Deeper Water

by Jessie Cole

  I must have been frowning ’cause he asked what was wrong.

  ‘I haven’t seen her for a while, that’s all.’

  He tried to catch my eye.

  ‘Mema, it’s about the trees.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The mill is going to start burning the trees.’

  I had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘I mean, in the cane season they’ll burn the cane waste, but out of season they’re going to start harvesting the camphors.’

  I still couldn’t comprehend it. ‘The camphors?’

  ‘Yeah, they’re considered noxious weeds—I know you know that—so they’ll pay contractors to come in and knock them down and chip them in the paddocks. Then they’ll pay the farmers for the woodchips. Burn them up for green energy.’ He drummed his fingertips against the table. ‘Everybody’s happy.’

  ‘The trees?’ He’d got my attention now. ‘The camphors?’

  He nodded. ‘Well, wood is considered a renewable energy, ’cause trees can grow back. I think it’s a loophole myself, burning wood is more polluting even than coal, but I’m not in charge.’

  In my mind the hills were on fire.

  ‘I mean, it might be different if there were plans to regenerate the native forest, but of course that isn’t on the table.’

  ‘But …’ I stuttered out, ‘… how can that happen?’

  ‘Well, if there’s money to be made …’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I’m telling you now.’

  Around me the land dissolving in smoke. It was too much all at once—Anja missing, Hamish leaving, my brothers so long gone. It felt like everything was slipping from my grasp. I covered my eyes with my hands.

  ‘Mema,’ he said, ‘I’m going to be gone tomorrow, so it’ll be your fight. I just wanted to give you a heads up.’

  ‘My fight?’

  ‘It’s a tricky one ’cause the environmentalists don’t like the camphors either. The cane toads of the forest, so to speak. So it’ll be hard to get them onside.’

  Hamish reached across and pulled my hands from my face.

  ‘Mema,’ his voice was soft, ‘this is important.’

  I tried to look at him but it was a lot to take in.

  ‘They’re going to chip them in the paddocks?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But there’ll be nothing left.’

  ‘Well, technically even bush regenerators don’t advocate clear-felling trees, even if they are noxious weeds—damage to waterways, loss of seed stock, all that stuff—but because there’s money involved I don’t think anyone will make too much noise.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Except maybe the animal activists.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Well, animals find protection in those forests. Natives. A few koalas, possums, smaller marsupials. Some people won’t like that.’

  I felt like I’d been whacked on the head from behind. My ears were ringing, my brain slow.

  ‘Mema, you’ve got to pay attention.’ He tapped me on the arm, gently. ‘There’s this guy, he lives in one of the next towns along, and he’s an expert on endangered frogs.’

  His words seemed to come from far away, but I nodded.

  ‘He’s one of those bio-nerds, been studying this particular species for a while. I haven’t met him but we’ve been emailing.’

  ‘Bio-nerds?’

  ‘University types that specialise in one animal or plant, something so obscure no one’s ever heard of it.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So, he’s been studying this frog that only really exists in your region. And guess where it lives?’

  I didn’t answer, just sort of shook my head.

  ‘In the creeks around your place … and in the camphors.’

  ‘Frogs?’

  ‘Right. I mean, they wouldn’t have originally been camphor dwellers, but they’ve adapted,’ Hamish continued. ‘So, I’ve got his number here, and his email, and a printout of our correspondence. I’ve been carrying it around, hoping I’d see you.’ He pulled out a couple of folded pages from his pocket. ‘I think you are going to need him.’ He handed me the papers. ‘I told him you’d get in touch.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Mema, no one cares about the camphors. Only you. If you want to stop this mill thing, you’re going to have to get out of your comfort zone.’

  ‘And do what?’

  ‘Well, talk to this guy first. Tom’s his name.’

  I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine ringing up a stranger to talk about frogs.

  ‘I know it’s not your thing,’ Hamish said carefully, ‘but I think you’d be good at it.’

  I didn’t quite know what he was referring to. ‘What?’

  ‘Mema, you got to love the world to want to save it.’ His eyes glowed, lighting up his face, almost evangelical.

  ‘When will they start?’

  ‘I’m not exactly sure, but it could be as early as next week. The burning won’t start yet, but they’re going to start felling the trees and stockpiling the woodchips.’

  ‘How come no one’s talking about it?’

  ‘They are, Mema.’ He fished the phone from his pocket and checked the time. ‘There’s a lot of talk about it around town ’cause of the potential to generate cash.’

  I guess we hadn’t heard.

  ‘Mema, I’ve got to go. I thought I’d be done days ago but I’ve still got things to sort out.’ He fished some cash from his pocket, handing me three tens. ‘Here’s the money I owe you from the other day. I meant to pay you back when I brought the dog but I forgot.’

  I had the notes in one hand and his printout in the other. My throat constricted, it was hard to swallow.

  ‘You’ll tell your company it’s no good?’ I stammered out. ‘The ones you consult for?’

  ‘That’s why they pay me.’ He looked at my face. ‘They won’t buy in, but they aren’t the only possible investors.’

  He moved to stand. I followed, tucking all the stuff he’d given me into my pocket. Hamish paid at the counter. I didn’t even think to offer him my share. He had a few words with the dimpled girl and I walked out to stand on the street. When he met me on the pavement we both looked at the ground.

  ‘You know what the funny thing is?’ he asked me, and I shook my head, still all foggy and slow like I’d taken a knock.

  ‘Those little endangered frogs, they don’t look much different from cane toads when they’re small.’

  I watched his face then, focusing in, and he glanced up a bit shy.

  ‘He emailed me some pictures. To compare. When they are little they look almost the same.’

  I don’t know why, but I felt this was Hamish’s way of saying sorry. A sideways, lopsided apology.

  ‘Well, goodbye Mema,’ he said, and I could tell he was trying to decide whether to hug me. I didn’t much feel like having him that close. I lifted a hand to wave and he lifted his, mirroring me.

  ‘Come find me in the city if you ever get out.’ He nodded, looking grave. ‘My email’s on the page.’ He pointed at my pocket. ‘Come find me. I want you to.’

  I waved my hand and just like that he turned around and walked away. I watched his shiny new shirt from behind, but he didn’t look back. Not even once.

  I stood outside the Savoy, stunned and blinking, as if the sun was shining in my eyes, though I was well under the front awning. I couldn’t get my bearings. The street of my town rose around me, buildings large and surreal.

  Tomorrow Hamish would be gone. Anja was still missing. And the trees were going to burn.

  I stumbled on towards the post office, not knowing quite why. I didn’t see the man till he was right in front of me.

  ‘Hey, Mema.’

  I looked up, startled, ’cause I didn’t know his name.

  ‘Wanna come for a walk to the river?’

  He was youngish, stocky, dry lipped and greedy looking. Something about his eyes disturbed me. I
shook my head and tried to walk past.

  ‘What? Too good for me?’ He grabbed my arm.

  ‘What are you doing?’ My voice came out quiet, swallowed.

  ‘Heard you been fucking Billy’s brains out.’ The words dropped from his mouth like they were nothing special, but my cheeks stung as though I’d been slapped. He stepped up real close. ‘Thought you might be up for it. Like mother, like daughter.’ His grip on my arm tightened.

  ‘What?’ I tried to twist myself free but he held on.

  ‘I’d give ya something,’ he hissed. ‘I heard Billy doesn’t even pay.’

  I stared at him a moment, seeing the hardness in his smile. His fingers were digging into my skin. I tried to wrench myself free but he held firm, pulling me even closer.

  ‘Don’t fight it,’ he whispered. ‘I know ya want it.’ He stepped sideways off the edge of the footpath, tugging me along after him. ‘Come on, Mema,’ he urged, and I realised he was prepared to drag me.

  Must have been instinct, but I kicked him then, in the shins with my old black boots, and he grunted, loosening his grip. Jerking away, I stepped around him real quick and ran. I loped down the street, everything blurring with tears. When I burst into the post office I couldn’t breathe. The air was stuck in my throat. I was clogged with tears.

  ‘Honey,’ Rosie said, taking me in. ‘What happened?’

  I could feel the grip of the man’s fingers on my skin, the force of his hold. His words echoed around in my head.

  Like mother, like daughter.

  I lifted my arm to cover my face.

  Heard you been fucking Billy’s brains out.

  What Billy and I had done was so private, so unspeakable, I’d never thought he might talk about it. Or how those words would come to light. What they’d sound like once they moved from the cover of night. The morphing of something beautiful into something plain and ordinary, dirty even.

  I heard Billy doesn’t even pay.

  I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes and Rosie carried a chair out from behind the counter and hovered beside me making comforting sounds. I sat down, but I couldn’t speak, only cry, odd hiccupping sobs. Her husband stood against the back wall, sorting mail, envelopes in hand. He peered at me, detached but curious.

  ‘I’ll go check the street,’ he said after a minute, stepping outside.

  ‘Something give you a fright?’ Rosie asked, tentatively touching my shoulder.

  I nodded, but there was no way I was talking about it.

  ‘Snake?’ she asked. ‘Or something else?’

  Rosie had worked in the post office as long as I could remember, but I’d never been physically close to her. She’d never come over to the other side of the counter. I’d only ever seen her from the waist up. As though she was half a person. She was bigger than I’d thought. Solid and hearty.

  I shook my head, my sobbing slowing. Embarrassment creeping in.

  ‘Not a snake.’ My voice croaked. It was an odd thing to get precious about—but I would never be scared like that by a snake.

  ‘You have a run-in with someone?’ Rosie asked, looking me up and down.

  I shook my head, snuffling my nose against the back of my hand.

  Rosie passed me a tissue. ‘I’ve known you since you were just a little thing and I’ve never seen you do anything but smile.’

  I blew my nose a little and rolled the tissue into a ball, looking around for a bin.

  ‘Your mum used to come in here in all those pretty clothes, bells tinkling round her ankles, pop you right up on the counter. Such a happy thing you were, always holding out your little arms for a cuddle. Used to make my day.’

  I remembered a lot, but I had no memory of that.

  ‘I always used to watch you tagging along behind those big brothers of yours.’ Rosie stood beside me talking, lightly rubbing my shoulder. ‘Saw you got a postcard from one of them. That’s good news, hey? Nearly broke your mother’s heart to see them go, one by one like that. She just plain wilted.’

  I nodded, still holding the tissue.

  ‘She wasn’t your classic beauty, your mum. But she had something.’

  This took me by surprise.

  ‘When she first moved here with that fella of hers—Sophie’s dad—all the blokes in town … well, they all went wild.’ Rosie sighed. ‘But that was a different time, all that fresh blood flooding in from the cities, everyone trying new things. They shook things up around here, I can tell you.’

  ‘Bloody hippies …’ I muttered, knowing that’s how the town saw us.

  Rosie smiled. ‘It was a good thing, Mema. Town needed a shake-up.’

  I couldn’t help remembering how big the world had once seemed. Full of people, full of promise. They’d all moved on to some other more forgiving place.

  ‘You remind me of her at your age.’ Rosie said that like it was a good thing. ‘I guess people must say that all the time.’

  ‘No one,’ I sniffed. ‘I’m all dark, like my dad was.’

  Rosie raised her eyebrows. ‘No, you’re pretty in just the same way as your mum. Colouring’s a little different, but that’s nothing. People get fooled so easy.’

  I felt like she was trying to tell me something but I didn’t know what.

  ‘She’s strong, your mum. Took care of the bunch of you all on her own. You never see her turn to drink like half this town, even when life throws her a bum deal.’

  That was true enough.

  ‘And the way she took on Jim’s girl after the mother died. Tried to keep her safe. No one else lifted a finger.’

  Anja.

  ‘You seen her lately?’ I asked, remembering why I’d come.

  Rosie’s fingers stilled on my back.

  ‘The wildcard? She’s usually with you.’

  ‘I haven’t seen her for a bit.’

  ‘Oh.’ Rosie peered out the window behind me, checking the street. ‘Well, she was hanging about in town making eyes at that newcomer, but I haven’t seen her for a few days. Jim’s been causing trouble at the pub, but that’s nothing new.’

  Rosie’s husband stepped back in from the street. ‘Couldn’t see nothing. That Tony what’s-his-face was lurking around, though.’ He looked at me sharp. ‘I told him to fuck off. He say something to ya?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know who he is.’

  ‘Best to stay away from him,’ Rosie’s husband said. ‘He’s …’

  ‘A bit of a fuckwit,’ she finished for him. ‘Let’s not beat around the bush.’

  I guess that much was true.

  ‘He hightailed it,’ the man said, watching me real close. ‘He didn’t touch ya, did he?’

  I thought of the man’s grip on my arm, the way he’d pulled me. No one had ever touched me like that.

  ‘I just—’ The wrongness of it made my belly roll. I shook my head to try to clear it.

  ‘You want a glass of water?’ Rosie asked, gesturing to her bloke to go and get it. They lived out the back and he went over and came out with a glass, handing it across the counter to Rosie who gave it to me.

  Sipping the water, I wondered about Anja. Where she could be. ‘You haven’t seen Anja in town? For a few days?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Child services should have done something,’ Rosie said. ‘Not left her up there. She needed protection.’

  I knew Rosie was right, but if they’d taken Anja away I’d never have gotten to know her.

  ‘Your mum tried to take her in, you know, as a foster carer, but it wasn’t far enough away, she just kept on running back up the hill.’

  No one had ever told me that. Funny the things you didn’t know, even when it was your own mum. I sat there sipping water, imagining Anja really was my sister. We’d always pretended to be related.

  ‘I hope she gets away someday,’ Rosie said, moving back behind the counter. ‘This place isn’t right for a girl like her.’

  I took a last sip of the water, wondering what sort of girl this pl
ace was right for.

  ‘Thanks, Rosie,’ I said, standing up and putting the glass on the counter. My hand was still shaking. ‘I better go. Sophie’ll be waiting.’

  ‘Alright, sweetheart. You take care now.’

  From the doorway, I peered outside, scanning for Tony, but there was no sign of him. I looked back at Rosie one more time before I stepped out the door. It was odd, but I felt like she could see inside me, all my secrets. Like I was suddenly laid bare.

  26.

  All the way home I could smell smoke. I was so dazed I was thinking it was inside my brain, but then Sophie wound down the car window and sniffed the air.

  ‘I think there’s a fire,’ she said, peering along the road. ‘Strange, when it’s been so wet.’

  I sat up straighter, looking around. The air was a touch hazy.

  ‘Maybe someone’s burning off,’ she added.

  Sophie hadn’t said anything when I’d arrived at the park all puffy-faced. I’d run the whole way, watching out for Tony, but no one stepped into my path. I was out of breath when I got there. Sophie just put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. I didn’t know how to tell her what had happened.

  ‘No Anja?’ she asked, now we were back on the road.

  ‘Rosie hasn’t seen her.’

  ‘You see the flood guy in town?’

  Nodding, I felt my chest tighten.

  ‘Bumped into Lorraine.’ Sophie paused a second, I could feel her weighing her words. ‘She said he had a thing going on with that waitress girl.’

  I looked back out the window. What could I say?

  ‘That sucks, Mema.’ I guess it was sweet of her not to say I told you so.

  ‘It’s alright,’ I said, thinking of the smoke and what was going to happen to the trees. They hadn’t started chipping the camphors yet, so it couldn’t be those that were burning. And the mill always had a smoky plume. Surely if they were already camphor-burning it wouldn’t make the whole sky hazy.

  ‘He wasn’t right for you.’ Sophie said that real quiet, tentatively. I didn’t know if it was true. I didn’t know anything. ‘Baby-girl,’ she whispered, ‘the first one’s always hard.’

  That made me think of Billy. I wanted to cover my face again but I didn’t. The haze was getting thicker, the sky white not blue. ‘Shit,’ Sophie said, ‘I hope it’s not close to us.’