Paige nodded, smiled and wondered how long before she’d hear her daughter espousing that particular chestnut. ‘So, what you’re saying, Sharni,’ she clarified, ‘is if we fake it, they know and respond accordingly.’
‘Exactly. By letting it all out we can better control our emotions and reduce negative feelings. That will then lower our blood pressure and a horse will detect this and lower theirs in response. You’ll see the change in their behaviours. And because they’re no longer on high alert and wondering what’s worrying you, they won’t spook. Ask me and I’ll tell you, horses are way smarter than humans—and more fun to be around most times as well.’
‘This would not surprise me,’ Alice quipped.
‘For a start, they know expressing their emotions is better than suppressing them. Plus, they don’t let themselves get worked up over negative things or stuff they can’t do anything about. Horses live in the moment, whereas most people live in the past or worry about the future. And we all know dwelling on the past brings baggage, while focusing on the future can create anxiety,’ Sharni explained. ‘Horses don’t waste time fretting over every little thing in the way some animals do.’
‘Hmm, yes, I see.’ Alice glanced at Toto, the dog’s ears pricked to the sound of distant squeals of children returning from Skippy-seeking adventures.
‘Dogs are a perfect contrast to the horse,’ Sharni went on. ‘Take the dingo. The pack will constantly circle and stalk and strategise, wanting to outsmart whatever it is: potential food or predator. Not horses. And unlike humans, they don’t stay alert all night lamenting all the what ifs and why nots of life. Things just are. They get over it and move on.
‘Same with anger . . .’ Sharni was on a roll and Paige almost resented such an impassioned soliloquy. There’d been a time when Paige had sounded just as enthusiastic, only about food. ‘They get angry and get over it. You watch when a stallion gets a bit frisky around the mares that aren’t in the mood. To warn him off, the girls pin their ears back, kick out sometimes, and squeal if the idiot just isn’t getting the message.’
‘I reckon we can all relate to that,’ Paige quipped.
‘Humans go on for days pouting, but at the same time pretend they’re not upset.’ Sharni shrugged. ‘Unlike humans, the smart horse will consider the reason behind the anger, change something in response and let the emotion go so they can resume their enjoyment of life. Because horses live in the moment there is no fear of what’s ahead or sadness because of something past.’
This was quickly becoming an analogy for Paige’s marriage.
‘Same as when it comes to being scared of something. Dealing with fear and vulnerability is about realising you’re not in actual danger, but rather the situation is simply taking you out of your comfort zone. And it’s only when we’re outside our comfort zone, when we’re feeling most vulnerable, that humans learn the best. But, humans are also frightened of change.’
‘And you’re going to tell us horses aren’t?’
‘You’re catching on quick.’ She winked at Paige. ‘Horses are highly adaptable. New things stimulate. Don’t get me wrong; a threatened horse can run, but a cornered one might just as easily fight. They assess the situation and make that decision.’
‘The old fight or flight,’ Alice contributed.
‘Sort of. The threat is not necessarily a predator. Sometimes their basic needs, like food and water, are not being met so they pack up the family and go in search of new, greener pastures. Humans tend to think they’re the superior being because they have a range of emotions. Well, horses feel everything, too, only they don’t hold grudges and they don’t sit around banging on about how bad the situation is. Moving on becomes an adventure, something to enjoy rather than resent.’
Paige tried to not look at Alice. This lecture was becoming freakishly relevant to their discussion earlier, and to her relationship with Robert.
‘And what’s not to enjoy about being a horse?’ Sharni continued. ‘I’m so coming back in my second life as a beautiful, big Palomino.’
‘I can imagine you doing just that,’ Paige said, watching an animated Sharni’s blonde mane swish around her shoulders.
‘Standing and taking stock before making any big decisions is the first lesson a horse can teach us. Take time. Slow down. Look around. Wild horses might migrate over vast distances throughout the year, but they take their time, keep themselves well nourished as they roam, and enjoy everything the season offers. What good is life if you don’t enjoy the journey?’
‘Do you, Sharni . . . ? Enjoy the journey, I mean?’ Paige asked.
‘Hell yeah! If I didn’t I’d be married and in some rut. No way am I settling for anything other than real love. And until I find a two-legged stallion to fit the bill, I’ll keep my horses.’ The footrest on the old recliner lowered with a snap and Sharni sprung forward. ‘Okay, I’d best go round up our two little boomers out back. I’ll send them over. And thanks for occupying Liam today, Paige. I could seriously get used to having you around.’
13
The early morning indigo sky had darkened to an ominous gun-metal grey so dense that not even the sun was game to poke its warmth-giving face through. The threat of rain did not perturb Paige. She and Mati would go exploring with Liam, as planned, having enjoyed their ritualistic morning tea complete with scones and Aiden’s homemade jam, which had secured a thumbs up from the harshest of critiques.
‘Yummy, Mummy,’ Mati had announced on her second helping.
This place was somewhere delightfully different and getting more special every minute. Even though the small town might not have been their intended destination, and according to Sharni humans weren’t as smart as horses when it came to adapting to new surroundings, Paige could most certainly settle into Coolabah Tree Gully. She’d already migrated over a vast distance and the time was right to start enjoying life and be nourished by the experience. ‘What good is life if you don’t enjoy the journey?’ Sharni had asked. As for shaking off any resentment? That might take a little longer, Paige told herself while grabbing her bag.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to come for a drive, Alice?’
‘No, thank you, dear. But you go. Enjoy yourself.’
‘I intend to make every second in this gorgeous corner of the country count.’
If Paige couldn’t persuade Alice to change her mind about staying on here when the roads opened, she would have to make the most of the next couple of days. That meant ignoring the growing line of rain clouds crowning the surrounding mountains—clouds Mati seemed to think would burst should a pointy mountain peak poke a hole in one.
Paige steered the car down the long gravel drive and away from the property’s gates to the sounds of screeching tyres, courtesy of race car-loving Liam in the back seat. Every so often the noises stopped so he could tell Paige where to go, even though driving directions were hardly needed in a town with so few streets and only one way down the mountain. Sharni had jumped at Paige’s offer to take the boy along as preferable to her usual school holiday routine of taking her son to the pub, where he’d wait out her shift playing with his treasured cars on the veranda, or amusing the patrons with his little man antics. Paige was happy to feel appreciated.
The trio’s first stop was the flood-level indicators at the picnic area on the far side of town. The river seemed no more wild, nor threatening, than yesterday—just very full and, according to Matilda, looking ‘like a big chocolate milkshake’.
Hmm, chocolate! Paige licked her lips, swallowed. If she hadn’t been driving she might have closed her eyes to recall the taste, but not even her very active imagination could do justice to the real thing—the sickly, smooth sensation of something as good as thick chocolate milk. Such a simple pleasure and such a terrible shame she could now only live vicariously.
The trio stopped by the takeaway, Liam’s eyes wide with surprise that an adult would actually volunteer to buy him such a treat. After ordering two milkshakes, it was Pai
ge’s turn to watch wide-eyed as the shopkeeper scooped two giant balls of real ice cream followed by two generous pumps of flavouring into a takeaway cup. When the woman let a bucket-load of milk glug glug into the cup before slamming the rim under the whizzer, Paige knew those miserly city milk bar owners could learn a thing or two from this place.
With the kids slurping the thick drink through skinny straws, big eyes bursting over the rim of the paper containers—a close second to tasting it herself—Paige bundled them back into the car. Liam wanted to show Mati his school, so they stopped briefly at the monkey bars in the playground of the two-room facility where Liam showed off his repertoire of tricks. Watching him hurl his little body around the bars after that enormous drink—up and over, down and around, swinging right then left, back and forth, back and forth—was making Paige feel quite ill.
‘Okay, you monkeys, enough silly business. Come on,’ she insisted, too terrified the arm-breaker bars might live up to their reputation while on her watch. They might also run out of dry weather. Those fat clouds were getting bigger and darker, and another drenching was not on her adventure list for today—cow or no cow. ‘Where to now, kids?’
‘Our Step Hani Alex and Er Farm. Over here,’ Liam called back, leaving a bewildered Paige behind as he ran off towards the small parcel of fenced land at the bottom of the playground, well shaded by a tree with limbs stretching as wide as they did high. Directly under the tree was a small hen house wedged on stilts, a dozen brown chickens scratching and pecking the dirt of a large caged area. Behind a gate in another fenced yard was a goat. Or was it a freshly shorn sheep?
Shame on you, Paige! Clearly not a country bone in your body.
‘Liam?’ she asked, curious. ‘What is a Step Hani Alex and . . . Er Farm? She braced for one of his very grown-up explanations. Instead, he shrugged and raced to the far side of the expansive vegetable patch.
‘This, here, is our weather channel thing.’ He fiddled with the weathercock, then tipped water from a rain gauge before returning the container to its post in the ground.
‘Do you mean weather station?’ Paige offered.
‘Yeah, that’s what I said. Weather station.’
Matilda’s face scrunched. ‘What do you need all that for?’
‘It . . . um . . .’ The words temporarily escaped him. ‘Coz we need to be careful that we don’t change the weather.’
A hand pressed to her mouth hid Paige’s smile. She could have turned away, but Mati was doing her Nana Alice impersonation: hands on hips, head tilted to one side, both eyebrows raised; Mati couldn’t do just one like Nancy and Paige.
‘No one can change the weather,’ she decreed.
Liam’s tiny version of a huff was even cuter. ‘Can too.’
‘Can-not!’
‘Can too.’
‘Okay, knock it off. Let’s move on, shall we?’
On the short walk between the schoolyard and the pub, where she’d planned to meet up with Sharni, Paige espoused a few facts about climate change to her young charges. Not that her explanation had made things much clearer—judging from the two small, stunned faces squinting up at her, and the adorable debate that followed about who Mother Nature was and whether she could or could not stop the rain.
At the pub, Banjo shouted them a drink. Not surprisingly after those milkshakes the kids hardly touched their pink lemonades. The place was quite crowded, Sharni’s mother, Honey, working the bar. The petite powerhouse who waved a pleated folding fan while issuing loud, frantic-sounding orders to everyone, including the customers, was busy shooing her daughter away.
‘Go. Go. Go-go-go,’ she shouted, hands and fan waving. ‘Out, out. Rest, rest.’
‘Mothers!’ Sharni joined Paige on a stool at the wide railing dotted with drink coasters and black plastic ashtrays, while Mati and Liam entertained themselves with toys at the far end of the veranda.
‘Had a fun time?’ she asked Paige.
‘Interesting. Liam wanted us to see his, ah, Step Hani Alex and something Farm?’
Sharni’s face scrunched. ‘You’ll have to run that by me again.’
‘The rather substantial garden at his school,’ Paige explained. ‘He called it a Step Hani something or other.’
Sharni’s laugh shocked old Cobber, snoozing by her feet, awake. ‘He means the Stephanie Alexander Garden. The school first got involved in the program a few years ago. That was before the education department wanted to strip us of funding and take half the demountable classrooms away. The principal’s fight to keep the school open included different initiatives. One was the Stephanie Alexander food education program. That’s when Liam decided to be a vegie-train. In fact, he wants to grow up and be a chef like his uncle Aiden.’
Before Paige could comment, Sharni muttered out of the corner of her mouth, ‘Uh oh!’, and a blush of red stormed her neck.
‘Hey Sharn, thought that was you.’ A well-dressed, gaunt, gangly man approached.
‘Hey yourself, Gil,’ she returned.
‘How’ve you been? Not seen too much of you . . . Ah, what I mean is, I’ve not seen you round town lately.’
‘Hmm, not sure why not. I haven’t gone anywhere. Bit tied down, but wouldn’t have it any other way.’ Sharni’s fringe flicked towards her son.
‘Right, yeah, of course.’
Paige noticed Sharni’s wasn’t the only blush in full bloom. The pair, faces flushed red, dancing around awkward dialogue, looked a lot like the redheaded king parrot mating ritual Paige had witnessed on the lawn outside the cottage this morning.
‘You know how Dad is, Gil. Keeps me pretty busy and Mum was away for a while visiting relos. And then there’s Liam and the horses, my ankle and . . .’
‘Gotcha,’ he said, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of beige jeans, fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm on his hips. ‘I’m out this way checking on the Granger property, what with all this water. Got some folks coming down from Bris Vegas to check the place out. If they can get through, and if a busted riverbank hasn’t swallowed up the bottom paddocks by then. More rain due any minute I’d say.’
‘Rain, yeah, as if we need any more of that.’
‘And this came into the office yesterday.’ One hand retrieved a note from the breast pocket of his red-chequered shirt. He shoved the envelope towards Sharni. ‘I was going to leave it at the bar for you. It’s from Rory. Figured you’d best see for yourself.’
‘A landlord letter is never good.’ Sharni seemed to fumble, despite the envelope already being open, making Paige wonder if it was the sender or the deliverer that had affected the normally confident younger woman. She looked up, nodded as though to say, ‘As expected,’ folded the small slip of paper and handed it back to Gil. ‘Thanks for the heads up.’
‘You can hang on to that one. I’ve kept a copy for the office.’ He jerked his head as if the office was only across the street, while his hands returned to the side pockets of jeans that fitted somewhat snugly over skinny thighs. Gil was not a young man—certainly quite a few years older than Sharni—but there was something endearing about him. Perhaps the guarded smile on a freckled face with rosy cheeks and red hair? ‘What will you do?’ he asked.
‘First I’ll have to break the news to my new roomie here. She’s only just moved into the cottage.’ She thumbed towards Paige and Gil doffed his hat as if only noticing for the first time someone else shared the space at the railing with Sharni.
‘You gunna tell Aiden about Rory coming back?’
‘From a distance if I’m smart. I may make a paper aeroplane from this letter, launch it and run.’ They both smiled.
‘All righty then. Keep in touch.’ He turned to go, stopping briefly to turn back, those nervous hands still safely tucked into his pants pockets. ‘Of course, if you need a place to bunk down, you know where to find me. I mean, I have rentals on the books that . . . Anyway, you know what I mean.’
‘Yeah, thanks Gil, I know. See ya round.’
‘See
ing a little more of you would be good, Sharni.’ He dipped the brim of his leather stockman’s hat in Paige’s direction, probably to camouflage yet another blush to his cheeks, then scurried towards the dust-coloured Land Cruiser. Not wasting time, he pulled out from the opposite side of the road, chucked a single-handed U-turn in front of the pub, and waved the other hand hanging out the driver’s window, heavy metal music blaring.
The words Greener Pastures Realty, Saddleton, hardly visible on the side door under all the dirt, caught Paige’s eye.
Darn! Had she realised, Paige could have enquired about the situation at the boatshed. Some roads were obviously open, although the water line—make that mud line—on his four wheel drive with a snorkel suggested they possibly remained impassable in her Audi. Besides, according to Alice, Paige had another two days here before having to think about alternative accommodation. At least she hoped they could. From witnessing Sharni and Gil’s interaction, this place might start to get even more interesting. As with the kids and their chocolate milkshake today, Paige could live vicariously through young Sharni. After all, life for her these days was pretty much void of romance, with the exception of the occasional midday movie. At least what Sharni and Gil had going on was real—and kind of cute.
Sharni glanced briefly at the letter again before tucking it down the front of what appeared to be her signature outfit, a skimpy singlet top. Today’s colour? Hot pink.
‘Not good news, I take it?’ Paige queried, trying not to sound nosy.
‘Could be worse. All depends on who you are. My landlord’s coming home and wants to move into the cottage.’
‘As in our cottage?’ Paige knew she sounded disappointed. She also knew she probably shouldn’t have referred to the place as ‘our’ cottage. She should’ve known the arrangement was too good to be true. ‘I mean, why not stay in the main house?’
‘I guess because I have a lease. Not sure sharing with Rory would be the best thing. Bit out of the blue.’
‘How soon?’ Paige was already mentally packing their belongings and working out where they’d go next. Saddleton probably. Worst case, the change of plans would add weight to Alice’s argument that they simply go back to Sydney.
Season of Shadow and Light Page 17
