Jilda's Ark

by Verity Croker

  In the television interview, General Stockard says, “First of all, there are approximately one hundred and twenty thousand people who require shelter and food and access to bathrooms. Basically, that is a third again of the current population of Hobart. Every large building in the immediate and greater Hobart area will initially be used for shelter while we sort everyone out.”

  The uniformed man standing behind her nods his head to show agreement. People being interviewed always seem to have “nodders” behind them these days.

  General Stockard continues, “We will have to close the schools for the time being. Once we have processed the numbers and identified the family groups, every resort, hotel, motel, inn, guesthouse, bed-and-breakfast, campground, public space, theater, and school in Tasmania will have to open their doors to those seeking shelter. We will be providing mattresses and bedding in all the large wharf buildings too. We ask any person who is willing to take people into their homes once the paperwork is finalized to contact us, as that will help the situation enormously.”

  Mum, Rosa, and I all exchange glances at this. We already have a full house now with Sheryl and Jade, but we know they probably won’t be staying long. I feel so sad knowing Jade will be leaving me soon. After they do leave, maybe we can help out some others from Levy Archipelago. I haven’t had a chance to tell Mum and Rosa much about Marta and Jonas yet, but I’m sure they’ll be agreeable for them to come and stay with us for a while, once the others have gone back to their respective homes. Not that I want Jade to go anywhere. I wish she could stay with us here forever, or at least in Hobart so I can be near her.

  The general says, “These people are environmental refugees who come in peace from Levy Archipelago. I have spoken to their leader, and he says all they want is to be together in one country, not split up and sent to different countries as they had been offered previously. These people cannot be sent home, as there is virtually no home to go to after the last devastating tsunami that swept across their islands.”

  Behind the general, we can see hundreds of protesters holding up placards and shouting into megaphones similar sayings to what are written on their signs: “Send them back!” and “Not welcome here!” and “Go back to where you came from!” and “They’ll take our jobs!” Some of them are waving Australian flags, and others are shouting, “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie. Oi! Oi! Oi!” It’s the first time I feel ashamed of being an Australian, seeing the lack of welcome these poor people like Marta and Jonas are receiving.

  The general is doing her best to speak over their ruckus. Although she’s interrupted constantly, she continues, determined to get her message across.

  “We must show compassion to these people who have lost their homes due to no fault of their own—only through the force of history that led them to live in such a vulnerable area of the world. The world and all its greed has caused the climate change that has led to the situation we find ourselves in today. We need Tasmanians’ help and cooperation. Your cooperation.”

  We hang on to every word of her long speech.

  The protesters near the general don’t let up, though. They just get increasingly agitated the more she speaks.

  Mum looks at Jade and Sheryl.

  Mum says, “Well, you two are staying here with us anyway, no matter what else the general says, until everything is sorted for you to go back home. You are welcome to stay as long as you have to, or as long as you like.”

  “Thank you so much,” says Sheryl. “But hopefully it won’t take too long to get a flight back to Sydney. I just want to be with my husband. And see my sister.”

  “Thanks,” says Jade. “I’d love that.” She smiles straight at me.

  Zac looks at her, then back at me.

  “I think I’ll go home,” he says.

  He stands up and looks down at me. Any other time in the past I would see him out, so we could have a private goodbye away from prying eyes. But it just seems wrong today.

  “Aren’t you walking me out, Jilda?” he says, sounding hurt.

  I stand up. I owe it to him to talk to him on his own. He has such a wounded expression on his face, and he’s been my boyfriend for almost six months now.

  When we get outside, straightaway he says, “What’s with you and the leso?”

  I’m so glad he called her that, as it makes it so much easier to say what I’m about to say.

  “I don’t think we should be together anymore, Zac.”

  “Why not? Because of her?”

  “Well… I don’t know… maybe….”

  “You’re kidding. You’d rather be with her than me? I don’t believe it.”

  “I don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment, Zac. I’ve just had a really strange experience—”

  “Looks like it!”

  “I need some space, Zac. To work things out.” I can hear my voice quavering, but I’m trying to be brave.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll give you some space. Plenty of it.”

  He turns on his heels and stomps off. But after only a few steps he comes to an abrupt halt and turns around. His arms are outstretched, palms turned outward, facing me.

  “I really missed you, you know, Jilda. I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “I know.”

  “And what about your party? It’s supposed to be at my parents’ place next Saturday!”

  “I know. We’ll have to call the party off. People will just think it’s because of what’s been happening to me.”

  “Except they won’t know the real reason, will they? You’ve got the hots for Jade….”

  Zac turns around again and storms off up the street. I feel an ache in my heart. We’d been pretty good together, or so I’d thought, until I met Jade and my whole world changed.

  When I go back inside, Jade looks at me, then looks away. I sit down again and pretend I’m still interested in the television. I wish I could hold her hand, but I don’t think the others would be ready to see us like that yet.

  THE REST of the afternoon Mum, Rosa, and I tell each other what happened since we were last together. Mum wants me to go first, and she and Rosa keep interrupting asking more questions. I’m exhausted with the telling and Jade pitches in to help explain details, but she’s really good at getting cues from me about what to leave out. Then Mum and Rosa tell us everything that happened to them. How they’d felt when they arrived at the pier after their excursion and found the ship gone. About the swarms of angry passengers stranded on the dock. How they’d stayed with a local couple in a colorful house on a hill, the daily queues in the boiling sun at the waterfront while trying to get details of what was happening, having to buy clothes from the market as they only had what they stood up in, and their enforced flight home. They tell me about all the emails, meetings, and phone calls Mum, Dad, and Rosa had with the ship’s company, politicians, and journalists to get some answers and action. Apparently Rosa had organized petitions and protests in front of Parliament House. What a sister she is. Then Mum and Rosa describe their surreal witnessing of the ten huge cruise ships surging up the River Derwent, two of them filling their view from our lounge-room window when they rammed onto the beach. It was strange hearing it all from their point of view. As we speak I can see the worry lines slowly fade from Mum’s face, and she starts looking like her normal self again.

  Much later this afternoon, Mum and I go to collect the luggage from Mures, and Sally treats us to a huge pile of fish and chips to take home to save us cooking dinner. Dad finally manages to free himself, and races over to our house to see me. He gives me the best hug he’s ever given me in my life, and I can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he holds me tight. He seems reluctant to ever let me go. He finally releases me, ruffling my hair.

  “My baby,” he says, his voice so full of love and relief.

  Luckily there are stacks of fish and chips, so he doesn’t have to miss out. He stuffs a few chips in his mouth, but I can tell he’s not really interested in eating. He just wants to hear ev
erything I’ve got to say. He can’t take his eyes off me. Poor Dad had wanted to fly to Fiji to help, but Mum had insisted he stay behind in case I tried to contact him or even turned up before she and Rosa got home. Apparently it had taken several days for the authorities to organize their return to Australia from Fiji with no passports or proper paperwork.

  This evening after we’ve finished eating, we have to sort out sleeping arrangements and Dad leaves to go back to his place. I can see he doesn’t want to go, and I feel sorry for him.

  Jade is to sleep on the foldout sofa in the lounge room, and I give Sheryl my room and hop in with Rosa. It’s so nice to snuggle up in the same bed as Rosa after missing her so much. Sheryl says she doesn’t like to put us out, but I assure her she isn’t—she’s actually doing us a favor, as it will give Rosa and me a chance to catch up.

  “What’s with you and Jade?” asks Rosa as soon as we’re alone in her room later that night.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, stalling for time, hoping she’ll say it first.

  “Come on, Jilda, it’s obvious something’s going on between you two.”

  “I really, really like her,” I say. “Do you think she likes me?”

  “I’m sure she does. Haven’t you seen the way she looks at you? I wish Andy would look that way at me.”

  “How does she look at me?”

  “Her eyes follow you everywhere. And she sort of smiles all the time whenever she looks in your direction,” says Rosa.

  “Does she? I’m stoked. I think she’s really cool.”

  “What about Zac? You never took any interest in girls before.”

  “I told him this afternoon that I don’t think we should go out anymore.”

  “Wow! What did he say?”

  “He called her a leso….”

  “That’s not nice.”

  “I suppose he’s hurt I prefer Jade to him. And probably can’t understand it either.”

  “Oh no. That means we can’t have our party at his house!”

  “I’m so sorry, Rosa.”

  “I’m sorry too. That sounded so selfish of me. I don’t care about the party. I’m just so glad you’re safely home again. I don’t think anyone really thought the party was going to happen anyway, because of all the uncertainty. Nothing’s been organized.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  “Jade does seem nice. Lucky thing. What’s going to happen to you two now?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I knew. She’ll be going back home to the US pretty soon, I suppose. As soon as her parents organize her flights. I wish I could go with her.”

  “Sorry, Jilda, it’s more like back to school for you. And me. Or at least, when it reopens, though it may take a while to find alternative accommodation for all the people staying there.”

  “You haven’t been back to school yet?”

  “No, Mum understands. It was only a couple of days anyway. I just couldn’t concentrate with you away. And we were too busy organizing the protest and things.”

  “It’ll be great not having to go to school—I’ll be able to spend more time with Jade until she goes back.”

  “I don’t think too many other schoolkids will be complaining either!”

  “I can’t believe I’m home again. It all seems so weird.”

  Rosa squeezes my hand.

  “Tell me more about what happened,” she asks.

  So we lie there in the dark as I fill her in on all the gory details. I left a few things out when talking to Mum and her earlier, like the time I was nearly thrown off the ship, as I thought Mum would freak. I just have to unload to Rosa, though. I’m so used to never keeping anything from her. Rosa grips my hand tighter and says, “Oh my God” over and over again.

  “There’s one more detail I have to tell you about that time they tried to toss me from the ship.”

  “Yes?” asks Rosa warily.

  I tell her about what happened to her chain, and she assures me she isn’t upset at all.

  “It’s only a chain, Jilda. A broken chain is nothing compared to how broken our lives would’ve been if you hadn’t come home safely.”

  My tale finally comes to an end, and we drift off to sleep.

  During the night I wake up thirsty, so I carefully get out of bed, trying not to disturb Rosa, and creep to the kitchen to have a glass of water. I have to pass Jade sleeping on the sofa bed and stop to look at her. A shaft of moonlight lies across her face and I can clearly make out her features. She really is beautiful. Her dark hair fans across the pillow and her skin is smooth. She looks so peaceful lying there, but when I pass her again after having my drink, she begins to stir. Her arms and legs are moving, and she starts to thrash around and groan a little. Her dreams must have suddenly turned into nightmares. I don’t know whether to wake her from whatever is disturbing her, but just as quickly she calms down again, so I decide to let her be. But I can’t resist stroking her hair away from her forehead and pressing the lightest of kisses there. Suddenly I feel her hand in my hair and she pulls me toward her. Mouths, skin, hair all meld into one and I slide into bed beside her. She is warm and soft and I stay there, our legs entwined, until the dawn is breaking.

  I slip out of her bed and creep back to Rosa’s bedroom so Sheryl and Mum won’t find us there together. I don’t think Mum will mind too much, although I know she’ll be surprised—all right, shocked—about my feelings for Jade, but Sheryl might have a heart attack, and I don’t want to cause that after all she’s been through.

  Back in Rosa’s bed, I think about Jade and how lucky I am to have met her. The circumstances of our meeting were horrendous, but I’m sure we’ll never forget each other, no matter what happens, because we’ve become close so quickly due to our strange shared experiences. If we hadn’t been hijacked, we may have passed the entire cruise without ever noticing each other among the throngs of passengers on the ship. Surely I’m not feeling thankful for the hijacking, but in a way I am, because it meant Jade and I crossed paths and got to know each other. And I’ve found out more about myself than I ever realized. Discovered myself. Who I really am.

  Chapter Fifteen: Following Days Shore

  SHERYL MANAGES to get a flight back home to Sydney this morning. Jade has been busy discussing flight options with her parents, but nothing has been confirmed yet. I think Jade is stalling about returning home. I hope she is anyway. She’s on her gap year, or whatever they call it in the US, after finishing high school, so there’s no real rush for her to leave.

  I feel quite sad knowing I’ll be saying goodbye to Sheryl today, as she and I have become real supports for each other and she’s almost like another grandmother to me. I wonder whether I’ll ever see her again. I won’t let my brain go anywhere near thinking about Jade leaving.

  At the airport we promise to catch up with Sheryl if ever we’re in Sydney, and she says when, or even if, her husband is well enough to travel again, they might come to Tasmania for a holiday. She declares she has sworn off ever going overseas again. And certainly never on a cruise.

  “So you won’t ever go to… what’s the name of that place you come from again, Jade?” I ask.

  “Kissimmee,” she says, putting the emphasis on the first syllable with a twinkle in her eye.

  So I do. Right on the lips.

  Sheryl gasps and glances away, Mum looks surprised, but Rosa smiles widely. Jade’s face is flushed, but she seems really pleased. I want everyone to know how I feel about Jade.

  After we’ve said farewell to Sheryl, we show Jade round the local sights so she can get to know Hobart a little. We scour the Salamanca Markets for some typical Tasmanian souvenirs like wood products and socks made to look like Tassie devils for Jade to take home to her parents one day, and eat hot, salty scallops from one of the seafood punts at Constitution Dock, feeding each other fat, vinegary, hand-cut chips.

  The four ships are still at the docks, and tourists and locals alike are flocking to see them and take photos. The air is abuzz with
excitement and speculation. We go up close to “our” ship, and I get goose bumps looking at it. The decks are now empty of people, and already it’s hard to imagine the thousands on board, the crowding and the hot-bedding. And the fear and uncertainty.

  After that we take selfies on the rocks at the summit of kunanyi/Mount Wellington, where on this bright, clear afternoon we can see forever. I point out all the local landmarks to Jade. From our vantage point up so high, the ten ships, all still in the same positions from when we first arrived, look spectacular. The River Derwent looks like a giant movie set.

  “I wonder when they’ll remove the ships,” says Rosa.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on,” says Mum. “I suppose they’ll sail them away when they know where they all originate from.”

  We heard on the news this morning that the passengers on our ship were the only ones who’d had to endure hot-bedding, as the other ships were decommissioned cruise ships, no longer in service, that had been emptied out and set up to hold a massive number of people with enough beds for all on board. So it seems it was the result of a carefully thought-out long-term plan to relatively comfortably evacuate the entire population of Levy Archipelago simultaneously. Something must have happened at the last minute, so that they suddenly needed our ship too. Our ship mustn’t have been part of their original plan. The other ships would still have been crowded, but at least those passengers didn’t have to deal with the annoying hot-bedding system and irregular hours. The authorities are still investigating how it all came about.

  This evening after dinner, Rosa, Jade, and I sit drinking green tea on our veranda, looking out to the river and down onto the rammed ships on Blackmans Bay beach. Mum’s gone out, catching up with friends she couldn’t make time for when she was so busy worrying about me and campaigning for the authorities to find us.