Heller's Punishment (18 page)

Chapter
12

Instead, it
ended up being more of a long, mind-numbingly dull trip for me, as
Jye could barely coax the Kombi up to even half the speed limit. I
soon lost my nerves about crashing at high speed, although Jye’s
attention to his driving was sporadic.

I distracted
myself from his erratic driving by enjoying the variety and
creativeness of the rain of curses hurled down on us by angry
fellow drivers, enraged at their journeys being unfairly disrupted
by such a slow moving vehicle. Jye seemed oblivious to all the
abuse and happily stayed in the fast lane, blathering on about The
Farm and its creed. He gave me an intricate and overly detailed
rundown of the types of crops grown by the ‘Farmers’, which I only
half-heard. I was too busy laughing in amazement as a sweet-faced,
white-haired elderly lady screamed out at Jye to take that “shitbag
of a van off the fucking road, you stupid cocksucking hippy”. She
screeched past us in her sunflower-coloured Toyota Corolla,
flipping us the finger out of her window as we ate her dust.

“What’s her
problem?” Jye wondered out loud, as he ground the gears together
again, inexplicably attempting to change down just as we approached
a steep incline. By the time we reached the top of the winding, no
passing road, there were at least ten cars stuck behind us, each of
whose driver gave us a special ‘message’ as they overtook us in
wild anger when we eventually reached a passing lane. Evidently
there is nothing more likely to promote murderous road rage than
following a slow Kombi van for ten kilometres. Especially a slow
Kombi van with
Peace
painted onto the rear door, garnished
liberally with garish flowers.

Jye pulled into
the next petrol station and as he filled up, I visited the
facilities and bought myself a diet soft drink from the shop. I
checked my phone. No messages. For some reason that made me feel
sorry for myself, even though I’d only been gone from home for a
couple of hours. Jye looked at my diet soda in disgust.

“Those things
will give you cancer,” he proclaimed. “There won’t be anything like
that to drink on The Farm. Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll be
sure to enjoy my last one for a while then, won’t I?” I replied,
not caring for his patronising tone, and I deliberately slurped it
noisily as we drove off again. After another hour of driving, he
turned off the regional highway onto a small side road, driving
again for another twenty minutes before turning off again, this
time onto a dirt road. A bone-rattling further thirty minutes of
driving saw us deep in the countryside and I noted with some alarm
that I had no signal on my phone.

“Can’t you get
mobile access here?” I asked, concerned.

“No. They
wanted to put a tower near here last year, but we fought them off,
even though most of our neighbours wanted it. Yeah. Those things
give you cancer,” he stated again. I rolled my eyes.

“I need to be
able to contact my boss regularly. What are my options?”

“We have a
landline in the main office. Yeah. But it’s for emergencies only,”
he said.

“What about
internet access?”

“No. We don’t
use computers. Yeah. They give you –” he started.

“Yeah, yeah. I
get it. Cancer,” I interrupted impatiently. “Is there somewhere in
town where I can find broadband or even dial-up internet?”

“There is no
town near us. The nearest one is over one hundred kilometres away,
further down the highway. Yeah.”

“What? How do
you stay in touch with the world?” I asked, incredulous.

“Why would we
want to? The world is nothing but trouble. We prefer our own small
and perfect world that we’ve created here. Yeah.”

I flopped back
on my seat.
Shit!
I had to keep in contact with Heller. It
made me nervous thinking of not being able to talk to him on a job,
even if he didn’t want to talk to me at the moment.

“I’m going to
have to use the landline. I’ll pay for my calls.”

“New recruits
aren’t allowed to use the telephone,” he replied.

“I’m not a new
recruit though. That’s just a cover, remember? I need to be able to
use the phone.”

“I’ll talk to
the Head Farmer about it. Yeah,” he promised.

“Thank you.
It’s very important that I stay in contact with my boss.”

He turned to
look at me. “You know, you should take advantage of visiting us to
really listen to what we have to say. Yeah. It might change your
life. You might find your mind opening up to new possibilities.”
Another look at my boobs.

Like hell I
would!
I thought, but gave him a noncommittal smile in
response. After another bumpy ten minutes, he pulled up at a high
metal gate abutting a three-metre tall, iron fence topped with
barbed-wire. It had the all the warmth of a gulag.

“That looks
welcoming,” I noted sarcastically.

“We get trouble
sometimes. Not from locals, but from idiots from the town. Yeah.
They get drunk and come out from town to hassle ‘the hippies’. They
think it’s funny. Yeah. Not cool.”

He alighted
from the driver’s seat and opened the lock on the gate, before
driving through, then hopping out to relock it again. We bumped
along another dirt road for ten more minutes before spying even a
hint of civilisation. He pulled into a compound with a semi-circle
cluster of squat, mud-brick buildings, each painted the same dung
colour with terracotta tiled roofs. I presumed the Farmers had
constructed the buildings themselves, as there was an unmistakeably
rough homemade appearance to them.

I stepped out
of the vehicle, glad to stretch my muscles. I couldn’t see anyone
about, but could sense people watching me from inside the
buildings. I turned around looking at all the windows, but didn’t
spot any sudden movements.

“Come with me.
Yeah.” Jye said, leading me towards the largest of the buildings,
planted in the centre of the semi-circle. He opened the main door
and I followed him into a surprisingly cool but dark space. “This
is the office,” he told me as we walked towards a closed door on
the far wall. He knocked deferentially, and received consent to
enter. The room had whitewashed walls and ceilings and unpolished
broad-planked timber floors. Very rustic.

Sitting behind
a desk made from timber slabs, which also looked homemade, was a
large woman with thick arms and neck, a plain, square face framed
with short iron-grey hair, a thin mouth and shrewd, calculating
blue eyes. She was wearing some kind of shapeless, unattractive
long shift dress in a dirty white colour, against which her
enormous bust strained for freedom.

“Our new
recruit. Tilly Chalmers. Yeah,” Jye said, making a one-way
introduction. The woman stood up from behind her desk and came out
towards me, surprisingly spry for her size.

“Ooh, lovely,”
she exclaimed, as she looked me over. “Very pleased to meet you,
Tilly.” She took my hands in hers, rubbing the backs of each with
her thumbs and gazing at me in a way that made me mentally squirm
with unease. “Well done, Jye, well done.” Jye smiled with smug
pride.

“And you are .
. .?” I asked, finally finding my voice.

“I’m the Head
Farmer,” she responded, not shifting her eyes from mine for a
moment. I hated it when people did that.

“Excellent,” I
continued. “Then you know why I’m here? You’re aware I’m not
actually a new recruit.”

“Of course, of
course. But we must keep your cover as a new recruit to allay any
suspicion amongst the Farmers. I don’t want anyone being concerned
about the letters we’ve been receiving.”

I pulled my
hands away from hers. “Would you like to show me the letters,
please?”

She gave me a
secret smile as if my discomfort amused her and went over to unlock
a filing cabinet, rifling through the first drawer before
extracting and handing me a bundle of papers. I couldn’t help but
notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her huge boobs swung
pendulously as she moved. I averted my eyes quickly, wishing
instantly that I hadn’t noticed.

I quickly
scanned the notes. They were all identically worded:
Death to
Farmers. You will reap what you sow.

“And you have
no idea who is sending these to you?”

“None at all.”
That secret smile again.

“But you think
it’s connected to your negotiations to purchase your neighbour’s
fields?”

“Tilly, some
narrow-minded people don’t understand our lifestyle. They feel
threatened by our happiness and peace. They’re afraid of any
expansion plans we have, that we’ll attract even more satisfied
Farmers. Perhaps they’re also afraid that we might convert them.”
She turned to Jye. “Let’s get Tilly outfitted and set up before it
grows dark. She can join us for her first meal as a new recruit
tonight.”

Jye disappeared
and returned with a pile of neatly folded clothes. The Head Farmer
shook out a shift, similar to hers and offered it to me.

“Go on, put it
on. Don’t be shy. We’re all family here now.”

I took the
shift and turned my back to them, hurriedly pulling off my t-shirt
and wrenching the shift over my neck as they both watched with
off-putting avidness. The material was scratchy and coarse, and I
later learned that it was homespun from the flock of sheep the
Farmers kept. I let it fall to my ankles before I unzipped my jeans
and removed them as well. I might have been imagining things, but I
sensed some disappointment that I hadn’t provided more of a
striptease for their entertainment.

“Feel free to
discard your underwear as well, Tilly. Many of choose to be as
unrestricted by clothing as possible,” suggested the Head
Farmer.

“Thanks anyway,
but underwear is good,” I said firmly. I tried valiantly to banish
any thought of her nakedness. I was given a pair of flimsy sandals
to replace my beloved runners. The Head Farmer came over to me and
turned me around, pulling my hair free of its ponytail.

“We encourage
natural beauty in all its forms,” she explained enigmatically as
she gently fluffed my hair around my head. I took a step away from
her as soon as it was polite and gathered my clothes, clutching
them to my chest. I really didn’t like it here.

“Jye will take
you to the sleeping quarters now, and then I’ll meet you again in
the dining hall.”

Jye took me
back to the Kombi where I hauled out my suitcase. He didn’t offer
to carry it for me, and I followed him to a building to the right
of the main office. He opened the door to reveal a long room filled
with two rows of army style bunks, each with its own combined
cupboard/dressing table standing next to it.

“This will be
your bed here,” he said, guiding me to an unoccupied space in the
middle of the left row.

“Is the men’s
dormitory on the other side of the building?” I enquired
politely.

“No, Tilly. We
all sleep in here. Men, women and children. We’re a true
community.”

“Really?” I
said, not bothering to hide my dismay. “Everyone together in this
room?”

“Yes, it’s an
incredible bonding experience for all the Farmers. A way of
confirming that we share everything in this community.”

Shit!
I
nearly cried with depression. A whole month of unwelcome
togetherness with a bunch of whackos, twenty-four hours a day. I
missed my little flat already. With heel-dragging reluctance, I put
my suitcase on the bed and unpacked my meagre belongings under
Jye’s watchful eyes. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I
hesitated about taking out my electronic tablet, and left it
sitting snugly in its hidden compartment. I pushed my empty
suitcase under my new bed.

“Excellent,”
said Jye. “Let’s go eat. I’m famished.”

The dining hall
was another huge communal room on the right side of the main
office, next to the dormitory, long tables and bench seats filling
the space. A door at the end of the hall obviously led to the
kitchen. A terrible smell pervaded the room and I hoped to God that
it wasn’t dinner, because I’d suddenly lost my appetite if it
was.

The bench seats
were teeming with Farmers, everyone dressed in the ugly homespun
shifts (for the women) or homespun shirts and drawstring cotton
pants (for the men). There were about one hundred people, ranging
in age from the middle-aged baby-boomers, who were probably the
original Farmers, down to a newborn baby who stridently screeched
its displeasure at being kept waiting for its food. Its mother
obliged by popping her boob out in front of everyone and shoving it
in the greedy baby’s mouth. I knew it was natural and a beautiful
thing, but it always made me feel uncomfortable to witness, and I
looked away. Maybe because I knew that my boobs were only ever
going to be playthings for men and would never nurture another
human being, my ability to procreate prematurely ended by the car
accident with Niq.
Never mind
, I told myself. I didn’t care
anyway, not being a particularly maternal person in the first
place.

I felt like the
new girl at school as Jye led me to a table. Everyone stared at me
and gossiped discreetly behind their hands. I was suddenly shy and
I didn’t make eye contact with anyone as Jye herded me to my seat.
He was then called away by another Farmer.

“Hello. Welcome
to The Farm,” said a gentle male voice next to me, and I raised my
head to thank him for his kindness. We stared at each other, mouths
gaping in surprise.

“Tilly? Tilly
Chalmers? Is that really you?” he asked in wonderment.

“Oh, my God!
Simon?” I couldn’t say another word, completely dumbstruck.

“Tilly! How
wonderful to see you. I’ve often thought about you and hoped that
everything turned out well for you. And here you are! It’s like a
miracle.”

During
university, Simon Fells had been the absolute love of my life – a
very attractive, intelligent boy from a well-heeled family,
studying philosophy, and with a profound interest in exploring the
meaning of life. We’d dated for almost two years at university and
I would have married him in a blink if he’d asked. But he hadn’t.
Instead, at the end of our second year, he found God, or rather an
eccentric interpretation of God’s word propagated by a cultish
religious group active on campus at the time. I tried everything
from sex to overt threats to keep my hold on Simon, but I felt him
slipping away from me day by day, the cult’s grip on him
tightening.