Starting from Scratch

by Penelope Janu

  Grasping the back of his chair with his large, work-roughened hands, Gus stands. He speaks from the heart, and well past his time limit, detailing the difficulties farmers are likely to face.

  ‘That’s it from me, Sapphie,’ he says finally, plonking his hat back on his head. ‘You’re up next, Cassie.’

  Cassie undoes the toggles of her coat and hangs it on the back of her chair. She’s wearing a jumper and cardigan in matching shades of green, and her skirt has a blue-and-green check.

  ‘As most of you know,’ I say, ‘Cassandra Lewis is a lawyer. But she’s also involved with numerous wildlife conservation organisations, and is a passionate advocate for living sustainably. Today she’s going to talk about the practical measures we can take, individually and collectively, over the next few months.’

  Cassie beams at the audience. ‘Each dry day brings us closer to the much needed rain that’—she smiles at Luke—‘we’re told not to expect until much later in the year. But in the meantime, whether we live on a property of thousands of hectares, a market garden or a vineyard, or keep an apartment in the heart of Dubbo, we must do what we can to preserve the water we have.’

  There’s a flurry of activity in the tea break as people rush to the counter in the back corner of the hall, where I’ve set up the urn and china cups, teabags and instant coffee. A CWA member joins us, holding a donations bucket in one hand and a container of homemade chocolate biscuits in another.

  When Cassie rings a bell fifteen minutes later, suggesting that everyone return to their seats for Hugo’s talk, Matts and Hugo are still deep in conversation at the table. When Matts says something and smiles, Hugo throws his head back and laughs.

  ‘We’d better get back to work,’ I say to Gus, as I load the last of the cups into a bucket.

  ‘Sapphie!’ Hugo hisses, jiggling my seat before sitting down next to me. ‘What sort of chair are you? Did you listen to anything I said in the past fifteen minutes?’

  ‘I—’ I pick up my pen and put a tick next to Hugo’s name on the list. ‘It was enlightening. I thought you only knew about alpine frogs.’

  He grins as he snatches the pen and draws a bold blue circle around Matts’s name. ‘Item four, sleepyhead. Introduce your guest.’

  Matts doesn’t stand in front of his chair like Luke and Cassie, or behind it like Gus and Hugo. He doesn’t stride up and down in front of the audience like Mr Chambers. After I introduce him, hurriedly and briefly, he walks to the front of the hall and turns. He pulls at a thread on the hip of his jeans. The light catches his hair when he lifts his head.

  ‘Good evening.’ His smile is confident and personable. Charming. Even though he’s never even met these people. Not once in his life. ‘I was born in Finland, which is also known as “the land of a thousand lakes”. Seventy per cent of my country is forested and water is abundant. In winter, darkness in parts of the country falls two hours after midday. In summer, there is daylight at midnight. So what do our countries have in common? What can we learn from each other?’

  It’s almost nine o’clock, and many in the audience have a long drive home. But no one is shuffling their feet or checking their watch.

  ‘The Ramsar Secretariat was set up under the Ramsar Convention, of which Australia is a signatory, to encourage the global protection of wetland environments and the sustainable use of water resources. Bogs, marshes, flood plains, peat lands, lagoons, channels, swamps, mires—these shallow bodies of water are classed as wetlands, and thousands are of international importance. Like the Macquarie Marshes, many are noted on the Ramsar List.’

  When Matts walks to the table and takes a sip of water, his hand is perfectly steady. He smiles at the elderly lady in the front row and she smiles shyly back.

  ‘The Macquarie Marshes are extensive and diverse,’ Matts continues, ‘which is why they’re important. The habitats within them are unique, and they support nationally endangered bird and fish species, and a variety of other plants and animals. Particularly in times of drought, when other inland wetlands dry out, the marshes serve a critically important role as a wildlife refuge. They sustain many species of flora and fauna that might otherwise die out.’

  When Cassie raises her hand, Matts walks towards her. ‘You have a question?’

  ‘Your term “refuge” is particularly apt. Thousands of water and woodland birds nest at the marshes. Plant species like river red gum, coolabah and water couch grasslands are vital to the ecosystem and biodiversity.’

  Matts nods respectfully. ‘Yes.’

  ‘There’s a great deal of information available from academia and government, but I have other sources, mostly wildlife and environmental volunteers. Can we meet again? I’d like to share their perspectives.’

  ‘Certainly,’ Matts says.

  Our eyes meet as he walks past my chair, but there’s no hint that he knows me better than anybody else in the room. What does he see in my expression?

  Forget you ever knew me.

  I turn away, but once he gets back to his spot at the front of the hall, I watch him like everybody else. He puts his hands in his pockets again.

  ‘River and creek diversions, dam construction, pipelines and drainage, a growing population and associated industrial development, have permanently destroyed what took millennia to develop—the natural flow of rivers, streams and other watercourses into wetlands. The secretariat assists signatory countries to restore, rehabilitate and maintain wetland environments, with the aim of returning them to, as far as is possible, their natural state.’

  Hugo kicks me under the table. ‘Good speaker,’ he whispers loudly, raising his thumbs.

  I frown and push his foot away. ‘Shh.’

  Matts’s hands go from his hoodie pockets to the front pockets of his jeans. Could he be any more at ease?

  ‘The construction of the Brindabilly and other dams,’ he says, ‘permanently disrupted the flow to the marshes, not only the amount of water but how it arrived—the patterns of its flow. This had a catastrophic effect on the ecosystem. Irrespective of improvements in the past twenty years, the altered water supply poses a threat to the wetlands.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Cassie says.

  ‘A loss of any habitat leads to a decline in biodiversity, and of all habitats around the world, wetlands are the most threatened. The marshes contain a—’ Matts takes his hands out of his pockets and looks down at them, as if searching for a word that might be in his notes, even though he has none. ‘The marshes contain a mosaic of habitats. They also provide an important conduit for the movement of native fish and amphibians. Hugo? Could you expand on this?’

  Hugo sits forward in his chair and links his hands. ‘Movement through the marshes is essential in terms of food and shelter, and also reproduction. Species rely on a variety of habitats in the wetlands to find mates, lay eggs and nurture their offspring.’

  Matts turns to the audience again. ‘I was invited by your government to advise on a new strategic plan for Ramsar-listed wetlands. As an inland semi-permanent wetland, the Macquarie Marshes are of interest.’

  ‘In our most recent drought,’ Cassie says, ‘the marshes dried out completely, didn’t they?’

  ‘The shortage of environmental water for the towns and rivers had a devastating impact on the marshes,’ Matts says. ‘Which is why many stakeholders, including your government, are reconsidering water-sharing strategies.’ He looks at me. ‘Would you like to comment, Sapphire?’

  I link my hands in front of me like Hugo did. ‘Farmers, businesses that rely on agriculture, recreational fishers, tourists and tourism operators, people who live and work in the towns, they all suffered in the last drought, as did wildlife, livestock and the environment as a whole. We try to give a voice to all interests, and operate on the assumption that what is good for one interest is likely to benefit another.’

  ‘You seek a good outcome for the environment, including the river system, and recognise this has to be balanced by competing cultural, domestic
, industrial and agricultural interests.’ He glances at Luke. ‘Do I have this right?’

  Luke smiles. ‘Sure do. And as I understand it, river water should end up in the wetlands as well.’

  ‘Water distribution through catchments is highly regulated,’ Matts says. ‘To replicate the flow that the wetlands once had, in both wet and dry conditions, water must be maintained at minimum levels and not distributed to agricultural and other interests at the expense of future environmental demands.’

  Cassie nods vigorously. ‘That’s right.’

  Gus’s chair tips alarmingly as he gets to his feet. ‘What are you getting at, Matts?’ he says, crossing his arms. ‘Are you blaming the farmers for the rivers running dry?’

  ‘Farmers understand that agricultural production requires a healthy river system,’ Matts says. ‘Most farmers also acknowledge that adequate environmental water is fundamental, and large-scale farming dependent on irrigation is not sustainable.’

  Gus nods. ‘Reckon you’ve got that right. When a man can’t feed and water his own sheep and cattle, there’s something gone wrong.’

  ‘How long have you lived here?’

  ‘All my life, and I’m going on eighty-two.’ Gus looks around the audience. ‘Which is why, like a few old-timers here, I like to think I see both sides of the argument. Some farmers, big corporations mostly, they suck the land dry. The rest of us want what’s best for it. We want to see the river like it was, back in the days when my grandpa sat at a desk in Sapphie’s old schoolhouse.’

  ‘When the river flooded,’ I say, ‘it reached the first step of the porch. That’s why the new school was built on higher ground.’

  Gus clears his throat. ‘I don’t get to do much reading these days, Dr Laaksonen, my eyes not being what they were, but I listen to the radio and talk to the locals, and I reckon we’re thinking along the same lines. You’re saying what’s good for the wetlands will be good for the rivers. And what’s good for the rivers will be good for the farmers.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘In that case, Sapphie,’ Gus says, winking at me, ‘I reckon we have nothing to fear from this Ramsar business.’ His hat is on the table in front of him and he straightens it. He smiles at Matts. ‘You’ve won me over, Dr Laaksonen.’

  ‘Matts, please.’

  When I pick up my pen, it hovers over the page. What I’d like to write isn’t appropriate for the minutes. Dr Matts Laaksonen is smart, knowledgeable and has excellent communications skills. He is also extremely attractive.

  ‘Item five on the agenda is question time,’ I say briskly. ‘Does anyone have any questions? If not, we can call it a—’

  Mr Chambers clears his throat. ‘Your comments were most instructive, Matts. But I would like to stress that my government is doing its best to ensure that the original functions and values of the wetlands are preserved.’

  ‘Thank you, Douglas,’ Matts says. ‘But there are a range of outcomes and interests and these often clash. How do we balance them?’

  ‘Through government initiatives.’

  Matts turns to me. ‘Do you agree with that, Sapphire? What is your committee’s position?’

  I sit a little straighter in my chair. ‘We believe that all views should be taken into account, while recognising they change over time. It wasn’t too long ago that some in the community’—I resist the urge to look at Mr Chambers—‘didn’t believe in global warming.’

  ‘You meet regularly?’

  ‘We chat informally all the time, and try to reach consensus decisions that reflect our different perspectives.’ I count on my fingers. ‘Gus talks to the farmers. Luke lets us know what’s going on in Dubbo and other large regional centres, and keeps us up to date on council programs. I consult with private and public interests in the town. Cassie advises on environmental challenges and wildlife interests. Rain changes everything, but we try to think ahead about the water that’s stored and how it should be used in the future. We all care about where we live. More often than not, our interests coincide.’

  ‘Cooperation and consultation?’ Matts says.

  ‘Horseshoe is a small town, but this committee works well together, and other towns follow our lead. We believe our government, irrespective of other demands on its budget, should put more money into research and give additional financial support to country areas so we can use allocated water efficiently and sustainably. A number of the improvements the government has funded—river rehabilitation, targeted water distribution, conservation—are attributable to input from local committees like ours.’

  ‘Well said, Sapphie,’ Cassie says. ‘I second that.’

  ‘Third it,’ Gus says.

  Luke nods. ‘Sure.’

  Matts’s gaze moves deliberately along the table. Mr Chambers, Luke, Gus, Cassie, Hugo.

  By the time his eyes meet mine, I’m tapping my pages on the table to line them up.

  ‘Sapphire?’

  I put the papers in front of me. ‘Matts?’

  ‘I want to join your committee.’

  CHAPTER

  13

  I hold my pen tightly as I circle item six: Meeting closed.

  My chair scrapes the floor as I stand and address the audience. ‘Thanks for coming out in the cold, and for your support of and interest in the work of the committee. Please thank our speakers, Hugo Hallstead and Matts Laaksonen.’

  After the applause dies down, people stack chairs and carry them to the back of the hall. Others chat as they move towards the exit. I sort through papers and file them methodically into my bag.

  I want to join your committee.

  It was a request.

  His words were perfectly clear but I ignored them.

  Matts is leaning against the wall, looking at his phone, but straightens politely when he sees the elderly lady walk towards him. He smiles as he shakes the woman’s hand. She’s halfway down the aisle when she turns and waves over her shoulder.

  Mr Chambers joins Matts and beckons to the rest of the committee. I pick up the bucket of dirty dishes before joining them. My bag is slung over my shoulder.

  ‘Thanks for your reports and contributions. I’d like to lock up now.’

  Mr Chambers purses his lips. ‘Surely we’ll respond to Matts’s offer to join the committee first?’

  I feel Matts’s eyes on the side of my face. ‘What’s the rush?’ I say.

  ‘Why delay a decision?’

  ‘Cassie reckons Matts doesn’t get to vote like the rest of us,’ Gus says, ‘if that’s what you’re worried about. He gets to see how we go about things, that’s all.’

  ‘He’d be involved as an ex officio member,’ Cassie says, ‘observing the committee’s day-to-day operations, contributing to our discussions and giving advice.’ She smiles at Matts. ‘Which we may or may not accept.’

  ‘The Horseshoe Committee is an outstanding example of what can be achieved through local representation,’ Mr Chambers says. ‘And we’d have an opportunity to contribute to the valuable work of the Ramsar Secretariat. It benefits us all.’

  ‘We’re only an advisory committee,’ Luke says, ‘but Matts’s involvement will encourage the authorities to listen to us. It will improve our profile, and might encourage the government to increase funding.’

  ‘No.’ My voice is too loud. My tone is too sharp. I clear my throat. ‘We should take our time, consider this properly.’

  Hugo is staring again. I’m sure he’d kick me if he could do it without being noticed. It’s so quiet that I hear my own breathing.

  Matts narrows his eyes. But there’s no need for him to speak, not when the other committee members are keen to do it for him.

  Mr Chambers has the loudest voice. ‘I’ll take responsibility for the paperwork,’ he says. ‘I’ve worked on numerous committees with ex officio members—visiting academics and so on.’

  When Hugo pulls at the bucket, I hold it closer. ‘Give, Sapph,’ he whispers. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘You
’re not even on the committee.’ I speak between my teeth.

  ‘You ask me to join it every bloody month.’

  Cassie glances at me before holding up a hand. ‘Sapphie has made a valid point—there’s no need to rush our decision. We’ll have another committee meeting soon enough, and we can decide before then.’ She smiles at Matts. ‘I’m sure you understand.’

  Gus blows on his hands and stamps his feet. ‘Let’s meet in the pub next time. Luke, Sapphie and me are already there for trivia on Saturday nights. Let’s get together afterwards.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Cassie says. ‘I’ll put it in the diary for four weeks on Saturday. Eight o’clock?’ She smiles at Matts again. ‘All going well, perhaps you can join us?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Mr Chambers frowns as he peers at his phone. ‘I have another commitment,’ he says.

  ‘That’s a shame, mate,’ Hugo says, shaking Mr Chambers’s hand before turning to me. ‘I’ll call it a night, Sapph. See you later.’

  By the time I’ve herded out the stragglers, turned off the lights and locked the doors, there’s no sign of Matts or the other committee members. I’d like nothing better than to go home too. I could climb into bed, pull my doona over my head and pretend that tonight never happened, but Hugo is bound to ask questions.

  Not that I can blame him. In a professional sense, there’s no reason to turn Matts down. In a personal sense? It’s bad enough having to deal with my father without adding Matts to the mix.

  The pump for the shower is rumbling when I leave the bucket and my bag on the schoolhouse porch and walk the few hundred metres to town. A group of visitors, probably the grey nomads, walk out of the pub and stroll down the footpath in front of me, talking and laughing. When we meet up at the T-junction at the bottom of the hill, a man wearing a tartan cap touches its peak and nods.

  ‘We’re stretching our legs before we turn in,’ he says.

  ‘Me too.’ I press my hands more deeply into my pockets. ‘But I wish I’d worn my gloves.’

  There are no cars in sight, but I run across the road to the park. The large oaks and elms in the formal part of the gardens, even bare of leaves, block out the streetlights, but the moon and stars shine brightly. The smaller trees in the shaded areas, rhododendron and camellias, are budding or flowering despite the dry weather. Clumps of bulbs push through the mulch near the cenotaph.