| |
––––––––
MS LOTI WAS STILL GRIPPING my hand, and if anything her grip was tighter than before. “I’d better go up to the caretaker’s house and see if his phone is working,” she said, her voice not quite as self-assured as usual.
“Okay,” I said, “Um. I’d better go change.” I tugged my hand free and squelched away toward the concrete block cabins. The thunderstorm was over and rain was easing slightly. In the camp there were kids everywhere, wandering around wet or half-changed. There were heaps of wet clothes in corners or hanging on railings, kids walking about in their swimsuits and towels. Utter chaos.
“What’s happening?” I asked Jackson as he went by.
“Some of us are going to have a swim.”
“You’re joking! In the rain?”
He just grinned and shrugged and went on his way.
I couldn’t believe it. Swimming in the rain? But it was true. More and more kids were heading for the pool. I saw Lucy, cheering everyone along. “Come on, come on! The water’s going to be lovely!”
Jackson came back to the bunkroom about a minute later.
“Hey, Nathan, have you seen Ms Loti?”
“She’s up at the caretaker’s place. Why?”
“Lee’s got a headache.”
“I’ll get her,” I said, glad of any excuse to avoid being roped into a swim.
#
I HEADED UP TO THE caretaker’s house. It was slightly beyond the camp, right by the road at the top end of the whole site. There, in the upper car-park, I saw Ms Loti talking with Mr Prior and the caretaker. It looked pretty serious.
As I got closer I heard her saying, “...it’ll probably be okay, but I just don’t like being cut off like this.”
The caretaker shrugged and said, “Ah, it happens all the time with thunderstorms. Like I say, the phones could be out till tomorrow. Or worse. If it flooded down at the Flat it would have taken out two or three poles. Could be out till next week.”
“We should still be able to drive out, though? In an emergency?”
“Depends on whether Limestone Creek flooded too. The creeks join up at the Flats. The road can get up to two metres of water across it.”
Mr Prior glanced at the three vehicles in the car park. One of them was a pretty big SUV. “I’ll drive down and try it,” he said, “may as well find out how bad it is.”
“Worth a go,” said the caretaker, sizing up Mr Prior’s vehicle, “Diesel, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“No worries then. But don’t go through unless you’re absolutely sure the road’s still there. It’s been washed out before and you can’t tell just by looking at the water. You could drop into a pretty big hole.”
“Don’t worry, mate. I won’t risk it.”
I don’t know why but I piped up right then. “Can I come with you?”
Mr Prior looked down at me. So did Ms Loti. “I suppose so,” she said, then turned back to Mr Prior, “Even if you don’t get through, maybe we can get a connection further down.” She handed her phone to me and pointed to the display screen. “We need to see the words “EMERGENCY CALLS ONLY, at least. Give it a try. Stand on the roof if you have to.”
I was amazed that she was letting me go. I don’t think she would have let any other kid do it, but I guess by then it was like we had some sort of common bond; no fear of heights but a total terror of water. I nodded and held her phone securely and suddenly remembered why I was there. “Oh, Jackson says Lee’s got a headache. They were wondering where you were.”
She glanced at Mr Prior, worried, then turned and hurried back to the camp.
“Right,” Mr Prior said to me, let’s do it then, ahhh...?”
“Nathan. Nathan Kennigan.”
“Okay, Nathan. Let’s go.”
#
WE DROVE IN SILENCE through the rain. The road was littered with dirt and bits of trees. In dozens of places the water flowed across the road like wide thin rivers. Even as we drove, the rain got heavier again.
The bush opened out and the road straightened. We had reached the Flat. Ahead, in the steady rain, I could just make out the main bridge.
“It’s still standing!” I said thankfully. Indeed it was, but the road to the bridge was covered with water. Mr Prior changed down a few gears and started driving across the water slowly. I cringed up off my seat.
“You said you wouldn’t risk it!” I squeaked.
“This isn’t as bad as I thought,” he answered calmly, “I’ve been through a few floods before. This is nothing.”
We reached the up-slope to the bridge and came up out of the water, but Mr Prior stopped as soon as we reached the concrete.
“Woo-hoo!” he said, “Look at that!”
Under the bridge swirled a million billion litres of water, all muddy brown and full of branches and other rubbish. I’m even sure I saw a bit of the footbridge swoosh by. And beyond the bridge there was no road to be seen; just the same vast restless plain of roiling floodwater, fading into the thick rain.
“Back we go,” was all he said.
“What about the phones?” I said. I was holding Ms Loti’s even as I spoke, and its message remained unchanged: SEARCHING FOR NETWORK.
We both got out, sheltering under a huge multi-coloured umbrella Mr Prior had in the back. The phones weren’t working. He helped me up onto the roof-rack and I held up the two phones as high as I could. I turned in every direction. “Nothing,’ I called down, “Neither one.”
“Oh well, not a worry,” he said cheerfully, “It’ll all be different in the morning. Let’s get back.”
I came down and got in. He backed up a little way, turned us around carefully on the bit of road we could see, and drove slowly back through the floodwaters.
Even then I was getting a bad feeling about everything. Even a cheerful remark from a confident adult sent a funny shiver up my spine.