Published: 27 Mar 2017

Esca had driven Luke to visit his Aunt in Ravenswood, staying for a number of days. Alice Campbell took an instant liking towards Esca, telling Luke he was a nice boy, while Esca all smiles and manners, carried the shopping, washed dishes and offered with everything.

“Crawler,” Luke whispered, sidling up to Esca during dish-washing. Esca smiled and winked, “have to keep sweet with the in-laws.” He answered.

Once home they found their back door wide open and the latch broken. Since the run of break-ins they had taken to securing doors while away from the house, as had many in town. Gone were the care free days when one would be away from home for most of the morning, or even longer, leaving doors unlocked, often wide to the cooling of the breeze.

Inside nothing appeared to be missing, except for a couple of dollars in change left on the kitchen table but there were signs someone had gone through their belongings, scattering clothing around their bedroom.

“Should we call the police?” Luke said, his hands resting heavily on his hips, his eyes everywhere.

“Na not worth it, we’d probably get Barnes.”

“We could speak to Payne, he seems reasonable enough.” Luke suggested.

“Have you lost anything?”

“I don’t think so.” Luke answered quickly scanning the disorder in their bedroom, “At least they didn’t crap on the bed.” His tone relieved by the fact.

“Then forget it, well be out of here soon – coffee?” Esca filled the jug, “I’ll put a stronger latch on the door later.”

“Why don’t we shift over to Violet’s house today, I have the keys.” Luke proposed.

“Why not,” Esca agreed, besides most of what they would need was already at the Wilson Street house, left behind after Violet went into care. It would only take one or two trips to transfer their few belongings, “the first thing in the morning.” He added.

It was agreed and the packing begin.

By lunch the following day they were seated in Violet’s kitchen enjoying a curry meat pie and coffee. Even their ancient television was attached and working and receiving a much improved reception. Also the house appeared cooler, having a different outlook than the Brody house, where the hot breeze came down from the crown of Butcher’s Hill gathering speed as it travelled. Violet’s house was surrounded by many leafy trees, still green although commencing to show struggle from the continuing drought.

“Only one thing left to do.” Esca announced as the last of his pie settled into his stomach. Its taste remained, creating desire for a second of the Rose Deli’s speciality.

“What would that be, christen the bed.” Luke laughed.

“No you grubby little bugger. Return the keys for mum’s house to Fraser.”

“Oh, I don’t want to miss that.”

Bill Fraser intentions were to issue the eviction that very day. He had been around two days earlier, finding no one home. That morning on his way to the bank he spotted Esca’s utility and made up his mind. He would boldly march up to the door, past the prostrate wire gate and weeds. Heavily knock on the door and deliver his revenge. Beside him would be Brett for protection or more as a witness if there should be violence. Fraser had planned the lot, from his well chosen verbal delivery, to Esca’s reaction. Even the look on Brody’s face on receiving the news, also an image of Esca begging to stay but it would be of no use. He must go. Revenge must be had. The thought of it put a skip into his step, momentarily removing his financial depression.

Fraser was at the rear of the shop when Esca and Luke approached his assistant, a dumpy young girl with a blond switch of ponytail and makeup more trowelled than applied, who giggled on seeing Luke.

Lyn Kent had been in Luke’s last year of school and still retained a school yard crush on him.

“Morning Lyn,” Luke greeted. Lyn giggled and flushed crimson.

“Is Mr. Fraser in?” Esca asked taking the girl’s attention away from Luke.

“He’s out the back.” Lyn answered more seriously, her eyes remaining on Luke as she spoke.

“I would like a word with him please.” Esca asked.

As he spoke Fraser returned to the shop carrying a large stack of magazines. He roughly dumped his load onto the counter, spilling a number onto the floor.

“What do you want?” Fraser demanded loudly, his bull like voice reverberating around the walls, sending Lyn to the rear of the shop to escape his rage.

“Not a lot Mr. Fraser, I’m returning the keys to mum’s house,” which in reality were mostly symbolic as most of their locks had long gone.

Fraser stood motionless.

“You do own it?” Esca asked, still holding onto the ring of keys, slowly jiggling them about.

Fraser remained silent. He had been beaten at his own game, losing his pleasure for revenge, instead was in possession of a property he most probably could neither sell nor rent, which at any means would soon be the property of the bank. He was furious and if he had a firearm at that very moment, would have used it on Esca, now all the man could do was accept the keys and confess ownership.

“I’ve already moved out but you will have to arrange with mum what to do with the shed full of junk and furniture. I’ve cleaned the housed and tidied as best as I can but it’s an old house and lets in the dust.”

Esca gave his most friendly smile, being careful not to appear sarcastic, “Another thing, someone broke in while I was away, I’ve done what I can but you will need to take a look at the latch on the rear door.” Another smile as he wished the News Agent a pleasant day before leaving. Reaching the door Esca’s smile turned into a broad grin then once out of sight, became open laughter.

That afternoon Bill Fraser went home early. By tea time he was drunk and found slumped and dejected within his favourite chair while his son fed himself with bread and jam, before heading into town to meet with his Estate mates.

During the evening there was a storm, bringing with it the first rain for more then a month. The downpour also came with heavy wind, blowing over a huge tree at the top of the main street and another blocking the bridge approach. Many houses lost their roofs and once again flooded through the High School yard, running into the Country Emporium. This time there was little enthusiasm in the placement of sandbags for water diversion.

As for Heather Sutton, the stores proprietor, she had all but given up her business, not recovering from the previous flood. Her stock was now limited and fortunately the flood water was low, restricting further damage but nature’s second attempt brought her to the decision to close and if possible sell the building without the business as a going concern.

The following day the sun shone from a cloudless blue sky, sucking up the previous night’s moisture. Now it was not only hot but sticky, making everybody irritable. At week’s end it was as if it had not rained at all and what relief was given to the town’s water supply and gardens had been lost to evaporation. Frustration became the normal as people attempted to go about what little business remained in the town.

On the Wednesday Jackson’s Shoe Shop opened its doors for the last time. During that morning Tom Jackson offered his stock at half price, by lunch it was down to one quarter. Still failing to move his product, he gave the rest away to those who chanced to pass by his front door. By the weekend Jackson had packed his bags and left town without even a word on his departure. His residence attached to the business remained as it was, fully furnished with a larder and refrigerator well supplied. Then once again the power failed.

That was the week that Herbert’s Greengrocery closed its business, along with Courtney’s Cake Shop and Deli. Soon, it was believed there would be nothing except empty shops along the main street with ghosts of houses across the town. Now even the High and Primary schools began to suffer as families departed and removed their children from school, threatening loss of Teachers and support. In addition to the fire at the High school, it had been suggested some of the senior years could be transferred to Ravenswood and students conveyed daily there by bus, being cheaper than rebuilding classrooms that in the near future would not be used.

That same week Esca and Luke received their first visitor to their new Wilson Street home in the person of Constable Payne, bearing information, or more to fact, lack of information on his Sergeant and the silver bowl. It appeared that at every turn, Barnes either had an excuse or had covered his tracks so well he could not be discovered.

“If it comes to it would you be prepared to be a witness?” Payne asked of Esca, who agreed, enquiring when his statement would be needed.

“May be next week or never, I can’t do much without evidence. I’m afraid in itself his possession of the bowl isn’t enough and I don’t think it to be wise to accuse him outright.”

Payne’s reasoning was accepted, besides since losing his room at the hotel and the break up of Four Kings, Barnes was hardly seen around town, leaving most of the policing to his Constable. On the only occasion Esca chanced upon the Sergeant in the town, Barnes had totally ignored him, looking through him as if he were made of clear glass as he made his way to the Railway Hotel bar. He hadn’t shaved for some time, while his uniform was badly sweat stained. Obvious any sexual desires or revenge he once held for Esca had been dulled by excess alcohol and depression. Giving Esca the opinion it could be cruel to have him arrested, as for Hutton’s demise, maybe it was a service to the town.

A second letter arrived that week from Jack, complaining Esca had not contacted him and to telephone as soon as possible. Esca became quite concerned, thinking his brother may not be well, or had an accident. That night with Luke close behind, he took himself to the telephone box and made the call.

“Hello,” A voice greeted then silence. “Hello, Hello.” It repeated.

“Is that you Jack?” Esca couldn’t recognise his brother’s voice.

“Esca! Hey little brother, I’ll be buggered.” The voice came clear and excited. As for Esca he burst into tears and unable to continue. Luke took control of the receiver and introduced himself.

“Luke I remember you as a little tacker, what you must be fifteen, sixteen by now.” Jack suggested.

“Eighteen.” Luke quickly interjected. Soon Esca regained his composure and took back the receiver.

“What do you think of joining me fencing?” Jack asked at length.

“It sounds good but.” Esca cut himself short.

“But what little brother?”

Esca wished to say he was with Luke but didn’t know how such an admission would be received. There was a long pause, before he decided to throw prudence to the wind and share his life’s preference.

“There are things about me you don’t know.” Esca stated cautiously.

“Like what Esca?”

“I’m sort of living with Luke.” Esca humbly stated feeling somewhat silly with his explanation.

“I know you’re a poof if that’s what you mean. Bring Luke as well.”

“How did you know that?” Esca become most embarrassed.

“I’ve always know it, besides George told me about you and Luke.” Jack didn’t appear to be concerned by the fact.

“It doesn’t worry you?” Esca’s heart jumped, he was being accepted as himself.

“Na where you put it is your business, besides even I tried it a couple of times but wasn’t my thing. You two will have to be careful though they are a pack of red necks up here.”

“I’ll have to talk to Luke about it but I like the idea.” Esca felt a flush of youthful enthusiasm surge through his body as Luke hearing his name spoken demanded information.

“Don’t leave it too long.” Jack concluded.

Once off the telephone Luke eagerly asked what transpired between the brothers. Esca soon shared the news, not leaving out his Uncle’s visit and betrayal of their relationship.

“When are we leaving?” Luke asked without hesitation.

“You want to go?”

“Right now if you want, it will take me five minutes to pack.” Luke skipped ahead in the dark, his excited face shining yellow under the street lighting; his long blond dreadlocks dancing about his head. Esca calmed his friend. There were things to do before they could depart. He would have to speak to Payne and there was his mother. Even if she had all but disowned him, Esca felt obliged to let her know where he was going. Also Luke’s parents, they needed to be told even if Luke didn’t feel inclined to agree.

Esca had penned a letter to his mother. He could have contacted her by telephone but didn’t wish to get into an emotional tangle of blame and desertion. There was nothing he could do about the past, besides his information on Jack would in itself be enough to upset her. She would wish to know where Jack was and a gamut of information he did not possess or have the right to relate. It would be up to his brother to contact their mother in his own time, all he was prepared to tell her was Jack was fine and his approximate whereabouts. Once his correspondence was completed, Esca forced Luke to do likewise to his parents. Luke eventually agreed and a few short sentences later it was finished.

“Is that all you are going to write?” Esca asked peering over his friend’s shoulder as Luke folded the page.

“That’s enough. I’m alright. I’m going bush and with you. That should scatter the pigeons.”

“You are a stirrer ’till the last.” Esca commented.

On the way to the Post Office, the two chanced upon Brett Fraser with his small gang of Estate mates. Luke grabbed at Esca’s arm, causing him to pause.

“Isn’t that the check shirt you gave me for Christmas?” He asserted pointing towards the back of Brett Fraser. Esca agreed it appeared to be similar. Catching up with Brett, Luke placed a firm hand on the lad’s shoulder spinning him around.

“Hey where did you get that shirt?” Luke demanded.

“Fuck off Campbell.” Fraser squealed as Luke sunk his fingers deeper into the kid’s flesh.

“You bloody well stole that from the Brody house.” Luke growled.

“My dad bought it for me.” Fraser protested.

“What two sizes too big and with the same tear near the pocket?” As Luke spoke Fraser broke away from his grasp and with his mates, bolted out of reach. Turning Fraser, as was his trade mark, collected a hand -full of gravel from the road side while hurling it forcefully at Luke, “Fuck you Campbell!” He bellowed in a high pitched undeveloped voice as the stones fell short, before making a dash towards his father’s shop, while his mates bolted in the opposite direction.

“So we now know who broke into mum’s place.” Esca declared.

“I liked that shirt and I bet the old man put him up to it.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll get you another one.” Esca placed an arm around his friend’s shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “We’ll be gone from here soon; I promise.”

With their letters posted, Luke once again became excited with their proposal to travel. He would have gone that very day if Esca hadn’t dampened down his enthusiasm. “So we’ll leave tomorrow.” He suggested as they returned home from posing their letters. He had already planned each step of the way, from cities to visit, to tourist traps, without a thought how they would pay for such a holiday.

“Soon,” Esca laughed in an attempt to settle his friend.

“How soon?”

“Maybe a week or two,” Esca answered calmly.

“Knowing you, you’ll change your mind.” Luke complained.

“Not this time Luke but we will need to finalise a couple of things and as I said I need to speak to Payne.”

“I’ll keep you to that.”

Esca shook his head, “I know you will, come on there’s a sale at Mensland, let’s get you a replacement shirt.”

A small gathering of town’s folk congregated outside the Council Chambers in heated debate with two of the committee, who were chosen by the state to run Council affairs until fresh elections could be arranged.

The officials drew near, their intentions appeasement but the crowd was beyond listening to officialdom. The previous Council had created so much distrust there was little they could say to bring about contentment.

At the top of the crowd’s list of complaints was fire control. Usually there would have been an early season burn of the grass leading into town and a general clean up of undergrowth but this year, with the previous council members being more interested in their own greed than the good of the district, it had not been done.

It was explained that summer was nearing an end. A statement the City Officials made without true knowledge, as in these parts late summer leading into autumn brought unsettled hot weather in the form of dry electrical storms and strong winds. One spark and the entire countryside for tens of kilometres could become an inferno. Now it was much too late in the season to perform a controlled burn.

Being lectured by city strangers about their weather didn’t appease the crowd which became even more raucous, shouting obscenities at the administrators, while moving even closer towards them until within striking distance and much too close for safety. Taking a number of backward steps the two hesitated.

“There will be a general meeting on the twenty-seventh, please retain you questions until then,” the shorter of the two officers shouted over the disorder. His face flushed with tension while stepping closer to the chambers doorway for safety and receiving continued abuse both departed into the chambers, locking the doors behind without speaking further.

Left to their own devices the crowd soon dissipated back to their homes or work but their fear remained. It had been predicted this year there would be an extended summer into autumn and no rain was expected until well into that season.

It was the older folk who feared the most, as their memories took them back to thirty-nine, when there had been many towns destroyed and much loss of life and stock. As for the younger and new arrivals to the district they took little notice of the threat of bush fire. There had been a number of hot threatening summers since that previous catastrophe and the CFA had stepped up to the plate each time, preventing a reoccurrence. In town it was generally considered to be as safe as houses, a little dry grass around the periphery was nothing to concern them. A wet bag and a bucket of water would soon make wast to any threat from there. On the other hand farmers and outlying property owners were less sure and most boisterous on the subject of fire protection, blaming the Greens in the State Parliament, who forced through laws disallowing the burning of undergrowth, or removal of fallen dead trees and branches, they also blamed the members of the Four Kings and their greed and lack of Council integrity.

It was Clem Wilson who spread most concern while enjoying his weekly drink at the Railway Hotel. His property near the Two Mile was tinder dry and lacked any water or fodder, only long dry useless grass, even on his property waist high and with his tractor in pieces unable to mow. If it wasn’t for an artesian bore he had drilled and hand feeding he would have lost most of his stock long ago.

With time on his hands he often crossed his paddocks to investigate the progress of the mine. The management had fenced the entire perimeter with a tall cyclone wire barrier but had done nothing about the dry grass which extended from the mine site, through the fence into Wilson’s property and beyond on all sides, stretching towards the State Forest and a small pine plantation, beyond a dry creek.

What concerned Clem Wilson most of all was the workers lacking in basic duty of care, often releasing welding sparks close to the dry grass and in patches there were burnt areas where the grass had caught but extinguished before losing control. Wilson had spoken to some of the welders about his fears, who abrasively told him, it wasn’t to do with them and if he had a problem talk to management in the city. Now all he could do was give fair warning to anyone in town who wished to listen.

On the Wednesday the temperature soared well past forty, with a hot breeze blowing in from the west. In the afternoon a grass fire was sighted east of town, believed started by a passing traveller discarding a cigarette from a vehicle window. The fire’s front was quite small, following the eastern highway around ten kilometres from town and bordered by an area that had already been burnt.

Volunteers were asked for by the CFA, so as the station was close by and with time on their hands, both Esca and Luke offered assistance. They followed the brigade trucks to the site of the fire and were issued with wet bags to kill the fire front. After less than half an hour the fire was controlled and in no danger of spreading, leaving on single rotting tree trunk smouldering. With the trucks low on water, David George, a younger member of the crew unzipped his trousers and commenced to piss on the dull embers of the burning stump, while humorously inviting the others to do likewise. Soon there was a circle of a good dozen young fellows all dangling their private bits towards the embers in joyous relief until their bladders were emptied and the embers extinguished. Luke was one of the first to join in the jollity, inviting Esca to join them but he remained with the older men on the sideline, enjoying the view, as steam rose profusely from the hissing angry coals.

“What do you think of that?” George asked Esca as he passed, offering a cheeky smirk.

“You’re a cleaver boy.” Esca answered as Luke joined them.

“I told you anyone could piss it out.” George concluded, leaving to attend to his truck. With the fire extinguished, the crew and volunteers returned to town, most pleased with their afternoon’s success.

“I think it’s about time we packed our stuff and left.” Esca predicted while crossing the bridge back into town. Luke agreed, he also felt the primeval threat as it hung in the air all around the country side. Unspoken but always there, displaying its warning to anyone who cared to take notice but once home it was the heat that took their attention, driving them to the pub for a cold beer.

Arriving at the Royal Hotel they found the air conditioner and lights off. “Power’s gone again.” The barman called as they entered into the darkness of the bar. As the pumps were not working, they would have to drink bottled beer.

Inside the atmosphere seemed cool because of the darkness and from the hosing down of the footpath under the pub’s verandah. The barman was about to give the footpath a second hosing when Constable Payne arrived, reminding there were water restrictions. He immediately received ribbing from the few men at the bar but the heat soon took away their calls.

“Come in Warren and I’ll shout you a drink.” Graham Stone beckoned from deep inside the bar.

“Thank you Graham I’m still on duty.” Payne declined politely.

“You’re not bloody Barnes, that’s for sure; he wouldn’t need to be asked twice.” A second voice unrecognised by Payne came from behind Stone. The Constable peered into the dimness of the bar but didn’t reply. As he moved away Payne encountered Esca and Luke, both acknowledged the constable and entered.

“Its young Esca Brody, isn’t it?” Stone asked, spotting the two new arrivals. “Who’s that with you, – Luke Campbell? Are you old enough to be in here?” Stone commented. Luke assured him he was.

“Hey Esca where’s your Jack these days?” Stone asked.

“Fencing up in Queensland,” Esca answered.

“Damn good bloke that Jack, when you see him say hello for me.”

“Sure thing Graham.”

Gary would appreciate your thoughts on his story. Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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