And some days she would just sit there.
On those days, hours would pass while she looked over the abandoned farm, her unseeing eyes drifting over the enormous sprawl of scrub and pasture gone-to-seed that rolled out in front of her, dipped down into a dried-up creek then gradually rose up into a distant range of hills. Out there, no one cared about her fits of depression or her barely-contained anxiety and panic. Out there, she could pretend that she was alone, that she was safe, that the world was okay.
The sun would climb higher and the light would grow brighter, but she would barely move. Sometimes she would pour another drink or roll another joint. Through necessity, she would occasionally top-up her water bottle or make a snack or go to the toilet. These actions never broke her from her trance, never let the world in, never shook the past. They were performed instinctively – bodily functions that couldn’t be ignored, needs that must be met.
After a while, the sun would pass over the house, the abandoned farm slowly but steadily darkening with shadow, the light gradually changing from hot-white to bright-yellow to burnt-orange to soft-purple. Obeying another instinct, she would unsteadily get to her feet – already half-drunk and a little stoned – and wind through the house before flaking out on an old couch under the back verandah, watching the sun go down over a deep-emerald stretch of thick bush.
Her eyes would be unfocused, her gaze turned inward, fixed on the pain that wouldn’t leave her alone.
On those long nights, Lee and her pain kept each other company. They would sit together and listen to the birds and the frogs, the cicadas and the rain. They would sit together listening to the whisper of leaves rustling in a breeze, to the scratch and skitter of nocturnal animals, to the scrape and shriek of rusting windmills, to the belly laugh of far-off thunder. They would sit together and watch as the sun went down and the stars came out.
Sometimes, Lee couldn’t imagine a life without her pain.
***
One day, Lee was sitting under the front verandah having a cup of tea. This wasn’t one of her bad days, and she wasn’t looking out at the world with unseeing eyes. She was simply taking it easy after a long day of hard work. She hadn’t really thought of her pain at all – she had been too busy hauling water, chopping wood, clearing away tinder-dry scrub. Physical labour was a fundamental part of life in the bush, a necessity that could serve as a distraction, the beautiful monotony of it sometimes driving everything else away.
Lee needed distractions. They helped make life easier.
While she was sitting there enjoying the numb relief that comes after hours of hard work, her little brother turned up unexpectedly. She watched his car crawl up the driveway to the east, thick dust trailing behind it.
“Hey, sis,” her brother said as he swung his lanky frame out of his tiny hatchback. “How’s the PTSD? You still scared of the beasties?”
She didn’t smile, while his came easily. You could have called it a smirk, if the worry in his eyes hadn’t been so apparent. He leaned down and carefully hugged her, making sure that he didn’t hold her too tight and that she didn’t feel trapped in his embrace, making plain his love and concern.
She squirmed free, suddenly panicked, her eyes darting back and forth.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, stepping back, holding up his hands and giving her some room.
She took a few deep breaths and slowly settled down. Her brother patiently waited for her to get it together. “Sorry, Max,” she finally said.
“It’s cool, don’t stress. You okay?”
She straightened her back, looked up and met his eyes. He smiled again, this time a little sadly. “Yeah, I think I so,” she said.
“Good one. Now, how about a drink?” Max asked, getting straight to it. “I’m dying for a cuppa.”
“You know the way, bro,” Lee responded. “I’ll have one while you’re at it.”
She almost laughed at how easily they resumed their roles.
“Right then, your highness,” Max said. “You still like it milky and sweet?”
“Yep, just like your men.”
“Yeah, yeah, very funny. How many times do I have to tell you – I like them rough and tough.”
He smiled a cheeky smile and Lee actually laughed. To Max’s ears, it was the music of the gods, sweeter than birdsong, more beautiful than the crackle of flame and the drip of rain.
“Don’t just there stand, you big galoot,” Lee said. “Shift your arse.”
Max hung his head and slumped his shoulders in an exaggerated motion, expertly playing the part of the chastised little brother. He took a couple of shuffling steps, dragging his feet.
“Get a bloody move on,” Lee said, laughing again.
“It’s good to see that some things don’t change.”
“Dickhead.”
The shack in which Lee hung her hat had actually been their childhood home. Long before they had been born, their parents had built it themselves over many years, taking their time and being fastidious. Lee and Max had loved growing up there, surrounded by as much room to roam and play as a child could want. As teenagers, however, they began to resent it the way many teenagers do, craving crowds and noise and more excitement than the bush could offer.
And then one day, when Lee and Max were still in high school, their parents were killed in a car crash. Lee and Max had no choice but to move to the city, their mother’s brother and his wife their new guardians.
Their empty home sat waiting for them, their only real inheritance. But they never came back – they made new friends in the city and made new lives for themselves. Before they began drifting apart as siblings often do, they made a vow to never go back alone. Their empty home kept waiting, falling further into disrepair with the passing years, but Lee and Max couldn’t ever seem to find the time. In truth, it was too painful.
All that had changed after that terrible day, when Lee needed to hide from the world and Max couldn’t refuse the help she begged of him.
“I like what you’ve done to the place,” Max said, shooting his sister a shit-eating grin.
Despite the fact that a year or more had passed since he had last stepped through the door, it was exactly as he remembered it. Time always seemed slower, out in the bush. Nothing ever really seemed to change.
“Laugh it up, little brother, laugh it up. Just don’t forget to put the kettle on while you’re at it.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the boss.”
“Around here I am. Now, get to it.”
Max threw her a mock salute and began busying himself in the kitchen. Lee took a seat at a rough wooden table that had sat in the same spot for her entire life. She cracked her back and rolled her shoulders. She pulled a pouch of tobacco and a zip-bag of weed from her pocket, then started rolling a joint.
“You still doing that shit?” Max asked, without turning around.
“Yep.”
He didn’t speak. His deep sigh was answer enough.
“Whatever gets you through the night,” Lee said, goading him a little.
He sighed again, but he knew better than to start a fight and so just finished making coffee. He thrust Lee’s cup into her hand and took the seat opposite her. Lee set her cup down as she continued rolling the joint, concentrating and focused, the tip of her tongue slightly sticking out of her mouth. Unable to help himself, Max smiled, wondering how many times in his life he had seen this reflex of hers.
He waited patiently, sipping at his coffee.
Finally, Lee was done. She lit the joint, disregarding Max entirely. He got to his feet, opened the kitchen window then sat back down.
“Yeah, sorry,” Lee said, futilely trying to wave away a cloud of smoke.
“No worries,” Max replied, leaning back in his seat a little, leaning away from her.
Lee noisily slurped at her coffee. She took another long drag on the joint before offering it to Max. He declined, as he always did and as he always had. Lee shrugged.
“More fo
r me, then,” she muttered.
“Like you need more…”
“Watch it, little brother – I don’t tell you how to live your life. And besides, you know what they say about desperate times.”
Max didn’t answer.
“You’re such a prick sometimes. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, sure I do,” Max answered. “But you love me anyway. That’s what little brothers are for, right?”
The tension broke and they laughed together. It was sibling laughter, born of long familiarity, ushering in a feeling of comfort and easy company. They both started to feel like they had only seen each other the week before rather than over a year ago. Lee finished the joint and ground it out then leaned forward in her chair, her elbows on the table, her hands clasped in front of her, staring at Max. He returned her stare, still leaning away from her, his feet up on the table. They smiled at each other, as if they were enjoying a private joke.
It didn’t feel awkward or weird or like they were falling back into old roles.
“So, little brother, how’ve you been?”
“Not bad, but pretty busy.”
“Yeah, I noticed – it’s been a time long between visits.”
Lee couldn’t stop herself from chastising him. She had experienced something that would have left most people a wretched mess, and yet Max hadn’t shown his face since he had helped set her up in their crumbling old home. A visit every day wasn’t what she had wanted or expected, but a little concern, a weekly phone call and the occasional overnight stay would have been appreciated.
She hadn’t even heard from him on her birthday.
Lee shook her head suddenly, as if violently disagreeing with herself. She didn’t want to spoil the joy she felt at his surprise visit; she didn’t want to overlook the happiness that he brought with him; she didn’t want to dwell on what might have been – she couldn’t deny that it was wonderful to see him, and that he made her smile in a way no one else did.
“Sorry, Max. I’ve just missed you, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry, sis.”
He reached across the table, took her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled at him, and saw that he had a tear in the corner of his eye. She broke his gaze before he started crying for real.
“Me too, me too,” Lee said as she snatched her hand back. “Look, let’s not get too mushy, alright? It’s good to see you, bro. Let’s not be sad about what was, okay?
“Yeah, yeah, alright.”
“Okay then. So, you were saying you’ve been busy. Uni working you hard, eh?”
Max leaned forward in his chair. “Has it been that long?”
“What do you mean?”
He whistled low, a cheesy little whistle that Lee knew heralded the arrival of big news.
“I’m not at the university anymore, sis. I haven’t been there for, I don’t know, maybe nine months or so.” His gaze turned inward, just for a second. Lee caught it, but she didn’t question him about it.
“What happened?”
Max grimaced slightly. “Um, that attack on the mountain happened.”
Lee’s eyes were suddenly wide and panicked. She swallowed audibly. Max shut his mouth, waiting for her to calm down.
“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she said after a moment.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. You just surprised me, that’s all.”
“You sure?”
Lee frowned at him, and yet somehow she infused the expression with humour. “Get on with it, you idiot – we haven’t got all bloody day.”
Max laughed softly. “You’re the boss…”
“You bet your arse I am.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to finish this story or what?”
“Okay, okay.”
Siblings. There’s nothing quite like them.
“So, after that attack, the army went on this big recruitment drive. I mean, they were already copping a lot of flak for the way they were handling things, and then those two UBOs showed up at the same time and handed them their collective arse. I guess it was good for something, though – the government finally worked up the nerve to reinstate the draft, and people started volunteering in numbers you wouldn’t believe. It was like that attack on the mountain lit a fire under everyone.”
Max broke off suddenly, realising that Lee was looking at him intently and hanging on every word. She didn’t look bored or impatient with his babble of superfluous background, but fascinated by it instead.
“Lee, you do know what’s been happening, right?”
She smiled at him. “Not really. I found myself a pretty nice rock, little brother. And the reception isn’t very good out here.”
“Surely you’ve heard something, though.”
“Not much. I’m not really one to mingle, if you know what I mean.”
“Fair enough,” Max said, suddenly remembering what she had been through.
“Well, thanks. Please, go on, don’t mind me.”
As always, he couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not. He could never tell, despite the fact that he had known her his whole life.
“Um, okay. So, I ended up getting drafted, and sent off to…”
“You’re a soldier?” Lee asked, butting in. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Don’t worry, sis, I’m no soldier. The uniform doesn’t suit me, though I don’t mind the boys that wear it.”
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”
“Okay. So, as I was saying, I work in the science division now.”
“You what?”
“The science division. To cut a long story short, whenever a UBO shows up, it triggers a ‘seismic disturbance,’ to drop a bit of jargon on you. Tremors, mini-quakes, you know what I mean. My job is to monitor these satellites that we’ve got keeping an eye on things, and go through the data to look for patterns and stuff. We’re trying to figure out how to anticipate them, and then maybe hit them before they surface. That’s the theory, anyway.”
Lee snorted in contempt and all their sibling bonhomie disappeared.
“That’s the theory?” she asked incredulously. “Face it, little brother, we’re fucked.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Get your hand off it, all you’ll do is get more people killed.”
“Lee, we can’t just give up.”
“Sure you can. I have.”
“But we have to do something. We have to try.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
Lee pushed herself away from the table and got to her feet. There was beer in the fridge and whisky in a dusty bottle on the shelf, and she dithered a moment, unsure which to choose.
“You want one?” she asked, settling on the beer and holding up a stubby.
“You bet.”
“No sweat.” She opened two stubbies, passed one over then sat back down. “Here’s to the end of the world,” she said, holding hers in the air.
“Not funny, sis, not funny at all.”
“I reckon it depends on your point of view,” she said without humour.
Max took a long drink. “Lee?” he said after a moment.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“That’s the reason I’m here.”
Lee blanked for a moment.
“My job,” Max said, prodding her.
“Right, right… Hang on, what do you mean?”
“The other day, I saw some weird readings taken around these parts – out in Blackwater, Mt Tarrengower, Big Hill, Carisbrook. They were all over the place, but they were all the same. So I convinced the boss to lend me a car so I could have a look up close, and I wanted to give you a heads-up at the same time.”
“You what?”
“Sis, I think there might be a UBO around here somewhere, living underground.”
“No way. We all know they come from the sea. I mean, that’s just how it is.”
“I don’t think so. Not anymore, anyway.”<
br />
Lee didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, all she could think about were beasts hidden in the bush and living beneath the earth. What would be next? Where else would people be able to run? How much more isolated would they need to be? How much more isolated could they get?
She realised that her home – her rock and her bolt-hole – was actually nothing but another potential target. She didn’t know how she felt about the finality underlining that.
“Are you okay?” Max asked, knowing that she wasn’t.
“We really are fucked, aren’t we?” Lee whispered.
“Probably.”
Almost unconsciously, she began rolling another joint.
***
When it became apparent that Lee was happy to just sit in silence and smoke and drink until she was numb, Max decided to try and distract her by dawdling around the lounge room commenting on knick-knacks, paintings and photographs.
They had both been born in that dusty room and they had both been schooled at the rough wooden table that still dominated the kitchen. The immense supporting column that rose up from the exact centre of the lounge room still bore numerous notches and nicks from when their parents had charted their growth. Photographs of them as children and teenagers still hung on the walls.
Max commented on whatever took his eye and prompted a memory or reminiscence.
He talked aloud for Lee’s benefit, but he didn’t really expect a response – her eyes were blank and she was obviously lost in her head, rocked by the unexpected change to the tiny world she had created in defiance of the real thing. He left her alone with her thoughts, not even questioning her when she rolled yet another joint or cracked yet another beer.
He merely mentioned that it might be nice to watch the sunset from the back verandah, like they did when they were kids. She didn’t reply, but she did follow him outside.
She brought her poison with her.
“Nice night, don’t you reckon?”
Lee didn’t answer Max’s question. He didn’t bristle at that; he knew her too well. And so they just sat next to each other and watched the sun go down over the sprawling national park that stretched to the western horizon. Lee barely saw it, while Max drank it in. He told himself that he would visit more often, as he always did, knowing it was a lie yet somehow still believing it. He looked over the land. He breathed in the twilight air. He heard the frogs start to croak and the crickets start to buzz-burr and the wind begin to moan. For a moment, everything was beautiful and nothing had changed at all.
We Call It Monster Page 10
