Next, perhaps sensing that there might be some fresh fruit on offer – which she seemed to have developed a liking for – Jemima hopped forwards and sniffed Ethel’s leg.
‘Aren’t you growing up fast?’ Ethel said, leaning down and giving the joey’s ears a rub.
‘Yes, I’m going to miss her when she’s too big and has to spend all her time out in the run. Not letting her inside is going to be hard.’
‘Well, you won’t have a choice. This place is too small to have her thumping around. Sometimes you have to be a little cruel to be kind – to both her and you,’ she said, smiling sadly. Where was the brightness that always shone from Auntie Ethel’s eyes and provided so much light and hope?
‘Fancy a bikkie? Oaties, Anzacs, or whatever you want to call them. Not sure where they came from. Must have been leftover from the working bee. They’ve gone a bit soft,’ Damien asked as he placed the mugs on the table.
‘Oh, what the hell, yes, thanks. Could do with a bikkie to cheer me up.’
‘So, what’s the matter?’
‘Oh, nothing specific. Just a bit tired and ragged around the edges.’ And there was that hand flap again.
Damien felt as if his concern was being dismissed. Oh, well, he’d tried. He’d just have to wait now and see if she decided to tell him.
‘Well, these little guys will cheer you up,’ he said, bringing the box of kittens from his bed. Ethel, Jemima and Squish peered in. The little dog, deciding they weren’t food, and thus weren’t interesting, vacated the couch and curled up on the floor beside Jemima.
‘They get on well, don’t they?’ Ethel said, nodding at the unlikely pairing.
‘Practically inseparable. I wouldn’t be surprised if Squish takes to spending his nights out with Jemima when she goes. It’s as if they’ve formed a club – the saved – or something. I wonder if the kittens will join when they’re bigger.’ He chuckled, but he felt a little sad every time he thought of the kittens being bigger, because that meant they’d be leaving. For the first time he could see how hard this running an animal welfare charity might be on his emotions. But he couldn’t shy away to protect himself. That would be selfish. He took two of the kittens out and handed them to Ethel.
‘Oh, aren’t you gorgeous. They’ve grown a lot already. You really have found your calling, Damien. I’m so proud of you.’
Damien wanted to kindly tell her to shut up before he got all teary. He wasn’t used to such kind comments. His mum had pushed him hard over the years – now, having taken a step back, he was starting to see just how hard. There had been very few glowing endorsements.
‘Speaking of which,’ Ethel continued, ‘your new enclosure out at the gate is genius. I stopped and had a good look. I reckon: even an oldie like me could figure out the instructions on the phone if needs be.’
‘Thanks, Auntie Ethel, that means a lot. It’s a bit of a work in progress. I’m sure I can improve it heaps, but it’ll do for now.’
‘Oh, and I completely forgot. How did the visit with the oldies up on the hill go? I was going to phone you. Sorry about that.’
‘No worries. It went brilliantly. Oh, Auntie Ethel, I really think the animals made their day. It felt so good to see their faces light up as they interacted with the animals. And Bob and Cara and Squish and Jemima loved it too – they behaved so well, like they’d been doing it for years. The kittens went down a treat too. I’m hoping down the track the hostel might adopt a couple. Fingers crossed. And fingers crossed Wednesday wasn’t a fluke, because we’re going back again next week.’
‘Oh, that’s great. Everything is really coming together. I’m so pleased. Your dad would be so proud, too.’
‘Thanks. So, I thought you’d be home battening down the hatches against the heat,’ he said, desperate for a complete change of subject to lighten the mood.
‘Just felt the need to get out. You know how it is: sometimes the same four walls that you love suddenly feel oppressive?’
Oh, yeah, he knew all right. He hoped his aunt wasn’t slipping into a depressed state like he had; he doubted she’d consult Jacqueline properly now they were such good friends – just like he wouldn’t if he needed to now. He was pleased to be ripped from his thoughts of Jacqueline by his mobile phone going off.
‘Oh shit, this can’t be good,’ he said, looking at his phone. It was the captain of his CFS brigade, Keith Stevens. Summer had officially ended but there were still bursts of hot weather, which was why the fire season didn’t end until the fifteenth of April – still a month away.
‘Hey, Keith,’ he said.
‘Hey, Damien. We’re sending two trucks out to the Peak. Hopefully just a matter of monitoring and cleaning up by the time we get there. I know you’re busy, but I just wondered if you could come along? We’re having trouble fielding two teams. There seems to be a heap of guys and gals still off on their beach holidays. That or just not answering their mobiles or pagers.’
Damien remembered he’d left his pager in his ute. Oops. ‘Yeah. Look, hang on a sec.’ He put his hand over his mobile. ‘Auntie Ethel, it’s a CFS callout. Would you …?’ He nodded towards the kittens.
‘Of course. You go. I’ll take care of these guys. If I get bored I’ll take them home with me and put Jemima in the run. But I’ve got my knitting in my bag, so I should be fine to stay.’
‘You’re the best. Thanks so much.’ He uncovered the phone. ‘You there, Keith?’
‘Yep.’
‘Count me in.’
‘We’ll be going past the end of your road in twenty. We’ll put you on truck two one. Can you get there by then?’
‘Yep. No problems. See you then.’ He hung up. The adrenaline was already starting to pulse. He hadn’t been in touch with CFS properly since he’d lost his house, mostly because the loss had sparked such a sudden change in direction for him and then brought up so much to sort out to follow his new path. He hadn’t even thought to turn his pager on until yesterday when he’d seen smoke way off above the horizon while out checking the troughs. He was planning to get back in touch today and let them know he was available if needed after seeing the weather report and extreme fire warnings and bans on the telly. They’d need all hands on deck, or at least available on standby. He’d meant to call Keith first thing, but it had slipped his mind.
It felt good to be back in the loop again. And bless Auntie Ethel for stepping in. She even seemed to have got a bit of her old sparkle back, he thought, turning around and sneaking a peek at her cuddling the kittens.
‘Thanks so much for this. Sorry, guys, but you’re staying put,’ he said, bending down to give Squish and Jemima a farewell pat. ‘Bob and Cara are locked up in their run. They should be …’
‘I’ll take care of everything,’ Ethel said. ‘You just get going.’
‘Thanks so much.’ He hovered in the open doorway for a moment and looked back at Squish, who was sitting to attention with his head cocked, waiting to be called. He felt a stab of sadness. He couldn’t remember a time when the dog had been left behind since the day he’d found him. But it was for his own good; he’d be safe here with Auntie Ethel. On a call out, all hell could break loose at any moment and if it did, the last thing Damien’s teammates and the landowners whose properties were under threat needed was a guy with his mind elsewhere.
‘See you,’ he called, as he raced out the door, down the steps and into his ute. The UHF radio was full of chatter. Four other units were on the scene and another four from around the district – not including Damien’s – were on their way. From the urgency in the voices, he could tell this was bad – seasoned CFS personnel didn’t get jumpy for no reason. He felt his heart slow momentarily as he remembered that day, not so long ago.
As he drove, he wondered how this fire had started. It was usually one of only three causes: vehicle accident, farm equipment, and lightning. He’d never heard of arson being a cause, unlike a lot of the fires in the more densely populated areas. Out here the community was ti
ght-knit, and every kid knew that if anyone caught them doing something dodgy they’d be given a clip around the ear before being delivered home to face the music, which might be worse. There seemed to be an unwritten rule that anyone could be punished by anyone; none of that it’s-my-kid-stay-out-of-it-I’ll-deal-with-it nonsense. If a kid – or anyone else for that matter – did something that had wider community implications, like graffiti or playing with matches, it was considered okay for the wider community to sort it out. And, as far as Damien could see, it worked. The only two instances of graffiti in his time had been done by outsiders who’d moved into town. They’d been shut down pretty quick and their antics not repeated.
‘G’day,’ he said, getting into the first of the two trucks that had pulled up just off the side of the highway.
As they drove in silence, all concentrating on the radio chatter, it became clear that things were really bad. Two houses and a stack of sheds had been lost, but thankfully no lives. He felt for the landowners and for the firies. He knew all too well that houses could be rebuilt and stuff replaced. But he doubted the guys and girls who battled the flames only to lose something as precious as someone’s home would ever be totally the same again. They were proud, they worked hard; to fail was hard to swallow. Especially when it happened so rarely. Out here, houses were so few and far between and most of the land cleared so there was a lot more opportunity to get the upper hand before buildings were threatened. In his almost twelve years with CFS, Damien’s house was only the second that had been lost as a result of bushfire.
He’d seen how upset and deflated the guys had been when he’d arrived and found his place in a molten, smouldering mess. And now, just weeks later, some of those same guys would be going through it all again. He wondered if the CFS had started to include Jacqueline in their debriefs at the end of incidents, or was at least promoting her services to members. Plenty of them would have been at her talk the other week, but it was different coming from your leader. Out here, as he well knew, people, blokes especially, were loath to seek help without a decent shove. But while losing more houses indicated a new era, this having a psychologist on hand, and one who was warm and friendly and who wasn’t all about textbooks and theory, was a new era too.
As the black and brown smoke loomed larger and then took up the horizon in front of them, the mood in the vehicle became more subdued. Even the radio chatter seemed to have died, although Damien suspected Keith might have turned the volume down.
After turning off the main road, they made a series of turns, the dirt roads showing less and less maintenance as they went on. The journey was vaguely familiar to Damien – he might have been out here to a clearing sale or even another fire in the past few years, though in this area, the scrub, roads, groups of buildings and driveways into them tended to all look pretty much the same. But as they turned off the road onto a private track and bumped their way over a cattle grid, Damien was sure he’d been here before.
Two trucks were leaving. The first rolled to a stop beside the one Damien was in – the second of his brigade – and the four drivers conferred. Damien, sitting in the back, could only hear the odd word, but the tension and weariness in the other drivers’ voices were unmistakeable. All the crews waved to their comrades in farewell as they headed off again, but there was no cheer, no boisterous ribbing – they were clearly exhausted, and they might be out here for several hours yet. Firefighting regularly pushed people beyond their limits. Adrenaline helped.
The drivers parked the trucks on the bare area in front of a large implement shed a short distance from a cream brick house. Everyone got out and gathered around Keith. Damien’s pulse raced a little and he was already sweating under his gear.
‘Right,’ Keith said, ‘so it started two properties over. They got it contained about three and a half clicks away over there to the north-east.’ He waved an arm. ‘The landowner has a grader and was able to respond quickly. The good news is the wind has died down and looks like being nowhere near as gusty as forecast. And they’re now saying the change won’t come though until tomorrow arvo instead of tonight, so that’ll help keep things stable. Sorry, guys and gals, it’s going to be a hot one and just a matter of keeping an eye on things until we hear otherwise. The guys who’ve just left have headed out to check the perimeter again on their way home. Trent, I want you to take your truck and team back over the ridge and keep an eye on things there, just to be sure. I’m going to head out and check the lie of the land to the east and south. Damien, can you and Kate stay here and monitor anyone coming and going? If any other brigades and farmers come looking for water, there’s a standpipe behind this main shed over there. Okay, so everyone’s clear on what they’re doing? Any questions?’
They dispersed, murmuring, leaving Damien and Kate behind. He knew Keith was probably easing him back in gently, and that Kate, with as much experience as him, was probably there to keep an eye on him. Actually, maybe she was being eased back in as well; she’d been at his fire that day when they’d all been taken by surprise and outwitted by the wind and flames.
They stood in silence for a few moments, watching the trucks disappear from view. Damien felt a surge of vulnerability and wondered if it was just him or if Kate was feeling that way too.
‘Right, well, I think we should take a good look around, see what’s what,’ Kate said, clapping her hands together. Damien thought what Kate was really saying was that she didn’t trust the forecast and wind and weather reports and that if she was going to be left here without a truck for protection she was damned well going to figure out an escape route or some other contingency plan. Well, that was what he was feeling, anyway.
‘Yeah, good plan. Hey, any idea whose place this is? I’m sure I’ve been here before …’ He was starting to feel a little jittery. Perhaps that was just because he couldn’t put his finger on why this place was tugging at his memory. He frowned.
‘No, but I know I’ve never been here before, I’d remember that tank,’ she said, pointing.
A large corrugated tank was perched high on top of a tall steel structure. Damien shuddered slightly. He wasn’t at all a fan of heights. Growing up and working on the farm and being involved with CFS saw him regularly facing that particular fear, but he’d never quite conquered it and he certainly wouldn’t be volunteering to climb up there in a hurry.
‘I’ll go left and check out the standpipe and water situation, you head that way and we’ll meet back here in around twenty minutes. Okay?’
‘Yep, sounds good.’ Damien checked his watch as Kate strode off with her shovel.
He did a full turn to take in the sights, sounds and smells. There was not a breath of wind. It was eerily still and quiet. All the birds must have already fled – that wasn’t a good sign. He looked around. It was too still. Too quiet. Something didn’t feel right. Or perhaps he was just being a little paranoid, hypersensitive. He tried to shake it aside. His stomach churned. He told himself he’d feel better when he’d checked out what his immediate surroundings had to offer. Maybe if he could find a farm firefighting unit he’d feel more comfortable.
He moved off towards the front of the house, looking for anything that might be a hazard if the fire came this way. But Keith wouldn’t have left him and Kate here if there was any possibility of them being in any danger. Damien suspected this was the house of a bachelor – the only garden to speak of was a bed of neglected roses near the front door, mulched with gravel. There were no weeds and no dried-off neglected lawn – whoever lived here was either very fire-safety conscious or not much interested in aesthetics. He could relate to that. The only reason he’d had a garden was because his parents had planted it all those years ago when it was the family home and his mother had always kept up with the pruning and mowing of grass. He’d sprayed a bit of weedkiller around occasionally, but hadn’t done much else in the way of gardening. Now, if he’d had someone to do it with, make a home together with, that would have been a different story. Well, he lik
ed to think so.
As he headed around the side and then back, the feeling that he’d been here before became even stronger. He wished he could remember – it was beginning to annoy him.
A gust of wind whistled past him. He tensed and looked up. The trees were still. That was odd. He felt even more uneasy. At that moment a rooster started crowing, destroying the silence and startling Damien a little. And then he remembered: he’d come here with his dad years ago to get some chooks. If it was the same man they’d come to see, he bred prize-winning Rhode Island Red poultry. He’d been an old man then; he must be ancient now. Or perhaps his son had taken over, or maybe every adult looked old to a child. Damien felt a little better now that mystery was solved. But he still didn’t feel completely at ease. He walked on a few steps. In front of him was a large wire enclosure surrounded by trees. He could see that the trees were there to provide shade and shelter but, Christ, it made it a fire hazard. He frowned. It was all in a wide-open, bare space, but he’d seen fire jump highways twice the size of that gap. He quickly finished his circuit and went to check on Kate. As he rounded the other side of the house, she rushed towards him.
‘What’s up?’ he asked. They weren’t due to meet for another ten minutes and she was looking a little harried.
‘I don’t know,’ she said, gnawing on the inside of her lip. ‘I don’t like how close it looks from up there.’ She indicated the tank with her head. ‘I can’t help thinking they’ve got it wrong.’
‘Well, there’re no certainties where fire and wind speed and direction are involved, as we both well know. What do you want to do, radio in to Keith?’
‘Nah, better not. I’m probably just being paranoid – you know, after …’ She sighed. ‘Someone would have called us if things had changed – Trent should be nearly on top of it by now. I guess we’d better just sit tight. What do you think?’
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