by Jessie Cole
‘How’s the foot?’ she asked, putting Rory on the ground. He clung onto her leg, all sleepy-eyed.
‘Alright,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t bad.’
She sighed, looking up at the back veranda—the place where Old Dog used to be. After the vet, Mum had called her, letting her know that she was gone.
‘Mum said the flood guy bought you a new dog,’ she said, ruffling Rory’s hair. ‘A fancy one. That’s a bit of an investment.’ Sophie looked me over, and for once I wished her gaze was not so penetrating. ‘Where is it, then?’
‘I tied her up out the front. She keeps getting under Mum’s feet. She chewed the hearts out of a few of her bromeliads.’
‘Really?’ Sophie looked around, hiding a smile. ‘That’s bizarre.’
‘I know. What are the odds of getting a dog that likes to eat bromeliads?’
‘About a hundred to one,’ Sophie said, and I could see it tickled her fancy. Bromeliads were the only plants my mother really loved.
I got up from the wheel to go and untie the dog.
‘Come and meet her,’ I said to Rory, and he held out his hand for me to hold. When we got to the dog she was sitting, tail wagging against the ground, trying hard to control her enthusiasm. Rory was bamboozled by the new pup replacing the old. He couldn’t quite wrap his little mind around how such a swap would take place. He kept staring at her and saying again and again, ‘Mema, Old Dog was old,’ as if this should explain it, but it didn’t, and nothing really would.
Blossom was excited by Rory, recognising that he was fellow young pup. Once I let her off the leash she jumped straight up onto his back and knocked him over. It didn’t matter how many times I chastised her, she didn’t seem to believe this wasn’t great fun. In the end we went inside and sat on the couch. I held her still between my legs so Rory could get his bearings.
Even though I’d heard my mother’s words clearly, I found myself listening for the stranger’s footsteps on the dirt road, pining for the distant throb of Frank’s truck on our driveway, and in the end I heard it. Rory went speeding onto the front veranda, the puppy breaking free and following, running into the back of him and knocking him over so he landed face down on the old wooden slats. There was a graze and a bruise and he screamed, more in outrage than anything else. When Frank and Hamish stepped from the truck it was a general commotion that greeted them.
‘Hope she’s not already causing trouble,’ Hamish said and I could feel my mother’s irritation moving through the air towards him.
Frank stood back a little, holding his old hat in his hands, and Sophie took pity on him and asked if he wanted a cup of tea.
‘If you’ve got one on the boil,’ he said, and I could see him checking out our rusted gutters and all the peeling paint. I wondered then if he’d come to fix things then see what he could get.
Hamish looked at me, across the crying toddler and clumsy pup, but he didn’t step any closer. ‘Frank, you should see some of the pots and stuff in the shed,’ he said, motioning towards it with his head. ‘It’s pretty amazing in there.’
‘I’d like to see them. Would you …?’ Frank asked, looking across at Mum with just a touch of longing. Even though it was a set-up, how could she refuse?
Up on the veranda I stepped aside and Hamish came into the kitchen. The kettle had boiled and Sophie was pouring out the teas, Lila gurgling on her hip.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I met you properly. I’m Sophie.’ It was a pretty valiant effort at normality, considering the last time they’d encountered each other.
‘Hamish.’ He held out his hand to shake.
‘This is Lila.’ She smiled down at the baby. ‘And I’m sure you’ve already met Rory.’
Rory was standing, clinging onto my leg, tears still pooled in the corners of his eyes, warily watching out for the pup. He didn’t bother saying hi to Hamish.
‘How do you have your tea?’ Sophie asked.
‘However. I don’t mind.’ I guess Hamish knew we had limited options in the tea department.
The teas brewed on the benchtop and I watched the steam rise. Hamish sat down at the kitchen table and the puppy wandered over, finding her way to his feet. She sat right down on his shoe, leaning back against his leg, and he bent down and rubbed her ears.
‘What did you call her?’ he asked me, breaking the silence.
‘Blossom.’ Saying that word, I couldn’t look at his face.
‘Pretty,’ Sophie said, glancing between us, swapping Lila onto her other hip. She motioned Rory over for a hug, and he sniffled and let go of my leg.
‘Baby-girl, can you take the teas out?’ she asked me. ‘I can’t hold this lot and carry them.’
My nickname sounded odd in company. I nodded, but there was a part of me that felt shunted off like a child.
In the shed Frank was listening carefully as Mum told him how the wheel worked. He’d linked his fingers behind his back, as though to keep from touching anything. I stood a moment watching them. Frank kept breaking in to clarify some minor mechanical working. He asked question after question, keeping up the talk. He listened intently, hanging on Mum’s every word. I felt I was intruding, but the teas were getting cold.
‘Where do you want these?’ I called into the shed.
Mum was startled but Frank turned around slowly, like he was accustomed to any eventuality. He stepped towards me, taking the mugs from my hands, and handing one to my mother.
‘And these ones are yours, Mema?’ he asked. ‘You made them?’
‘Yep.’
He picked one up in his spare hand, inspecting it.
‘Clever.’ He paused, and I knew I was going to be kept there for a bit while he asked me about the process in the same way he’d been asking Mum. All the time I was thinking of Hamish and Sophie holed up in the kitchen, wondering what they’d have to talk about, and getting agitated imagining it. Finally Frank turned his attention back to Mum and I made a getaway.
When I stepped up onto the veranda I fished around a second for the dog lead, thinking if Blossom was still terrorising Rory it’d be best to tie her up. I heard their voices drifting out the door towards me, and I couldn’t help it—I stood there and listened. Sophie seemed to be giving Hamish the third degree.
‘So, you got a girlfriend, then?’ I heard her ask. ‘Someone missing you back home?’ I sucked in my breath, waiting for his answer.
‘No one special,’ he said, but there was something unconvincing about it. I could hear what he was leaving out. There was someone. Just someone not that special. It hit me like a punch in the stomach, even though I knew that, all things considered, it was obvious he would. He’d come from a life full of others—with cups of coffee at cafés, galleries and museums and restaurants and all that other stuff he’d told me about. Of course he had someone. Someone to do all that stuff with. I stood there wondering what makes someone special.
‘And you travel a lot for work? Other places besides out here in the middle of nowhere?’ My sister’s voice was chipper, that’s how I knew she was fishing.
‘Yeah, it’s pretty good, really. Lots of different gigs. Sometimes it’s small contracts like this one, but other times it can be quite big. And, you know, because it’s always to do with environmental issues, often I get to see places off the beaten track.’ Hamish didn’t seem to mind the grilling. He was going with the flow.
‘Like here?’ Sophie said. ‘This is pretty off the beaten track.’
Hamish didn’t answer but I imagined him nodding. A part of me was afraid Sophie might move on to interrogating him about me so I stepped inside.
Hamish smiled as I came through the door. My skin tingled under his gaze. My sister stared so hard I imagined she could see the trace of every minuscule quiver beneath my skin.
‘How’s Anja?’ Sophie asked me suddenly. ‘I haven’t seen her for a while.’
Blossom was nestled there at Hamish’s feet, asleep, without a care in the world. I looked at her, still cherubic an
d new, and I wished, just for a second, that I could be like that too.
‘She hasn’t been here for a few days.’
The baby fussed a little on Sophie’s hip and she jiggled her around. Rory was quiet on the couch, looking at a picture book.
‘That’s unusual,’ Sophie said, sitting down at the table and pulling up her shirt to breastfeed. ‘Hope everything’s okay.’
‘I’ve seen her a few times, out and about.’ Hamish piped up, looking away from my sister’s pale breast. ‘She seems alright.’
We both looked at him then, sharply.
‘It’s weird, she’s the main person I seem to bump into,’ he said. ‘You know, when you see the same person everywhere you go?’
Sophie looked disturbed at this and the baby started up fretting at the breast. She turned aside, whispering to Lila. I didn’t know what to think about Anja. She must have been stalking him. It was something she’d do.
‘What kind of places?’ I asked, trying to sound normal.
‘I don’t know, just in town, I suppose.’ He tapped his fingers on the table. ‘It happens all the time in the city. You’ll notice some girl in a bookstore and then suddenly you’ll see her everywhere. I don’t know what it is.’
I tried to ignore how my stomach dipped at this mention of another girl. In the back of my mind I could see their faces. The girl who wasn’t special. The girl from the bookshop. All the girls he couldn’t remember. I guess Hamish didn’t realise that Anja rarely went into town. I could see this development had got my sister thinking. She didn’t look up from Lila’s face but I knew her mind would be working overtime piecing things together. Lila had settled and was doing her funny gutso sounds. It was pretty loud. Comical, really. Hamish was going faintly pink—that creeping blush poking out of the top of his shirt. I felt sorry for him, stuck in the middle of all this woman-drama.
‘You want to go check out the calf?’ I asked, and even I knew it was a clumsy way to make an exit. Hamish stood up so quick Blossom toppled off his feet. He bent down to give her a pat.
‘She can come.’ I still had the lead in my hand. We didn’t have a collar yet, so I wrapped the lead around her neck and clicked it back on itself.
Hamish watched me and then he said, ‘Resourceful, Mema. That’s what you are,’ echoing Frank’s words that day in the truck. I didn’t turn around to see what Sophie thought of that. I just walked with Hamish and the pup right out the door.
18.
We stood on the rise of the hill, the roll of the paddocks spreading out before us. They were empty of cattle, ’cause we only had Bessie. For a period she’d kept breaking the fences, searching out a mate. ‘Bulling,’ Frank called it, as he herded her back to our side. ‘She’s just bulling.’ He’d managed to say it with a completely straight face, but it was hard not to laugh. She’d gotten herself knocked up—quick smart—and then she’d settled down. And now there was the calf.
Bessie was a little like a dog—she came when she was called—but I waited until we were out of sight of the house before I sang out her name. Nothing moved for a bit, then we saw a flicker of brown in the trees way off in the distance and she trotted slowly up towards us, the calf straggling along behind.
‘Wow, it’s gotten bigger.’ Hamish held up his hand to block out the sun. ‘Looks healthy.’
‘Yeah.’
As Bessie got closer, Blossom started to fret. I suppose it was only natural, she’d never been close to a cow. She pulled on the lead, trying to get away, and then ran round me, wrapping me up in the rope.
‘She’s at that silly stage,’ I said, and Hamish took the lead and helped me untangle her. Now that I had him alone I wasn’t quite sure what to say.
‘How’s the mill thing coming along?’ I asked, thinking work was a safe bet. ‘Find out lots of stuff?’
‘Yeah, I’ve talked to quite a few different people.’ He looked around at all the hills, taking in their shape. ‘The mill guys, the council, and a few of the local environmental groups.’
Bessie came right up, searching for my fingers. The pup rushed out in front of her in fright, pulling tight against the lead. Bessie stumbled backwards and behind her the calf recoiled, skittish and clumsy. They kept their distance then, warily, staring at us, unblinking.
Hamish pulled Blossom back, placing her between us.
‘Sit.’ His voice was firm, and she did so, no hesitation. He looked across at me, like there hadn’t even been an interruption. I was amazed at how calm Blossom was at his command, sitting there, watching Bessie and the calf.
‘And what have you found out?’ I wasn’t so much interested in his answer. I was listening, but I was more absorbed by the deep timbre of his voice.
‘There are a few hitches. There always are. Cane is seasonal and there isn’t much to burn in the off-season. They’ve been on the lookout for an alternative source of fuel.’
‘Alternative?’
It was like he was telling me a story about another place. Some far-off land where these types of things happened.
‘Yeah, something else to burn.’
I couldn’t think when he was standing so close.
‘If you throw another fuel source into the mix, I don’t know if it ends up being all that ecologically friendly. Depending, I suppose, on what it is.’
I nodded, though I didn’t really know what he meant.
‘It’s complicated, Mema.’ He turned back to the hills. ‘It’s so green here. It’s amazing. All those trees.’
The camphors. ‘They’re beautiful, aren’t they?’ I said.
‘They’re noxious weeds.’
I looked at him sideways. After our fight about the cane toads, it was hard to tell if he was goading me.
‘I love them.’ I didn’t care what category they fell under.
‘I know that.’ His voice was soft, gentle even.
‘When will you be finished?’ I made myself ask him. I didn’t really want to think about endings, but I knew that I should.
‘I’m not sure. Not too much longer.’
Hearing those words made my chest hurt.
‘I’ve always wanted a dog,’ he said, left of field.
I looked down at Blossom, and in that moment she seemed more his than mine.
‘Why don’t you get one?’ I asked, thinking maybe I should give her back. I didn’t want to, but maybe I should.
He rubbed the back of his head. ‘You know, I travel too much. You can’t have a dog when you do that. It’s not fair.’
‘What about a girlfriend?’ The words slipped out of my mouth. I felt my skin prickle. ‘Can you have one of those?’
He looked at me and I knew he could feel it. My yearning hanging there between us like some kind of bright flag.
‘That’s a little different.’ He held my gaze. ‘The right girl won’t hang about waiting for me to come home. She’ll be busy, her own thing going on. Not like a dog that just mourns you the whole time you’re gone.’
‘Have you found one? A right girl?’ I felt my voice quaver.
‘Finding a girl is easy, Mema,’ he said. ‘Someone who’s fun for a few weeks—but finding one that you want to spend more time with is harder.’
‘Have you ever been in love?’ It was a small sentence. Six little words.
‘A few times.’ He looked down at the pup. ‘But I could count the girls I’ve loved on the fingers of one hand.’ Blossom looked up at him and he reached out and gave her a stroke. ‘It’s always hard.’
‘Hard?’ I don’t know why I was surprised, it wasn’t exactly new information.
‘Yeah, for me that kind of thing has always been hard.’
I thought about that. Love seemed most problematic when it wasn’t returned. But what did I know?
Standing out in the paddock—out of sight of the others, the afternoon light beginning to fade—it would have been the perfect moment for him to broach the space between us, but he didn’t. I could feel myself shifting a little closer. The s
hafts of hope still glowing somewhere within, inextinguishable.
‘Mema,’ he said, and I felt myself tilting towards him. ‘You know I really like you,’ he said the words carefully, each one clear and precise, ‘but … as a friend.’
Whatever moment I’d imagined was crushed, like a clean piece of paper scrunched into a ball. Even though no one had ever said those words to me before, there was something familiar about them, something bitter and forlorn. My eyes stung, my stomach rolled. I couldn’t stutter out an answer, so he just kept going.
‘You might not care either way,’ he said, ‘but I get the feeling from your family that … they think I’m playing with you.’
I wondered if he could see my hurt. I felt like my skin was splitting, exposing my insides.
‘And yeah, we’ve all done that. But … you’re a different type of girl and … I really like you.’
Those words again. I must have uttered some kind of sound ’cause the pup jumped up and moved towards me. Hamish leaned over and handed me back the lead. I hung onto it with numb fingers while she sniffed around my feet.
‘In a few days I’ll be gone,’ he said softly. ‘I know how fresh you are. I wouldn’t mess with that.’
My body was stiff with the effort not to cry. I was stranded, not wanting to go back inside, but wishing I didn’t have to stand here, my hurt spilling from my skin. Hamish was quiet, gazing at the trees.
‘What if you weren’t leaving?’ I choked out. It surprised me that my heavy tongue could still form words. ‘Would you mess with me then?’
He looked across at me, his eyes scanning my face. ‘I don’t know, Mema,’ he said, ‘but I am leaving, so it doesn’t matter.’
I guess it mattered to me.
‘Me and you, we’re funny,’ he continued. ‘I feel like I’ve known you forever. Almost from the start. I’ve never been like that with other people. I guess I’m a bit of a lone wolf.’ He smiled, and I could see he wanted to get moving. ‘If you had a bloody email address then we could keep being friends.’
I knew he was half teasing me, but I didn’t much feel like laughing. The silence hung there like an early morning fog.