FOURTEEN

It was only about three days until Dad reckoned Reg and his mob would arrive at the station. Reg Evans had a team of fellas that traveled round the territory, mustering from station to station. Dad hired them to help us with our muster each year. I wanted to go to Jaben Point to see the fellas. I was pretty sick of being at the station with just a bunch of girls for company, but I knew the fellas would be busy building the yards over there and that was real hot, boring work—lifting fence panels and stuff. I was trying to decide, when the Pommie showed up at the calf pen. She needed help lifting some stuff into the Old Rover to take to the tip. I left Buzz and went to give her a hand.

She’d been clearing out the space under the house, so there was quite a lot of rubbish. Once we had it all loaded into the Old Rover, she asked if I’d got time to help her unload it at the tip. I told her she’d be able to manage on her own—the rubbish wasn’t that heavy. She looked embarrassed then and said quietly, “Danny, I can’t remember the way to the tip—so I need someone to come with me.” I laughed at her and then she smiled at me and said, “I know—I’m useless.”

At the tip, we soon got the bags of rubbish unloaded and thrown into the pit with the other stuff we’d left there over the years. I hadn’t been to the tip since we’d found the birthday card from Jonny, and it made me wonder what else was out there of his. I was having a quick look around and I guess Liz knew what I was up to because she said, “I think it was a bit further down.” When I asked what she meant, she said, “Jonny’s card.” I felt a bit awkward then, like she’d caught me doing something I shouldn’t have been.

Liz was real different to everyone else I knew. Not just because she was a Pommie, or that she was a girl, or because of her weird accent. It wasn’t that she was nosy, or rude, or mean, or anything, but it was to do with how she’d talk about stuff, even if no one else would—like about Jonny.

As we both looked at the bits of rubbish around us, right out of the blue, she said, “Where’s he buried?” Just like that. It sounded like she was asking where we’d left the keys to the ute, or something. I looked at her and said it wasn’t far from the house.

The Pommie was lifting up an old magazine with the toe of her boot to see what was underneath it when she said, “Oh right, so it’s not in a churchyard or a cemetery or anything then?” I shook my head. She thought about that for a minute and then looked up and said she reckoned that seeing as there wasn’t a church anywhere nearby, Mum and Dad had probably decided to bury Jonny at the station, so he was nearer home. I felt sick.

As she stepped over a battered, empty oil drum to get a better look at something on the other side of it, she said, “So do you ever go to see Jonny’s grave—you know, put flowers on it, or anything?” My belly felt like it was about to turn inside out, so I bent over and tried to breathe. The Pommie looked up when I didn’t answer and said, “What’s up? Don’t you feel well?” I couldn’t answer her. She came over to me and rested her hand on my back, like Mum did when we were crook. She asked if I was OK and said I should get in the shade behind the Old Rover. She helped me over to where it was and said I should sit down, so I did.

We were both sat in the dirt with our backs against the Old Rover’s wheel. After a minute or two Liz said she was sorry she hadn’t brought any water with her. I said it was OK—I’d feel better in a minute. That’s when I told her about the funeral. I just came right out with it all, like whatever made her ask all those questions had somehow got into me too.

I explained about how they hired this big black car to carry Jonny’s coffin from the house to the hole in the ground, which Dad had dug. I hated that black car. Jonny would’ve hated it too. I didn’t know why we couldn’t just put the coffin in the back of the ute and drive him there like that—like normal. That’s how Jonny had always ridden round the station. He liked it.

Then there was everyone’s clothes. Dad was wearing a black suit and Mum had on some black trousers. Aunty Ve had a black dress and Sissy was wearing a black skirt. Aunty Ve had brought me some black trousers to wear especially. I hated them. They were hot and itchy and I couldn’t move in them. We looked like we were out of a bad dream or a real old movie, or something. The only thing that wasn’t black was all the flowers. I dunno why, but people kept saying how beautiful they were. They weren’t. They were the ugliest, stupidest flowers I ever saw. Jonny would’ve hated them.

The Pommie listened—so I kept talking. I told her about how at the funeral no one said anything. We all just sat around waiting and being quiet and polite to each other, like we didn’t really know each other, like you do with strangers. I caught Sissy’s eye and we stared at each other for what seemed like ages. It felt like we could read each other’s minds. Her eyes looked kind of empty, which was how I felt—empty and alone. I wanted to scream and shout, but I couldn’t because I knew I had to be invisible.

Then, when it was time, we had to follow the stupid black car, which had Jonny’s coffin inside it, surrounded by those ugly flowers. It made me mad thinking about it. When we got to where the hole in the ground was, we all got out of the cars and that’s when the funeral happened. There was a priest and he said some stuff I didn’t get. We sang some songs I’d never heard before and then they put the coffin into the hole. I hated that bit more than anything else. Mum cried. I’d never seen her cry before. Aunty Veronica cradled her in her arms, like she was a big baby. Dad was stood next to them. He didn’t do anything—just stood and stared. It felt like I didn’t know any of them any more.

After the funeral, when everyone had gone, Dad went out and ripped up the fence post Jonny had fallen on. He was still wearing his suit. I saw him through my bedroom window. He kicked the post with his boot; one way, then the other, then back again, but it wouldn’t budge. The dry ground had swallowed it along with the blood. It was getting dark by the time he gave up and tied a chain around the post so he could yank it out with the ute. Sweat rolled off his face, like tears. Once he’d pulled out the post, he turned the engine off and rested his head on the steering wheel. He seemed to pant real hard. It had been so hot.

I looked at the Pommie then. She was crying. Why do girls always blub at everything? I didn’t want her to cry. “Bloody pack it in, will you?” I shouted at her. She wiped her face with her hand and said, “I can’t help it.” I wasn’t angry with her, just kind of sick of her, and everyone else. I wanted to be somewhere where none of that stuff had happened, where it didn’t matter. I wanted to be with Jonny, I guess. We set off back to the station, but then the Pommie told me to stop. She said she wanted to see Jonny’s grave. I didn’t know what to do. I hated it there, so I dunno why I turned round and started to drive the Old Rover toward where Jonny was buried.

When we got there, the sky was pink and blue from the sun, which had turned bright red. It looked like it was somewhere near the end of the world. The grave was exactly where I knew it would be, but it looked a lot different to the last time I’d seen it. It looked older, like the desert had taken it over again. The stones round the outside were still there, as well as the bigger one, which had Jonny’s name on it. Someone had put some flowers in a little bucket on the mound of dirt. I reckoned it would have been Mum. They’d gone brown.

I guess I’d wanted something to happen—for something to change. But it didn’t. Jonny wasn’t there. I knew he wouldn’t be. He’d gone to heaven long before they’d put that wooden box in the ground—just as well really because if he’d seen the black car and those bloody stupid flowers, I reckon he’d have really kicked off. We didn’t get out of the Old Rover. We just looked at the grave from where we sat. I guess there wasn’t anything to say. After a few minutes I asked the Pommie if she’d seen enough and she nodded, so I started the engine and we drove home.

When we got home, I went to my bedroom and sat on Jonny’s bed for a bit. It wasn’t the same though since the Pommie had tidied everything up. I slipped down onto the floor and wriggled under the bed, where it was dark and smelled dusty. I wondered if that was how it felt to be in a box under the ground.