by Karen Wood
‘We need to know more about Mr Parker,’ said Holly. ‘We have less than twelve hours to stop the Glenvale deal going through.’
‘Why do we want to stop that? What do we care?’
Holly scrambled to explain Kaydon’s suspicions. ‘He’s interested in three properties and it just so happens that they all have old oil wells on them.’
‘So what?’ said Brandon. ‘All I want to do is go surfing. I couldn’t give a rat’s what happens to this place. Or the people that own it.’
‘Kaydon could lose his home.’
There was a high-pitched laugh from Jake’s bunk. ‘And we’re supposed to sympathise with that?’
Holly bowed her head and pushed her fingers into her forehead. ‘Please,’ she said in a voice that was barely audible. ‘Could you do this for me?’
She felt Kaydon’s hand on her back. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘It does matter,’ Holly insisted.
Jake eyed Kaydon suspiciously. ‘Thought you were with that Chrissy girl,’ he said.
‘That was just . . .’ – he stalled – ‘er, a business arrangement.’
‘Is Holly a business arrangement too?’ demanded Brandon.
‘No!’
‘I think you should leave.’ Brandon glared at Kaydon. ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t trust you, your father, or his business mate. I want you to get out.’
‘Brandon, please,’ Holly begged.
‘Don’t you think these guys have messed us over enough, Holls?’ Brandon seemed to be winding up for a rant.
Out the window, Holly saw a light in the hut switch on.
Kaydon noticed it too. ‘It’s okay,’ he said quickly. ‘I’ll leave.’
‘Kaydon, wait.’ Holly tugged at his arm as he shouldered the narrow door open.
‘It’s okay; this is not your problem.’ Kaydon pushed his way out of the door and moments later his horse clopped softly down the driveway and into the night.
Holly turned to her brothers. ‘Thanks for nothing.’
Brandon held up his hands.
‘I thought you just wanted to go home?’ said Jake.
‘We don’t have a home,’ said Holly. Her voice was tight. ‘Don’t you get it?’
She ran back to the hut with a storm system brewing in her heart. The centre was slow and calm but around that were strengthening winds and spiralling thunderstorms. A storm surge that had formed on the coast and been carried inland was ready to shatter into a billion tiny pieces.
Her mother was on the front steps, wearing an old singlet and a pair of pyjama pants. Her hair was loose. She held a bundle in one arm and a bottle of milk in the other, and Holly could see a tiny silver muzzle suckling on the teat. ‘What’s happening, babe?’
‘I don’t want to drive out another gate tomorrow,’ she rasped.
Her tears were like rain on the hard, dry ground. And though she willed them to stop, they poured out of her in a chaotic rush.
Her mother put an arm around her and led her inside.
‘I promised myself I wouldn’t do this,’ she sobbed.
‘It’s okay to feel, babe. It’s okay to hurt,’ said her mum gently.
Holly curled onto the couch and cried stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears. They blurred her eyes and sobs choked out of her throat. She let them flow, because she had lost any reason to hold them back or wipe them away.
While she lay wallowing in her misery, she heard her mother and father talking in muffled tones. One of them left the hut and knocked quietly on the caravan door.
36
Kaydon tossed about fitfully for the remainder of the night. He could think of no way to hold up the settlement, to delay hocking the farm, and perhaps in doing so delay Holly’s departure.
As he woke the next morning he heard a strange pattering noise; rain?
He peered out the window. Big, warm, heavy drops splattered onto the tiles around the swimming pool and on the timber deck around the house.
He leapt out of bed and threw the curtains open. ‘Rain!’
He heard his mother’s soft footsteps down the hallway. ‘Hey, Pat. It’s raining.’
Kaydon joined his parents at the front door. Big fat drops bounced off the ground and danced a pogo in the dust. Kaydon ran down the front steps in his shorts and let it fall over him. Through the erratic pattering sound of it, a truck rolled into the driveway. The hippie truck; it was packed to overflowing and had big silver tarps covering the load on the back. Wipers smeared arcs of brown across its windscreen. Ken Harvey must be collecting his pay and signing off.
Suddenly the rain felt like bullets. ‘Why now?’ Kaydon looked into the sky. ‘Why now when it is too late?’
As the truck got closer to the house and stopped, he saw that only Ken Harvey and his wife were in it. They got out, and Mrs Harvey tucked a slim paper folder into the front of her jacket to protect it from the rain. The building plans? He stood at the bottom of the steps. Kaydon’s father stood at the top in a pair of long pyjama pants and no shirt. His belly was round and white and he hadn’t shaved.
‘Can I have a minute?’ Mrs Harvey asked.
Pat’s eyes ran to the file in her jacket. ‘Could you get us a coffee, Bron?’ He walked along the verandah. ‘And maybe a shirt?’
Mr and Mrs Harvey followed him into the office and the door closed behind them.
Kaydon paced about in the rain, letting it sluice over his skin.
‘Come inside and have breakfast,’ said Bron.
Kaydon got dressed and sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee. He was too agitated to eat and the coffee was making him worse. What were Holly’s parents and his dad talking about in there, and why were they taking so long? It had been nearly forty-five minutes.
When he couldn’t bear it any more, he took himself outside and waited on the verandah. When at last they emerged, Pat held the paper file in his hand. There was handshaking and brief goodbyes. The Harveys climbed back into their truck and pulled out of the driveway.
‘What was that all about?’ asked Kaydon.
Pat didn’t speak for a while. He stared thoughtfully after the truck, and then said, ‘I need more coffee.’
He sat at the kitchen table with the file open in front of him and began pulling out papers. They looked like reports.
Kaydon’s heart lurched. Property reports. Maps with coloured squares and shapes in different colours and little icons all over them. Mining leases.
‘How many properties does he own?’ he asked his father.
‘About six. He has contracts on more. All with disused oil wells.’ His mouth was set into a thin line. His eyes flicked to the clock. The small hand was on nine.
‘Parker worked for a company called AtWorld Resources about four years ago. Ken’s wife led an environmental war against them on the coast. AtWorld wanted to set up geo-sequestration projects but Melinda fought it and had it stopped. No wonder he kicked them off Glenvale. He must have recognised their names.’
‘Holly told me about that,’ said Kaydon. ‘So, that was Mr Parker?’
‘He was the project manager for Atworld. He lost his job over it.’ Pat’s voice was low and measured. ‘I’d guess our partner’s trying to go out on his own now, start his own geo-sequestration company.’
‘But why wouldn’t he just buy Glenvale on his own? Why drag us into it?’
‘He wants Rockleigh. It has the most oil well heads and it’s close to the power station. They would capture the carbon dioxide at the power station and pipe it straight to Rockleigh, along the seam line to Glenvale, Bauhala and any other properties he has his hands on.’ Pat swore under his breath.
Kaydon wasn’t game to speak. He could hardly breathe. Would his father cancel the Glenvale deal?
‘I’m committed,’ said Pat, reading his thoughts. His voice was hollow. ‘I can’t get out of this.’
‘Why not?’ said Kaydon.
‘I’ve p
ut down a share of Rockleigh as a deposit. A hundred grand. I’ll lose the deposit if I pull out. I don’t have it in cash. I would be forced to . . ..’ He threw his hands in the air.
‘Sell to Mr Parker.’ Kaydon finished his sentence.
‘Ring the solicitor and delay it,’ said Bron, panic in her voice. ‘Pat, please. There must be a way we can stop this.’
‘I don’t know if there’s time.’ Pat took the phone and pushed himself away from the table. He headed out the front door.
Kaydon heard the office door slam shut. He paced about in the kitchen. Outside, the rain was heavier. ‘I’m going for a walk,’ he said finally. He pulled on his boots at the front steps and set off across the paddocks.
Steers lay chewing solemnly while the water tumbled over them. Stockhorses grazed nearby with their tails to the wind. The air was all water and soil and eucalyptus. Rain pelted onto the bare paddocks. As Kaydon walked he tried to pull these things into his lungs, savour the life-giving joy of them. But something kept screaming, deep inside him. What if we lost all this?
Something honked close by. A car; it honked and honked and honked again, louder and closer.
‘Kaydo!’ Still honking, Dan drove the battered Hilux with no windscreen down the driveway through the mud. He hung half his body out of the cabin. ‘Kaydo, it’s raining!’
Kaydon cracked a weak smile.
His friend did a big, obnoxious handbrakey in the home yard, sending a spray of mud across the wall of the shed. He got out wearing a huge floppy hat, Superman boxers and an old black T-shirt. Had he not changed since the fires?
Dan climbed onto the bonnet of the Hilux and began dancing something that looked like a war dance, punching his fists in the air and stomping more dents into the bonnet with his boots. ‘It’s bloody raining, Kaydo!’
Kaydon pulled himself through the fence. When he got within a metre of the ute, Dan leapt into his arms, clinging to him like an anorexic koala. He was all bones and spiky chin hair and bad body odour. ‘It never rains but it pours, my friend!’
‘Get off,’ Kaydon gasped, laughing and trying to extricate himself from Dan’s limbs. He pushed him off with a giant shove and Dan fell backwards into a puddle of mud, like a drunk.
He looked up at Kaydon. ‘I just rang that Parker bloke and told him to stuff off!’ He started flapping his arms and legs.
‘Daniel Tremonti!’ Bron’s voice was scolding from the verandah. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
‘I’m making mud angels, Mrs A,’ he called back. ‘I got a message from heaven today.’
Kaydon looked at his mother. ‘He’s got rain fever.’
Bron nodded. ‘I’ll call the psych ward. He’s finally lost it.’
‘I’ve finally got it, you mean.’ Dan jumped out of his puddle. ‘Dad’s life insurance came through!’
Kaydon could have cried. ‘Dan. That’s fantastic. That’s so good.’ He hugged his friend. ‘I’m stoked for you.’ Then he did cry. He was glad for the raindrops sliding down his face because they hid his bittersweet tears. He hid his face in his friend’s ribby chest.
Dan took him by the shoulders and pushed him away. ‘Don’t get all poofy on me.’ He grinned, but looked at Kaydon’s face and his brow furrowed. ‘You guys going to a funeral today or something?’
‘Come inside, Dan,’ said Bron. ‘Actually, go via the laundry and get yourself some clean clothes first.’
37
Holly woke on a wet pillow the next morning. She pulled herself up, feeling utterly drained. She had cried herself to sleep, and now there was something wrong with her ears. They were filled with a roaring sound and it blurred everything else. She couldn’t hear any cows or dogs or laughing kookaburras. There were no footsteps in the kitchen or boiling kettle, just a great overwhelming noise that blanketed everything. She pulled a curtain aside and peered out the window.
‘Rain!’ she said, astonished.
It looked so different over a thousand-acre paddock compared to a suburban back yard. She could see the entire system tumbling and rolling, bursting in places and holding in others, connecting land to sky, its drumbeat broken with squalls of wind and rumbling thunder.
She pushed the front door open, letting the cool, sweet fragrance wash over her. She stepped off the tiny porch and let it drive into her skin. Wet dirt stuck to her feet and she marvelled at how she left dry footprints as her feet pulled sticky fresh mud off the ground. It was inside out, yin and yang. She walked in circles, watching the rain fill and hide the tracks she’d left.
The door of the caravan was flung open. Jake stood bare-chested in a pair of shorts, his dreadlocked hair sticking out everywhere. ‘Did you finally do a rain dance, Holls?’
Her mouth tightened.
Jake hopped down the steps and shivered when the rain hit his body. He took Holly by the hands and tried to waltz. Holly pulled herself away from him, not ready to make nice.
Jake’s shoulders dropped. ‘We got the dirt on Mr Parker, okay.’
Holly froze. Had she heard him right?
‘Mum came over and we spent the entire night researching him. You were right; he’s connected to mining and sequestration projects. But not just that, guess what else we found?’ Jake left a dramatic pause.
‘What?’ Holly frowned.
‘He used to work for AtWorld. You know, the company that tried to wreck Blue Gum Flats.’ He laughed as water rolled down his cheeks. ‘Mum was like a pitbull terrier.’ He pointed to the shed where the truck would normally be parked. ‘She’s already gone to tell Mr Armstrong.’
Holly was gobsmacked. So that was why Mr Parker wanted them gone. He knew the Harveys would make trouble for him.
‘But . . .’ Holly tried to digest what Jake was saying. ‘Mr Parker has already bought this place. They’re settling the deal today. At midday.’
‘Not if Mum gets there first.’
Holly’s head blurred with rain and confusion as she tried to guess what all this might mean. Either way, there would be no building job and no reason to stay. ‘We’ll still be leaving,’ she said. ‘Still be broke. Won’t make much difference to us.’
At that point the truck, loaded with their stuff, turned into the driveway. Holly ran to open the door for her mother. ‘What happened? What did they say?’
‘I gave Pat some information about his partner,’ said Mum. She had to shout to be heard above the din of the rain. ‘What he does with that is his business.’ She stepped out and closed the truck door behind her. ‘Let’s stay until midday. I want to know how this turns out. Besides, we can’t leave until the wildlife lady comes to pick up the joeys.’ She marched quickly through the rain to the shack.
Dad was still in the truck, with his phone clamped to his ear. She couldn’t make out a word of the conversation. Finally he stepped out of the truck with an annoyed look.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Now he wants us to stay!’ said Ken, glaring at his phone. ‘Got the whole truck packed up, just about to drive out the gate, and he wants us to wait while he sorts out whether or not he wants to build a bloody house.’
‘So the deal’s going ahead? They couldn’t stop it?’ She didn’t know whether to be happy to be staying longer or shattered for Kaydon.
‘It’s going ahead,’ said her dad, ‘but with a new investor. The legals will take forever to sort out. We’ll be stuck in limbo for weeks.’
‘So, we’re staying?’
‘I don’t know,’ he grumbled. ‘Might be easier to just find another job. These guys don’t know what they want. I said I’d talk to your mum and get back to him.’ He tucked the phone into his pocket and went inside the hut.
Holly stayed outside. Rain. She watched it grow heavier, washing away the angry heat and drenching the ground with soaking joy. She could feel the hope in it. She imagined how the farmers must be rejoicing and she felt happy for them.
Suddenly she felt like dancing.
She launched into the sheets of water and tw
irled with her arms out wide, face to the sky. She let the rain wash through her heart like a transfusion of new blood, rinsing away the despair, filling her with hope and goodness. It was like ripping off bandaids and finding the scars had healed, unlocking chains, opening doors. She danced until it felt as though the rain was dancing with her.
Jake appeared from nowhere and took her by the hands, dancing her around and around in a sweeping arc, laughing into the haze of water. Their feet splashed through puddles and splattered mud up their legs. Holly’s wet hair clung to her face and water ran off the top of her nose and onto her lower lip. Her clothes clung to her.
Through the noise and the laughter came more laughter. A grey horse cantered up the driveway, its sides heaving and its nostrils flaring. On its back were not one but two boys.
Kaydon pulled at the reins. Water flowed off his hat, and underneath it his eyes were wide with boyish hope. ‘Did your dad say yes?’
She smiled. ‘He’s gone to ask Mum. I think she’ll say yes.’
He laughed, and gestured to Dan over his shoulder. ‘Meet your new boss!’
Dan peered over Kaydon’s shoulders. ‘I think we’ve already met!’
‘You are kidding.’ Jake dropped Holly’s hands. He pointed a finger at Dan. ‘I am not working for that guy.’ He stormed to the van, slamming the door shut after him.
‘He’ll come round.’ Dan gave her a wink. ‘Or I’ll dock his pay.’ He gave a manic laugh.
Both boys slipped off the horse.
Dan loped after Jake. He banged his fist on the door of the van. ‘That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?’
‘Go away,’ Jake yelled from inside.
‘Look, I said I was sorry. I was messed up, all right?’
‘Lovers’ tiff,’ said Kaydon.
Holly stared up at Kaydon. ‘Is Dan gay too?’
‘What, Jake is gay?’ He looked shocked. ‘I was only joking.’
‘Ah, yeah,’ said Holly. ‘And Dan?’
‘Yep.’ Kaydon stared at Dan, who had moved to the window and was still trying to negotiate. ‘Do they both know?’
