Alicia leaned back from the computer and let out a satisfied sigh. The last of the integrated weed management plans on her list was successfully completed. Once, finishing assignments would have been a cause for full-scale dancing; now she could only manage a tiny smile. This new job was exactly what she hoped it would be. The problem was with all her other life plans. They were the stuff of nightmares.
The bell over the door tinkled and she looked up to greet the next customer. Her cheeks went lax and any hint of a smile disappeared. ‘Dad?’ she whispered. It couldn’t be.
‘Spraying. Need five drums Roundup.’ His voice made the vision real. She saved her file and jumped to her feet, moving quickly to the counter. Everything else could wait. Dad was visiting her shop for the first time.
Words had never been his strength. Over the last few months, he’d spoken even less—to her anyway—and that hardly seemed possible. His presence had her reeling, not that she’d let him see.
She’d been back in town a couple of months after four years living on campus doing an agriculture degree in Wagga Wagga, three hours’ drive away. The time away had made her forget how much she clashed with her folks. Alicia coming home to take up the position of Agronomist/Business Manager at the new Dulili Ag Store was the first major argument. Too bad it was her childhood dream coming true. They ignored that. That battle was before Christmas. Now, in February, the dispute wasn’t resolved. She’d taken the position, of course, and hadn’t seen her parents in weeks.
Now he was here. ‘Hey, Dad. How are you?’ She gave him a big smile, because heaven knows he wasn’t going to let her close enough for a hug or a kiss. She’d upset him and he wasn’t about to forgive her yet. She wasn’t sure he ever would. Her folks wanted her to have ‘a better life’, a corporate life like a rural adviser in banking or something but being stuck in an office all day, wearing heels and a suit, was not her dream. They’d always argued. Mum and Dad thought they knew best for their only child but it was her life and she wanted to lead it her way.
‘How’s spraying going?’ If she kept asking questions, he might give her an answer but she wasn’t holding her breath. After the fight she’d moved into town and had only been back to Bullock Hill for Christmas and New Year’s lunch. No one would call those pleasant affairs. The atmosphere was harsher than Mum’s charcoaled turkey.
Dad’s face was harder than usual, and that was another thing she hadn’t thought could get any worse. The lines, ingrained with dirt and oil, were deeper and more pronounced than they had been.
She set up his account and rang up the chemical, keeping up banal weather chatter that he ignored. Then she came around to the front of the counter and he took a step backwards as if she was getting too close for his comfort.
Trying not to let his movement bother her, she put on her brightest voice. ‘The chemical’s out back. Is your ute in the street out there?’ He nodded and glared like she’d asked something incredibly stupid. But he’d come in the front door, so how was she to know where he’d parked?
They walked out back so she could open the yard gates and he could drive in to pick up the drums. Each of the five drums had to be heaved and carried over to the back of his ute. They weren’t light. It was twenty litres of chemical in a thick plastic container with a thick plastic handle that ate into her hand and rubbed against the raw blisters that hadn’t yet formed calluses. She bent her knees and lifted properly but, jeepers, that yard man couldn’t come quickly enough.
She was on her own in the shop but a new employee was starting next week. It would be much easier when there was a yard man. She’d opened two weeks ago, expecting farmers would only be after advice this early in the season but after a heap of summer rain freshened up the weeds, chemical was more important than advice—and buying it locally saved them close on two hours for the round trip into Orange. Business was booming but her back was aching from shifting the huge drums of weedkiller.
Lugging everything was doing her body in. And she claimed to be fit. Dulili didn’t have a gym but she ran regularly. Plus, the two weeks over Christmas when she’d cleaned, painted and stocked the shop had been their own workout. She’d been sure she could manage the lifting but every night as she lay in bed not only did her heart ache but every other muscle in her body did too. That was another thing they’d argued about—that the job was too tough for her. There was no way she’d ask Dad for his help, she’d bust her shoulder before that. Other blokes she might have asked for a hand but not him. She wasn’t going to prove his point.
‘How’s Mum?’ She tried not to gasp as she lugged the fifth drum over and stacked it on top of one of the others.
‘Fine.’ He breathed a huff that said so many words in itself. Words like, ‘you’d know that if you lived at home,’ or ‘you’d know that if you didn’t want to take on a man’s job.’
He had no right to huff like that. If it was her choice she’d be living at Bullock Hill. After all the work she and Paul had put into her grandparents’ old house, she should be living there. But during the fight, her parents had claimed they’d donated the house to the town’s dollar housing scheme. She hoped it was just a threat, another way to try to force her to do what they wanted. Since she hadn’t heard that anyone had yet been allocated the property, she was pretty sure that was the case. If they thought taking her home away would make her change her mind about staying in Dulili, then they had to think again. She lived above the shop now, and planned to stay there until her parents relented.
Working at the Ag Store wasn’t a man’s job. It wasn’t any different to working on the farm like Mum did, like she’d done in the past. Her Dad should know that.
She stretched. Then stared right at his face. ‘I’m here now, Dad, and I’m not moving.’ He didn’t meet her gaze.
His gruff snort was the only response, so she changed the subject from the personal to the agricultural. ‘They found Roundup-resistant ryegrass not too far from home, you know?’ When she looked up at him, his glare almost cut her in half. Well, that wasn’t the right thing to say. She thought he’d be interested. Obviously not, so she bit her tongue instead of saying more.
She dropped the tailgate, lifted each of the five drums and plonked them on the tray. Then she pushed each drum to the front so they wouldn’t slide around too much. Her shoulders throbbed with every stretch.
‘Nothing wrong with it.’ He stabbed his finger at the last drum she pushed forwards.
‘I’m not saying anything’s wrong with using the chemical, Dad. All I’m saying is that there were resistant plants found near you. Maybe you should check to see if you have a good kill and test any plants that don’t die after you spray.’
Another snort told her he wouldn’t do a damn thing. Stubborn bugger. She was only looking out for him.
‘I’ll come out and check for you. Just tell me when and where you spray and I’ll check in a couple of weeks.’ She closed up the back of the ute.
He grunted. ‘Don’t bother.’ He walked to the driver’s door and opened it. He looked back, eyebrow cocked as if he’d asked her a question. He hadn’t, so she didn’t reply. He got in.
‘See you, Dad. Say hi to Mum for me.’ She waved to him, glad her voice was still bright and cheery. The ute started and he drove away. There was a prickle in the back of her eyes but it was just the dust. She rubbed at them with the back of her hands and headed into the shop.
Damn parents. Why’d they want to push her around now, when she was struggling to get through each day without Paul? He’d always been a buffer between her and her folks. Her best friend and partner. Why they’d think that because her fiancé had been killed she’d be willing to change her life’s plans, she had no idea. She wasn’t changing anything. All she had left were their dreams and plans; living in Dulili, opening the Ag Store, and bringing hope back to the town. The store got her through each day.
But she missed Paul. She missed his ideas, his laughter, and his presence in the world. Sure they hadn’t spent much time in the same country over the last four years but they always knew where the other was. They had mobile phones and computers and were always in touch—so long as you remained alive, you could keep in touch. Paul hadn’t managed to do that, despite promising he would.
The first few months were the worst. Alicia wasn’t sure she could go on living without him but she had to sit exams, finish uni, get her degree. She did it all one day at a time. Not thinking of the future. When she had to go somewhere, she came back to Dulili and opened the shop. That had always been her dream and it was helping her cope.
***
At 7.30 am on Monday morning, Lachlan arrived at the Dulili Ag Store ready to start his new job. It took him about ten minutes, even in the drizzle, to drive to town from the farmhouse he was renting for a dollar a week. The town committee had offered him a twelve-month lease, but he had only signed up for three months. Although he had savings, and was considering buying a property out here, he wanted to see if he was suited to a small town before he made an investment. So far he was glad of that decision. He’d arrived on Saturday to check out where he’d be living and the surrounding area. It took him five minutes to check out the town—and he was on foot. The main street had more empty shops than occupied ones and their peeling paint made them all look neglected. The pub and a café were the only places on the main street that looked like they ever opened. Even most of the dozen or so houses around town looked like they weren’t lived in, except for one block where the houses had a bit of life. They said the dollar scheme was to help rejuvenate the town: it seemed a hare-brained idea that had little chance of working because the place was well on its way to death. At least the farmhouse he’d been allocated was in better condition than a lot of places he’d lived, so that was a plus.
He was here because the Ag Store had offered him a job after a phone interview. It had been an unexpected bonus after being successful with the farmhouse application. He’d not worked in retail before but it sounded like he’d be shifting stuff in the yard and he’d done plenty of that sort of work. If he hadn’t got this job, he’d have just hunted around for odd jobs in the town. He was pretty keen to try a retail job but when he’d checked the place out, it was as rundown as the rest of the buildings but today there was a new-looking mat at the door so at least someone was trying.
A loud buzzer filled the silence when he opened the door. He cringed for a second before taking in his surroundings, looking around in surprise. The shop was welcoming. Newly painted, it looked and smelled clean but it was jammed packed full of stuff. So much, he couldn’t make head or tail of what was in there. Clothes and boots fought for space with hoses and vegetable seeds, ropes and chain competed with toilet paper and paint brushes. It looked like he’d have a full time job working out what all the stuff was, and putting it in some order. But who would use all this stuff? A smile came to his face when a woman about his age approached with a smile. ‘G’day,’ he said, ‘Lachlan Muirhead, here for work.’
‘Alicia Pearce. I’m glad you could start.’ She sounded just a little bit hesitant and that made him feel a whole lot better for being nervous himself.
He took her outstretched hand and gave it a pump and a bit of a squeeze but she winced, and he realised he’d hurt her.
‘I’m sorry. Are you okay?’ Horrified that he might have injured her, he grasped her wrist and held her hand gently. The scarlet creeping up her face made him worry even more. He’d never worked for a woman before and wasn’t sure what he should be doing. He turned her hand and her palm was a red mess. How on earth had she managed that?
‘It’s just some blisters. It’s not your fault.’ She pulled her palm from his grasp before gingerly tucking her hand into her jeans pocket with another wince and a little shudder.
She was a couple of inches shorter than his six foot, slim and athletic, with hair more blonde than brown, and eyes more brown than green. Her hair was tied back and the ponytail fell past her shoulders. Freckles were dusted across her nose and they made her seem too young to be running the place. And much too young for the dark circles and gaunt cheekbones that marred her pretty face.
‘Welcome.’ She ushered him in behind the wooden desk that kept the customers out of the office area. ‘No one’s going to come in this early on a wet day, so I’ll show you around.’ Her smile came, although he felt she had to force it there.
She pointed out a desk that would be his, then showed him to the small kitchen area where he could leave his lunch, make coffee, eat and hide from customers if needed. A smile punctuated a lot of Alicia’s sentences but it was never a truly happy grin. She looked sad, worn down, and he expected Dulili had caused that. How could you not feel sad in a dying town?
Showing him around the shop, she gave him a rundown on the way it worked. Shelves were filled with all manner of … stuff. There didn’t seem to be anything that wasn’t crammed into a little nook here or a cranny there. It was like an overstocked hardware store had gone crazy with a clothes shop. There were racks of coats and shirts, shelves of boots and jeans, poles with reels of rope, twine and chain. In a corner tins of paint were piled on top of one another. From a rope hanging from the ceiling hung paint brushes of various sizes. Lots of tubes and joiners and hose fittings were in small containers hanging off the wall. Coils of hoses were shoved in underneath. Books were scattered across the counter. A tall spinning rack held hats, sunglasses, scarves and shoelaces. Business cards were spilling out of another rack on the counter.
‘Wow. There’s a huge amount of … stock in here.’ He hoped he didn’t sound as daunted as he was feeling. And he hoped she hadn’t picked up on his hesitation. He’d almost called it ‘stuff’ but realised it probably wasn’t right to use that word.
‘Small towns need to have all sorts of things. It keeps the locals shopping locally. If people ask for something we don’t have, we try to order it in.’
‘Right.’ He’d worked all around the Northern Territory but never in retail. And he wasn’t one to poke his head in shops without needing something, so he’d never seen a shop jammed full like this. It made his head swim. Would he ever be able to find anything if he needed to?
She led him out the back of the shop through a door. He took the chance to check her out. Her jeans fit snugly to her backside, her T-shirt skimmed her upper body. She had more angles than curves and looked like she’d never shirk a day’s work.
When they were outside, his mouth dropped open. A large yard at least twice as big as the shop with a huge shed the size of the shop were filled with more stuff—boxes, bags and drums, pallets and piles, stuff as far as he could see. He had no idea what any of this stuff was. There was a forklift. He had a licence for that and was familiar with at least something out here. Nothing was piled too high. He could see out over everything to a large double gate that was closed. There was a clear driveway marked in white paint that ran from the back gate and forked off to either end of the shed. One end of the shed had a huge stack of bales of hay—he was pleased to recognise something else—but the other end was filled with drums and boxes that seemed to be fenced off with mesh wire. A tin fence ran around the outside boundary. This yard area must run down the length of the entire block. The Ag Store would easily be the biggest business in the town.
‘This will be your domain. I haven’t been able to keep the yard gates open with only me but if you’re here too, I think we can open them and farmers can drive right in, rather than having to come into the shop first then wait for me to open the gates. That will make them happier.’
He nodded, hoping he didn’t look as overwhelmed at he felt. He didn’t have a clue what any of this was, let alone what it was used for. It could be a garbage pile as far as he understood.
Taking a deep breath, he followed as she showed him around and began to explain how this part of the business ran. ‘All the bulk farm stuff is out here. So farmers drive in to pick up their order. Oh, and if someone comes into the shop while we’re out back, a buzzer rings and I’ll have to dash.’
He nodded again. So many questions screamed through his head that he couldn’t work out which he should be asking first. As he listened to her, he worked out that there seemed to be an order to the chaos. As far as he could tell from what she said, things were grouped together according to use and time needed. She seemed to have the place organised. He wondered if that was where her blisters had come from.
They walked into the fenced off section of the shed and she waved at the white plastic drums, each stack with different coloured labels.
‘I’ve mostly been selling chemical lately. So I’ve arranged all the fallow and pre-emergent chemicals up the front. Post-emergents we won’t need for a while, so they’re at the back.’
He had no idea what she was saying. He waved his hand to attract her attention but she kept speaking and speaking, words he had no idea about.
Finally, she glanced at him, no doubt finding complete confusion rushing across his face. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Whoa. I’ve no idea about anything you just said.’ He paused and softly hit his thigh. He shouldn’t be here. He rubbed his hand across his forehead and into his hair, lifting his hat as he did so. It was a nervous reaction and he’d tried to school himself out of doing it but today, every nervous tic he had was out. He was in a job so far out of his reach, in a town so tiny he couldn’t hide. ‘I’m not a farmer. I thought that was pretty clear from my application. It sounds like you need a farmer here.’
She looked instantly apologetic. Her freckles stood out as a pink colour rose across her cheeks. She was still pretty even when flustered. ‘No. Sorry. No.’ She took a breath. ‘I don’t need a farmer. I need someone to lift and move and drive the forklift. The rest is me not thinking.’
While he stared at her, not sure she was right, she looked around the shed and all the products. She ran her fingers through the length of her ponytail a few times before flinging it back over her shoulder and nodding her chin to him. ‘Right. It’s much easier than I said before. People buy chemical this time of year. That’s here, at the front.’ She hit her palm against a white drum that had a label with a green and browny-orange half-moon on it. ‘Later on, we’ll rearrange the shed to make sure the stuff you’ll need is easy to get at.’ She gave him a tentative smile.
‘Sounds better.’ He grinned when the tight way she held her shoulders lessened just a tad. She looked as nervous as he was. Maybe she hadn’t worked with anyone before. The guy he’d spoken to in the phone interview said the business was new and that she’d just opened it. Maybe she was just starting out and nervous too. She hid it well if she was. He wondered if he’d hidden his fears too.
‘You really like the mumbo-jumbo, don’t you?’ Lachlan made sure he tacked a big grin on so she couldn’t take offence to his words. Well, she probably could be offended but he didn’t think she would be. There was something down-to-earth about her, for all her big words.
She blushed again and this time the dark circles under her eyes took on a heavier look, like she’d been under a lot of pressure for some time. She twisted her lips in a bit of a grimace before she said, ‘I don’t want to be like that. I want to be understood.’
‘So you don’t mind me stopping you when you run on with it?’ He softened his words with another grin. She seemed to respond, tipping her head towards him and smiling back.
‘I don’t mind at all. I didn’t know I was doing it.’ She sounded embarrassed and rubbed her hands along her arms. ‘I don’t want to talk all mumbo-jumbo.’
‘I guess the farmers must understand what you’re talking about, though?’ For a moment he felt guilty that he’d made her feel bad. He didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot.
She scowled. ‘Dad told me I’ve got too big for my boots, so no, I don’t think they do understand me.’
‘Your dad a farmer?’
She nodded and opened her mouth to reply but the shop buzzer sounded. She rushed off to serve a customer before he could blink. He wasn’t sure if he should follow her in or poke around out here but thought the best thing would be to follow her inside. It mightn’t be so daunting if he could watch a sale happening.
Alicia was patient and, for the rest of the day, they served customers and, when free, she explained more of the shop and his role. When she told him the basics it wasn’t too difficult to understand but sometimes she got carried away and lost him. Luckily she didn’t mind him pulling her up each time he got lost. She explained things he didn’t know, and sometimes he could tell she was struggling to find a way to explain it that was simple enough for him to understand. Farming had this whole other language he didn’t know.
The good thing was that she was easy to be around. When five o’clock came, he was surprised how painlessly he’d survived the first day.
‘Do you feel like a beer after work?’ Alicia looked over at him but he’d frozen mid-stride.
He wasn’t sure how to respond. Was this something he had to do every day? Or was it more a first day thing? Or was it a date? He figured he should start out how he meant to live here—honest, straightforward, and true to himself.
‘I don’t drink.’ He said it a little too forcefully but he couldn’t take it back. Besides, he didn’t drink and he wasn’t going to be subjected to peer pressure, or employer pressure, or anything else to make him change his mind. He couldn’t afford to drink, not a drop.
With a tiny smile and a nod of acknowledgment, she asked, ‘A soft drink at the pub, then?’ Her voice was light, as if his prickly reaction hadn’t bothered her. He was glad about that as he had no intention to upset her.
He shrugged. ‘If you want.’ He was happy that she wasn’t forcing alcohol on him but still uncomfortable about what sort of an invitation he was accepting. He wasn’t going to date his boss. Surely she wasn’t asking for that; she’d only just met him. It was probably an after-work drink, a day one thing, like the blokes in the Territory would do. Except the offer coming from a woman made it confusing.
‘In a small town, often the pub’s the only place open this time of day. It’s kind of the local meeting place. You don’t need to drink but there’s nowhere else to go. Everyone goes there at some stage or other, and I thought you might want to meet a few of the locals.’ Her explanation made him feel less awkward.
‘Thanks.’ He gave her a nod and a bit of a smile as he passed through the doorway before she locked up behind them.
‘Pub’s just up the block.’ Her words made him muffle a laugh. Did she think he wouldn’t have noticed the largest building in the whole town? ‘I guess you can’t really miss the pub in a town this small.’ She made a sweep with her hand gesturing at High Street, Dulili’s main street, and the couple of streets that crossed it.
‘It is small. I didn’t expect it to be so tiny.’ The town only had about twenty buildings including the houses. He thought towns in New South Wales would be a decent size. He supposed they weren’t as spread out as those in the Territory, and maybe that’s how there could be pokey little places like this. How a town could survive with next to no one and next to nothing was beyond him.
‘You haven’t lived in small towns before?’ She didn’t sound disappointed, exactly, more curious.
He laughed, not with much amusement, it was more a scoff. ‘I didn’t know towns this small even existed.’
Alicia missed a step and Lachlan realised he’d put his foot in it. She’d probably been born here and didn’t know any different. The three and a bit shops were probably enough for her. He lifted his hat and scratched his head. What was his problem with the town? He didn’t shop. He didn’t like crowds. He was avoiding the Territory. It should be perfect but there was just something so dismal about the place.
They were opening the pub door when Alicia asked, ‘What will you have?’ His reply wasn’t quick enough and they were at the bar before they’d taken two steps. That’s what he didn’t like about the place … it was small. He was used to the vast open spaces of the Territory where even the roads were wide and open. This place had trees everywhere, and it felt crowded, even in a dying village.
The barman waved. ‘Alicia Pearce, so damn good to see you in here.’ The way he greeted her, Lachlan knew she was popular. The barman was friendly, happy to see her but surprised she was here just the same. Lachlan was pleased she wasn’t one to frequent the pub too often.
‘Good to see you too, Johno.’ She gave a smile to the barman but it wasn’t a really happy smile either. So it wasn’t just him receiving those smiles.
Alicia turned to Lachlan and pointed at his chest. ‘This is Lachlan Muirhead, the new yard man at the shop.’ Then she waved to the barman. ‘Lachlan, this is Johno, best bloke you could know.’
Lachlan reached across the wooden bar and shook hands with Johno. The first thing the guy said was, ‘You’re one of the dollar blokes, aren’t you?’
Lachlan nodded. He wasn’t sure how to take being called a ‘dollar bloke’ but Johno had said it in a friendly kind of manner. ‘Is that what we’re known as?’ he asked with a chuckle, trying to mask the prickle of discomfort.
Alicia answered quickly, ‘It’s not the best name but we’ve been calling you guys that long before we knew who you were. It’s kind of stuck. Sorry.’
Before Lachlan could respond, Johno pulled up two glasses and popped them on the bar. ‘It’s good to see some new faces in town. We need new people. What’ll you have? It’s on me.’
Once they got their soft drinks and chatted to Johno, Alicia led him to the corner of the pub where it was quiet and near an air conditioning duct. She must have needed some cool air. Even with the rain, it had been a bit warm but it was summer and he was used to much hotter days than this.
‘Cheers.’ Lifting her schooner against his, she tilted it until their glasses chinked. ‘Where were you before you came to town?’
‘Up north. In the Territory.’ He lifted his chin as he said it. He hated small talk but he really should try to get to know her if he was working with her. Plus, he had to know the town before he could decide if he was staying or going.
‘Have you always lived in the Northern Territory?’
‘Yep. This is my first time out of it.’
‘What’s it like up there?’
‘Hot and steamy this time of year, with buckets of rain.’
‘Oh, right. So this isn’t all that hot?’ She laughed and looked up at the air conditioner as if regretting her choice of seat.
He gave her a grin. He didn’t want to answer and make her feel worse. But it wasn’t all that hot, and there was next to no humidity. It was pleasant really.
Alicia didn’t seem to be giving up twenty questions yet. ‘What made you come here? It’s a big move.’
‘It’s cheap.’ He grinned to soften what he knew was close to a rude answer. But was he supposed to tell her all his secrets on the first day? It was the dollar scheme that attracted him to Dulili. The Ag Store job was the bonus that landed him here and nowhere else. He had some savings but he wasn’t going to buy a place unless he intended on staying. The dollar scheme was the perfect way to check the place out before he made any commitments. It sounded rather greedy, so he wasn’t going to say that out loud.
Alicia didn’t let his answer put her off. She tipped her head to the side after placing her drink back on the table and looked beyond him. ‘Yeah. It has to be cheap to get people to come here. Dulili is dead if we can’t stop the tide of evacuees.’
He thought the place was pretty close to dead now but wasn’t going to voice that either. So he detoured a little. ‘You had a job going, so the town can’t be dead yet.’
‘It’s a new business. Another way of livening up the place. If it didn’t have the backing of Mike from the Orange and Bathurst stores, it wouldn’t exist.’ After a brief pause, Lachlan remembered that Mike was the guy who had interviewed him over the phone.
She followed with another question. ‘So where are you living?’
Lachlan waved his arm in the direction of where he was staying. ‘About fifteen clicks out. Must be some relation of yours, they’re Pearce too. Property’s called Bullock Hill.’
The sudden pain in her eyes made his stomach lurch, and had him moving towards her. She was trying to hold herself together, he could tell by her long, slow breaths that quickly became short and sharp. The white sheen of her face became paler with each inhalation. Her hand shook her glass even as she tried to steady it on the arm of the chair.
‘Are you okay?’ Lachlan leaned close and touched her forearm lightly, briefly wondering if she’d swallowed ice and he’d have to do the Heimlich.
She nodded, shook her head, nodded again. She sucked in a gulp of air before she got her glass half onto the table. Her eyes glistened but he wasn’t sure if she fought tears or it was the light. There was definitely something wrong with her, and it wasn’t swallowing ice.
‘So, ummm, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Her voice was scratchy and hardly above a whisper. Her face had become too calm as if she’d schooled a mask to hide whatever she was feeling. He’d said something that caused this reaction. About where he lived or who owned the place. He wished he knew what it was but it wasn’t his place to ask.
Then she was rushing from the pub. Not quite running but not much slower. A great end to the first day in his new job—sending his employer racing away because of his big mouth. He knew enough about secrets to know he’d landed on one in Dulili. He just had to be careful not to land on it again.