Tomorrow When The War Began (20 page)

‘Just like I said,’ I interjected. I’d never
thought of myself as a military genius, but I was pleased to find
I’d got this right.

Robyn went on. ‘Anyway there we were, chatting
away like old mates. She even told me how she used to work as a
cleaner at the chemist, part-time, and how many grandchildren she
had, and their names. She seemed to have forgotten what she’d said
about having a short conversation. Another couple of minutes and I
think she would have taken me into the kitchen and made a cup of
tea, but I suddenly realised there were these soft little footsteps
coming along the hall I pulled my head back in like a turtle, but I
tell you, I moved quicker than any turtle. And the next thing,
there were these boots right next to the bed. Black boots, but very
dirty and scuffed. It was a soldier, and he’d come sneaking along
the corridor to try to catch her out. I thought “What am I going to
do?” I tried to remember all the martial arts stuff that I’d ever
heard of, but all I could think of was to go for the groin.’

‘That’s all she thinks of with any guy,’ Kevin
said.

Robyn ignored him. ‘I was so scared, because I
didn’t want to cause any trouble for this nice old lady. I didn’t
even know her name. Still don’t. And I didn’t want to get myself
killed either. I’m funny like that. But I was so paralysed I
couldn’t move. I heard the guy say, very suspiciously, something
like “You talking”. I knew I was in trouble then. I rolled across
the floor to the other side of the bed and crawled out from under
the bedspread. I was in this little gap between the bed and the
wall, about a metre wide I guess. I heard the old lady laugh
nervously and say “To myself. In the mirror.” It sounded weak to me
and I guess it did to him too. All I had going for me was my
hearing, and my guesses. I knew he was going to search the room and
I guessed he’d start by lifting the bedspread and looking under the
bed. Then he’d come round the base of the bed and either go to the
built-in, or look in the little gap where I was lying. There were
no other places in the room where anyone could hide. It was a bare
room, not very nice at all. So I listened for the little swish of
his lifting the bedspread, and sure enough the room was so quiet I
heard it. In fact the room was so quiet I thought I could hear the
old lady’s heart beating. I knew I could hear my own heart beating.
I could hardly believe that the soldier couldn’t hear it. Anyway,
the trouble was I couldn’t hear the second little swish that he
should have made when he dropped the bedspread back down. I was in
agony, wondering if he was still staring under the bed or if he was
coming around to where I was lying. God, I was listening so hard I
could feel my ears grow. I felt like I had two satellite dishes on
the sides of my head.’

‘You look like you do,’ said Kevin, who never
missed an opportunity.

‘And I did hear something – the tiniest creak
of what I thought was his boot, and it seemed to be coming round
the base of the bed. I couldn’t hear my heart any more – it had
stopped. So I thought “Well, I can’t lie here and wait to be shot.
I’ve got to take the risk.” And so I rolled back under the bed. And
sure enough, about a second later I saw his boots in the gap that
I’d just left. The fronds on the edge of the bedspread were just
moving slightly from where I’d hit them, and I had this terrible
time, lying there wondering if he’d notice them, thinking that he
must notice them. They seemed so obvious to me, so conspicuous. He
seemed to stand there forever. I don’t know what he was looking at
– there wasn’t much to see, just a picture of a long bridge across
a ravine, in Switzerland or somewhere I think. Then the boots
turned and I could hear him more distinctly, going over to the
cupboards and opening them and searching through them. Then he said
to the lady “Come on, next house”, and out they went. I lay there
for so long – I thought it might have been a trap – but at last
Kevin came and got me and told me they’d gone. I’d had a pretty bad
time though – well, I don’t need to tell you guys what it was
like.

‘Corrie talked to someone too, in the kitchen,
didn’t you?’ she said, looking at Corrie, who gave a little nod.
‘That’s when you were told about the casualties from our two fights
with them?’

‘Yes,’ Corrie said. ‘I think they caused a bit
of a sensation. I talked to a funny little man who looked about
fifty. I don’t know his name either. He didn’t want to talk to me
much. He was just so scared that we’d be caught. But he told me
there was a bit of guerilla activity going on. He was the one who
had this theory of the “clean” invasion, too.’

‘So,’ said Robyn, ‘that was the end of our
secret chats with the work parties. We made our way back to our
hideout and stayed there till dark.’ She looked at Homer while she
said the next bit. It was like they felt a bit guilty, but they
were defiant too about the way they’d done things. ‘Now,’ she said,
‘I know we had all these carefully worked out plans about Kev and
Corrie spying on the Showground and so on, but it’s different when
you get there. The whole time we were in Wirrawee we didn’t want to
lose sight of each other.’

‘Young love,’ I said. ‘It’s beautiful.’

Robyn continued without missing a beat. ‘So
that night we stayed together again. For a start we walked out to
the highway, to see what was going on. And it is being heavily
used. We stayed an hour and there were two convoys just in that
time. One had forty vehicles and the other had twenty-nine. So it’s
doing big business, for a little old rural road. It hasn’t seen
that much excitement since the surf carnival. After that we came
back into town and went over to the Showground. That was bloody
scary too, I suppose because of what happened to you guys on your
visit there. In fact I thought it was pretty gutsy of Corrie and
Kev to go there again. And believe me, it is a dangerous place.
See, they’ve got their headquarters and their barracks there, as
well as our folks, so I guess that’s why they guard it so heavily.
They’ve cut down most of the trees in the carpark, so we couldn’t
find any approach to it that would provide any cover – I suppose
that’s why they cut them down. And they’ve put rolls of wire all
the way around it, about fifty metres from the main fence. I didn’t
know there was that much wire in Wirrawee. And they’ve rigged up
new lights, floodlights, which have got the entire surrounding area
lit up like it’s daytime. There’s a lot of very confused birds
flying round there. All we could do was peek from Racecourse Road,
which we did for an hour or so. I guess we were too scared to go
any closer, but honestly, I don’t think there’s much to see, just a
lot of sentries and patrols wandering round. If anyone has any
ideas of rolling up there in combat uniform and shooting their way
in and rescuing everybody, I think they can go back to sleep.
Fantasyland is for TV. This is real life.’

To be honest, which I swore I’d be, we’d all
had those delusions at times. They were only daydreams, but they
were powerful daydreams, to liberate our families, to fix
everything, to be heroes. But in a secret, guilty way, of which I
was ashamed, I felt relieved to have the daydream so firmly
squashed. In reality the prospect of doing something like that was
so horrifying and frightening that it made me ill to think of it.
We would surely die if we tried it, die with our guts blown out and
spread across the dirt of the Showground carpark, to have flies
feed on us as we turned rotten in the sunlight. It was an image I
couldn’t get out of my head, probably born from all the dead sheep
I’d seen over the years.

‘We were quite glad to get out of there,’
Robyn went on. ‘We moved back into town and just flitted around
like little bats, trying to make contact with dentists or anyone
else. Which reminds me,’ she said, smiling sweetly at Lee, ‘it’s
time I took your stitches out.’ Lee looked nervous. I was trying to
imagine Kevin flitting. It was hard to picture. ‘We didn’t find
anyone though,’ Robyn said. ‘Not a soul. There’s probably still a
few people around, but they’re lying very low.’ She grinned, and
relaxed. ‘And that concludes our report to the nation. Thank you
and good night.’

‘Hey, we could end up being the nation,’ Kevin
said. ‘We could be the only ones left free, so we’d be the
government and everything, wouldn’t we? Bags being Prime
Minister.’

‘I’ll be the Police Commissioner,’ Chris said.
We all chose jobs, or got given them. Homer was Minister for
Defence, and Chief of the General Staff. Lee was Pensioner of the
Year, because of his leg. Robyn wanted to be Minister for Health
but got Archbishop instead. Corrie said, ‘I’ll be Minister for
Kevin’. She really could be sickening at times. Fi was Attorney
General, because of her parents. I got named as Poet Laureate,
which I was quite pleased about.

Maybe it was that which first planted in
Robyn’s head the idea of my writing all this down.

‘So anyway,’ Chris said eventually, ‘your
turn. What have you guys been doing back here, apart from working
on your tans?’

They’d already admired the chook yard, and
they’d sampled the eggs. But we told them the rest, especially
about the Hermit’s hut, which we figured would make a great back-up
base for us.

‘I want to find a way out of the back of Hell,
to the HollowayRiver,’ I said. ‘I’m sure that’s where this creek
must go. And if we had a back way out of here we’d be in an even
safer position. Once we’re in the Holloway we can get to that whole
Risdon area.’

Lee and I didn’t tell them about the metal box
with the Hermit’s papers. There was no particular reason. We hadn’t
even discussed not telling them. It just seemed too private.

‘Listen, you know these chooks,’ Kevin said,
‘I’ve been thinking about other livestock we could have. I’m no
vegetarian, and I want my meat. And I mink I’ve got the
answer.’

We all waited expectantly. He leaned forward
and said one word, in a solemn, almost reverent tone.

‘Ferrets.’

‘Oh no,’ Corrie squealed. ‘Yuk! They’re
disgusting! I hate them.’

Kevin looked wounded at this disloyalty from
the one person he could normally count on. ‘They’re not
disgusting,’ he said, sounding hurt. ‘They’re clean and they’re
intelligent and they’re very friendly.’

‘Yeah, so friendly they’ll run up your trouser
leg,’ Homer said.

‘What are they?’ Fi asked. ‘Do you eat
them?’

‘Yeah, between two slices of bread. And you
don’t kill them first. You eat them alive, as they squirm and
squeal in the sandwich. They’re the world’s freshest food.’ That
was Kevin, being funny. He proceeded to give Fi a lesson on
ferrets, during which it became obvious that he didn’t know much
about them either.

Homer said, ‘It’s true that some of those old
blokes around Wirrawee, the retired miners, keep a few ferrets and
live on the rabbits. They haven’t got a quid to rub between them,
so that’s how they keep themselves in meat.’

There, you see?’ said Kevin, sitting back on
his heels.

It was quite a smart idea. I didn’t know much
about them either, except that you needed nets which you put over
all the holes and the rabbits ran into them and were caught. And
although there wouldn’t be many rabbits up here in the mountains,
there was never any shortage of them around the district.

Then Chris threw a fly into the ointment.
‘Wouldn’t they all be dead?’ he asked. ‘The ferrets? If their
owners are prisoners, or dead, there’d be no one to look after the
ferrets and keep them alive.’

Kevin looked smug. ‘Ordinarily, yes,’ he said.
‘But my uncle, the one out past the Stratton turn-off, lets them
run free. He’s got heaps of them and he’s trained them to come in
when he whistles. They’re like dogs. They know they’ll get food
when they hear that signal. He loses a few of them that go feral,
but he’s got so many he doesn’t care.’

We added ferrets to our list of things to get,
do, or investigate.

‘Let’s grab some sleep,’ Homer said then,
standing and stretching and yawning. ‘Maybe Ellie could run another
guided tour to the Hermit’s hut after lunch, for those wishing to
partake of this unique and interesting historical experience. Then
I vote we have a Council of War later this afternoon, to work out
our next move.’

‘Well, you’re the Minister for Defence,’ I
said.

Chapter
Eighteen

The Minister for Defence was sitting on a rock
with his feet in the creek. Kevin actually lay in the cold water,
letting it run over his big hairy body. Fi was perched above
Homer’s head on another rock, looking like a little goddess. She
was so light I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her suddenly
grow rainbow-coloured wings and flutter away. Robyn was lying on
her back on the bank, reading
My Brilliant
Career.
Chris was a few metres from me, under a tree, his
smokes beside him.

I don’t know whether I should really call them
his smokes though.

He was gazing at the big rocky cliffs that we
could see through the trees, in the distance.

Corrie was sitting next to Robyn. She had her
radio out again. They’d brought fresh batteries that they’d found
in Wirrawee and she was trying them. One of the women they’d talked
to had said that some pirate radio stations were on the air at
times, giving news and advice. Corrie was checking the short wave
bands too, but it would be hard to get them in daytime, and we
weren’t in an easy place for radio reception.

I was curled up into Lee, my head in his
chest, burrowing into him like I was a baby. We’d spent most of the
afternoon passionately holding and kissing and touching till I felt
I would fall apart; as though the fibres that held my body together
were disappearing. It had been Homer whom I’d felt more physically
attracted to. Originally what drew me to Lee was his mind, his
intelligent, sensitive face, and the security that I felt with him.
Homer didn’t exactly radiate security. But beneath Lee’s calm
exterior I’d found someone deeply passionate. I was a virgin and I
know Lee was; matter of fact I think we all were, except maybe
Kevin. I’m pretty sure he and Sally Noack had done the dirty deed
regularly when they’d had a long relationship last year. But if
we’d had the privacy that hot afternoon in the clearing in Hell I
think Lee and I might have lost our virginity simultaneously. I was
clinging to him and pressing against him as though I wanted to get
my whole body inside him, and I liked the way I could make him
groan and gasp and sweat. I liked giving him pleasure, although it
was hard to tell what was pleasure and what was pain. I was teasing
him, touching him and saying ‘Does that hurt? Does that? Does
that?’ and he was panting, saying ‘Oh God ... no, yes, no’. It made
me feel powerful. But he got his revenge. I’m not sure who had the
last laugh – or the last cry. Normally when I’m out of control,
when I get swept off by the white water, whether it’s the giggles
or the blues or one of my famous tantrums, I can still stand
outside myself and smile and think ‘What a maniac’. Part of my mind
stays detached, can watch what I’m doing, can think about it and be
aware of it all. But that afternoon with Lee, no. I was lost
somewhere in the rapids of my feelings. If life is a struggle
against emotion, then I was losing. It was almost scary. I was
actually relieved when Homer yelled that it was time to start our
conference.

I said to Robyn, ‘Good book?’

She said, ‘Yeah, it’s OK. We’ve got to read it
for English.’

We still hadn’t adjusted to the fact that the
world had changed, that school wasn’t going to start on the normal
day. I suppose we should have been delighted at the thought of not
going to school, but we weren’t. I was starting to want to use my
brain again; to wrestle with new ideas and difficult theories. I
decided then that I’d follow Robyn’s example and read some of the
harder books we’d brought with us. There was one called
The Scarlet Letter
that looked like a
good tough one.

‘Well,’ Homer began, ‘we’ve got to make more
decisions guys. I’ve been looking up at the sky every five minutes,
waiting for the American troops to drop down in their big green
choppers, but there’s no sign of them yet. And Corrie hasn’t heard
any news flashes yet, to tell us that help is on its way. So we
might just have to do it on our own for a bit longer.

‘The way I see it, these are our choices, now
that we know a bit more about the deal. One, we can sit tight and
do nothing. And there’s nothing chicken about that. It’s got a lot
to recommend it. We’re not trained for this stuff, and it’s
important for ourselves, and for our families, and for that matter
even our country, that we stay alive. Two, we can have a go at
getting our families and maybe other people out of the Showground.
That’s a tough one, probably way beyond our reach. I mean, we’ve
got rifles and shotguns but they’d be popguns compared to what
these turkeys are using. Three, we can do something else to help
the good guys. That’s us, I might add, in case anyone’s confused.’
He grinned at Robyn. ‘We could involve ourselves in some way that
would help us win this war and get our country back. There’s other
things we could do too of course, other options, like moving
somewhere else, or surrendering, but they’re so remote I don’t
think they’re worth discussing, although we will if anyone wants to
of course.

‘So, that’s the deal, that’s for real, that’s
what I feel. Three choices, and I think it’s time we made one and
stuck to it.’ He leaned back and crossed his arms and put his feet
in the water again.

There was quite a silence, then Robyn took up
the invitation.

‘I’m still not sure what’s right or wrong in
this whole setup,’ she said. ‘But I don’t think I could sit around
here for months, not doing anything. It’s just an emotional thing –
I couldn’t do it. I agree with Homer that the Showground’s beyond
our reach, but I feel we’ve got to get out and have a go at
something. On the other hand I don’t want us to go around killing a
lot of people. I’ve read those Vietnam books like
Fallen Angels,
where the woman hid a mine in her
own kid’s clothes and gave it to a soldier to hold, then blew them
both up. I still have nightmares about that. I’m already having
nightmares about those people we ran down in the truck. But I guess
my nightmares are small suffering compared to what some people have
had. My nightmares are just the price I have to pay, I know that.
Despite what these people say about a “clean” invasion, I think all
wars are filthy and foul and rotten. There was nothing clean about
them blowing up Corrie’s house, or killing the Francis family. I
know this might sound a bit different from what I said before, but
I don’t think it is. I can understand why these people have invaded
but I don’t like what they’re doing and I don’t think there’s
anything very moral about them. This war’s been forced on us, and I
haven’t got the guts to be a conscientious objector. I just hope we
can avoid doing too much that’s filthy and foul and rotten.’

No one else had much to add for a while. Then
Fi, who was looking white and miserable, said, ‘I know logically we
should do this and we should do that. But all I know is that the
thought of doing anything makes my nose bleed. All I really want to
do is to go down to the Hermit’s hut and hide under his mouldy old
bed till this is over. I’m really fighting myself to stop from
doing that. I suppose when the time comes I’ll probably do whatever
I have to do, but the main reason I’ll do it is because I feel the
pressure of keeping up with you guys. I don’t want to let you down.
I’d feel so ashamed if I couldn’t match you in whatever it is we
decide to do. I don’t think there’s any way we can help our
families right now, so not losing face with you all has become my
biggest thing. And what worries me is that I can’t guarantee I
won’t pack up under pressure. The trouble is, I’m so full of fear
now, that anything could happen. I’m scared that I might just stand
there and scream.’

‘Peer group pressure,’ said Lee, but with a
sympathetic smile at Fi. He was using one of Mrs Gilchrist, our
Principal’s, favourite phrases.

‘Well, of course you’re the only one who feels
that way,’ Homer said. ‘The rest of us don’t know the word “fear”.
Kevin can’t even spell it. We know no feelings. We’re androids,
terminators, robocops. We’re on a mission from God. We’re Superman,
Batman and Wonder Woman.’ He went on more seriously. ‘No, it’s a
big problem. None of us knows how we’ll react when the fan gets
hit. I know what it’s been like for me so far, just doing little
things, like waiting in that car in Three Pigs Lane. My teeth were
chattering so bad I had to hold my mouth shut to keep them in. I
don’t know how I didn’t vomit. I was absolutely convinced I was
going to die.’

We kept talking on, over, under and around the
topic. Apart from Fi, the ones who were least keen were Chris and,
strangely enough, Kevin. I could understand it a bit with Chris. He
just lived in his own world most of the time, his parents were
overseas, he didn’t have many friends. In fact I don’t think he
liked people all that much. He probably could have lived in the
Hermit’s hut quite happily, unlike Fi, who would have gone crazy in
half a day. But I got the impression that, like Fi, Chris’d go
along with whatever we decided; in his case because he didn’t have
the energy or initiative to stand out against the group. Kevin was
more of a puzzle, changing his attitude from one day to the next.
There were times when he seemed bloodthirsty and times when he
seemed chicken. I wondered if it depended on how long it had been
since he’d been close to danger. Maybe when he’d had some action
recently he went a bit quiet, dived for cover. But when things had
been safe for a while he started getting his aggression back.

As for me, I was a mess of different feelings.
I wanted to be able to make calm, logical decisions, to put points
for and against on opposite sides of a piece of paper, but I
couldn’t get my feelings out of the road enough to do it. When I
thought about those bullets, and the ride-on mower, and the truck
ride, I shook and felt sick and wanted to scream. Just like Fi and
Homer and everyone else. I didn’t know how I’d handle it if and
when it all happened again. Maybe it’d be easier. Maybe it’d be
harder.

Nevertheless, I think we all felt that we
should do something, if only because the idea of doing nothing
seemed so appalling that we couldn’t even contemplate it. So we
started tossing a few ideas around. Gradually we found ourselves
talking more and more about the road from Cobbler’s Bay. It seemed
like that was where the most important action was. We decided that
when Homer and Fi and Lee and I went out, the following night, we’d
concentrate our attentions there.

I walked away from our meeting, leaving
everyone, even Lee, and went back up the track quite a way. I ended
up sitting on one of Satan’s Steps, in the last of the hot
afternoon. I could hear the creek churning away over a pile of
rocks below me. I’d been there about ten minutes when a dragonfly
landed near my feet. By then I must have become part of the
landscape, because he seemed to ignore me. When I looked at him I
realised he had something in his mouth. Whatever it was, it was
still wriggling and flitting its little wings. I bent forward
slowly and looked more closely. The dragonfly kept ignoring me. I
could see now that it was a mosquito that he had, and he was eating
it alive. Bit by bit the mosquito, still struggling wildly, was
munched up. I watched, fascinated, until it was completely gone.
The dragonfly perched there for another minute or so, then suddenly
flew away.

I sat back again, against the hot rock. So,
that was Nature’s way. The mosquito felt pain and panic but the
dragonfly knew nothing of cruelty. He didn’t have the imagination
to put himself in the mosquito’s place. He just enjoyed his meal.
Humans would call it evil, the big dragonfly destroying the
mosquito and ignoring the little insect’s suffering. Yet humans
hated mosquitos too, calling them vicious and bloodthirsty. All
these words, words like ‘evil’ and ‘vicious’, they meant nothing to
Nature. Yes, evil was a human invention.