‘Wow,’ whispered Taylor.
For a moment I thought she was being sarcastic. Then I realised she and Lizzy probably hadn’t seen farmland like this before. A barren patchwork of paddocks broken only by the snake of bitumen or branches of a eucalypt. The farmland was serviced by a highway sweeping down from somewhere to the right of us. There was a petrol station and a cluster of stores a few kilometres along this road, and at least one homestead that we could make out. Otherwise it was the lifeless summer palette of rural Australia.
‘That’s it then,’ said Taylor.
I looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It happened everywhere,’ she replied.
‘I’m pretty sure that the view from here would look like this a lot of the time. Irrespective of any global catastrophe,’ I said.
Taylor wasn’t convinced.
‘See that truck down there?’ she asked.
I turned back and traced the highway as it headed east into the distance. At the point where my eyes started to struggle, I saw something. A roadtrain. It was strewn about the road. The back half lying sideways. The front half off to the left. Shrubs had begun to grow up around the cab. The driver had disappeared with the rest of them.
Taylor turned and headed back to the house, writing off the rest of the country with a shrug, like only she could. I lingered for a while, trying to figure out how I felt about the world now that I could finally look at it. It seemed weird that our only view from Carousel for all of those months was of the hills. And now we were out of there, this is where we found ourselves.
When I arrived back down at the last house, Taylor was in the driveway, empty-handed.
‘Should we check inside?’ I asked.
‘I did. It’s empty,’ she replied.
Her brain was ticking over.
‘What, totally?’ I asked.
‘Yep. All the cans, packets, batteries. As if we had already been there,’ she replied.
I looked at the house with new caution.
‘That’s weird, right?’ said Taylor.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘The final house.’
‘Do you think somebody stopped here to load up before heading east?’ asked Taylor.
‘Maybe. Probably,’ I replied.
‘How far is the nearest city?’ she asked.
‘City? A long way,’ I replied. ‘There are small towns though. Maybe every fifty kilometres or so. Until the desert.’
‘Do you think we should head that way, too?’ she asked, carefully.
‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘It seems pretty definite.’
Taylor nodded, but was quiet.
‘Plus the airport is west,’ I said.
Taylor looked at me and smiled. She dropped her head onto my shoulder and kept it there for a moment. Taylor had been carrying around a stack of disappointment at what we had found since leaving Carousel. It could be blurred by the mansion and the pool and the sunshine, but days like this brought it hurtling back, front and centre.
She straightened. ‘Let’s get all this stuff back to the house before it gets any hotter. I need a swim and some breakfast.’
We set off back down to the house.
3
Days were long and dreamlike in the hills. We spoke of leaving in general terms, but without any real sense of urgency. In truth, the house had a rhythm that we slipped into and were reluctant to disturb. I think a lot of it had to do with sunlight. We were starved of this in Carousel and our bodies had a thirst for it that ran deep. But it wasn’t only the sun. It was the pitch-dark of night, the haziness of dusk, the spiking clear of morning. The hills had a clock that told us what to do so that we didn’t have to decide for ourselves. Wake up and eat something. Go outside and breathe the morning air. Cool off in the pool. Sleep in the shade. Warm up before dark. Eat, then sleep some more. Life felt simple and comforting, yet strangely full.
If Tommy hadn’t arrived we might have stayed there forever.
We heard his footsteps on the driveway around lunchtime on a hot, blustery Saturday. The three of us had just been swimming and were drying off on the pavers when Chess stood up and looked at the side gate. A few moments later we heard it too. We stared at each other in dopey holiday stupor, none of us with a suitable reaction.
‘Hello,’ called Tommy.
It had the tone of somebody expecting an answer. Somebody that knew the house was inhabited.
‘Hello,’ he said again.
He was at the gate now.
‘Yeah,’ said Taylor.
She rose and Lizzy and I followed.
‘My name is Tommy. I’m not a Loot. I was just wondering if I could charge some batteries,’ he said.
He had a slight accent. German, maybe. He waved both his hands above the tall side gate to show that they were empty. Taylor glanced at me. I kept silent.
‘Just a second, Tommy,’ said Lizzy.
She walked over to the gate with Chess on her heels. Taylor and I followed.
‘This gate is tricky,’ said Lizzy, fiddling with the latch.
After a moment it slipped and she stepped back to let it swing open.
Tommy was a young guy, maybe just in his twenties. Blond, skinny and sunburned. He was wearing a backpack and carrying a couple of camera bags and a small tripod.
‘Oh hi,’ he said, with a big, earnest smile.
The three of us beamed back at him like idiots.
‘Come in, come in,’ said Lizzy. ‘I’m Lizzy. This is Taylor and Nox. And Chess.’
Tommy shook our hands and gave Chess a long, friendly pat.
‘Taylor & Lizzy,’ he said, knowingly.
‘Yep,’ replied Lizzy, beaming.
‘Cool,’ replied Tommy. ‘Thank you for letting me in. It’s going to be a real hot one I think.’
‘No problem,’ said Lizzy.
‘Where have you come from?’ asked Taylor.
Tommy put down his cameras and stretched.
‘I’ve been tracking along the scarp for a few weeks now. I saw some lights over this way one night and really hoped I might find somebody,’ he replied.
The three of us nodded, still dumbstruck by how relaxed he was.
‘Or did you mean before that?’ he asked.
Taylor nodded, pensively.
‘Oh sure. I’m a film student from Denmark. I’ve been interviewing people since the Disappearance. For a documentary,’ he added.
‘Wow,’ said Lizzy.
‘What do you mean, Disappearance?’ asked Taylor.
‘Nobody knows really. People have a lot of theories, but mostly I just ask them about their lives now. What they miss, how they spend their time. That sort of thing. Most people have been really cool. I’ve been getting some great footage,’ he replied.
Lizzy laughed.
‘Sorry,’ said Tommy with another big smile.
This made me laugh too. Tommy joined us. Taylor looked at me and Lizzy like we were idiots. Lizzy put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder to apologise.
‘You’re breaking our brains a little, Tommy,’ said Lizzy. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘Oh yeah. Great,’ he replied.
The four of us shuffled over to the poolside bar and poured some iced teas. Tommy hammered down two of them and started on a third.
‘Thanks. This is great. Really great,’ he said.
‘How many people have you interviewed, Tommy?’ asked Taylor.
‘Gee. A lot now,’ he replied. ‘Maybe fifty or sixty.’
‘In the whole of Perth?’ I asked.
‘Yeah,’ he reflected. ‘It’s pretty empty I guess.’
‘Have you been on your own this whole time?’ asked Lizzy.
‘No. No. I stay with people for a few weeks here and there,’ he replied. ‘And Genna and I stayed on campus together for a while after it happened.’
‘Genna?’ asked Taylor.
‘She’s a dance student. Really talented. We shot a film together in the library,’ he replied.
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‘Is that where you were when it happened?’ I asked.
‘I think so, yeah,’ he replied. ‘It took us a whole day to notice anything.’
‘Seriously?’ asked Lizzy.
‘Yeah. It’s a bit weird but sometimes I hang out at the library for a while. They have some really cool old movies that you can only watch in the building. You’re not really allowed, but sometimes I take a bunch of snacks into the downstairs viewing rooms and stay there all night,’ said Tommy.
‘So you guys were in there watching movies when everybody disappeared?’ asked Taylor.
‘Yeah I think so. I got back to campus pretty late at night from a film shoot in Fremantle. I had four macchiatos on set so I was way too wired to go back to the dorms,’ said Tommy. ‘You have to be pretty quiet over there or some students will complain to the RA.’
We nodded. The three of us were fixated on him.
‘Anyway as a student you get a twenty-four-hour swipe card for the library. It’s pretty great. So I grabbed a bunch of stuff from the vending machines and went straight downstairs to watch some films. After a couple of them I must have gotten tired because I fell asleep until Genna found me in there the next day,’ he continued.
‘How long were you guys in there for?’ asked Taylor.
‘The library? Just for the day,’ replied Tommy.
‘Oh come on,’ said Lizzy to herself.
Tommy smiled at her with a flicker of sympathy and hesitated.
‘What happened next, Tommy?’ asked Taylor.
‘Genna woke me up and we joked around. She’s found me asleep in there twice now. She had Flashdance on Blu-ray so we watched that and talked about the choreography for a while. Then I had my camera and there was nobody around so we decided to shoot a film right then and there,’ said Tommy.
His eyes were full of enthusiasm.
‘It was really simple. Just Genna dancing in a stairwell down on level two. She really nailed the performance though. I ended up shooting it all in one take.’
‘When did you realise something had happened outside?’ asked Taylor.
‘We finished filming and left out of the night exit. Campus was dead, but it was almost dark and break week, so we didn’t really think about it. We went back to our dorms and were going to catch up later to watch the film properly. When I got to my dorm the power was out or something. I went to borrow some noodles from Mindy next door and ask her what the fuck was happening. But she wasn’t in her room. Mindy is always in her room. Always. So I knew something was wrong,’ said Tommy.
We were silent. Tommy downed another glass of iced tea.
‘Did you see Genna again?’ asked Lizzy.
‘Oh yeah. She was pretty upset when she couldn’t find anybody. We actually went back to the library after a while. For some reason it was the only place with power,’ replied Tommy.
‘Where is she now?’ I asked.
‘Oh. She’s good I think. She left with Brian and Paula. An Aussie couple we met in the refectory,’ he said.
‘You didn’t go with them?’ I asked.
‘No. They were great. But they were heading south. Getting out of the city,’ he replied.
Taylor and Lizzy shared a glance.
‘Did they say why?’ I asked.
‘No. They were kind of hippy. So maybe they just like the forests more,’ replied Tommy. ‘They wanted me to come. Especially Genna. She was upset, again. But I wanted to find out what was happening. After they left I broke into the tech room and took some sweet lenses and sound gear.’
His face brightened.
‘I’ve been shooting the documentary pretty much every day since,’ he finished and smiled at us.
The three of us tried to process some of the awe we felt for this guy. He had been out in the world, on his own, with those Bulls and who knows what else, for almost two years now. Not just surviving, but documenting. No sense of the existential crises we had draped ourselves in.
‘What about you guys?’ asked Tommy.
The question caught us out. I looked at Taylor to speak for us but she clammed up.
‘We met in a mall and were stuck in there until just now,’ said Lizzy. ‘Taylor and I were on tour, killing time before we flew out to Asia. Nox was taking a cab to work but the driver wigged out and dropped him at the mall instead. We met another guy who worked there, but he caught something from the shitty aircon and died.’
Said out loud to a stranger, our story sounded vacant and separate from us.
‘That’s terrible. I’m really sorry,’ said Tommy.
His demeanour altered and we got a hint of his maturity. I felt like Tommy had probably heard a lot of horrible stuff since he left the university.
‘Wow. You were stuck in there for a while hey,’ said Tommy, thinking it over.
‘Longer than the other people you’ve met?’ asked Taylor.
‘Oh yeah,’ replied Tommy.
Lizzy sighed, ruefully.
‘Did you come straight to the hills when you got out?’ asked Tommy.
‘No. We were headed for the airport but ran into some trouble,’ I replied.
‘The dogs?’ asked Tommy.
I nodded. Chess repositioned himself beneath Lizzy and eyed the gate.
‘Tommy. The people in your documentary,’ said Taylor carefully. ‘Are they all artists?’
The three of us looked at him. He shuffled, a spike of excitement dancing behind his eyes.
‘You’ve heard of the Curator, too?’ he asked.
‘Who is the Curator?’ asked Taylor.
‘It’s who I’m looking for,’ replied Tommy.
4
Tommy was more tired than he let on. We talked for a while longer before he sat down on a lounge. Then lay back. Then fell asleep altogether. We let him sleep there for most of the day, before waking him up for some food. The four of us ate and talked and watched the lightshow across the city. Tommy looked on with interest, but no real excitement. The lights had been a fixture in his life for much longer than they had in ours.
We found out that he had two sisters back in Denmark, one older, one younger. He had been due to go back and visit them, and his parents, for Christmas a few months after the Disappearance. So when Christmas came around this year it would be his third without them. He also fessed up and told us that Genna and he were more than just friends during their time in the library. But he had still decided not to go south with Brian and Paula, because if he did he would never find out what was happening. Tommy’s story broke our hearts, but was totally defiant and inspiring at the same time.
He slept through the night and most of the following day while the three of us flitted around the house trying to process all that he had told us. Not everyone Tommy had met and interviewed was an artist, but a stack of them were. Way too many to be normal, in his opinion. Normal wasn’t much of a useful word these days, but we got what he was saying. He had met painters, writers, musicians, a sculptor, a bunch of actors and even other filmmakers. Some of them were established and famous, others were just starting out like him.
None of these artists knew for certain what was going on, nor why they were a part of it. Tommy said a lot of them had stopped thinking about it altogether, instead setting up studios wherever they chose and filling days and nights with work and whatever else constituted a regular life for them.
But others spoke of an orchestrator. Somebody that was somehow responsible for their survival amid this weird phenomenon. Put in this way it sounded like a religious figure or cult leader, but I don’t think that was what Tommy believed. He seemed to think there was some kind of synthesis about those who remained in Perth after the Disappearance.
He was super excited to hear that Taylor and Lizzy had recorded an album in Carousel. As if this information somehow validated his theory. I know the Finns didn’t feel arbitrary about the music they created during our time in Carousel. Recording the album had brought them back together after Rocky’s death and made a
bold and defining addition to their catalogue. But Tommy’s theory weighed it down – weighed everything down – with a stack of significance.
Tommy also didn’t seem to have an issue pooling amateur artists in with the established ones. For me, watching Taylor and Lizzy record their album had proven that several significant and intangible traits separated artists like them from the rest of the world. Tommy’s theory about the Curator was interesting, and, within the bizarre new circumstances of the world, maybe even plausible. If nothing else I would totally watch a documentary about it. But it fell down on one major level. Why would a curator shelter an arts grad working part-time at a stationery store from the apocalypse?
All of this stuff aside, it was great to have somebody else around. Without doubt the Finns and I needed some female company pretty desperately, but in Tommy we found a friend and a lightness that none of us had felt in a long time. Tommy’s smile was automatic and infectious. With Taylor he swam laps of the pool and took long hikes where she would pepper him with questions about the city and return full of both hope and doubt. He sat through the new album with Lizzy, giving her a long-awaited second listener and a burst of something that seemed to start her thinking about music again.
With me Tommy just sat around doing not much. It sounds stupid but I didn’t realise how much I needed this simple human interaction. It was like every relationship in the world had so much weight now. Before Carousel the people in my life would ebb and flow at a safe and casual distance. There was nothing major riding on these relationships. With Taylor and Lizzy, and with Rocky, the stakes were automatically high. We had to get along. Buy in. Be awesome. The microscope felt constant.
For some reason I didn’t feel that way with Tommy. We just hung out and talked about anything but the state of the world.
‘You two are such boys,’ said Lizzy, stopping to look at us as we hunched over Tommy’s Game Boy, surrounded by fun-size packets of stale Cheezels and Twisties.
We grunted in unison. Taylor sighed and left us alone.
‘You got to use the grenade launcher on that dude,’ I said.
Beyond Carousel Page 2
