by Matt Pike
All the tables within had been pushed up against the service counter at the back. The walkway to the side was blocked with debris, so the easiest access point was climbing over the counter and into the kitchen area. From there, it was a smorgasbord of cookware. We grabbed three huge pots and a couple of smaller ones, filled them with a bunch of utensils and cutlery, then went on our way. Oh, I nabbed a few bottles of red as well. Figured we might have things worth celebrating tonight.
Easy as that.
Same with the fuel syphoning. I must admit to being slightly relieved when all the telltale signs of a car underneath turned out to actually be signs of a car underneath - reputation intact. Still, there are real tells in the ash when you know what to look for. The way it rises, the shape of the ash that has nestled, the waves in the surface - they’re all little half signs, but when you put them all together, you end up with a significant object underneath more times than not.
Anyway, we dug down far enough to expose the fuel latch, then jemmied it open with a screwdriver. We then dug a little channel and hole for the jerrycan to sit below the fuel tank, stuck in a hosepipe, sucked, then let gravity do the rest. The jerrrycans were filled in no time. We slipped them back into their hidey hole amongst the wood, balanced the pots on top as best we could, then began the long trip home.
It was all so easy. I couldn’t help but think about that on the way back. I mean, we were heading to the wild west frontier where nothing was easy. Not entirely sure what I made of it, other than missing the simplicity of a raid. I guess, with the way things were at the moment, we had the simplicity of living life off the land, well sea, and it seemed both simplicities didn’t mesh.
I tried to set my sights on the new simplicity, but this was a big reminder of what I missed.
That was soon lost from my mind as Jessie and I resumed our conversation about the note and what it meant. It was about as exciting as news could get in this world. The anticipation of soon being able to deliver that to the others had us buzzing. I couldn’t wait to see the look in Steph’s eyes when she found out Shane was alive.
Shane was alive. Hell, forget Steph for a moment, that does amazing things for me. We are the founders of the oval, the creators of a real chance at a future in this place. Him living brings all sorts of hope to me. Not only for him… yes, and Steph… but for what that might mean at a bigger level. I’m not sure I can put this in words, but his survival somehow makes me think there could still be happy endings. Around the oval, our group, everything. Even if that is wishful thinking, the news will keep me buoyed for some time to come.
There was something I missed, what was that? Ah, yeah, time. That was the other huge factor on this trip. The restaurant and car raid was as in and out as you could imagine - post-rock 101. So, too, collecting the wood. And it should continue to be so going forward. We cherry picked the best of the best, but there was so much more we could’ve taken. There’s enough lying around that we’ll be able to load and go at a moment’s notice for the foreseeable future. In fact, the biggest time drag, by far, was the trip back to the jail.
All of which meant we were back to base by the time lunch was being served. I don’t really know why I mention all this, other than I’m still coming to terms with this new future we’ve found ourselves building. As much as I’m challenged and keen to embrace it, I miss what we had so much. It burns. Anyway, something about cruising back up there and it being so easy and not costing a day, well, I don’t know, maybe it’s what I needed. Just the thought that the bridge between the old world and this one really isn’t that much.
*
Back at camp we were soon unloading the goods. We kept the plants hidden until all the hard work was done and we headed to lunch. It was fish on the menu, for the record. Anyway, we’d let everyone know there was news, just to ensure everyone was out for their feed at the same time. It was then I revealed the plants and told our story. More importantly, Kent, Shane and either Trav or Trent.
Now, I have my fair share of experience bringing good news back to camp. But I honestly can’t think of a moment that comes close to what happened today. There were cries of joy, stunned bewilderment, tears, hugs, laughter and probably a dozen other things I’ve forgotten. What I remember most was Steph. I was talking to everyone with the news, but at the same time, I was talking to her. She just broke down and wept. It’s hard to define the entirety in which it hit her - it was guttural, complete and from the very essence of her being. My heart equally broke and soared.
I soon closed the ground between us and hugged her. So vivid was that connection, it soon got to me. In a moment, I was lost in what Shane had meant to me, how much I’d missed him and what it felt like to realise he was alive. I can’t really describe it more than that, other than to say no amount of shovelling ash dunes and clearing junk could drain me as much as what I felt in that connection between Steph, myself and memories and hopes with Shane.
Lucky, too, because that’s what I spent the rest of the afternoon doing. Hard yards. There was a definite buzz while we worked though. You could feel the news we shared through every conversation, every interaction, just in the way everyone tackled their work.
The salvage operation stopped mid afternoon. Everyone was spent. It was a busy day, though - three dunes deconstructed, 15 crosses erected. One the positive side, we’re starting to have a decent pile of materials at our disposal now. Certainly ready for some more meaningful construction on our shelter.
To make that happen, though, we needed some extra materials and supplies. It looked like there’d be a hardware store raid on the horizon. That was perfect for me. I was already planning how I could match that up with another trip to the jail.
*
Apparently, you’re supposed to pair fish with white wine, or so I was told over dinner that night. Thanks Steph! Anyway, I told her beggars can’t be choosers. We had a good laugh. Even Jonesy cracked a smile and had a drink. That’s probably the first sign of original Jonesy we’d seen since, well, the operation.
The buzz that had sustained us through an afternoon’s hard yakka stayed with us as we ate, drank, celebrated and theorised.
These will thrive in your environment. Stay strong. Things won't be like this forever. K, S & T.
Those 14 words led to hundreds and hundreds more in analysis.
Firstly, the seedlings - these will thrive in your environment. We were devising a garden bed of sorts not far from camp. We figured Kent - we’re all pretty much assuming this was his message - intended that to mean in the sandy and sometimes windy conditions at the beach. So, Nate’s going to hike some sand up from the beach as a base to plant them. Confidence isn’t extremely high that we won’t kill them, but we don’t have anything to lose, really.
Stay strong - self explanatory really.
Things won’t be like this forever. This is where things got a little more complicated. That statement is so vague and open to interpretation. Did it mean there was something happening at the oval that made them think change was coming? Or was it a random thought of hope, knowing the world will turn again, like it did against us recently? The latter seemed a rather depressing concept, given we’re not really in a spot to do anything about it at the moment.
The former interpretation was a whole different matter. Was there a rift between members of the Norwood crew? If Shane and one of the Ts had survived, was the same true with members of the TTP forces? If so, how were they all integrating into the Norwood population? Were they even integrating, or were they being used as some sort of slave labour, maybe? It does seem rather unNorwood like to take on more mouths to feed when there was nothing in it for them. And really, if things were all integrated up there, Kent wouldn’t have sent us a secret message, he would have offered us an invitation.
No, chances are this is the same old Norwood. And now they have a workforce of former enemies. How would that play out around camp? There are more permutations than we had time to suggest them. One thing that did see
m to resonate was if it was true, there was a chance Shane and T were most likely a part of it.
I mean, it’s interesting that Kent was the messenger anyway. It’s not really his kind of action. If Shane was able to come, Shane would’ve come. Unless he and T were injured, of course. But, again, there was no more details in the message.
So, Kent seemed to have some liberties in whatever role he had around the oval. I mean, he’s clearly not a threat to anyone. It’s just interesting, we figured. And very beneficial if we’re able to keep this contact up.
As the food disappeared and we were left with the wine, thoughts turned to what we’d write in our next message to Kent. There were more questions than I had paper, but we eventually narrowed it down to something concise.
It’s barely dusk and I’m exhausted. Time with Alyce and writing the diary has been a nice way to spend the evening. It has been one of the most meaningful days I can remember post rock. Yet, something doesn’t add up inside of me. Not sure I can translate that into words, other than this feeling of having no sense of certainty. Add a bit of I’m not sure what we’re doing and it all feels, well, right. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just this constant building, destruction and rebuilding that’s getting to me. Maybe once we have our foundations planted here things will change.
At least I hope so.
Alyce is my sounding board around my thoughts in those moments, as I am with hers around the community side. We talk through the things we are thinking and offer each other a different perspective. I think it helps both of us. She has this knack for observing behaviour in others - things that might be unusual or different. Signs of this life getting to them in one way or another. Anyway, when we combine that with the logistics of what needs doing around camp, it can shed some light on directions forward neither of us would have seen independently. It’s a little part of our connection, but I think it makes a big difference.
*
March 4, 2015
The weather is as good as it gets post-rock today. It was warm, noticeably warm! Even when Alyce and I were taking our morning, erm, walk, the breeze was a pleasant relief. It’s definitely something we need to take advantage of, because this is probably the last of the good stuff. And by good stuff I mean temps that would rival a mild early spring day pre-rock. From here on out, it’s going to be a long slow descent into winter. Hopefully, it’s not as bitter as the last; that was a cruel punishment for surviving the rock. Either way, it’s not going to be fun beachside, even if we get everything up and running as planned.
What am I like? Just write about the nice morning and enjoying the pleasant thoughts!
This morning’s mission is a run for tools and supplies. Apparently, there’s a Mitre 10 hardware store on Unley Rd, which is not too far from where we got our restaurant supplies yesterday. Our shopping list is rather long, so we’re going to take both hovercraft so we can load up. It’ll be great to be on the road with Ye-jun again.
What’s more exciting for me, though, is the thought of stopping by the jail to see if there are any new notes. I’ve been obsessing about Kent’s note and, well, I need more. If he hasn’t come by, we still have the second message to drop off ready for when he does.
I dropped in on Jonesy and Kelly before we left. He really has started to get some of his Jonesyness back in the last day or so. He’s even given himself a little project to make himself a peg leg as he called it. He had the designs drawn up and everything. Alyce has been helping him sift through our new pile of materials to find the things he needs to construct it, but he’s also added a couple of things to our hardware store shopping list.
Kelly is starting to move more freely, too. She still winces when she coughs, but I get the feeling she’s starting to turn the arm wrestle of recovery in her favour.
Nate’s going to be starting work on the desal device today as well. He also has a small order for the hardware store.
Jessie and I were joined by Ye-jun and, of course, Steph. There was no way of keeping her away from the jail.
It was pretty smooth sailing convoying up the river. It’s funny, but with each run, the trips seem to take less time. Something about all the small landmarks becoming as familiar. For some reason that makes the time go quicker.
Anyway, after another cautious approach to the waystation and loading up more firewood, we headed on foot to the jail. The coast was clear, apart from a set of fresh footprints that had us super excited. Well, as excited as you can be when you’re sneaking into the fringes of enemy territory.
Steph and Ye-jun hang around the main part of the compound briefly, just processing the changes we’d been through, I assume. Then we beelined for the message room.
I reached up onto the ledge and felt a piece of paper under a rock. Everyone was gathered around me as I opened it.
You have warmed our hearts with your update, and so fast. There is much to say but caution is the key right now. Will return each morning to check the postbox.
Having the response waiting there made me smile but, that aside, it was a frustrating message. There was almost no direct detail at all. We had so many questions and received no answers. Just words open to another day and night of interpretation.
It made me want to get more details with the response and questions I asked, but at the same time made me feel very wary of any specifics. Maybe Kent was not as free to roam as we thought. I/we really had to write as if someone we didn’t want was going to read it.
This is what we left in return.
Excellent to have the postal system in operation, will reciprocate with frequency. Respect caution, will follow necessary parameters. We have many questions. From your sign-off, who was T?
That was the best we could manage. It didn’t even touch the surface of what we’d talked about wanting to know last night, but it would have to do.
Once we’d put some decent distance between ourselves and the jail, the analysis started again. The use of the term “our hearts” seemed to be a clear signal that he is in constant contact with Shane and the T. Or was there someone else? “Caution is the key right now” - that’s the line that had us talking the most. Is that just Kent being wary about his movements being detected? Or is it part of a bigger picture and tied in with the “things won’t be this way forever” line in the first message?
If they are connected, that opens up a world of potentially interesting possibilities. With so little to go on, it’s easy to get sucked into all sorts of flights-of-fancy theories about what’s going on at the oval. It takes a mature head to avoid over-analysing from such limited data.
So naturally we over-analysed all the way back to Phoenix, all the way to the hardware store and all the way home, where we told everyone else, who joined in for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Clearly, we are not mature heads.
Where was I? Ah yeah, the hardware store. It was a pretty seamless loot. We had a long shopping list and filled it all. Hell, it’s so hard to go struggling again beachside when we keep having big wins in the city. In fact, Steph even suggested we consider moving back. Well, by moving back, finding some place in the inner suburbs, that’s out of reach of the Norwood crew.
It’s the same temptation that I can’t shake. The thing is though, these trips are a little piece of fool’s gold. We’re doing another kind of fishing each time we head back in for a swipe session, and the reason everything we need is there, is because it’s the sort of things no one else is looking for.
I bet if we raided the shops, chemists and houses around the same area, we’d come up empty. They would have been cleaned out months and months ago. The hardware store was a good example of that. The generators were swiped. That’s a priority need for anyone who already had housing and was raiding the surrounding food supplies. They didn’t need lengths of 4x2, or screwdrivers, screws, nails, mallets, piping, cement etc.
Who knows, maybe we could jag a pocket of inner suburbia where no one has been before - maybe. But there’s no way a move like that
leads to a sustainable future. We’d get ourselves a week’s worth of food and then what? It would be straight back to the decisions that led us to the beach in the first place.
So, while our boat is overflowing with fish on these trips, it just wasn’t the fish anyone else is interested in. It’s all a little frustrating, and definitely creating a big yearning prick tease for what was, but can’t really be again in the foreseeable future. And that feeling is hard to shake.
*
Today’s load signalled a big change around camp. Until that point we had been simply gathering and acquiring, now the focus turned to building.
By the time the curtains were drawn on our day’s work, we had a significant part of the bones of the shelter roofing up, as well as the two outer walls. Nate’s desal creation has come together as well and he’s got a fire burning at the moment. Apparently, the first taste of his water was, “not too, too bad”. I can’t say it was the most convincing description, but it’s something. Jonesy is also busy constructing his peg leg. It’s good to see him making things again. He’s still not in a great way, but you can at least start to see remnants of the old Jonesy coming back.
All of which made a huge difference to our vibe around the fire. We had a pile of firewood that would last well over a week. The firelight was dancing off the new structure and seeing it come together was one step closer to making this place feel like home. Not saying it was anywhere near that feeling, but this was the first time you could see things coming together to the point where you could imagine it being home one day. That was a nice feeling.
Of course, the word around camp was really the latest message and the lack of any new detail. It formed a big part of the conversation. Like, all our theorising this morning, multiplied by 129.
I think the trickiest part of it all is not the theory, it’s finding a way to get that information without taking too much risk. I mean, the best result would be a face-to-face encounter, but I’m not even sure Kent is in a position to do that. We really don’t know much at all, which makes knowing how to tackle the steps forward, well, delicate.
