‘Darcy!’ Tess hissed at her brother.
‘It’s okay,’ said Sam bleakly. ‘The doctor said he’s got a really good chance with this operation, ’cause he’s strong and healthy. Mum went down with him on the plane.’
‘So how’d it happen?’ Darcy asked.
George answered him: ‘A tree fell on the schoolroom last night – we had a big storm out there – and they were trying to get it off with the tractor, but something went wrong and Dad got hit by the tree. It kind of fell on him somehow, and he got hurt. And Charles was there, in a helicopter, so he flew Dad and Mum to the hospital straight away.’
‘Charles was there? How come?’ asked Tess.
‘He’s got some new job, with Customs,’ said Sam. ‘He was flying around looking for illegal boats coming ashore, you know, illegal immigrants, and he saw a boat down at Deception Point.’
George took up the story. ‘We’d already found it, when we were out checking the fence lines with Dad and Uncle Mungo. We found bits of stuff washed up on the beach, and then Sam saw the boat out on the reef. Or what was left of it. It’s pretty wrecked.’
Tess and Darcy absorbed this information, and then Darcy asked incredulously, ‘A tree fell on the schoolroom?’
‘Yeah,’ said George, his characteristic good humour resurfacing momentarily. ‘Squashed it as flat as a tack. I was hoping it might’ve been blown away, but this is even better …’ He was quiet then, a bit horrified at what he’d just said. ‘Well, you know …’
The others nodded mutely.
‘Yeah,’ said Tess, ‘we better let you get to sleep. Mum said we can stay home with you tomorrow, too. C’mon, Darce.’
Sam nodded, and when the door closed softly behind them, he switched off the light. George was quiet for a few moments, and then turned towards his brother. ‘Sam? Everything’s gunna be different now, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Sam, his throat getting tight. ‘I just don’t know.’
At breakfast, Aunty Lou chattered on at Sam and George about how brave they were being, and how they were not to worry. ‘Mac’s a big strong man, he’ll get through this, you’ll see. And he’s got Sarah down there with him, and all of us up here thinking about him. All that positive energy is going to help him. We all have to think positive thoughts and send all that good energy to him …’ She burbled away while they pushed cereal around their plates, neither of them really paying any attention.
The back door opened, and Uncle Mungo’s big frame blocked out the sunlight. ‘Mornin’ fellers, Lou.’ He nodded at Tess and Darcy as if he couldn’t remember their names. He took off his hat when he came in, and stood awkwardly by the sink, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. In spite of how miserable he felt, Sam was intrigued. Where was the big, grumpy, opinionated man who had argued with everyone when he was out at Brumby Plains? Sam felt a rush of pity for him. He doesn’t really know anyone here except me and George, he thought. He must be really worried about Dad, just like I would be about George, poor bloke.
Sam lifted the teapot. ‘Hey, Uncle Mungo, want a cup of tea?’
Uncle Mungo looked for all the world like he was about to cry, but he didn’t. He sat down at the table as Sam poured a mug of tea and slid the milk and sugar across the table to him.
‘I’ve been out for a walk. Woke up early and couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk along the beach. Pretty place, this,’ he said to no one in particular.
‘Oh, Fannie Bay is just gorgeous,’ said Aunty Lou. ‘It’s right on a ley line, you know? A meridian of energy runs right through the area, and the rocks are really powerful energy beacons. I’ve lived here for years now, and I can just feel the power vibrating around me every time I go down to the beach. There is something about living near the sea, too, all those negative ions …’
She carried on like this to Uncle Mungo for another few minutes. Darcy rolled his eyes at Sam and George, who made sure they kept their eyes on their cereal bowls.
‘Oh dear, look at the time! I better get ready for work.’ And with that she disappeared down the hallway.
Uncle Mungo sipped his tea, and then set the mug down on the table. ‘I guess we might hear somethin’ from ’em today, hey, once the surgeons have had a look at him. Yer mum’ll keep us posted.’ He picked his mug up again, and stared into it for a few moments. ‘Yeah, they won’t be home anytime too soon. Once we know somethin’, I reckon we’ll go back to Brumby Plains and keep things goin’ for Mac. It’ll make him feel better, knowin’ things are still goin’ on at home. And we have to finish repairin’ the fences too …’
George piped up, ‘Tess and Darcy are coming out for the holidays. Maybe they can come out now and give us a hand?’
Uncle Mungo looked a bit shocked at the thought of two extra kids to look after, but Tess stepped in immediately. ‘That’s right, Uncle Mungo,’ she said brightly. ‘We’ve done all kinds of work out there before – and lots of fencing. We really could help, you know.’ She paused for a moment. ‘And, well, Dad’s gone away again just now, so it’d be easier for Mum if we went out with you guys.’
Sam looked up at Tess. Something in her voice didn’t sound right. And what did she mean by ‘Dad’s gone away again …’?
‘Well, I don’t know. I s’pose there’s Jaz and Old Jock to help look after you all. And it might be good for these two lads to have some company while their parents are away.’ He considered a moment, and then nodded his head. ‘Yeah, it’s a good idea. I’ll tell yer mum.’
And he disappeared out of the kitchen to look for Aunty Lou.
‘He makes his mind up quick, doesn’t he!’ grinned Tess. ‘I hope he’s as good at convincing Mum.’
‘Hey, d’you reckon he’ll mind if I bring Horrible out with me?’ said Darcy anxiously. ‘Mum won’t feed her.’ Horrible was Darcy’s pet snake, a metre long green tree snake that his father had brought back for him from a business trip to north Queensland a few months earlier. Horrible was bright green, with magnificent yellow markings along her back, and Darcy was totally in love with her. Tess liked Horrible too, but their mother barely tolerated her, and insisted she live out in the shed in the backyard. Darcy sneaked her into the house as often as he could.
‘Yeah, bring her out!’ said George enthusiastically. ‘Uncle Mungo won’t even know. It’s not like she’s noisy or anything.’
Aunty Lou agreed that, seeing as it was almost the end of term and there were still some responsible adults at the station, Tess and Darcy could go back with them: ‘Only till Mac and Sarah come home, mind. They won’t want four of you underfoot when they get back from Adelaide.’
Sam hoped it would be so quick, but privately he doubted that his father would be coming home anytime soon. He didn’t know much about injuries and backs, but he was pretty sure that something as serious as a fractured spine would take a bit longer than a school holiday to fix. If it can be fixed, said a small voice inside his head.
That evening there was a phone call from Sarah. She spoke to Aunty Lou for a few minutes, and then to Uncle Mungo. Sam and George hovered close by, trying to overhear, or to gauge by the expressions on their faces what was being said. Finally it was their turn.
‘Mum?’ said Sam breathlessly, sharing the phone with George, their heads touching above the receiver.
‘Sam – hi, sweetheart. Is George there too?’
‘Yeah, I’m right here, Mum,’ answered George.
‘The surgeons operated on Dad this morning. It took about seven hours, but they think they were successful. They won’t know for a few days, till they do some tests, but it looks good.’
Sam could hear the tension in her voice. ‘Are you okay, Mum?’
‘Yeah. I’m pretty tired, that’s all. Haven’t had any sleep, but I will tonight. The worst is over, I think. We can all relax a little bit. Now we just have to wait for Dad to recover from the operation and then see what happens next.’
‘Mum, how long will you be away?’ Georg
e was trying hard not to sound like a little kid, but that was how he felt.
‘Oh, honey, I don’t know. I need to stay here with Dad till we know what’s happening. It’ll be a week at least, I think. Will you be okay?’
George swallowed hard, and said, ‘Course we will. We’re gunna go back home and get everything right for Dad, so he doesn’t have to worry. Uncle Mungo said we’ll leave tomorrow. And Tess and Darcy are coming out to help.’
‘That’s great news. I’m really glad they’re going with you. You guys take care of yourselves though. No heroics, okay? And, Sam?’
‘Yeah, I’m here,’ answered Sam.
‘Look after your Uncle Mungo, won’t you? He’s feeling pretty bad at the moment.’
Sam thought it was a bit odd that he should have to look after his uncle, but he agreed.
They sat around after dinner that evening, watching the news with Aunty Lou and Uncle Mungo. Normally Sam wouldn’t have bothered, but he was too dispirited to do anything else. It was just the usual boring political stuff. However, when the next story started, he sat up and began to take some notice.
‘Flamin’ illegals,’ muttered Uncle Mungo with disgust. ‘Look at ’em. Dunno why we bother with rubbish like detention centres and stuff. Waste of taxpayers’ money.’
The image on the screen was of a group of people behind a high fence, holding on to the wire and staring forlornly through the mesh. There were some small children as well. They all looked desperate and hopeless.
‘… the arrival of two boatloads of people into Darwin last week,’ the voice-over was saying. ‘However, government policy is to send all illegal arrivals into detention offshore at Nauru. If they have reached the mainland, they are sent to one of the detention centres such as Port Hedland, until their status can be verified.’
‘Baloney!’ said Uncle Mungo, louder this time. ‘Blow ’em outta the water before they get here’s what they should do!’
‘Mungo!’ said Aunty Lou, shocked. ‘You can’t really mean that! They’re human beings, the same as us. They’ve gone through hell and high water to get here. I don’t believe people do that just for a better standard of living. They risk their lives to get here!’
‘Well they can sign up with Immigration like the others, and wait their turn. Why should they get special treatment just because they pay someone to ferry ’em in a leaky old boat? You think we should feel sorry fer ’em? Cripes, Lou, they pay a lot of money to get here illegally.’
Aunty Lou stared at Uncle Mungo for a moment, and then said a little more forcefully, ‘Yes, Mungo, I do feel sorry for them. They are running for their lives from desperate situations. Wouldn’t you pay everything you had to save your family from suffering and persecution?’
Uncle Mungo looked a bit startled for a second, as if he had been caught off guard. But he recovered quickly, shrugging and shaking his head: ‘Sorry, Lou, can’t agree with you. We work hard fer what we’ve got. If I had my way, no illegal immigrant’d ever be allowed t’ stay in this country.’
Sam, George, Tess and Darcy went to bed early, anticipating a crack of dawn start for the drive back out to the station the next morning, but Aunty Lou and Uncle Mungo stayed up chatting in the lounge room after bidding them goodnight.
Sam woke up a couple of hours later and, feeling thirsty, got up to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen. As he passed the lounge room, he heard voices coming through the half-open door.
‘… all me fault,’ a gruff voice was sobbing. ‘It’s all me fault. I shouldn’t’ve tried to lift the tree in one go. Mac was all for cuttin’ it in half first, but I reckoned I could lift it off in one go …’
Sam heard a nose blowing noisily into a tissue, and then another voice said, ‘It was an accident, Mungo, an accident. You can’t think like that. It won’t help Mac any if you fall apart. You’ve got to be strong for everyone else now. Those boys need you to be a father figure for them while Mac’s away.’
‘I almost killed their dad, don’t y’ see? If it wasn’t fer me, he’d be okay. He’d be out at Brumby Plains instead of lyin’ in a hospital bed, probably never able to walk again!’
Sam was stunned. Dad’s accident was Uncle Mungo’s fault? Pig-headed, bigoted, argumentative Uncle Mungo? If he hadn’t insisted on doing things his way, Dad wouldn’t be in hospital. As he stood there trying to take it all in, Sam became aware that the voices were still talking.
‘… really good of you t’ talk to me like this, Lou. Especially with all the trouble y’ got right now, too. Mac comin’ on top of Harry like that. Must be pretty hard for ya.’
It was Aunty Lou’s turn to blow her nose noisily. She sniffed a few times, and said, ‘I never really thought he’d leave, you know. Not leave the kids, anyway. We’ve been through a few rough patches, but I thought things would get better. I haven’t told the kids yet, but I think Tess suspects something. It’ll do them good to get out bush for a bit. I haven’t told Sarah either – she’s got enough to think about right now …’
‘No worries, me lips are sealed. Won’t say nothin’ to anyone. You’re a trouper, Lou, a real trouper. Well, thanks for all that. I’ll be off to bed then, better get a good start in the mornin’.’
The sound of a glass being set down on a table and the creak of armchairs as Aunty Lou and Uncle Mungo stood up shook Sam back to reality. He bolted for his bedroom and quietly shut the door. Lying there in the dark, he pondered what he had just overheard.
If Uncle Mungo hadn’t insisted on doing things his way, Dad wouldn’t be in hospital. He’d said so himself! A hot surge of anger welled up inside Sam, and tears pricked his eyes. He wanted to go and punch his uncle, right now! but then he heard his mother’s calm voice telling him just a few hours ago to look after Uncle Mungo. He turned instead to the words he’d heard from Aunty Lou. Poor Tess and Darcy. It sounded like their father had left his family. Sam had always thought Harry was a bit odd, but he never imagined he might do something like this. Everything was a terrible mess, whichever way he looked. He rolled over to try and sleep, resolving not to think about it till the morning, but the image of Uncle Mungo on the tractor, demanding to do things his way, kept intruding into his mind.
Tess and Darcy didn’t come back to Brumby Plains with them the next morning. At the last moment Aunty Lou suddenly remembered that both of them had dental appointments on Friday, and there was no way they could miss them.
‘You’ve been on a waiting list for three months!’ she said when Tess and Darcy protested bitterly. ‘It’ll only mean a couple of days. I’ll drive you out on Saturday morning, I promise. We’ll go to the Parap markets on the way and bring out a heap of food for everyone, okay?’
The first thing Uncle Mungo did when they arrived back at the homestead was to fire up the chainsaw and attack the tree. Branch by branch he stripped it down to its trunk, not taking any chances. He wouldn’t let anyone help him, and grimly ordered the others to stay away. Jaz ushered Sam and George up inside the house to have some lunch.
‘Let him be,’ she said to them. ‘It’s his way of dealing with what happened. He’ll be okay soon.’
Sam didn’t much care if his uncle was ever okay. He had brooded the whole way out to the station, only responding that he was tired when Uncle Mungo tried to start a conversation. He sat on the verandah with George, listening to the screeching and revving of the chainsaw as it reduced the huge tree to a pile of firewood. When the cacophony finally stopped and the silence rushed in, the two boys walked over to the machinery shed and peered around it. Uncle Mungo was sitting on the ground in front of the crushed van, the chainsaw at his side. He had his head in his hands, and his big shoulders shook. Sam motioned to George to come away, and they left him there amidst the piles of wood, sawdust and bark.
After lunch, Uncle Mungo and Old Jock prepared to go out along the fence lines that still needed repairs.
‘What about the Deception Point fence? Dad wanted George and me to fix it the other day.’ Sam stared a
t Uncle Mungo as if daring him to say no.
‘Yeah, I’d forgotten about that.’ He pondered for a moment or two, and turned to Old Jock, who had just come back into the house after loading some fencing gear into the ute. ‘What d’you reckon, Jock, about the lads goin’ out to fix that Deception Point fence line while we do the weaner fence and the other ones?’
Old Jock grinned at Sam and George. ‘These fellas’ll be just fine. Haven’t seen the quad runner yet that could throw ’em!’ He chuckled to himself as he went into the kitchen to make a thermos of tea to take with them. ‘They’ll be fine, Mungo, don’t you worry about them boys!’
Sam and George loaded up some star pickets, wire strainers, tools and fencing wire, and climbed aboard the quad runner. Sam slipped a water bottle and a packet of sandwiches into a saddlebag – fencing was hungry work, according to George, who had been eyeing the leftover cold lamb in the fridge – and they set off down the track towards the Point.
The fence was damaged in several spots where branches had blown against it and snapped wires. The work was easy, and within an hour and a half they were back at the campsite. Sam switched off the ignition and sat on the bike for a while, listening to the tick-tick-tick of the engine as it cooled, and enjoying the sound of nothing. George had already jumped off.
‘C’mon, Sam! Let’s eat those sangers – I’m starving!’
‘You’re always starving,’ said Sam, but he climbed off the bike and wandered over to where George was poking around the old oven. No one knew who had first built it, but it was a proper old baker’s oven, made out of handmade bricks with an iron door set into the space above the firebox. Sarah used it sometimes to cook bread when they camped out here. There was a chimney at one stage, but it had long rusted away, and the smoke escaped though the hole that remained. The last time George had looked in the oven, it was housing a nest of baby bush rats. He opened the door to see if they were still living there.
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