Dusk brought a noisy kookaburra to the tree above Damien. He sat straddling a huge gum trunk that bridged the creek, throwing stones into the shallow water below. The bird stopped every now and then and cocked its head as if listening for a reply, but all around was silence. After two more bouts of cackling din, it flew off, and peace descended once more. The air was becoming chilly as the sky darkened, but he didn’t want to go back to the cabin just yet. It was beautiful here. He’d first heard of this place from his mum. She travelled a lot before she married. And he could imagine her here as a younger woman in her flowing hippy skirts and singlets. She loved being outdoors. He swallowed hard and remembered her funeral. Damien had been Lily Schwartz’s favourite child. He was the youngest of six and born just before his father left them to return to America. Damien could feel the resentment of his siblings as he stood by her coffin, except his sister April. She gave him a pat on the shoulder, a sad smile, and walked away. He leaned close to his mother and sniffed. There was nothing. She’d always smelled like Brazil nuts, not that she ever ate them. There was something in the oil of her skin or something that gave her that unique odour. It wasn’t an unpleasant scent. When he was little, he’d loved it. But now, like her, it was gone.
The pastor had hardly finished talking when arguments broke out about who was taking what from the estate. The quarrels carried on during the small wake held at Lily’s Oakley home. He’d looked out the window as the first car pulled away. It was April. She wouldn’t be able to put up with their sxxx. Damien was staying in what was once the bedroom that he’d shared with Troy, his brother. It was the only room that had remained untouched. All the other areas of the house were being evacuated of furniture and possessions. Out on the street, car boots and back seats were laden with stuff. There was even a ute with a trailer, piled high with Lily’s things. Damien took a long drink of his mum’s Bacardi and sighed.
Lily would have been hurt and angry to see these avaricious arseholes she’d raised. She wasn’t even in her grave yet. ‘Hey, bro, you’re quiet.’ ‘G’day Troy. It’s a sad day.’ ‘Well yeah, but she’d been sick for a long time. It wasn’t some big surprise.’ Troy might have been trying to guilt-trip him, but Damien wasn’t falling for it. ‘That’s not what I mean. It’s a sad day when you lot have all turned into a bunch of vultures.’ ‘Well, it’s hardly me causing problems! If Evie thinks she’s going to get the house just because she nursed mum at the end, she’s got another think coming.’ Troy sneered in the direction of the kitchen where voices were still raised. ‘Why not? She did all the work. She cared for mum when you were all too busy. If you’d had to pay a nursing home to do it, there’d be nothing left.’ Troy glared at Damien.
‘And why should you even have an opinion? You’ve never been around for any of us. Half the time you aren’t even in the country. Remind me again what it is you do exactly? Last I heard you got chucked out of the army, and not even the Aussie army. No, you had to be just like Dad, didn’t you, a Navy bloody SEAL. Well whoopty-doo! My...hero. But you are just like Dad. You run off and don’t give a sxxx about anyone else. I’m surprised the old man isn’t here with his hand held out.’ Damien didn’t move fast, but he used his bulk to pin Troy against the wall. Then he grasped both of his brother’s wrists and began to twist them. Troy tolerated it for a second or two, but they both heard the bones creak. ‘Stop it. Let me go!’ But Damien didn’t let go. ‘You talk about the old man like that again and you’ll be joining Mum. You don’t know him. You never bothered to meet him as an adult. So, don’t go spouting crap. Next time it will be your little neck, and I will break it.’ Troy ran to the door clutching his arms, his face red and snotty. ‘You’re a fxxxing madman! I hate you.’
Damien finished his drink and poured another. From the kitchen Troy’s high-pitched whining had halted the bickering, but Damien knew it would start again. He took his drink and a handful of sandwiches to his room. He found an old Pantera CD and played it at full volume, wondering if any of his siblings would have the guts to tell him to turn it down. No one did. The next morning the sounds of the suburbs had started early. It was Monday morning, and the traffic rose to a loud hum by seven. Damien was making a coffee when the garbage truck chugged up the street, stopping and starting with the grind of the engine, the hiss of the brakes, the thud of the bins. His siblings had left by around ten the previous night, and it was good to see them go.
His phone chirped, and a text message came through from April. Are you all right? Damien smiled. She was the only one who cared. He replied that he was fine and was going on a holiday for a couple of weeks. Lily had kept her car keys hanging inside a kitchen cupboard for as long as he remembered. Things could have changed while Evie was in charge. He swallowed the last of his brew and opened the door. They were hanging where they had always been. He took a last look around. Next time he came back to Melbourne, if he ever did, this place would be sold. With a shrug of his shoulders he left. The care home was only one block back from the beach. That time of day it was busy. Cleaners and carers disposing of linen and cleaning rooms, nurses following around medication trolleys, and the smells of cooking as breakfast was prepared was just part of the morning routine. No one had noticed Damien as he ducked into George’s room. Inside it was dark and quiet. The last time Damien visited, George was still hooked up to beeping monitors, but this time only an IV line pump, making a tiny clicking sound as the fluid was pushed through, was the only noise. Damien thought about opening the blind, but instead turned on the overhead reading light. The bed by the door was empty. George had been shifted to the one by the window. ‘Jesus, mate, you look like shit.’ George’s skin looked maggoty white. It clung to his thin face, which was little more than a skull. There was a feeding tube in situ. Damien wasn’t sure if that stayed in all the time or if someone was coming to give his friend breakfast. ‘Can’t stay, mate. I just came to say, “See ya.” I’m off on a bit of break. I think I need it.’ He looked down at his hands, aware that he was probably talking to himself. ‘Mum died. We buried her yesterday.’ He gazed at the chink of light beaming from the window. ‘I guess everyone is dying.’ George was so still Damien had to watch his chest to see if he still breathed. ‘Not much of a life for you like this, is it, old buddy?’ He slapped his knees and stood. ‘Well, I better get going. Not sure where I’m headed, but I won’t get there if I stand around all day talking to you.’ He laughed weakly at his own joke and flicked off the light. ‘Bye, mate.’
As he opened the door to leave, a doctor and two nurses were about to come in. The doctor looked taken aback. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked. ‘Do you know this patient?’ ‘Yeah,’ Damien mumbled. ‘He’s my mate...
~~~
Damien and George had been mates, fighting and killing along side each other until they...were... not... Now, the doctors were talking about how long his mate might live, but they were happy to have learned, at least, who he was... Damien? He couldn't or just didn't want to hang around to see somebody else close to him die--the death of his Mum had been enough for bringing back bad family memories that still haunted, even while his siblings loaded up her possessions, hurriedly, wanting to get as much as possible before the other one got more than they did... Typical family death for many across the world...
But Damien and George had at one time been Seals. A name that garnered respect for their training and skills that few matched... But, now? Damien just wanted to get to some place isolated, quiet... Did he guess, though, that somebody was following him? Had he killed one too many men who really weren't the enemy? Where could he go to find just a little peace?
Sienna Nilson was in the midst of a major storm brewing, possibly a tornado, but she really didn't have time to stop and evaluate what to do about a storm. She had to get back to her farm, to her sheep who would be frightened by the thunder and lightning... Soon she was regretting her decision...her cruiser was being thrown across the road side to side by the wind...and up ahead power lines could go any minute! Her car was being thrown around as if a giant was using her vehicle to practice pitching... Until... suddenly...
It was calm again. The tornado had gone through, but there were still power lines dangerously down on the road... She sat, calming, when suddenly she could see lights! A another car was coming straight for the downed lines! She started blowing her horn and flicking her lights off and on, and finally seeing the driver realized what could happen...and started braking, finally, just inches before the car and trailer with an entire family... The story was soon all over the area. Sienna was now a hero as the father told how he could have lost his entire family, if Sienna hadn't acted as she had...
And all Sienna wanted to do was to get back home and see what kind of damage had been done there. While at the same time somewhere nearby, Damien had met a beautiful woman at a bar and both had decided to spend some private time alone...both parting happily with a morning kiss... Thing is, they found that lovely lady dead the next morning...
And Lisa was a friend of Sienna, who had just met Damien and was now thinking he might have killed her friend... Damien? He was beginning to think he knew exactly what was going on...and it might get worse... And the problem was that Damien needed Sienna's help because of her knowledge of the area and possible places somebody might be hiding/ living...
Way back when I getting ready to graduate high school, I thought about traveling away from home... I picked Australia--it was English-speaking (mostly) and I knew my secretarial skills would land me a job most anywhere... Well, that was a pipedream that flew right out of mind, as I actually did graduate and got a job that same July at West Virginia University near my home...
So, even if I never made it there, I've enjoyed stories set in the country down under, like Crocodile Dundee's two movies and this story. It is uniquely well written, keeping readers guessing exactly what is happening...and who is involved! Well done, Pam Farley. This one is highly recommended just for the fun of the storyline! Right, Mates?
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