Unsheltered

by Clare Moleta

  Wild woman, hey? All right, you take your time. He looked past her at the lights on the road, started backing cleanly into the scrub. But Li, if you get caught, you can’t help her.

  * * *

  She had borrowed wire-cutters from Amin against the promise of meat. Made the first snares out of fencing wire, wrestling the strands into slip-knot loops that left her thumbs and forefingers aching. She made Matti show her where the kids went under the fence – a hole in the sand behind some bushes at the far eastern end of the camp. She cut into the fence just above it to make it easier to get through.

  The first time Li went across it was just before dawn. She had warned Matti the night before that she was going. Told her to stay in the tent as long as she could after she woke, and then look for Sulaman’s parents or Shayla’s in the food queue and stand with them so she wouldn’t get pushed out. The Kids’ Tent usually opened around ten. If she wasn’t back by then, that’s where Matti had to wait for her.

  Matti had taken a long time to fall asleep but she didn’t wake when Li left, and Li didn’t look back.

  The No Go was sand and scrub and stringybark, noisy now with the early racket of birds. The kind of country that tricked you into thinking it was flat. Once she went over the first low rise and lost the fence from her sightline, everything took on a different scale. The night’s condensation pulled up the smells of earth and leaf and salt, smells that were in the camp, too, but masked by cooking and fires and bodies and mould and untreated sewage.

  There was spoor everywhere – signs of rabbits, roos, feral dogs and cats. Pigs too. She was going to need a knife. She moved in spurts at first, tree to tree, on high alert for vehicles or human movement but there was just the occasional sound of a truck out on the highway to Sumud and once an XB Force vehicle inland, moving away into the hills. On the other side of those hills, she knew, was the XB. The actual wall. It felt as distant now as it had before they crossed the Gulf.

  She laid the first snares a few kilometres from makecamp and got back to Matti in the food queue before it started moving. Matti hugged her quickly and held her hand all the way to the front. When Li went back across early the next morning, there were two rabbits in her snares.

  The third time, she went late in the day and took Matti with her. The sooner she knew how to get her own food, the better. But things started going wrong before they were even across. Matti had told Shayla and Sulaman to meet them at the fence, had promised they could learn too.

  Li saw them waiting, serious and expectant, for this sanctioned adventure in the No Go, and sent them packing. Telling two kids was like telling half the camp. She tried to stay calm in the face of Matti’s fury, explain what she should have understood, but in the end she had to shove her under the fence.

  Walking wasn’t a problem for Matti after the weeks on the road to Valiant, and she was already used to watching out for XB Force. She was good at spotting spoor, too, once she forgot to be mad. Li sent her up a tree after a bird snare and was reassured by the sprung, economical way her child climbed. But the dead honeyeater was harder for Matti than Li had expected, and when they found a young rabbit still struggling in the last snare, she cried and wanted to take it back to camp, alive. You could patch her, she said.

  Li showed her the mess of its leg, told her that letting it live would be cruel as well as stupid. When she broke its neck, Matti beat her with her fists and shouted at her, out there in the open, still not dark. Li had to slap her quiet. She crouched in the bushes, holding her still, and listened until she guessed they were safe. She could feel Matti’s outraged breathing, her strong, skinny body struggling to contain it, and she regretted the force of the slap.

  Sorry, she said.

  I’m not listening, Matti growled.

  So Li talked to the back of her child’s head in the dusk. Told her that she had to look after them both, trade for what they needed, and teach Matti to do it for herself. That was more important than the rabbit.

  You’re just saying that cos you’re a human. If you had a baby rabbit, how would you feel?

  They had raised a kid who could think like this because until a few months ago she had never gone hungry.

  I don’t know, she said. I don’t have a baby rabbit, I have a beansprout. And she heard the wrongness of it. The trespass.

  Dad had a beansprout, Matti said. Not you.

  Walking back to makecamp after dark, they were quiet. The moon lit their way patchily, betweens scuds of cloud. Li was thinking she’d been wrong to bring Matti, it had been too soon. Matti had already made her first snares, and it would be easier now Li could trade for more flexible wire. She would make her practise until it was second nature. She’d teach her to skin and gut the kill, how to cut the bladder out without contaminating the meat. How to check the heart and liver for signs of disease – their trade would be worthless if people got sick from it. Li had been a little older than Matti when Val started teaching her these things but Val had had time on his side. Matti was smart and she was quick. She already knew how to draw water out of leaves, how to make a basic still. Li would bring her out again, just not straight away.

  Mum, Matti said.

  This was a new thing. Since the boat. Before that she had only been Mum when Matti wanted something. Otherwise she was Li, and Frank had been Dadda and then Dad.

  Mum. See the jumpers?

  They were near the fence now, parallel to the highway. Li saw the headlights coming and pulled Matti down but Matti was looking at something closer – a brief flaring of torches, shapes moving in the roadside scrub on the other side of the fence. The truck was almost on them, gears shifting down as it began the uphill stretch. They stayed low and watched the jumpers swarm the road, leaping, clawing, climbing. They went for the sides, the tailgate, tried to pull themselves under the moving vehicle. Matti was still and attentive in Li’s arms. One of the figures turned to pull someone up behind them and lost their grip and fell.

  I’m going for the kids, Matti whispered, because they’re faster.

  The truck picked up speed and the jumpers fell back. They walked or limped into the scrub and out of sight but a few of them stayed, crouching beside bodies on the road. Li listened to them crying in the dark and held onto Matti like it was only her arms keeping her clear of the wheels.

  They got back to the factory after midnight. A woman Li hadn’t seen before was on watch. They had a fire going in the alcove. Half a dozen people slept around it, huddled in blankets. Rich left her and went over to the packing crate that housed his sleeping bag.

  Safia was sitting up by the fire, drinking koffee with Adam, who did salvage runs. They watched Li come.

  Where’s the phone? Li asked.

  Safia looked at Adam. He handed it over carefully. It was an older model, the passcode worn into the keypad, plenty of surface damage. The charging port needed replacing for a start. She took the back off, held it up to the firelight.

  Adam said, Can you patch it?

  She focused on Safia. Do you have my kit?

  Safia produced the flat leather pouch from inside her jacket. Li took it from her, flipped it open across her lap and went through the screwdrivers, the needle-nosed pliers, the picks and hooks and fine-tipped tweezers, the fishing magnet. Everything in its place. Safia had kept this from her to show that she could.

  So, can you? Adam said.

  Maybe.

  We took a risk helping you.

  Li looked at him. He was barely out of his teens. She remembered him hanging around the ready shop with a dozen others like him, all vying for jobs from Safia.

  Where are you going to charge it?

  I’ve got that covered. You just need to do your job.

  Can you find me another model like this? she said. Two would be better.

  Broken ones. Maybe.

  Broken is okay.

  Safia gave Li Adam’s sleeping bag to use while he was gone. She slept uneasily. Once she woke to find Rich beside her, offering painkil
lers. When she woke again it was getting light and Adam was back with the parts she needed. He looked like they’d cost him but Li didn’t ask.

  By the time she’d patched the phone, it was full daylight. She woke Adam and he took it and went out again. Now she had nothing to do the pain reasserted itself, and the sick tense of time passing. Then Rich and one of the others came back from the port with bottled water and food from the relief groups; bread and beans and four hard-boiled eggs. More koffee.

  We’re not the only ones, he said. They reckon we’ll be all right if we stay out of the nice end of town and don’t piss anyone off. Sumud just wanted the camp gone, and if Sumud’s happy, Port’s happy.

  Safia said, What about Agency?

  Agency’s got enough on their hands. They’re not gunna come looking.

  He’d brought yesterday’s newspaper too. Makecamp was still burning on the front page, under a headline quote from Sumud’s Chief Security Officer. Nazari’s message to Gulf people smugglers: ‘Your trading model is over.’

  Adam came back when they were finishing breakfast. He bypassed Li and gave the phone to Safia, who checked it over while they all watched. Then she entered a number into the keypad and handed the phone to Li. It was fully charged.

  One call, she said. There’s credit.

  Li walked away to the far end of the factory before she pressed call. It only rang twice.

  Who is this?

  My name’s Li. I need to ask you something.

  Li, the boy said. Are you my contact now? I have dollars.

  No. I’m unsheltered, same as you.

  How’d you get this number?

  Safia from makecamp gave it to me, from the ready shop. She said there were three of you and you might be able to help me.

  Silence. If she pushed too hard he might hang up, so she waited. Her hands hurt. In the midmorning light the factory looked like a ruined church with its concrete pillars and remnant fires and bird shit. All the glass had been salvaged from the windows. And Matti had spent another night alone.

  Are you there?

  He breathed out, a hard whoosh against her ear. It’s just me now. I can’t waste the battery.

  Don’t hang up. What’s your name?

  A tiny pause. Arsalan.

  I’m trying to find my daughter, Arsalan.

  You think she’s here?

  Maybe. I hope so.

  How old?

  Seven. Eight. She turned eight. She was at the Kids’ Tent when XB Force came in.

  The Kids’ Tent caught on fire, he said.

  I heard they got out, got taken where you are. He didn’t answer. Are there other kids in there without parents? Young kids?

  Why don’t you come and see?

  The little fuck. You know why, she said. If she’s not in there and they hold me, I can’t look for her. Silence again, but he hadn’t hung up. She could hear some kind of repetitive banging in the background.

  He said, over the noise, There are no little kids here now.

  You sure about that? Her name is Matti. A different, sharper silence. Li’s heart rate spiked. You know her? You know Matti from makecamp?

  She had a horse she carried around.

  Yes. Yes, that’s her.

  She’s not here anymore. Agency took all the little kids yesterday.

  For a second she couldn’t get air in. But she was there? You saw her?

  I saw her get off a bus. And then I saw her at processing.

  And she was okay, she wasn’t hurt?

  They put those ones in a different container. Like, hospital container. Or they died and they took them away. Matti looked okay.

  Li felt her legs going. Got her back against the nearest pillar and lowered herself down.

  Where did they take them?

  People said north. I think there was a problem about keeping kids here, a legal problem. They’re going to take all the under-fifteens but they started with the little kids.

  Are you sure it was north?

  Lady, I don’t know. They wouldn’t send them south, would they? I just know they had a bus and they took the little kids first. Must be a long way north cos they haven’t come back for the others yet.

  How many did they take?

  She almost heard him shrug. How many you can fit on a bus?

  Fifty kids? she thought. More if you packed them in. That meant Agency paperwork, something on Matti’s record. She needed to get to the Source Centre.

  The banging in the background got louder and there was yelling now, too. The boy talked over it. I tried to get on the bus because people say Agency treat little kids better, so I thought it might be a better place, but they ran my status.

  When did you turn fifteen, Arsalan?

  Two months ago. People say I look younger.

  So he was out of time, she thought. The day he turned fifteen his status number would have gone into the ballot, and now he was waiting to find out if he was going to be shipped to the Front. Maybe this month, this year, maybe ten years from now when he was starting to feel lucky. And this was Matti’s future, too.

  Recruiters came yesterday, he said. I got a choice. I can join up, voluntary, or Agency sends me back. He sounded different now, engaged. She needed to finish this, but it was hard to resist the idea that she was making a trade here. Stay on the phone a bit longer, keep listening to this kid and maybe someone would do the same for Matti.

  Do you have anyone to go back to?

  They don’t send you all the way back, they just leave you on the highway somewhere. You don’t know much.

  No family then. No one in holding and no one outside waiting for him. She forced herself to say it. You’ll get paid if you join up.

  He laughed, a disgusted sound. Army came round makecamp every week saying that. Get paid, get fed, place to stay, better than this place. Take charge of your future. Like I’m supposed to put my hand up to go to Wars? At least with the ballot I get a chance.

  So, what are you going to do?

  I’m going to keep trying till I get inside, he said. I still have some dollars for the trucks. I had a contact before but he’s not calling me back now.

  What will you do inside? She wondered if he thought it would be some kind of happy ending. Everyone knew there was no quota for queue-jumpers.

  I’ll find my brother. He got in two years ago. The banging got so loud that Li lost his voice for a moment. Then he said, I want to go to school again and eat challow and play footy. Mostly I hope I find my brother.

  Arsalan, she said. I have to go.

  Matti always wanted to play this game where you’re trying to get to the place you’d live if you could live anywhere. You know?

  The Best Place.

  Yeah, yeah. The Best Place. But I think she thought it was a real place. She used to get in fights about it. She said it was better than inside and she was going to go there. Some of the little kids believed her.

  His voice was so close. Li could almost touch her.

  Lady? Wait, Lady?

  I’m still here.

  It’s good you’re looking for her.

  Li stayed where she was, with the phone to her ear so the others wouldn’t know she’d finished the call. Yesterday. She’d missed Matti by one day.

  Now what? It made sense that they’d go north. There was nothing south between here and the ocean except the checkpoint in the fence, and if Sumud was willing to take busloads of unsheltered, makecamp wouldn’t have been cleared in the first place. Agency wouldn’t ship unaccompanied minors back west if there was no one there to claim them. She’d asked around when they first got to makecamp and everyone said the same thing. XB Force might but Agency was government and government was still signed up to conventions. That only left north.

  Further down the factory, the others were keeping their distance, pretending not to watch her. She turned her back fully. She had never thought she would call this number. Frank only ever asked her about it once, after they’d got to Valiant and he was
wearing himself out in Agency queues, searching for ways in that didn’t exist.

  You could ask him to sponsor us, he’d said. He might have connections now. He might be happy to do something for you.

  As if she would have asked Chris for anything. It had caught her off guard, that Frank still thought this way about people. She told him she’d already searched the Source directory. That either Chris was dead or he didn’t have a phone. Had Frank believed her or had he just decided to let it go? She’d found the number years and years ago – long before she met Frank. Just to know he was still in the world, to place him on the map. Not ever to call. She used to recite it in her head when she was walking or falling asleep, over and over until it had a rhythm. Later, in Nerredin, she gave that up, never thought about him, not really. But when she reached for it now, the number was right there.

  She got up as she dialled because she needed to be on her feet for this. While it rang her heartbeat raced ahead of her. Such a small thing she was asking, in the scale of things.

  The voice that answered was completely unfamiliar.

  She said, Chris?

  Yeah.

  It’s Li. She waited for him to speak. When he didn’t, she said, Do you know who I am?

  Li. Another pause. Right. I guess. I guess I’m surprised that I’m hearing from you. Under the shock, his voice was rearranging itself, setting up lines of defence.

  I need to ask you something.

  I don’t think that’s a good idea.

  Li pushed past his wariness. My daughter and I have been in the makecamp outside Sumud for the last three months.

  You have a kid? He sounded confused, like this wasn’t what he’d expected.

  Yeah. XB Force just cleared the camp. We got separated. I don’t know where she is now. She heard the news like it was being reported about someone else, someone more careless.

  How?

  How what?

  How did you get separated?

  I was. She cleared her throat. I was out of the camp when it happened.