Tsunami

by Robin Stewart

Chapter 13 Life not the same as before

  Noah's grandmother was transferred to a large city hospital. By ambulance.

  The angiogram and the fitting of a stent to fix a blocked heart artery seemed, to Noah, to be happening to somebody else. Not his Gran. Not after all they'd been through together.

  "She’ll be out of hospital in a few days time," said Adam, reassuringly, "like my Nan."

  Surprised, Noah asked, "Did she have a heart attack too?”

  "Yes, only a few months ago, but she’s great now!"

  Four days later, in a plan that involved a complicated pickup of Noah from the farm and his grandmother from hospital, Noah's family arrived at the bridge which previously connected the island to the mainland.

  "It looks a wreck!" exclaimed Noah, gazing in astonishment at the shattered remains of the giant structure. His own emotions felt wrecked too, but he was keeping a very tight lid on them. Keeping them under lock and key.

  "It was almost completely swept away, so the reconstruction work is taking a long time," responded his father. "We've had to use a ferry to get on and off the island."

  Noah's feelings were decidedly wobbly: like a poorly set jelly. They swung from happiness, to numbness, to a strange despair. The rainforest called him. Old man Snow and the pelicans continued to haunt his dreams.

  Naturally, Gran was his anchor.

  "Your grandmother will stay here with us," said Noah's mother, as she unlocked the door to their house and stepped inside, "until her house is rebuilt and she's completely well again."

  Noah was pleased that Gran would be living with his family. He thought he was pleased to be home, but he was not quite sure. No one, thought Noah, realises how much I've changed, except Gran. They think I'm the same as before. But I'm not. I'm different.

  Noah was expected to fit into family routines in the same way he did before the tsunami. Do the same things. Say the same things. Think the same things. But how could he, when he felt so different?

  Whenever Noah tried to tell his family what it was like in the dinghy or in the rainforest, their eyes glazed over, and soon they were backing off, eager to get on with their jobs or watch the television. It was as if Noah’s tsunami adventure was both unimportant and uninteresting to them.

  Noah felt hurt.

  Journalists, on the other hand, hounded Noah for his story. But his parents refused permission for Noah to talk about his adventures during and after the tsunami. As far as his mother and father were concerned, the whole unfortunate incident was best swept under the carpet.

  But Noah wanted to talk. Needed to talk.

  He knew that he loved his mother, but he found himself getting annoyed when she fussed about his clothes, and tried to stop him eating with his fingers, leaving dishes in the sink and dropping clothes on the floor.

  Being told what to do was irritating, especially when he was going to do it anyway! He was not used to being told what to do. Back in the rainforest, his grandmother had let him make his own decisions. Let him live with the consequences.

  The television’s flashing lights and noise clashed with his memories of the peace and quietness of the rainforest. Of natural sounds and sights. Of Nature, unspoiled.

  He was not sure that he wanted to watch TV anymore. Even footy. Even programs that had been his favourites. He’d lost interest in these things.

  Confused, Noah felt like he didn't belong any more: either to his family, or to modern day society. He was beginning to feel like old man Snow. Beginning to understand why somebody would go bush.

  His grandmother was the only person who made him feel good about himself.

  The subject of Prince, Star and Coo was brought up on his fourth day home. There were complaints. Fiercely, Noah defended and protected the trio. Noah's father thought that Prince should be returned to Peggy and Matt Wilson. Peggy and Matt said that Noah was welcome to keep the golden retriever.

  Noah’s mother thought that Star should be returned to Mrs Cook's farm. Mrs Cook said that Noah's garden was big enough for a goat, so if he wanted to keep her, he could.

  Nobody seemed to own Coo. Nobody wanted her back.

  But Noah wanted to keep them all! They were his family now. These animals had shared a vital part of his life, and the thought of losing them distressed him greatly.

  However, Noah's parents were getting upset too. But over such stupid things, muttered Noah, indignantly. Like Star eating the roses. Like Star chewing the sheets off the clothes line. Like Coo doing poo on the mantelpiece. Like Prince shedding hair on the carpet.

  As Noah vacuumed the family room, he sucked in his breath and mumbled resentfully, "As if a dog deliberately drops hair to annoy people and cause housework.

  "I liked it better in the rainforest," he continued to himself. "I didn't know about wars or terrorist attacks. There were no carpets to get dirty. No homework to do -- -- --.

  "And on the farm, Red and Jess let me have Prince inside, and gave Star and Coo a garden all of their own -- -- -- --.”

  Noah paused with the vacuum mid-air and then said to himself, "But it's going to be great having Adam here for the school holidays. At least he loves animals."

  Coming into the room, Noah's grandmother sensed his mood and said soothingly, "We've experienced a huge stress and an entirely different lifestyle. It'll take time for us to settle back into life on the island.

  "I'm having trouble too," she continued quietly. Then she said with a twinkle in her eye, "How about we do an escape to my place?”

  They didn't even tell anyone where they were going!

  Together they walked towards the sunset. Towards the dunes the moon birds called home. On the way, they passed what remained of Gran's house.

  "It's completely ruined," said Gran, "but somehow I don't seem to care."

  The shed and the old water tank had disappeared. The old cypress tree was struggling to hold onto life. The path was strewn with seaweed bleached white by the sun.

  Out in the rookery, a whole breeding season had been lost. And the sand was a mess of sea debris, building materials and rubbish.

  Noah's grandmother sighed and then said, "I’ll rebuild my house. And we'll clean up the rookery. Next September will mark a new beginning. The moon birds will return from their migration, dig new burrows, mate, lay eggs, rear their chicks -- -- -- and all will be well.

  "There will be no more tsunamis," concluded Gran firmly. "You and I will get on with our lives and be safe and happy."

  Gran took Noah's hand in hers. Together they looked towards the sunset. Towards the dunes where the sandy earth was marked by thousands of webbed footprints.

  Below the surface, however, there were no burrows. No chicks covered in soft grey, fluffy down. The tsunami had destroyed them all.

  The moon was rising in the eastern sky. Full and golden.

  Noah and his grandmother watched the moon birds come into view; tiny specks along a pathway of light leading them from the moon to their island home.

  Soon, thousands of moon birds were flying around the rookery. Fast and close together; playing in the air currents; flapping their wings then gliding; chuckling noisily as they circled what remained of their rookery. The place of their birth.

  They swooped and glided, drifted and floated, flapped and hovered. Memories swirled in and around Noah's mind: misty, mysterious memories.

  Of the moon birds warning him, with their shrieking moans as they skimmed the waves then lifted to soar over Gran’s house. Of his grandfather's dingy on top of the roof.

  Of a great grey wall of water. A rush of wind. A mighty roar.

  Of feeling sick and frightened.

  Of being lost in torrential rain on an endless open sea.

  Of rescuing a retriever dog, a goat kid and a pigeon.

  Of a magical rainforest, and a cave and lean-to shelter. A blazing campfire, and a thicket of luscious blackberries. Meals of fish, crab, crayfish, shellfish and greens.
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  Of old man Snow and his pelicans. Of the farm and his new friend, Adam.

  "I miss your grandfather so much," murmured Gran sadly. "It's been five years since he died and it never gets any easier.”

  Noah heard the ocean sing a soft sad song. He heard the ocean breathing in and out. In and out. He breathed in a rich blend of sea salt and rotting seaweed. And the musky smell of moon birds.

  Gran sat down on the spongy grass that held the soft sandy soil together.

  "Can you feel the earth breathing?" she asked.

  "Yes," replied Noah softly, as a wonderful smile lit up his face.

  "I’m part of this island and the sea," he continued, "part of the mountains, rivers and rainforest. The birds and animals are my friends. But the moon birds -- -- -- they give me strength to go on."

  For a few moments everything was absolutely still.

  And in that mystical stillness, Noah caught sight of an ancient man with his arms wrapped around a pelican. A pelican with a long scar down one leg.

  Life and death merged to become one.

  And all was well.

  The End

  About the author

  Robin Stewart is an award-winning author and well-known as a person with a passion for animals. This she has combined with a career as a writer and teacher. Although conservation and the natural world are keen interests, Robin has also been active in breeding and showing Irish setters and Border collies, Anglo Nubian goats, stud sheep and stud cattle. At the present time, Robin and her husband Doug have two German shepherds (Del and Major Mitchell), a Siamese cat called Katie, and a 35-year-old stumpy-tailed lizard known as Stego.

  In the 1980s, Robin and Doug spent seven years on King Island in Bass Strait, where they owned a sheep property and established a penguin banding and research program on their coastline.

  At present, Robin and her husband Doug live 6 months on Phillip Island (home of the famous Little Penguins) and six months at Mitchell in outback Queensland. Robin writes full-time, while at the same time studying mutton birds on Phillip Island and outback life at Mitchell.

  Robin has a keen sense of curiosity and a great love of animals.

  Other children’s books by Robin Stewart

  Moonbird, a novel for teenagers

  New Faces: The Complete Book of Alternative Pets (Children’s Book Council of Australia Book of the Year Award 1995)

  From Seeds to Leaves Publisher: Black Inc, Melbourne.

  Envirocat: A New Approach to Caring for Your Cat and Protecting Native Wildlife Publisher: Hyland House. Distributor: The Australian Book Group, Drouin, Victoria.

  The Dog Book: How to Choose a Dog That Suits Your Personality and Lifestyle Publisher: Hyland House. Distributor: The Australian Book Group, Drouin, Victoria.

  Wombat Bush Babies Solo Series Publisher: Omnibus: Scholastic

  Koala Bush Babies Solo Series Publisher: Omnibus: Scholastic

  Alternative Pets: From Budgies and Yabbies to Rabbits and Rats Publisher: Hyland House. Distributor: The Australian Book Group, Drouin, Victoria.

  Darwin's Tortoise Publisher: Black Inc, Melbourne.

  Charles Darwin's Big Idea Short-listed Children’s Book Council of Australia Book of the Year Award 2006. Publisher: Hyland House. Distributor: The Australian Book Group, Drouin, Victoria.

  Connect with Me Online

  Twitter:https://twitter.com/outbackauthor

  My blog:https://robinsoutbackblog.blogspot.com