Undara

by Annie Seaton

  ‘Hi, Al, you’re calling late.’ He kept his voice pleasant.

  ‘It’s me, Dad. Jase. I need to talk to you before Mum does.’ His son’s words were whispered and rushed.

  Travis crossed to the window and looked out. The moon was slipping in and out as the clouds raced up high. The rain had threatened for two days, but there’d only been a few drops. There’d be rain tonight for sure. ‘What’s up, mate?’

  ‘I want to come home, Dad.’

  ‘You are. I’m waiting to hear when to pick you up at the train station. Still coming tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, tomorrow. But I want to come home. For good. To stay. I hate it down here on the coast. I hate the school, too.’

  Travis gripped the windowsill with his free hand. This was a discussion that had come up at the end of every term last year. He’d love to have his sons home with him all the time.

  ‘Oh, I see. What does your mother have to say about that?’

  The reply was sullen. ‘What do you think?’

  Travis took time to consider his words before he replied. If Jase came home it would help him no end, but he knew how firm Alison was on the twins finishing high school. ‘You’ve only got a couple of years to go, mate, and then you’ll be back here and working. And you’ll be on the books.’

  What he’d save on the private school fees would go straight to Jase and Joel as wages.

  ‘I don’t care about that. I just want to be there now. I hate school, and I hate not being up there. I know you need the help, Dad.’ He was almost begging. ‘What’s the point of staying at school, and learning stuff I’ll never use?’

  ‘If you want to go to college like I did, you have to finish high school.’

  ‘I don’t want to do that. You can teach me everything I need to know. Please, Dad, talk to Mum.’ There was a muffled conversation in the background and Jase came back on. ‘Here she is now. Love you, Dad.’

  Travis closed his eyes. Ever since they’d left, both his boys had ended each phone conversation with those words. He had Alison to thank for that and for a lot more. She’d come from a demonstrative family, the opposite of Travis and Gavin’s upbringing. The first Christmas out at Boulia with her family, he’d been taken aback to see her brothers greeting their father with a hug and a kiss.

  Now he was comfortable hugging his own sons.

  ‘Travis?’

  ‘Hi, Al. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. You?’

  ‘Just the usual.’

  Christ, he hated this stilted conversation every time they spoke. Their once-intimate relationship had disappeared, and a year later, he was no closer to understanding why. What had happened to those loving and whispered conversations of the early years of their marriage?

  The plans? The sharing? The joy in watching their boys growing, the joy of welcoming Cassie to their family.

  Always together.

  ‘We’ll be up Thursday,’ she said.

  ‘Jase said they’d be on the train tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, they will. I meant Cassie and I. We’ll get the train up the next day and stay over at Aunty Maureen’s. Cass can have the days with you and I’ll come and pick her up in the afternoons.’

  The frustration started to niggle, but he held it back. ‘That’s a lot of driving back and forth for you.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘Are you getting the train, too, or driving?’

  ‘I’ve got a double shift tomorrow, so we’ll get the train up on Thursday like I just told you.’

  The frustration was replaced by anger. ‘Shit, Alison. Who’s with Cass when you do all these hours?’

  ‘You know very well, I make sure that I only work when the boys are home for Cassie or my regular sitter is available. And if I work at night, the sitter comes in, so the boys can do their homework. She’s organised for tomorrow. I wanted the boys to come up tomorrow to give them as much time as I could. Don’t worry, it’s not coming out of the money you send.’ Her words were calm and measured. He’d only ever seen Alison lose her temper once in all the years they’d been together.

  The fourteenth of February, last year. How ironic was it that their marriage had died on Valentine’s Day? He’d fought to get her to stay—begged, pleaded, even cried—but she had been immovable. When she’d finally lost her temper, he’d known it was real. Alison was going, and she was taking the children with her.

  ‘I’m sorry. I know you do.’ He calmed himself. ‘So what’s the go with Jase all of a sudden? What’s got into him?’

  ‘I don’t know. There’s been some incident. I overheard them talking about it one night, but they won’t tell me what’s behind it.’

  ‘Do you think he’s in trouble at school?’

  ‘Honestly, Trav. I don’t know.’ Her sigh broke his heart. ‘I’ve tried to talk to him, but he’s been in a foul mood ever since school ended. Today he told me he wasn’t going back this year.’

  ‘Seeing as you’ll be up here, too, we’ll both sit down and have a talk with him. Look, why don’t you and Cass stay here in the house. Driving to and from your aunt’s place is silly. You know there’s room. The boys can sleep out in their tents, and you and Cass can have their room.’

  ‘What about Gavin? Is he home?’

  ‘He is now, but he’s going to Townsville first thing tomorrow.

  He spends more time there than he does here.’

  ‘Be nice to have some time for yourself.’

  I’d rather have you and the kids home. He didn’t put his thoughts into words; it wasn’t worth it. Travis flicked off the kitchen light and headed along the dark hallway to his room. Some nights Alison was happy to talk for ages, and it looked like tonight was going to be one of them.

  He tucked the phone between his shoulder and his chin as he used both hands to open his window. ‘It is, but it gets mighty lonely, sometimes.’

  The breeze coming through the window was moist and cool, and he sat on the windowsill in the dark and settled in for a chat.

  * * *

  The forecast wind change was beginning to rustle the leaves of the tall eucalypts at the edge of the dry paddock. It was too dark to see the dust blowing across the bare dirt, but he knew it would be. The cattle would head to the lick trough against the windbreak for shelter and sustenance soon; they would drink there once the rain filled the trough. He stood with his head tipped to the side.

  Listening.

  Waiting.

  Watching.

  Not that there was anyone nearby to see him. The only ones who would be interested—and pissed off by what he was about to do—were asleep in the farmhouse three kilometres away. Or they soon would be.

  Served them all bloody well right.

  He’d waited on the hill across the gully until the lights in the house went out. It had meant driving across the paddocks without the headlights, but the moon was bright enough to guide him; he couldn’t risk being seen. The lights would have dipped down the hill across from the house if he’d taken the shortest route, so he’d turned them off and taken the vehicle cross-country instead, past an old chimney and some headstones.

  There was rain in the wind and the cattle smelled it at the same time he did. They showed their agitation; snorting, shaking their heads and swishing their tails as the wind picked up. The clouds were moving fast across the moon, darkening the landscape. He waited until the moon appeared again and let his vision adjust before he moved over to the trough that ran along the fence line. Crouching down, he removed the plastic packet from his pocket and unwrapped it carefully, and then sprinkled the granules on the top of the hay in the trough. Moving his hand through the hay, he mixed the granules in. His fingers found the drainage pipe at the end and he grunted with satisfaction. It didn’t take long to unscrew the pipe and shove the plastic into the narrow opening. Once it was blocking the narrow neck, he screwed the pipe back onto the trough.

  Now all he needed was the rain to fall.

  CHAPTER

/>   5

  Emlyn had followed the three motorbikes in the Troop Carrier after Travis and his twins had swung by the camp. Although the boys were polite and personable, she still sensed a wariness similar to their father’s. She was obviously unwelcome here. She didn’t let it bother her; these days it was easy to separate the things worth worrying about from those of little consequence. One night before she’d left the family home behind her, David had told her that speaking to her was like talking to someone behind a glass wall.

  ‘No matter what I say or do, I can’t get an honest response from you, Em.’ She’d closed her eyes and waited for the gentle tirade to end. It didn’t matter, she was leaving anyway. If only he’d known that seeing him unhappy twisted the knife of grief even more, but it was the way things had to be.

  ‘I can’t get anything from you. Any response would be better than this polite person that I’m living with.’

  ‘I have nothing to say.’ She’d smiled and continued tapping away at her computer. Poor David had the patience of a saint, but she took comfort from knowing that would be the one thing that helped him make a new life without her. A few nights later when she’d made the arrangements for a small serviced room near the university, she’d told him she was leaving. His beautiful hazel-green eyes had been awash with tears. That had hurt, but she’d covered up the pain and remained cool.

  ‘It’s the way it has to be, David. I can’t go on like this. We can’t go on like this. I have my life now, and you need to make a new one. We need to move on, and you have to accept we can’t do it together.’

  Emlyn dragged her thoughts back to the present when Travis and his sons stopped at the base of a small hill and she parked near the motorbikes. As she reached for her knapsack and torch, she frowned at the unexpected tear that plopped onto her hand.

  Travis opened the door for her and she brushed the back of her fingers across her face.

  ‘The temperature will cool considerably as soon as the sun sets,’ he said. ‘And it’ll be quite cool in the cave. Did you bring a jacket?’

  She nodded and climbed down, then swung her knapsack onto her back. They left the vehicle and the motorbikes in a paddock where the fences were in need of repair, and she listened to the conversation as she trudged across the paddock behind them.

  ‘That’s the chimney of the original homestead I was telling you about the other day.’

  Emlyn followed the direction of Travis’s finger as he pointed to a small thicket of trees at the base of a small hill.

  ‘My father loved the history of the place so much, he never demolished it. It’s all that’s left. There’s not much of the second house left, either. A few posts and chimneys,’ he said.

  ‘You need to get onto those fences, Dad,’ one of the boys said.

  ‘I know, mate. The fencing’s got behind since the winter. As soon as we move the rest of those cattle, I’ll get you to give me a hand over here.’ Travis glanced back at Emlyn. ‘With the amount of traffic that’s going to be here for the next three months, we need to make sure these paddocks are fenced off. You don’t want the cattle following you. Blue and I brought the breeders in from the bush and put them in the paddock on the other side of the hill.’

  ‘Has Uncle Gavin been helping you much since we left last holidays?’ the taller boy asked.

  ‘Next question,’ Travis said wryly as he led the way.

  ‘Are you supplementing the breeders with lick blocks, Dad?’ The other boy caught up to Travis and Emlyn slowed her pace.

  ‘I am.’ Travis smiled at his son. ‘You’re on the ball, Jase.’

  ‘A molasses-based mix?’ The young boy frowned.

  ‘It’s okay. We’ve set up a good drainage system. No chance of any water staying in the lick trough.’

  The track was obviously well used; a sort of walkway had been defined by rocks and fallen trees edging the scrubby trees. They climbed a hill where a couple of man-made rock steps had been built into the path.

  Emlyn bit her lip and frowned. Unless they could get the vehicles closer, it was going to be a long walk up the hill with the equipment each day. They might have to look at leaving some of it in the caves. It should be secure there; it was way off the main road, and not on any tourist track. The photographs she’d seen from the visit of the initial researchers hadn’t shown the size of the caves, or the approach that they were now on. She hadn’t done her homework well enough.

  The savannah woodland was dry, and the grass and the occasional small tree branch crackled beneath her hiking boots. The air was ripe with the smell of eucalypt trees and Emlyn took a deep breath of the fresh breeze.

  David would love this. She closed her eyes for a second as a shaft of actual physical pain pierced her chest. Being closeted in an office all day, her husband had taken every opportunity to be outdoors on weekends and on all their holidays. She’d seen more of Australia in ten years than most people saw in a lifetime. She wriggled her fingers to get rid of that awful light feeling that came with overthinking.

  Breathing out too much carbon dioxide, the doctor had said. Stress-related.

  Focus on your breathing. Forget David. Forget what he liked, or what he thought he wanted. She had to stop this constant thinking and worrying about him.

  Move on.

  Survive.

  She had to focus on the job here. Once the others arrived and they were exploring the caves each day, and recording what they found, it would be easier.

  ‘Did you see this, Emlyn?’ She jumped as the taller of the two boys caught up to her and pointed to the side of the path where a ground cover with bright-yellow flowers spilled over onto the walkway.

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked with her head tilted to the side. ‘It is Joel?’

  ‘Yes, I’m Joel.’ He smiled for the first time. ‘It’s the wild daisy cress, Acmella grandiflora.’

  Emlyn glanced up at him as she crouched down at the edge of the path. ‘It’s pretty. You know the scientific names of the local flora?’

  He laughed, and she saw the close resemblance to his father. Similar strong features, minus the tanned and weathered skin.

  ‘No. Only the ones that I’ve used in my schoolwork. This one is really interesting. Did you know that only a few kilometres west there was a huge gold rush in the late nineteenth century?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I can tell you all about insects, but I’m pretty rough on my Australian history. Just about primary school level and that’s it.’

  ‘The gold rush wasn’t long after the first Carlyles—our forebears—took over the lease for the Hidden Valley land.’

  Emlyn smiled. He was his father’s son. Joel’s voice held the same passion that she’d heard in Travis’s as he’d spoken of the history of the station.

  ‘Around the late 1870s, hundreds of Chinese came in and took over the area. As well as gold mining, apparently, they taught the local Aboriginal people about the medicinal value of some of the plants here, like the daisy cress. Or so the story goes.’

  ‘You know your history, too.’ Emlyn stood, and Joel walked beside her as they continued along the path that was winding around the hill.

  ‘I was born here, and I’m interested, but Dad’s the one with all the knowledge. He used to tell us stories about the place when we were growing up. You should get him talking one night. There’s a lot of history tied up with the lava tubes, too. It’d be good to get Dad back talking about things again.’ He stopped, and his face was flushed as he bent down. ‘Look at this, Emlyn, you won’t see this one anywhere else in Australia.’

  A series of fungi sat beside a flat rock at the side of the path, tucked into the shade of a wide tree trunk. They looked like a pile of pancakes off the grill. Each mushroom—if that’s what they were called—was edged with cream and then a light-brown circle surrounded a series of concentric circles in a variety of shades of purple. The perfection of the markings coloured the flat surface as though an artist had painted it.

  ‘Now
that’s beautiful.’

  ‘Wait till you see inside the tubes. The insects and fungus feed on the roots that penetrate the ceiling and bat droppings.’ He waited while she took out her small camera and snapped some shots of the fungi. ‘Dad said you haven’t actually been in there yet? It’s pretty special. We were never allowed to go in there when we were kids, and it was always a special treat when Mum and Dad took us.’

  ‘No. This is my first time. I’m really looking forward to going in.’

  And I am, Emlyn thought as she stood and slipped the camera back into her pocket. For the first time in many months, a spark of interest was firing.

  She smiled at Joel. ‘I’m excited.’

  Her counsellor had said that one day she would wake up and life would take on a sense of normalcy again, but she’d rejected that idea outright. She didn’t deserve to have a happy life.

  What was that old maxim that the doctor had told her? Time heals all wounds. But Emlyn had rejected that; her heart had been irrevocably broken and grief had settled into her soul. Everyone had tried to pull her out of it—David had told her they could work through it together, but she’d closed her mind to any concept of healing.

  It might be selfish, but she didn’t want to. It was her fault and she didn’t deserve to.

  Joel watched her as she fluttered her fingers again.

  ‘Are you hot?’

  ‘No. No … I’m fine. Thank you.’ They’d fallen behind Travis and Jase as they’d talked and looked at the plants.

  Travis had stopped at the crest of the hill and called down to them. ‘Come on, you two. It’ll be dark before we get there.’

  ‘Oops, we don’t want to get your father more offside than he is already.’ Emlyn hurried up the hill; Joel was still beside her and he glanced inquisitively at her.

  ‘Don’t worry. Dad’s bark is worse than his bite. It’s just that he loves this place so much, it’s his life, and the last year or so’s been tough. He’s looked after the place pretty much by himself.’

  Emlyn strode ahead and didn’t answer.

  Life was like that. It wasn’t particularly kind to anyone. It was a shame that Joel would find that out for himself one day. Everyone did; it was a part of growing up.