Rain Dance

by Karen Wood

  ‘What about Dan?’

  ‘His mother will get him,’ said Pat Armstrong in a cold voice.

  ‘She won’t have a car.’ Kaydon stood by the counter. No way was he leaving Dan at the police station.

  ‘His mother has been contacted,’ said Marg. ‘She’ll be here soon.’

  Appeased, he followed his father.

  Outside, it was still dark. The sun was only just beginning to rise.

  ‘Just because I had to sign you out, doesn’t mean I have to give you a lift home,’ said Pat. He slammed the door of the fourbie and Kaydon heard the click, click, click of the automatic locks. His father pulled out of his park and roared away, leaving Kaydon standing on Abbott Street in the early-morning sun.

  Under the jacaranda tree out the front, a carpet of mauve flowers reminded him of Holly’s dress, still lying on the floor of the stables.

  He walked up to the main drag and sat on a bench seat outside the chemist. It was Sunday and he had little to no chance of catching a bus any time soon. He put his head in his hands for a moment and wondered how life could go from normal to hellhole in such a short space of time?

  He didn’t know how long he sat there before he heard footsteps coming towards him. He looked up and saw Dan.

  ‘Where’s your mum?’ he asked, as his friend sat next to him.

  ‘Gone to get her car out of the pound.’ Dan leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the ground.

  ‘I never danced with her,’ said Kaydon. ‘I promised I would.’

  ‘I think that’s the last thing on her mind right now.’

  ‘I still feel bad.’

  Dan gave a short laugh. ‘You do.’

  ‘What the hell happened?’

  Dan sighed. ‘Jake said something about you making out with Chrissy. That’s why I went off. I was hell-jealous.’

  ‘Of me kissing Chrissy?’ Kaydon snorted. ‘You can have her.’

  Dan kept staring at the ground. ‘It wasn’t Chrissy that I wanted.’

  ‘Then who . . .?’ There was a silence as the answer dawned over Kaydon. He felt a deep flush of heat marching up his neck and over his face. He didn’t know where to look.

  ‘You know what I’m trying to tell you.’ Dan’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, cautious.

  ‘Dan, you’re my mate, but . . .’ Kaydon didn’t know what to say. But he could see how this all added up. The way Dan always wanted to wrestle – it made sense now. Sort of.

  ‘It’s all right, Kaydo, I know.’ Dan dropped his head. ‘I know. And it’s okay.’

  ‘I don’t like Chrissy anyway.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Not just for my own sake, but . . .’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t like her either, Kaydo. I don’t like that whole family. Her dad was sniffing around my place to buy as well. He’s a tool.’

  ‘You’ve met him before?’

  ‘Yes, I didn’t know he was your dad’s new partner, or I would have said something. Didn’t know we were talking about the same bloke.’

  ‘Turns out he’s a geologist,’ said Kaydon, glad to be leading the conversation away from Dan’s emotional life.

  ‘Now I like him even less. Do you reckon he’s into coal-seam gas or something?’

  Kaydon shook his head. ‘There are no mining permits on Rockleigh, and no coal seam, just empty oil wells.’ Just as well. He knew that gas drilling in the Pilliga had left a chain of toxic ponds and affected the underground water that flowed into the Artesian Basin.

  ‘Same at Bauhala,’ said Dan. ‘What about the new place?’

  ‘Glenvale?’ Kaydon shrugged. ‘No idea.’

  ‘What does he want? He’s not into farming, that’s for sure.’

  Kaydon wondered what the three properties could have in common. Without knowing much about Glenvale, he couldn’t guess.

  He thought back to his science project on carbon cycles. ‘Maybe he’s a good guy and wants to plant carbon sinks. ’

  ‘You think a geologist would want to plant lots of trees?’ Dan gave him a you’re-an-idiot look.

  ‘So is your mum going to sell?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘What about the stock?’

  ‘She wants me to shoot ’em. Reckons she can’t handle looking at them any more.’

  ‘Don’t do that,’ said Kaydon. ‘Me and Aaron, we’ll come and help you muster them up, get them to the sales. You’ll get something for them.’

  Dan shook his head. ‘It’d be cruel. They’re too weak to travel. Cattle are dying all around the mud-holes. I keep dragging them out, but more go in. There are bone piles everywhere. It stinks.’

  Kaydon stared at the gutter in front of him. ‘Then what?’

  ‘Dunno. Rent a place. Try to get a job in the mines.’ Dan stood up. ‘Here’s Mum.’ A red car rolled down the street.

  This was all wrong. Dan should be travelling back to Bentleigh with him at the end of the holidays. Kaydon stood and looked at his friend, unsure of what to say.

  ‘It’s all good, mate,’ said Dan, in his light, easygoing voice. ‘Only place to go is up.’

  ‘I almost envy you,’ said Kaydon.

  ‘Why?’

  Kaydon shrugged. ‘Getting out of here.’

  ‘You’re not stuck on Rockleigh, Kaydo. You could leave it if you wanted.’

  Kaydon frowned, knowing Dan was right.

  ‘What are you going to do about Holly?’ asked Dan.

  ‘What about Holly?’

  ‘You like her, she likes you.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Geez, Dan hadn’t met her for more than five minutes.

  Dan raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s gorgeous.’

  Kaydon shrugged. ‘She’s moving back to the coast.’

  ‘Easy come, easy go, eh?’ said Dan. ‘Like everything in your life.’

  Across the road, the Corolla pulled onto the kerb. Dan grinned and gave him a punch on the arm. ‘That’s my ride.’ Before Kaydon could say goodbye, he was running across the road.

  ‘Dan!’ called out Kaydon.

  He spun around.

  ‘You could apologise to Holly’s brother.’

  ‘Okay.’ He opened the car door and stepped in. Kaydon watched it roll out of town.

  Easy come, easy go?

  Kaydon sank onto the bench seat. Before he could even begin to arrange his thoughts, a silver station wagon pulled up in front of him. Marg Kennerley wound the window down. ‘Wanna lift home?’

  Kaydon shuddered. Home. When he thought of what lay ahead for him at Rockleigh, the dark clouds that rolled over the sunny crops went a deeper shade of grey.

  25

  Holly ran across the paddock in the half-light, her ankles brushing against the dry grass. She slipped a halter around Penny’s ears and hoisted herself onto the old mare’s back, hoping she was right about where to find Jake.

  She kicked Penny on and sent her cantering along the sloping hillside. Already the day was heating up with a dry, restless breeze that seemed odd for this time of day. Everything was rustling and unsettled. The clouds rolled around in the sky and there was a flash of lightning in the distance.

  Holly wasn’t fooled. These dry storms kept coming, but they never seemed to burst into rain.

  She followed the same track she had followed with Jake and Eva only days before, with her hair blowing into her face. From the rocky hilltop she had a good view of the flat country stretching down to the river; there was a line of green snaking through the deepest part of the basin, and a funnel of smoke twisting into the clouds behind it.

  Holly wondered who would be crazy enough to burn off on a hot morning like this. She kicked Penny along towards the river. From the corner of her eye she saw a herd of wild deer leaping over the long grass and she stopped a moment to admire them. They must thrive in this wild, overgrown place.

  As she got closer to the river, wallabies jumped past. She glimpsed lizards and mice and a couple of snakes, all travelling away from the river. Wind buffete
d in her ears. The smell of smoke got stronger and Holly wondered if anyone was controlling that fire. She took a direct line to the river and steered Penny along an old fenceline.

  Dead pigs, some black, some spotted, rotted in the warm air and a rank smell curled off the carcasses. Penny became restless as Holly urged her past them. Kaydon had been right. Someone had been shooting along here.

  Then she saw him.

  ‘Jake.’ Her brother lay on his side on a stretch of river bank with his jacket scrunched up and tucked under his head. He didn’t stir.

  ‘Jake,’ said Holly, frightened. She held the mare steady while she slid off her back. Then Penny broke from her grasp and Holly watched in despair as the horse galloped back towards the hut, reins dangling through her forefeet. She turned back to her brother and was relieved to see him move. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said.

  ‘Hiding in my closet,’ he moaned.

  ‘I thought you’d been shot.’

  ‘I nearly was. I had to climb a tree.’ Jake rolled over, and as he sat up she noticed his lip was split and puffy from the fight. ‘There was some sort of pig massacre going on down here.’ He rubbed his face.

  ‘What a disaster of a night.’

  ‘No luck snagging a cowboy then?’ she said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Jake gave an almost hysterical laugh. ‘Homo Jake strikes again, in a horrifying twerking rampage.’ He shook his head. ‘There should be an app to prevent that sort of thing. Some sort of late-night cognitive functioning test that must be passed before you approach anyone.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Jake looked away and she was sure she heard his breath hitch. He swallowed before talking. ‘It’s a funny thing, Holls. You try to always have fun, to fit in and have people like you,’ he said. ‘But the harder you try to be happy the more miserable you become, the harder you try to have fun the more bored you become, and the more you try and make people like you the more they hate you.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Something about the boss’s son being a lady’s man.’ Jake held his hands up. ‘Or being attractive or something. I can’t even remember.’ He sighed. ‘A bunch of us were dancing at the time. And the other guy just went psycho.’

  ‘Did you make a pass at him?’

  ‘No.’

  Holly sat beside him, unsure of what to say. Jake rubbed his head as though he had a giant stress headache. ‘Life’s just . . . hard, you know.’

  Holly thought of her mum, fighting her battle in hospital. She thought of Charlie dragging her dead calves out of a muddy dam. She thought of her home back at Blue Gum Flats that had a new family living in it. ‘Yeah, everyone has hard, Jake. No one’s hard is harder than someone else’s hard. It’s all just hard.’

  ‘I don’t want to live in a closet.’

  ‘It’s no place to live,’ she agreed.

  ‘I don’t want to be beaten up every time I’m the real me.’

  ‘I don’t want you to be either.’

  They sat in miserable silence.

  ‘Is that smoke I can smell?’ asked Jake.

  ‘Yes,’ said Holly. ‘It’s over the hill. I think some farmers might be burning off. I hope it’s not getting out of control.’ She stood. It was as good an excuse as any to get Jake to come back to the shack. ‘Let’s head home.’

  Jake climbed up the bank of the creek. ‘There’s a fire coming at us!’

  Holly followed to the top of the bank. Across a wide field, an arc of flames flowed along the ground like liquid, cracking and snapping and swallowing everything in its path. Whirls of thick grey smoke twisted into spirals along its front. She swore.

  ‘Better get out of here,’ said Jake, scrambling back down the bank and wading across the shallow creek, which barely wet his boots. He climbed up the other side and set off towards the shack with his jacket in his hands.

  Holly half-walked, half-ran to keep up with him. A wide paddock of dead grass stretched out in front of them leading up to a small rocky set of hills with trees on top.

  The heat rose off the land despite the overcast sky. The wind threw gusts of warning, shaking the grass heads and creating a dull roaring sound in distant tree stands. An eerie feeling swept across the plain.

  Holly glanced over her shoulder. The fire was racing towards the river. Hopefully the trickle of water would slow it down.

  ‘There’s a waterhole at the base of those hills,’ she said, breaking into a run. ‘We might have to jump in and wait for the fire to pass.’

  Flakes of ash began fluttering through the air in front of her.

  Jake sprinted next to her. ‘It’s jumped the river,’ he said, turning around and jogging backwards. ‘Look, there are little spot fires starting.’

  Before she could answer, a mob of kangaroos bounced past in long, purposeful strides. Not a good sign.

  ‘Holly, run!’ yelled Jake.

  Holly took off, her feet slipping over the uneven ground and tumbling rocks. The paddock seemed to go on forever and although her lungs pulled for breath, the hill she was running for seemed no closer. She glanced over her shoulder again.

  The fire fed greedily along the ground, urged by the wind, twisting into whirls of flame. Birds hovered and circled ahead of the billowing grey smoke. It was coming straight for her.

  She forced her legs to keep going. She was more than halfway. Damn this wind that was pushing it at her.

  Jake made it to the hill first. He stood on a cluster of boulders, waving her towards him. She put one foot in front of the other and began climbing, making her lungs work even harder. She rasped for air. Boulder after boulder, rock after rock, hands and feet, scrambling. She finally crested the hill and stumbled down the other side to the dam after Jake.

  Holly floundered into the warm brown sludge, which was more mud than water. At least it provided a wide wet barrier from the flames. She commando-crawled to the middle and sat in the giant puddle, fanning her arms back and forth.

  Within moments she was engulfed in green-grey smoke with flakes of black ash whirling through it. Heat and pain attacked her lungs. She pulled the collar of her shirt over her face to filter the air and when she got a waft of lucerne she realised she was still wearing Kaydon’s polocrosse shirt.

  ‘That moved fast,’ said Jake between coughing fits. He stood knee-deep in the water.

  Holly watched several trees explode into flames, putting out clouds of thick black smoke. Angry red embers spiralled into the air.

  ‘We’ve got to to get back to the hut and warn Brandon,’ said Holly. The thought of the fire reaching the old timber shack filled her with dread.

  ‘We’re kinda stuck here until it passes,’ said Jake. He pulled his shirt over his head and wrapped it around the lower half of his face.

  ‘Eva and Brandon are in the shack,’ said Holly. ‘What if they went back to bed?’

  She started crawling to the edge of the dam, the mud sucking at her limbs as she went. She stepped onto the charred, smouldering ground, but the heat came through the soles of her boots and she smelled them melting. She retreated back to the mud. ‘How are we going to get back there?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll try running around it,’ said Jake, who was already rock-hopping his way out of there. ‘You wait here.’

  ‘Wait here?’ And do what? ‘What if the wind changes?’ she screamed after him. ‘Jake, stop!’

  He waved a hand and sprinted down the hill, around the edge of the flames.

  Overhead a dark sky roiled and rumbled.

  Holly looked up and yelled angrily, ‘Oh would you just shut up and rain!’

  26

  Kaydon listened to Marg’s lecture all the way home.

  ‘I see a lot of kids come through the cells, Kaydon, but I never thought you’d be one of them. Just because you’re a friend of the family, doesn’t mean I’m not going to come down on you when you go joy-riding in a stolen car. I’ll come down on you even harder.’

  He didn’
t try to argue or defend himself.

  ‘Shame young Dan’s stuffed up his education. He’s a bright kid.’

  Kaydon was silent. He wondered how their friendship would pan out now. Would it be awkward? Part of him was relieved that Dan wouldn’t be coming back to Bentleigh with all his problems.

  Easy come, easy go.

  The other part of him would miss him like hell.

  Friends stick solid. He’d meant it at the time. Did he still mean it now? He stared out the window and saw smoke on the horizon.

  ‘Grassfire,’ said Marg, finally ceasing her lecture. She peered out the front window of the car. ‘Hope it doesn’t get into the Pilliga again the way it did in oh-seven.’

  ‘Where’s it coming from, do you reckon?’ he asked.

  ‘Hard to tell. Might have been a lightning strike somewhere. Everything’s so dry, wouldn’t take much.’ She looked up at the sky. ‘I might have to drop you at the letterbox, go check it out,’ she said, reaching for her mobile phone, as she put on the brakes.

  Kaydon stepped out into the hot morning. Despite the dry, the air felt strangely heavy. He thanked Marg for the lift and set off along the dirt road towards home. Sometimes he wished he lived in the suburbs, where people had five-metre-long driveways.

  A feeling of dread hit him as he reached the homestead, desperate for a drink of water after walking five kilometres with the acrid taste of smoke in his throat. Only his father’s fourbie was in the driveway. No other cars.

  The front door was locked.

  ‘Your father wants to see you in his office,’ said Jerry, from behind him.

  Kaydon wiped the beading sweat off his brow with his sleeve and inhaled. ‘Okay,’ he said, knowing this would be a very different confrontation. This would be the real one.

  At least Jerry would pretend he didn’t hear or see a thing. A man’s family was his own business and Jerry respected that.

  The office adjoined the house and had an external door. Kaydon walked along the verandah, which was shaded by drooping grape vines, with leaves beginning to colour gold and red. He tried to breathe evenly as he knocked on the office door.