TWENTY-TWO

An hour or so after Sissy had left, Dad finished what he was doing with the generator, wiped his hands on his trousers, and walked toward the house. He stuck his head just inside the door and shouted to Mum, to let her know he was going to Warlawurru to see Mick. The fly screen twanged on its hinges like a rubber band when he let go of it. Mum came out and said he should just leave it. Dad looked at her and said he had to go and see them. Mum put her arm round him and said, “Let the dust settle, Derek. Let’s just leave it until after we’ve finished the muster. Please. Sissy’s not here, so let’s just leave it for now.” Dad looked like he’d been stung when Mum said about Sissy not being at the station. He stood still for a minute, rubbed his face with his hands, and thought about it. His eyes looked red when he nodded his head and said he was going to go to Wild Ridge to see the fellas and get the muster underway over there. Mum looked relieved and worried at the same time. She kissed his cheek. Dad got into his ute and it threw a dirty streak into the air as he left the station. Mum watched him go and then went inside.

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When Mum and Dad gave me a list of chores—my punishment for running away—I couldn’t believe how much I had to do. I’d hoped with Sissy leaving the station and everyone being so busy with the muster, they’d have forgotten about it, but it was like the opposite had happened. I reckoned they’d used the time to think of as many jobs as they could. When I saw the list, I shouted, “It’s not fair!” I hadn’t meant to, it just came out of my mouth without me thinking.

Dad held his finger up and said, “Don’t. You. Dare.” I kept quiet then and listened. I knew if I started blubbing or complaining I’d be in even more trouble. Dad reckoned there was nothing worse than a whinger. They went through the list with me. Dad said the sooner all the chores were done, the sooner I could stay out at stock camp with him and the fellas. But he said he’d be checking and if I didn’t do the chores properly, he’d give me more to do. That’s when Mum said I had to do them after school, which made me wonder when I’d get time to train Buzz. Dad said, “You should have thought about that before you ran away. All actions have consequences, Danny. That’s something your sister’s about to find out.”

I had to sweep the shop, dust every room in the house, tidy the shelves in the cool room, clean my bedroom, and put my laundry away—neatly. I had to clean out the chook house, as well as repair the old pigpen ready for Mo’s piglets being weaned. I had to help Liz feed all the poddies and the pigs and open the shop if any Blackfellas called by. I wanted to ask what to do if Mick or Gil called in, but I was afraid of what Dad would say, so I kept quiet.

Dad wanted me to clean out one of his sheds and tidy up the wood and sheets of metal that were inside it. He also said I had to go through all the jars and boxes of nuts, bolts, screws, washers, and things in another of the big sheds, and make sure they were tidy. There were hundreds of jars and boxes in there, all mixed up—screws thrown in with washers, big nails with drill bits, you name it. It was going to be hot and boring.

The next day Mum went to work as normal. She didn’t seem very happy about it. She told me and Emily that if Aunty Ve or Sissy phoned we had to tell her straightaway. She kind of shouted the instructions at us, like we were already in trouble before we’d even forgotten what to do. She wrote the number of the clinic at Marlu Hill where she worked in big letters on a piece of paper and pinned it to the wall next to the phone, so we couldn’t lose it. But the phone didn’t ring that day and Mum spoke to Sissy and Aunty Ve that night when she got home. She hung up and said Sissy was fine but there was no news and then radioed Dad to tell him the same thing. I didn’t get it. Why would you radio someone to say you had nothing to tell them?

For days I was stuck on the station. They felt like the longest of my life. Dad and the fellas were working all hours out at Wild Ridge. Some days they didn’t even come home. I’d missed them rounding up the cattle there—that was the best bit. With Dad staying out some nights, dinnertime was strange. There were too many empty seats at the table. I didn’t like it. It made me feel sad about Jonny and I wished Sissy would come home without the big belly. Like normal.

The only thing that was normal was Buzz. Even though I had all the chores to do, I made a deal that no matter what, I’d spend at least an hour a day with him. I dunno if he understood, but he seemed full of himself all week. He was a terrible rascal. He ran around, rearing up and kicking his legs like he was dancing, or something. Once or twice I thought I would have to get a stick, but after a few minutes he calmed down. It was like he’d get so excited about coming out of the pen and getting away from those dumb poddies, he wanted to jump up and down like he’d won a million bucks.

Liz saw us coming back into the yard one night after our training, and later at dinner she told everyone about how clever Buzz and me were. Dad and the fellas weren’t there, though, they’d stayed out at stock camp at Simpson’s Dam. They’d moved there after they’d finished at Wild Ridge. Bobbie said, “Just imagine what you could do if you put that much effort into your schoolwork, Danny.” Then Mum said, “Or those chores.” I dunno why grown-ups always had to ruin things. I thought about Dad and the fellas and wished I could just magically be with them instead of all the girls.

I’d heard Dad complaining about the dust. The ground was so dry that when the cattle were all together in the yards, they kicked up loads of dust. Dad reckoned it was a terrible storm. It got in the fellas’ eyes and ears and their lungs when they breathed. Into everything. Normally they’d get a hose and pump water onto the ground in the yards to damp it down so there was less dust, but because of the drought Dad didn’t like to do that much. But the dust was so bad he reckoned they’d have to do something because it was becoming impossible. I remembered the mark around Simpson’s Dam where the water used to be, from when the Pommie and me were there looking at Arthur’s stone. That was a while ago, though—I wondered how low the water had got now.

Mum said she hoped Sissy was OK. She said the baby’s due day wasn’t until a week after the muster was supposed to finish. She’d always said she’d go to Alice to be with Sissy once she started to have the baby. She’d said it would take hours for the baby to actually be born, so there’d be enough time to get there. She reckoned she’d spoken to her boss, Doctor Willis, at the clinic. He’d agreed to let her have more time off on compassionate grounds.

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When I woke up on Jonny’s bed, it wasn’t even starting to get light. I must have been looking at the soldiers he’d painted when I fell asleep because in the morning I found a few hiding in the sheets. I counted them to make sure all forty-seven were there, taking care with my favorite. It was the soldier Jonny had worked on last. I recognised him easily because he only had trousers. Jonny must have had the accident before he’d got round to painting the rest of the uniform.

Once I knew they were all there, I carefully put them away and got dressed. I decided to finish off sorting out the jars in Dad’s shed. As I walked into the dining room I saw the kitchen light was on, so I went to have a look to see who was in there. As I got to the doorway, I saw Dad sitting at the counter on the tall stool. He had his back to the door, and his hat was laid on the side, next to his cup of coffee. He was rubbing the sides of his head with his fingers. He hadn’t heard me and I didn’t want to spook him, so I made a little coughing sound in my throat to get his attention. He turned round and said, “Hey, Danny. What are you doing up so early?” His voice sounded weird, kind of croaky. Like his throat was sore, or something. I shrugged and said I just woke up. We looked at each other for a moment before Dad asked if I wanted some brekkie. I said I had some chores to do and so I’d get my brekkie later when everyone else was up. He nodded and said he was pleased I’d taken the right attitude to the chores. I guess that meant he was glad I was doing them.

It was starting to get light, but the sun hadn’t arrived so everything was grey. There was enough light for me to find my way to the shed and open the door. Inside, the jars were all on the floor where I’d left them. I picked up each one in turn, unscrewed the lid to have a look inside to make sure there were only washers or nuts or bolts or nails inside each one. That was a bit tricky to start with because it wasn’t really light enough to see, but after a while the sun poked its head over the desert and things got easier. I made sure all the jars went back on the shelves where they belonged and then closed the shed door behind me. I took out the list of chores Mum and Dad had given me and crossed that one off. As I looked at what I had left to do on the list, my stomach growled. I folded the piece of paper up and put it into my shirt pocket as the sun streaked the world orange.

I walked back to the house and Lloyd and Elliot were outside having a smoke. I heard Lloyd say something about Little Sissy with that gin. But Lloyd stopped speaking when Elliot said, “G’day, Danny, you’re up early.” I asked them why they weren’t inside having their brekkie, and Elliot said the Pommie’d screwed up again, so they thought they’d have a smoke instead.

When I opened the door, the Pommie was inside waving a towel around. I soon realized why—she was trying to get rid of the smell of burnt toast. “Great start to the day,” she said as I walked past. In the kitchen I saw six black slices of toast balanced on top of the pigs’ slops. Bobbie was standing guard over the grill to make sure the next lot didn’t go the same way. I went back into the dining room, where Mum was shaking her head at the smell while the Pommie opened more windows.

Eventually we sat down to eat the unburned toast Bobbie had made, while we pretended we couldn’t smell smoke any more. The Pommie wasn’t at the table—she was back in the kitchen watching the grill, like she had something to prove. By the time she brought the next lot of toast through, Mum had left the table to go to work, Bobbie had gone to the schoolroom to get things ready for us over there, and Dad and the fellas were probably halfway to Simpson’s Dam. When the Pommie realized there was only Emily and me there, she sighed and put the plate on the table. I didn’t want any more, but seeing as she’d gone to the trouble, I decided to take another slice. As the Pommie passed Emily the jam, she said she reckoned Sissy’s baby would be a bit like everybody jam. I thought she’d totally lost it. I mean, why would the baby look like jam? But then she said that all babies had special powers, which meant everybody liked them—no matter what. I shrugged at her as I kept chewing. Emily said she’d like it, but only if it was a girl. The Pommie reckoned it wouldn’t matter if the baby was a girl or a boy, everyone would still love it.

She said, “You’ll see,” as she carried the plate of uneaten toast back into the kitchen.

I reckoned she’d be in trouble if Mum saw how much bread had been wasted.