afghan minesweepers ran past him, crying out in pain, one with blood pouring from his ears and nose, and the other with his arm missing from the elbow down. The intercom radio was squawking with urgent conversation, the joint terminals’ attack controller calling in the Apaches for much needed air support. At the same time, Dean could hear the crump crump of mortar rounds leaving
their tubes in the rocky hills.

  ‘Incoming mortars!’ someone yelled from the Bushmaster parked in front of him.

  The chaos of enclosing gunfire, mortars, grenade bursts and panicked shouting assaulted Dean’s senses. His pounding heart matched his strides as he ran for the safety of the Bushmaster, diving in with Indy in his arms. She whimpered and Dean buried her head in his embrace.

  ‘It’s okay, girl, it’s all going to be okay.’ Tucking Indy into a safe corner of the Bushmaster, he joined his comrades in a battle to defend their lives, wishing every second that he could believe his words to her. Tommy, his best mate of twenty years, was out in this bedlam somewhere. And because of the Taliban’s gunfire, Dean couldn’t get to him to see if he needed medical assistance. Please, God, don’t let him be dead.

  No, things weren’t okay, and by the looks of it, they were only going to get worse.

  CHAPTER

  2

  ‘I can’t believe it, Fi! We’ve made it to the end! We can finally say we’re university graduates.’ Summer Milton pirouetted gracefully, her long, straw-coloured locks floating around her face. ‘Ah, now I can open my very own yoga and meditation studio!’

  Fiona Stanton wrapped her arms around her best friend’s waist, throwing her off balance and sending both giggling twenty-three year olds tumbling to the floor of their dorm room. She propped herself up on her elbow, her black bob bouncing, and feigned annoyance as she pointed. ‘Summer Marie Milton, no daughter of mine is going to be a yoga teacher!’ she said in a deep voice. ‘I’m the mayor of Edens Edge, how do you think that would make me look? For Christ’s sake, everyone will think you’re a Goddamn hippy! I didn’t pay all this money for you to go to university, only for you to waste it on some adolescent dream! It’s about time you grew up, girl, and started acting your age.’

  Summer giggled and rolled her eyes as she playfully slapped Fiona’s hand away. Fiona was always so spot on when she mimicked Donald Milton. Summer’s father could be a very hard man, and ruthless in business, but somewhere underneath all his bravado, Summer knew he loved her. Sadly, he just didn’t know how to show it very well.

  Flopping backwards, she stared at the ceiling, finding herself momentarily preoccupied by its desperate need for a lick of paint. ‘Argh, my father is so annoying. Why can’t he just accept that his daughter is not going to become an accountant? I mean, could you imagine me, of all people, punching numbers all day long? I’d die a long, slow, painful death!’ She threw her arms in the air dramatically. ‘I’m a creature of creativeness, a lover of the spiritual way of life, my soul needs to feel free!’ She laughed, still on a high after graduating that morning.

  Fiona collapsed back with Summer on the floor, their laughter eventually subsiding. Both girls lay for a few moments, the only noise the ticking of a clock above the doorway where their overstuffed bags stood.

  Fiona sighed. ‘I’m a bit scared now that I know I’ve got to head out into the big wide world to begin teaching. What if the kids at Edens Primary don’t like me?’

  ‘Ah, don’t be silly, Fi. Everyone loves you, and the kids will too.’ Summer rolled onto her stomach, propped her elbows up and rested her chin on her hands, blowing a blonde strand from her twinkling electric-blue eyes. ‘Part of me is nervous too, having to go out and prove I can make it on my own, but on the other hand I can’t wait to open my yoga studio. I didn’t do an entire year at the Yoga Institute in Mumbai just to waste it.’

  ‘Yeah, you sneaky bugger, telling your parents you were over in India holidaying when the entire time you were learning from your Indian guru. I can’t believe you got away with it.’ Fiona grinned.

  ‘I know, I was a little freaked out that Dad would catch on, but he didn’t. Thank God. Anyway, what does he expect? I’ve been doing yoga since I was a teenager and he knows how much I love it. And now old Leslie Ahern has retired there’s nowhere back home to go if you want to learn yoga.’ Summer smiled dreamily. ‘I want to teach everyone from kids right through to eager eighty-year-olds how to free their minds, bodies and spirits of all this stress we needlessly live with these days. As I always tell you, Fi, meditation is magic!’ Summer frowned when she spotted Fi’s unconvinced gaze. ‘And Dad isn’t going to stop me either. I won’t let him. I did what he wanted and went to this mind-numbing university and now it’s my turn to do what I want in my life, I reckon. Don’t you agree, Fi?’

  ‘Yup, of course I agree with you, but … how are you going to afford it, Sums?’

  Summer fluttered her hand through the air. ‘Argh, money shmunny, where there’s a will there’s a way. And I will find a way! I’ve still got my ten-thousand-dollar inheritance from Pop in the bank, bless him, which I get when I turn twenty-four. And Dad hasn’t got a say in what I spend that on seeing as it was Mum’s father who left it to me.’

  Fiona smiled. ‘We all know how determined you are when you set your mind to something, so I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll achieve your dream, my gorgeous friend.’ She wriggled her eyebrows. ‘Thank goodness for your pop, at least you don’t have to resort to selling your sassy body to get the studio up and running.’

  Summer gasped, and then light-heartedly slapped Fiona on the arm. ‘Fi, you know I would never think of that.’

  Fiona huffed light-heartedly. ‘I know, I know, just kidding!’

  ‘I’m not even the type to sleep around, I just don’t see the point of it. That time I tried it with you-know-who I didn’t like it – at all! It just felt so wrong.’ Summer rolled onto her back again. ‘Next time I get naked with a bloke I want it to be because I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him, not just because everyone else is doing it for a bit of fun.’

  ‘You’re waiting for your knight in shining armour to come along and sweep you off your feet … blah blah blah … and that’s if he even exists!’ She gave Summer a challenging look, Summer’s silent reply of the forks making her giggle. ‘You honestly don’t know what you’re missing out on, Sums. Casual sex is great fun! I say get it when you can!’ Fiona licked her lips and fluttered her long eyelashes, trying to act all sexy but failing miserably.

  Summer grinned. ‘You’re a tart!’

  Fiona gave her the finger. ‘Yeah, but at least I’m a sweet tart!’

  Summer shoved her friend playfully as she stood. ‘Come on, toots, let’s hit the road, we got ourselves a holiday to enjoy before we have to worry about where our lives are heading. And I can’t wait to get to the beach house to see Fonzie. Mum and Dad dropped the little scoundrel off there this morning. It’s been months since I saw him last.’

  ‘Nawww, little Fonzie, he’s such a character. I reckon we should buy him a leather jacket one day, and maybe even a studded collar, he’ll certainly suit them with his “I’m so tough” attitude!’ Fiona leapt up from the floor, jiggling on the spot, her massive boobs almost popping out of her tight top. ‘Woo hoo, I can’t wait to hit the beach and I can’t believe your Dad has agreed for us to have his beach house for some of the summer holidays and to ourselves … What’s gotten into him?’

  Summer grabbed the handle of her bag, groaning as she tried to pick up what felt like a ten-tonne bundle. ‘One word I reckon – Mum!’

  ‘I love your mum. She’s a star. We better be good or he won’t let us ever have it again, though.’

  ‘Pfft, being good is boring!’ Summer winked and Fiona grinned wickedly.

  ‘And then, after New Year’s, you are going to be my flatmate whether you like it or not, Miss Milton …’ Fiona did a happy dance. ‘… Phillip is so excited that you’re going to be moving in with us. Actually, I reckon he’s almost more excited than me – if that’s possible!’

  ‘Oh bless Phillip. I reckon he’s been so much happier since he came out of the closet, and I just adore his boyfriend. Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask, is your dad handling the fact his only son is gay a little better now?’

  Fiona shrugged. ‘Yes and no, but he’ll get there. He doe
sn’t have a choice really.’

  ‘Very true,’ Summer said, slipping on her Havaianas. ‘And of course I’d love to be your flatmate, toots! I’ve told you that a million times already. I’m just worried the casual job Phillip’s so kindly given me at his health food café won’t be enough to cover my rent and stuff.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sums, it will. We can live by candlelight and on two-minute noodles if need be.’ She threw an arm around Summer’s shoulder. ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way, my beautiful mate.’

  Summer screwed her face up. ‘No way am I living on two-minute noodles, it’ll be vegetable stir fries all the way if we can’t afford meat. Anyway, Phillip wouldn’t hear of eating anything that’s out of a packet. Another plus of living with you two – he’s as hell bent on eating fresh, wholesome food as I am.’

  ‘Tell me about it … you pair are gonna drive me nuts!’ Fiona squeezed Summer’s cheeks affectionately. ‘But that’s okay, you little health freak, I love ya regardless, and as long as we all stick together, we’ll be right. You’re like the sister I never had, Sums.’

  Summer threw her arms around Fiona and gave her a squeeze. ‘Ditto, Fi.’

  Chatting excitedly, the two girls headed out to the lift and down to the car, saying their goodbyes to mates along the way, both eager to begin their summertime adventures.

  With the top down on her silver Mini Cooper convertible – a twenty-first birthday present from her parents – Summer enjoyed the sultry wind flicking her long hair about her face and the glorious sunshine kissing her already olive skin. Breathing in deeply, she relished the smell of the salty air and the sight of frothy waves crashing against a pristine sandy shore as she drove along the coastline towards her hometown, the picturesque seaside township of Edens Edge. It was a ninety-minute drive north from James Cook University, where she’d spent three long years of her life, and she couldn’t wait to shrug off the suburbs and instead be at her parents’ holiday home, surrounded by horse paddocks, uninterrupted cane fields, fruit farms and lush, rolling mountains, and all with the calming sounds of the beach at her doorstep. Edens Edge was such a beautifully diverse area, with the beach on one side of the town and the towering Hideaway Mountain ranges on the other.