by Fiona Palmer
IT was midweek, halfway through the first run. Pat Benetar’s ‘All Fired Up’ was blaring from the stereo and CJ was busy grading fleeces. She looked up towards the shearing stands and watched Dave finishing off another sheep. Bugger, couldn’t he have stayed in New Zealand a few extra weeks? She longed to get back on the stand.
They were working at Dale Rogers’ shed and things had been moving along smoothly. His gangly, eighteen-year-old son Reece was keeping the pens full in the shed, while catching a glimpse of the girls on the floor. He’d taken a particular fancy to Kate.
CJ had just rolled up another fleece when she heard Kate yell out her name. Kate stood near Jules and the fleece at his feet was splashed with red. At first she assumed he’d cut the sheep but then she saw that Jules’s face was screwed up with pain. She ran to them, grabbing her long sleeve, which was hanging from a nail on the wall.
Kate shifted the wool away from the blood and pulled Jules’s rope for him, shutting off his handpiece.
‘Give us a look.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Jules bravely.
Kate grimaced and shook her head. ‘It looks bad.’
CJ could barely see Jules’s hand for all the blood and mopped some of it up with her shirt sleeve. ‘Yeah, Jules, you’ve done a corker. It’s deep. You’ll need stitches.’ CJ tightly wrapped her shirt around the wound as best she could while Kate rushed outside to find the farmer.
‘You lookin’ a bit pale there, bro!’ Dave said, patting Jules on the back.
Kate found Dale, who had just finished moving the next mob in. The farmer said he’d run Jules in to the hospital if they were right to keep shearing.
‘There’s a front coming in and I want these done before it hits us,’ he explained.
Dave finished up Jules’s bloodstained sheep and CJ tidied up the floor and got rid of the contaminated wool.
‘Hey, CJ, you wanna get up here and shear?’ Lindsay asked. I’ll use Jules’s gear. Can we get John to class and the young bloke to press?’
They had to keep going, sheep needed to be shorn as they had another shed to get to.
CJ nodded. ‘Great idea.’
She dragged out her first sheep to Steve Earle’s ‘Copperhead Road’ and at the end of the run, she was the only one with a smile.
‘How long do you think Jules will be out of action?’ she asked Lindsay.
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe a week or more. Look at you, the eager beaver. You’d pinch our graves if we weren’t quick enough,’ he said, laughing.
The boss cockie came back just after lunch, reporting that Jules had eight stitches and wouldn’t be working for a while.
‘Unlucky bastard,’ commented Dave.
They moved into the third run of the day and each time CJ went to get another sheep she kept avoiding this big one in the corner that was giving her the eye. She wasn’t a chicken… she was just putting off the inevitable. It was going to give her trouble and she knew it. Finally CJ had to pull the ewe out. It was in a fighting mood. It fought CJ whenever it could, squirming and flailing its legs about, throwing bits of wool everywhere. At one point it kicked out strongly, the ewe’s hoof connecting with CJ’s crutch.
Lindsay had been watching from his stand. ‘God damn,’ he yelled out. ‘That brought tears to my eyes. You okay?’
She nodded as she took a deep breath and grabbed a leg and pulled it back into position, gaining control of her sheep. ‘Yep. Lucky I didn’t have a set of family jewels, hey?’ Finally she got to push the feisty ewe down the chute and walked outside for smoko.
Lindsay came over and rubbed her lower back. ‘How’s it going?’
CJ leaned over and gave him a kiss. ‘Bloody marvellous! I love being back in the saddle. Why couldn’t you have come along a few years earlier? I’d be as good as you by now.’
‘Ah, babe, you’ll never be as good as me.’
CJ jumped up and got him in a headlock and pulled him down on the ground where they wrestled like two schoolboys.
Irene laughed. ‘Cut it out, you two,’ she said as she tried to shield her scone from the dust haze.
Burt looked up from his plateful of stew. ‘He was as bloody welcome as a fart in a phone box, and I told him so.’
‘What’s this?’ said Lindsay as he came back inside from feeding the dogs. He ran his hands down his clean pair of jeans, pulled up the long sleeves of his red shirt and sat down at the table.
‘Burt had a run-in with a doorknocker today,’ explained CJ. Tonight she’d put on a blue cotton dress, just for Burt, who said she looked ‘all snooty’. But she knew he was impressed by the way his eyes twinkled.
‘Don’t people know when they’re not welcome?’ said Burt. ‘Hey, did I tell you I had a call from my brother today? Bugger wants me to go to the city for a family catch-up. Told ’im there ain’t no way I’d be going to the city unless it’s in the meat wagon.’
‘I didn’t know you had a brother, Burt,’ Lindsay said.
Burt scratched his bald, sun-spotted head.
‘Yeah, a younger brother called Ross. He was a city boy from day dot. Hated the farm. Didn’t get on with the old man. Don’t see him a hell of a lot. He knows where I am if he wants to catch up. I don’t have any other family left, bar a few cousins here and there. Rather keep to myself.’
‘We’re your family, hey, Burt?’ said CJ sweetly.
Burt had a grin from ear to ear.
Halfway through the meal CJ’s mobile rang so she jumped up to answer it.
A minute later she came back in to the kitchen. Her face was glowing and she had a smile wide enough to drive a four-wheel drive through.
‘You’ll never guess what!’ she said excitedly.
‘What?’ the men said in unison.
‘Jules got an infection in his wound and he’s gonna be off work for another week or so. Poor Jules, of course… but yay me! Doug said I can work his stand,’ said CJ, trying to contain her delight.
‘Should we bring out the scotch?’ asked Lindsay.
‘Is the Pope a bloody Catholic?’ said Burt seriously.
Burt put his plate in the sink before finding three glasses and putting a nip of scotch in each. Lindsay got the Coke and topped them up.
Burt lifted his glass. ‘To the gutsiest girl I know.’
‘Cheers,’ they all said.
‘Now, who’s up for a game of canasta?’
‘But you always win, Burt. How do you do it?’ CJ groaned.
Burt tapped the side of his head. ‘It’s called old-age cunning. You’ll pick it up in another fifty years.’
28
IT was a welcome Sunday at home and CJ was making the most of it in the garden. It felt good to get some things done around the house. Now that she could shear, she had her weekends back and it was time to restore the garden, which was overrun with weeds. She was leaning over the garden beds, moisture seeping through her jeans. Her hands were black, and dirt was embedded in her short nails.
‘Morning, sweetheart.’
CJ looked up as Dot approached with two cups of coffee in her hands.
‘Hey, Mum. Thanks.’ CJ rested back on her boots and sipped the coffee. There was a little colour to her mum’s skin and a hint of life in her eyes. Tom had been behaving lately and they’d begun to relax, although CJ knew they were just biding their time until the next episode. CJ wasn’t as scared now she had Lindsay. Knowing he was there for her eased the burden.
They finished their drinks and walked around the side of the house, where wild oats and barley grass were wreaking havoc among the old roses and native bottlebrush and wattle trees.
‘Can you pass the trowel please, love?’ said Dot as she came to a prickly weed.
CJ passed it over and looked at her mum closely.
‘What?’ asked Dot as she dug through the soft ground.
‘I was just thinking how nice this is. We haven’t spent time like this together for ages.’
Dot threw the offending wee
d into the mounting pile. ‘I know.’ She smiled, and CJ reckoned her mum dropped ten years from her face.
‘How’s the shearing going?’
‘It’s great, Mum. I really love it. Soon we’ll be able to lash out and maybe get a new TV or something,’ she laughed.
‘I do worry about you. Some of those shearers are rough.’
‘I know, but I can take care of myself. It’s okay, Mum. I’m happy and that’s the main thing.’
‘Yes, you are. You’ve really grown and I’m so proud of you. You do so much. I’m not proud of having my daughter give up her life to protect me and look after her own father. I’m just not as strong as you.’ Dot put her hand on her daughter’s and squeezed it, sniffing back tears. She cleared her throat. ‘So… where is Lindsay today?’
‘Out helping Burt, and next week Doug’s put him in another team out the back of Whoop-Whoop so the crew is camping. I’ll miss working with him. A whole week apart is going to kill me.’ Sam came over and nuzzled his nose into CJ’s arm, almost as if he was saying he’d miss Lindsay too.
‘I need some new clothes,’ Dot said. ‘Do you wanna come shopping with me one Saturday and help me pick out a few things?’
‘Yeah, that sounds great.’ CJ couldn’t remember the last time her mother had thought about buying a new outfit.
‘I like Lindsay a lot. He’s great for you. Your two are very serious, aren’t you?’ Dot’s eyes showed that she already knew the answer.
CJ nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, I love him. I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else. He’s definitely the one.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ Dot looked happy for CJ, but there was also a trace of sadness.
CJ couldn’t find the words to tell her mum that she wouldn’t leave her with dad. One thing was certain – CJ would never abandon her mum.
29
THE minivan rolled along the gravel in the afternoon light. A cold carton of Emu Export sat in the middle of the bus for the trip home. Lindsay sat behind Marty, who was taking his turn at driving. Lindsay rested his head on the seat, his arm stretched out along the window. He took a sip of his beer, his mind miles away. It had been such a long week and he’d missed CJ so much. He was dying to get home and hold her. A week away from her, shearing at some out of the way shed, had just about done his head in. Thank God it hadn’t stretched out to two weeks. Another hour and he’d be home and holding her again.
This week had really brought home how much she meant to him. They’d talked on the phone every night but it just wasn’t the same. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, of that he was damn sure. They hadn’t been together long but it had been the best few months of his life, and he didn’t need another six months to know he wanted her forever. He knew she felt the same.
‘Roo!’ someone shouted from the back of the minivan. Then he heard Dave swear and the van begin to shift.
Lindsay lurched to the right, then left. Everything was a blur. Beer was flying through the air, and his water bottle hit his face, along with someone’s backpack. Voices shouted and sounds of spraying gravel echoed in the background. It was all happening so fast, yet it seemed to be in slow motion. Then there was a horrible metal-crunching sound and he was thrown hard into the side of the van. Pain flooded through him, followed by the strong smell of eucalyptus. He welcomed the blackness as it started to creep over him, dulling the pain. In the afternoon light he caught a glimpse of bark, glass and bent metal. He could hear groans from behind him, and people beginning to talk, but it was the scent of blood he noticed the most before his eyes closed and his mind went blank.
‘I made a cheesecake for dessert,’ Irene said. ‘Who’s up for some?’
CJ laughed. ‘When have we ever said no to dessert?’
The phone rang and Paul answered it.
‘Oh, Dot. Yeah, she’s here. What! Oh my God. We’ll be there right away.’ Paul hung up the phone and all eyes were on him. Irene was standing with the fridge door open and the cheesecake in her hand. ‘We gotta go to the hospital. There’s been an accident.’
‘Lindsay!’ said CJ. She felt her face falling, like wax melting near an open flame. She just knew, in that moment, that it was him. He was already late to meet her. She jumped up and ran to Paul on wobbly legs. ‘What’s happened?’ she pleaded.
Paul guided CJ to the door and grabbed his keys as he went. ‘I don’t know. Your mum said he’d been in a car accident and that we should get to the hospital. Come on, Irene.’
In no time they were pulling into the old Lake Moore hospital. CJ couldn’t even remember getting into the car. Everything was so hazy. She just couldn’t lose Lindsay now.
As she got out of the car she saw her mum standing by the main entrance under the night lights. The ambulance was parked in the emergency bay, lights still on.
‘Mum…’ CJ gulped, swallowing the hard lump that was rising in her throat.
Dot took CJ’s hands and started to explain slowly. ‘They were coming home in the minibus and Marty swerved to dodge a roo, lost control and they hit a tree.’
CJ’s hands covered her face, pain etched into her features. Irene and Paul both put their arms around her protectively and rubbed her back.
‘Apparently he has cuts to his face and body from the glass but the main concern is his right arm. It sounds like it’s shattered, and he’s got a few broken ribs also. He’s the worst off of anyone, but he’s alive, sweetheart, and he’s stable. They’re waiting for the Flying Doctor to pick him up; he needs surgery and they can’t do any more for him here.’
CJ dragged her hands down her face, as if that could wipe away the nightmare she was sure she was having. This just couldn’t be happening.
She let them guide her inside to the waiting room and her mum started to make everyone a cuppa. They all sat there quietly. CJ stared at the light-blue walls and tried not to look at the clock as it ticked over each minute. She tried not to jump every time someone walked past, in the hope it was a nurse or doctor with some news. Someone finally did walk in, but it was just Tyson, one of the shearers, with his wife, Louise.
‘CJ, have you heard anything about Lindsay yet?’ he asked, holding the bandage that was wrapped around his head.
She shook her head. ‘Not recently. Are you okay?’
‘Yep, I got off lightly. Just a few cuts and bruises, but Lindsay’s arm was so messed up. We were lucky that farmer came along when he did and got the ambulance. It just happened so quickly. One minute we were driving along having a few laughs and the next we were slammed up against a tree. Lindsay was so lucky. It could’ve been so much worse for him and Marty.’
‘Thanks, Ty. You take care,’ she mumbled, but felt a million miles away. She was trying to imagine the crash. Lindsay all beat up, in pain. She was struggling for breath, her lungs were so tight. ‘I’m gonna get some fresh air,’ she told the others before running outside. She’d taken three huge gulps of air when she heard her name called. Out of the darkness she saw Doug approaching. He reached her and hugged her tightly.
‘Do you know anything yet?’ he asked.
‘He’s got broken ribs and a shattered arm, but he’s stable.’
‘CJ, Doug, there’s a nurse here,’ said Irene, popping her head out the door.
Inside they met Michelle, a tall nurse with big, kind eyes and years of experience with sensitive issues.
‘What can you tell us?’ Dot asked.
‘Lindsay will be fine, but he’ll need a long recovery. They’re flying him to Perth in about fifteen minutes. There’s room for someone to go with him.’
‘Me,’ CJ said quickly.
Michelle continued. ‘He’s going into surgery when he gets there. Lindsay has what we call a comminuted fracture – it’s broken into many pieces. The fragments will find it hard to stay together on their own, so it needs pins to keep everything together until the bone heals. Everything else is superficial and will heal in time. But there’s nothing you can do for the moment, so you may as w
ell go home and get some rest. CJ, you might want to pack some things?’
‘I’ll go pack you a bag,’ said Irene, and CJ handed over her key.
Michelle touched her shoulder gently. ‘He’s been asking for you. I can take you for a quick visit before they sedate him further for his trip.’
She followed Michelle down the old hospital corridor, the boards creaking underneath the plain carpet squares with each step.
‘He’s just in there. I’ll come get you in a minute.’
‘Thanks, Michelle.’
CJ took a deep breath and walked into the room. Seeing Lindsay like that was a shock. She had to touch him, see for herself that he was alive. She sank down against the bed and caressed his left cheek. His perfect face was littered with angry gashes and small sticking plasters. She glimpsed his right arm, which turned her stomach – lumps and bumps under the skin that looked wrong and very out of place. She closed her eyes, imagining his beautiful blue eyes as the tears welled up in her own. She couldn’t contain them any longer. They fell fast and heavy as she looked at her man all banged up in the hospital bed, still in his bloodied clothes. He turned his head towards her, but his lids remained closed.
‘Ah, babes, don’t cry. I’m okay. They’ve got me in a good place right now,’ he said, trying to smile in his groggy state.
CJ wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. ‘I’m so sorry… It was just a shock. I hate seeing you like this. I love you.’ She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. ‘So you know they’re flying you to Perth?’
‘Yep, but I just had to see you first… just in case. It’s been a long week, CJ, and I’ve missed you,’ said Lindsay, squeezing her hand weakly. ‘You’re my everything. I love you.’ His words were starting to slur.
Michelle reappeared and injected him, ready for his transfer to the plane. He closed his eyes and CJ stayed close, holding his good hand tightly and watching his chest rise and fall as he slept.
‘Time to go, CJ. We’re going to put him in the ambulance, okay?’ said Michelle quietly.
CJ stroked Lindsay’s hand and kissed him goodbye. ‘Don’t worry. I’m coming with you, babe.’
