- Jimmy stopped by the shop today
- we haven't seen them for a while. How's Barb?
- Not good. Her drugs are harder and harder to get. They can't afford to buy from a pharmacist.
(silence)
- He was wondering if I could help him repair his water heater
- On company power? He must know the risk!
- He's desperate, love. Without the water heater, it'll be well-nigh impossible for him to make sure their drinking water's clean. Barbara's weak -- one bug this winter could finish her.
- But what is he thinking -- that her drugs will be easier to come by next year?
- Well, he's not thinking too straight, but I guess he's still hoping for some money to come in from his shares and bonds -- cents in the dollar, I reckon, if at all -- and who knows when -- what with the lawyers and politicians getting in on it...
- Damn it. He should've listened to us years ago when we said to get out.
(silence)
- I know, I know -- we didn't make all the right calls either. But no one saw the Indonesian crisis coming
- I'm just thankful we're in good health and the boys have jobs
- Yeah, but I'm worried about those political leaflets Robbie's brought over. Spells trouble to me
- Robbie's ok -- he's got a good head on his shoulders. He won't fall in with the Reverters. I'm thinking of trying to help Jimmy.
- Oh love, don't. We're going ok here. Just, but ok. But if we didn't have your income, I don't know what we'd do. Also, have you seen the sentences they've been handing out recently? I wouldn't be surprised at a labour-camp sentence for something like that.
- Oh, do you mean it? I haven't been to the post office for a while -- I'm out of touch. I don't know what I can do, then -- we're barely above water as it is, I don't see how we can give them money.
(sighs)
- oh... love, it's ok. Hey.... Hey..... c'mon....
(silence)
- We'll think of something. You don't need to take those kinds of risks. What if they come and stay with us for a while? They'd save their rent money, and we'd all save on cooking fuel. They could even sell their heater for parts, or we could keep it to help fix ours when we need to. That money would help Barb buy meds, and would take the pressure off us all. Barb can't do much right now, but she knows a lot of gardening and medical stuff. That'd be good knowledge too.
- I guess it would be possible. But how could it work?
- Well, they could share Sam's bed. Jimmy and Barb are little and would easily fit. Sam and Robbie would share a bed, top-to-tail -- just like in National Service. They're steady lads, and would pitch-in to help a mate
- It's so unjust. Robby is the hardest working guy I know. Best damn engineer too -- no one can tear down a Stirling like he can. I think he got fired 'cause he's a Hindu. What the hell is this country coming too? We need guys like him.
- Calm down love, Let's share a smoke. One thing at a time. What do you think of my plan -- think it would work?
- Maybe... ahh, that's good stuff.... I'll talk to Jimmy -- maybe we can go to theirs for a cuppa and chat about it...
* * *
Slowly, the light faded. It was almost imperceptible: one could be forgiven for thinking that it wasn't getting darker at all and that the red-gold face of the sun would remain visible there forever, bathing them in its evening glow. But it was only 20 minutes ago that he could see the swallows flitting in the sky, where now there were only stars.
The gloom brought silence. His thoughts fled this way and that. Jimmy was an old friend, from his apprentice days. A Hindu. He didn't care at all about the man's views of the cosmos, or that he was half Indian and half normal, mongrel, Australian. The Reverters, though, cared.
-They don't have much power. But which way are things going? Are we making trouble for ourselves at some future date if we take them in?
The thought appalled him, feelings of guilt and unworthiness bubbled within him like a hot mud spring. It was a thought he'd had before, since he had become aware, as a teenager, that his compatriot had some of his roots in different soil with the consequent different awareness and presuppositions that entailed. It was a strain on the friendship -- a vine that had hidden in his belly for so long that is was only aware of its presence when it pulled. He wondered whether Jimmy was aware of it. For his part, he acknowledged his natural tendency for bigotry, and acted to compensate. He wanted to be a good person and he liked Jimmy, but he saw which way the wind was blowing.
She was fine, friends even, with Jimmy and Barb -- he'd never seen any forcing there. He'd never spoken to her or Jimmy about this. Didn't know where to start. She was a good woman. Had been a high-flyer. She had adapted well to a life at home. There weren't too many paper-based jobs these days.
- Hell, there aren't too many jobs these days -- I was lucky, having a trade
It was adaptable, meant he could get work in the solar heater factory. They had a special deal with the government that meant they had priority access to electricity and gas. In the daytime only, of course. That meant that they could weld and use machinery. It was good work, and it kept the roof over their heads. He was grateful.
He was grateful, too, that they had installed a grid connected solar system at their home, back when they were affordable. The government had requisitioned much of what they produced, but it meant they could use a kilowatt hour or two each day, while they were producing. They had to be very careful, though, because any power they pulled from the grid would cost them dearly. They learnt that the hard way, when they left a pot simmering one winter's evening after the sun went down. That meant a few weeks of dried beans and stale bread until they paid off the emergency loan. That was close. Since then they paid an electrician to switch off the grid so that their solar power still flowed out, but no power could flow in.
He looked at her. She was going grey now, and her hours in the scalding sunshine showed. The skin on the backs of her hands was thin, and there was ingrained dirt in the callouses of her fingers. They could rarely get properly clean -- soap had to last, and hot water was limited, especially in winter. What she had said about the news rattled him.
- I must make the effort to go to the internet kiosk at the post office. Dull as it is, I need to know what's happening
God knows, they didn't live in a bubble. The outside world went on, with its own agenda. He used to feel in control. A man in the world: agency embodied in flesh, limbs strong and straight and true. No more did he feel that way. These days, he woke up aching: body crying for rest -- rest that was unforthcoming. Was it just age? This wasn't a conversation he'd had with his sons, who were more than twenty years his junior. He still felt, even now, that he needed to set an example, help them to be strong -- he knew their life would be harder than his and the bitterness ate at him. But he never let on
- Listen, the magpies are warbling
- Yes dad, we are lucky
They said that as teenagers. They believed it too: still did. And in a big way, they were right -- they would work hard and die young, probably, but they also lacked the distractions that had eaten so many other lives. But he had feelings of fraud, as though he was some relic of a former time and didn't belong here. The waters of the world had parted, flowing around him and on -- leaving him behind. He could speak the language, but the subtle undertones and unspoken assumptions were lost on him. He couldn't love what they loved and want what they wanted. He couldn't help but miss what he no longer had.
He spoke, his quiet voice seeming loud in the dark silence:
- It's August in a couple of weeks, and it's getting warm. On my August Sunday off, let's hire some bicycles for the day. We can ride to the beach and spend the day there -- we'll have a beach holiday.
- That's a great idea love. If we go without our Sunday meat between now and then, that should cover the hire and a nice picnic. It'll be fun.
(silence, she squeezed his hand and smiled in the darkness)
