Deeper Water

by Jessie Cole

  Dedication

  For my mother

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Acknowledgements

  Q & A with Jessie Cole

  Reading Group Questions

  About the Author

  Praise for

  Copyright

  1.

  They say every hero has to leave home, but what those first steps are like I’m yet to know. Where I live you’d think there was no world to discover, all hemmed in by such endless green. Cow paddocks gone bushy, forest trees taking back the rolling hills. You’ve got to cross six creeks just to get to my house, and if the sky lets loose and the water rises, there’s nothing to do but sit and wait. Some days, time seems to stand still. The weather might be wild, but the minutes tick by as though they’re weighed down by an invisible load. And then some days the whole world changes, and when that movement finally comes, it’s fast, like a raging river, nearly knocking your legs out from under you.

  That afternoon Bessie was birthing and I followed her about in the rain, scared she’d do herself some kind of harm. Cows are silly that way sometimes. There can be only two trees in a paddock, close together like lovers, and a cow will get herself wedged between them. If there’s one space in the whole world a cow won’t fit, that’s where she has to be. Bessie was a big cow, and I don’t suppose I could have stopped her from doing things her way, but I figured she’d probably want some company, and I like watching things being born, even in the pouring rain.

  When she headed down towards the creek, I was worried. Flooding water is unpredictable. New rivers spring up out of nowhere, charging across the sodden ground like runaway trains. They can look harmless enough from afar, but usually it’s best to stay on high ground. We stood in the lowlands, and Bessie gave a long sad bellow. She looked at me and the rain streamed across her thick eyelashes and down her brown face. The water was rising around us. I needed to get her moving.

  I don’t know what made me look downstream towards the bridge. Sometimes there’s a change in the air, some small shift in pressure maybe, or the hint of a sound. But in the distance a car was trying to cross, the mounting water pushing it against the railing of the bidge. Even from where I stood I could hear the splintering of timber, and then the car just floated off the side.

  I was running along the edge of the water towards the bridge before I knew it, but all I was thinking about was Bessie. What if the calf was born and it washed away? By the time I got close to the car I was angry. Who crosses a raging river in flood?

  The creek was racing but the car bobbed along, incongruous with the wild torrent. ‘Hey!’ I screamed through the rain. ‘You’ve got to get out!’ There was no way I was going in, but I didn’t want to stand there and watch the car just disappear.

  ‘Hey!’ My voice seemed lost in the roar of the creek and the drumming of the rain. I looked around for a strong enough branch. ‘Open the window!’

  Even though it was a car, all steel and glass, it didn’t make a sound in the water. Sometimes we get floods so big you can hear giant boulders rolling down the river, crashing against the rocks, but we weren’t nearly there yet. I grabbed a big branch from the ground and moved along the creek dragging it behind me and yelling. There was no sign of a person inside and I was starting to get scared.

  Suddenly the car stopped, like it was stuck against something. The water built up around it. My breath stilled. It was going to go under. Then the window opened a crack. I could see fingers poking out.

  ‘Smash it!’ My voice was hoarse. ‘You’ve got to smash it!’

  The branch I’d picked up was heavy, too big for me really, but it needed to be long to reach the car. I lifted it, my arms shaking, water running down inside the sleeve of my dad’s old raincoat. The window of the car was still above the water and I knew I only had one chance to hit the spot. Swinging the branch down, I closed my eyes and heard it clunk on the glass. There was a cracking sound and I opened my eyes and the window smashed, caving outwards. He’d done it himself. I shoved the branch forward so it was caught in against the window frame. I didn’t want it to get swept up by the water before he’d grabbed it. The fingers reaching out the window became an arm and then a body.

  ‘The branch!’ I yelled. ‘Grab the branch!’

  It was a man. I didn’t know if I’d be able to hold him.

  He pushed his top half from the window, staring through the rain from me to the branch. I nodded, willing him to understand. There was a sapling near me and I grabbed it, hoping it would give me a hold. My end of the branch was knobbly. I hooked my fingers around the stubs to try to get a better grip. The man leaned forward, grasping the branch hard. I stepped backwards, tugging it free from where it was jammed, and the pull of the water seemed to suck him from the car. It disappeared behind him, bubbling as it went down.

  Once I had him it was easier than I thought. I held tight and he held tight, and eventually the water pushed him to the side, out of the rapids. He staggered from the current towards me, but I was already peering around for Bessie.

  ‘Fuck, you’re just a girl,’ he said, shaking and choking back tears.

  I was glad my mother wasn’t there to hear that. I couldn’t think of a better way to provoke her loathing, but I chose not to see the comment as a slur on womankind. The truth is, I’m not a kid anymore, but I guess in this oversized raincoat it was hard to tell. He put his arms out like he was going to collapse into a heap around me, but I didn’t want that.

  ‘We’ve got to find her,’ I shouted over the sound of the rain. ‘She’s having a baby.’

  ‘What?’

  The water was running so hard down my face, it was worse than tears.

  ‘Bessie!’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Come on.’ I started to run back along the waterline. I could only see a little way in front of me, but I heard her bellowing not far away. ‘She’s up here!’ I yelled as he stumbled along behind me.

  She was standing right at the edge of the river bend, water lapping around her silly cloven feet. Suddenly my heart was in my mouth.

  ‘A cow?’

  ‘We got to get her to move away from the water.’

  I scrambled up beside her, putting my face against her wet flank. Even through the rain I could see the calf was on its way out. The birth sac was like a water balloon, almost transparent. Up close there were two hoofs inside the bubble, sticking out beneath her tail.

  ‘Come on!’ I shouted over the rain, but he just stood there gawking at me. ‘Help me! We got to move her.’

  He came and stood beside me and together we pushed, but she didn’t budge. I closed my eyes, rain flowing over me like there was no air left. When I opened them his face was right there beside mine, eyes open and bright, the lightest blue, raindrops welling in his lashes.

  ‘Maybe we’ve got to shock her,’ he said. ‘Give her a whack?’

  I shook my head. ‘She might bolt the wrong way. I’ll go see if I can pull he
r from the front. You keep pushing.’

  She didn’t move, even though I tugged with all I had.

  ‘It’s coming,’ he yelled from behind. ‘Fuck! It’s coming out.’

  And it was, wrapped in that translucent sac. We stood there then, waiting, the rain still belting down, water coming up around our ankles. It felt like the land was falling away, like it must have in the Great Flood. Just me and him, Bessie the cow, and the yet to be born.

  Finally the calf slithered out, a crumpled mess in the water at our feet. I tried to pick it up but it was too heavy.

  ‘Get it!’ I shouted up at him. ‘It’s going to drown.’

  He hesitated a second, and then scooped it up, birth sac and all.

  ‘Is it breathing?’ I tore a hole in the yellowy film to see.

  He clutched at the baby a minute, feeling for its breath. ‘Yep.’

  I pulled the sticky sac away from the calf’s face. It looked dazed, but at least its eyes were open. It blinked against the rain.

  ‘Okay. Let’s go. She’ll follow us now we’ve got the baby.’

  He nodded and I pointed up the hill.

  It doesn’t take long to get to my house from the creek, but when it’s flooding and you’re carrying a calf, it’s a bit of a trek. I had to go real slow so the man could keep up. Bessie trailed along behind us. When we got to the top paddock, I wasn’t sure she would stay put.

  ‘I’m going to grab a rope,’ I called to him and headed for Mum’s shed. We had all sorts of bits and pieces in there and I knew I’d find something to tie her up with. There was no power and it was pretty dim, so I had to feel around with my hands. It was a bit creepy, especially knowing there were always snakes about, but eventually I found some old rope.

  Back in the paddock, the man looked pretty strange, standing there in the rain still holding the calf. Slick with water and trembling, he could have just been born.

  ‘Let’s tie her under a tree, out of the rain.’ I rushed past him, pointing to the edge of the field. He followed more slowly. Luckily there was an old fence post I could tie the rope to. Bessie didn’t seem impressed about being tethered but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  ‘Can I put it down now?’ He tried to shake the water from his face.

  ‘Yeah.’ I could see him better under the tree, without all the confusion of the rain. He looked almost as dazed as the calf. ‘Bessie should do the rest.’

  He knelt down with the calf and put it on the mushy ground. It staggered about in the remains of the birth sac for a few seconds, trying to get to its feet. Crouching beside it, I pulled at the filmy sac till the calf was upright, then stepped back and waited. The man slid backwards on his knees in the mud. Bessie put her head down and nibbled a few stray blades of grass.

  ‘Come on, Bessie,’ I groaned, ‘that’s your baby.’

  After all that work I couldn’t believe Bessie was going to ignore it.

  ‘What do we do now?’ The man tried to flick some of the birth gunk from the sleeves of his jumper.

  I glanced at him but I was still thinking of Bessie.

  ‘Just wait, I think. She’ll come good.’

  The calf stumbled around for a bit, every now and then knocking against Bessie’s legs. Eventually she gave it a lick and then it was all on. She was a mother. I didn’t realise I’d been holding my breath until it came out in a rush.

  The man clambered up from where he’d been kneeling. He was a mess—drenched and covered in mud and fluid and bloody bits from the birth.

  ‘You’re not going to be able to save that one.’ I pointed to his jumper. ‘It’s done.’

  ‘Everything’s in the car. Fuck. My laptop. Fuck.’ He pressed his dripping palms against his eyes. ‘It’s got everything on it. Everything.’

  We didn’t have a working computer, so I guess I didn’t know what that was like.

  ‘I’ll find you some fresh clothes, come on.’

  He patted his pockets. ‘I don’t even have my fucking phone.’

  He looked about ready to freak out.

  ‘There’s no reception out here anyway.’ I shook my head, watching him. ‘You may as well come inside.’

  2.

  I opened the door gingerly. Mum hates it when I come in wet and leave footprints all over the floor. It’s hard enough keeping the house dry in the rainy season without all my coming and going. There’s always a towel hanging on the back of the door knob and I’m supposed to strip off and dry myself there, but I didn’t want to do that with the man waiting in the shadows behind me, so I just stood there dripping onto the floor.

  The power was out and the kitchen was lit up with candles. The floods mess with our electricity—as soon as something gets wet, the whole system blows. Mum glanced back at me from where she was crouched in front of my sister, but she didn’t see the man. He stayed out of the glow of candlelight, waiting for me to call him in.

  My sister lives in a cabin a kilometre or so from us, but she often comes to stay when it’s flooding. Walks across the paddocks—there’s no creek between us. I looked her over in the candlelight and she didn’t seem good. She sat dully in a chair at the table, not meeting my eyes. Her forehead was all bruised, like she’d been banging her head against the wall. The baby sucked at her breast and swiped with wobbly fists at her damp hair, but she didn’t respond. Just looking at her lately hurt my eyes. ‘What happened?’ I asked softly.

  ‘You know,’ my mother answered, still squatting there, tending her.

  ‘Not that. What happened to her head?’

  Mum looked around at me.

  ‘The cupboards, you know. He closed all the cupboards. She’d open them, he’d close them. You don’t notice stuff like that till someone’s gone. She keeps banging her head on all the open doors.’

  I didn’t know what to say. Sophie’s bloke left a week or so ago. Just drove away. I guess she didn’t see it coming, though he never seemed like the surest bet to me. She’s got two babies on her own now. This little one and Rory.

  ‘Rory’s asleep in your bed,’ Mum said, stroking Sophie’s arm. I nodded, not knowing how to bring the man inside. I was used to my family, the odd way we hung together—the shape of us—but it was strange to see us from an outside view.

  ‘You got something there, love? That wet dog from next door trying to come in again? We’ve already got our own wet dog and I’ve shut her out the back. You’re not bringing in another.’

  My mum didn’t miss much.

  ‘A guy washed off the bridge in his car and I got him out,’ I said and waited for Mum to react. She was distracted by Sophie, but I saw the moment my words sank in.

  ‘Alive?’ Mum always thought the worst.

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t mean that. I’ve got him here.’

  The man stepped up behind me and I moved to the side so my mum could see him.

  ‘Not from around here?’ she asked him, frowning. She had a thing about stupidity. Dying for nothing. ‘You’re lucky to be alive.’

  ‘She saved my life.’ His voice was shaky, but he looked straight at Mum’s face.

  ‘Yes, she’s good at that, this one.’ Mum smiled across at me, just a flash and then it was gone. ‘How’d Bessie go?’

  ‘I’ve tied her up outside. Thought she might wander off.’

  ‘The calf?’

  ‘Looks good. Bit wonky at first.’

  ‘They all are.’

  Mum didn’t get up from the floor, but she turned around properly to look at us. I took off my raincoat and hung it on a hook on the back of the door. I was still pretty wet underneath. ‘He’s covered in birth gunk,’ I offered up. ‘It was all a bit grubby.’

  ‘I had to pick it up. She said it would drown.’

  Mum was quiet a second, thinking. ‘There’s no power, so the shower’s not working.’ We needed electricity to power the pump. ‘Grab a bar of soap,’ she pointed to the sink, ‘and then strip down out there and soap up. Wash off in the rain. I’ll bring you both towels.’
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br />   It was warm enough outside, even in the rain, but there was no way I was stripping anywhere near him. There was a time in my childhood when nudity was the norm, any excuse for a spontaneous strip-down, but nowadays I wasn’t buying it. There’d be enough water in the pipes to wash my hands in the bathroom while he was outside. I pulled the towel off the hook on the door. ‘It’s alright. I’m not that wet. I’ll go find us some clothes.’

  The sound of the rain was muted indoors, and after I cleaned myself up I found my way to the bedroom in the dark. That hush of little-fellow-sleeping filled the room. I stood there and breathed it in. I loved Rory, loved having him in my bed. Sometimes I imagined crossing the paddocks between us by moonlight and slipping into my sister’s bed. She’d be caught in between her babies, breathing in their sweet smell, and I’d snuggle in close and steal some of their easy sleep. I never actually did it, though there was nothing to stop me. I guess I knew I’d be there in the morning. Rory’s two and a bit, and when he’s awake he can be trouble.

  I changed out of my wet stuff, grabbing some clothes by touch. I didn’t know what to get the man, what he’d fit into. Slipping into Mum’s room, I had a feel around and came back out with an old pair of cargo shorts and a giant-sized jumper. She’s a big woman, my mum. He’d have to make do.

  Mum passed me in the hallway, the baby on her hip. She pulled Sophie gently along behind her. My sister gave me a crumpled-looking smile. I could see she’d been crying.

  ‘I’m just going to lie down with them,’ Mum whispered as she went by. ‘Try to get them both off to sleep. You’ll get him sorted out, won’t you? The flood guy? He’ll be feeling shaken up,’ Mum said, glancing towards at the kitchen. ‘It’s too much tonight. I just can’t deal with it.’

  I nodded. There wasn’t anything to say.

  He was standing in the doorway, wrapped in his towel. Except for the blue of his eyes up close, I hadn’t really taken in what he looked like. He was older than me, not sure how much. Maybe in his early thirties. He had an invisible quality, like if he stood still enough he’d camouflage in against the walls. I thought perhaps in the daylight he’d be handsome. I was careful of beautiful people. There was something untrustworthy about them. They’d always been the ruin of us.