Chapter 16
Mackenzie
“There’s a heat wave coming.”
Several weeks later, I was standing in the kitchen, making everyone coffees, when Troy gave the weather report in ominous tones.
“How long?” Charlie asked, like a woman being given a death sentence.
I walked closer, carrying four mugs at a time, then Troy looked up when I set down an extra strong one for him. No smile, that told me how serious this was, but he dragged me down onto his lap, then consulted with the phone in his free hand.
“45 degrees on Tuesday—” he started to say.
“How long?”
Charlie didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she pulled out her own phone, everyone now staring at their screens.
“Seven days…” All the good humour was stripped from Billy’s voice. “Seven freaking days?”
“Bushfire for sure.”
As Bronson sat back, arms firmly crossed, I felt a thrill of fear tear up my spine.
Growing up where I did, nothing caught people’s attention like a wildfire warning.
Bigger, hotter fires tore through our valley every year now, it felt.
We’d seen the burned-out husks of our neighbours’, our friends’, places and my brain couldn’t, wouldn’t reconcile those scenes of destruction with the farm here.
“Bushfire… But the farm,” I said. “The animals. The rescue.”
“The modelling suggested it was going to go this way, but today was the day the Bureau of Meteorology confirmed the numbers,” Troy said. “Which means we’ve got three days to get as much prep done as possible. There will be absolutely no slacking off.”
“Fuck, Troy,” Billy said. “You don’t have to tell us twice.”
“Billy, you and Scotty can get up on the roofs of the houses and other buildings and make sure there’s not a damn leaf in the guttering,” Troy said.
“Got it, boss,” Scotty said with a sharp nod.
“Bronson—”
“I’m checking the stock containment fields,” he said with a grim frown. “Making sure the troughs are filling properly and moving feed down closer.”
“We’re gonna have to bring the stock into the containment fields tomorrow,” Troy said, then sighed.
“Won’t get caught out once the heat starts to bite.
Hasn’t been enough rain lately and all it takes is for some idiot to throw his cigarette out his window or a piece of broken glass to heat up and a fire will start.
We’ll be herding every animal in closer for the next few days. ”
“I’ll be putting water out in the forests,” Charlie said, glaring at each one of her brothers as if expecting a fight. “And checking for heat-affected animals. Need to coordinate with the vet’s and the local wild care group, see what the plan is.”
“So I’ll help you with that, Charlie?” I asked, which was the point where everyone went quiet.
“Might be a good time to head for the city.” I turned around, blinking at Troy’s words. He didn’t seem happy about what he was saying, but he forged on. “We could put you up in a hotel there. Just for a week.”
My throat felt like it was closing up. I’d spent week after week finding my place on this farm and the minute things got hard, Troy wanted to relegate me to the city?
“If I wanted to hang out in a city, I’d have stayed in LA,” I told him. “If it’s going to get that bad—”
“It’ll be bad.” Billy scrubbed at his face. “It’s only the depth that varies. The city’s the safest place for ya, Macca.”
“But not for you.” I scanned the table. “Not for any of you or the animals.” My lungs felt like they seized in my chest, somehow already able to smell smoke. “I can help.”
Everyone started to speak at once, but Troy turned me around to face him.
“What would help is knowing you’re safe and away from all this shit. The days are going to be insanely long and hot and dry. The winds will start.”
“Fucking northerlies…” Billy muttered.
“There’ll be no relief at night,” Troy continued in his best ‘be reasonable’ tone. “It’ll stay up in the 30s. This old house…” His eyes flicked up to take in the ceiling. “It’s good at keeping warmth in, not releasing it, and—”
“I’m staying.” My heart was beating far too fast, as if to question what I was thinking. “I’m staying, Troy.”
He shook his head, making me think I had a fight on my hands, but then he smiled up at me.
“Shouldn’t let you, but…” A kiss was pressed to my forehead. “It’d be nice to fall into bed at the end of the day and know you’re there.”
“Urggh…” Billy groaned theatrically.
“But you will listen to me. That’s non-negotiable. If things get hairy, I need to know you’ll do as you’re told and evacuate with Charlie.”
“You mean when we all evacuate.”
He stared me down, that same damn mulish expression back, but Bronson cleared his throat, breaking the stalemate.
“She’s got you there, Troy. Generations of Drysdales might’ve lived on this farm, but it doesn’t mean we have to die on it.”
“Fine…” Troy picked me up and set me down on my feet, pressing a kiss to my lips before downing his coffee. “Well, everyone knows what they’re supposed to be doing…”
So now we were doing it.
Charlie and I were in the big 4WD ute, bouncing along a bush track as we made our way deeper into the bush.
“Here,” she said, looking up, and sure enough, there were several koalas up high in the treetops.
The woman seemed to know instinctively where they were.
I was up and out of the car, a bag of containers and water bottles over my arm.
Setting the plastic ice cream container down, I placed a smooth rock in the bottom, then half filled it with water before getting back into the car.
Charlie marked it on the map so we’d know where each container was and could come back and clean it, then add more water.
“It’s hard to think of a bushfire coming through here,” I said, scanning the forest. We passed tree after massive eucalyptus tree. The forest floor was covered in a thick layer of dead leaves. The sound of the car, cicadas buzzing, and a few bird calls were all I could hear.
“Has before.” Charlie was uncharacteristically grim as she pointed to the dark ring around several tree trunks.
“Will again. A lot of native plants, their seeds don’t germinate without a fire going through but…
The way the old fellas tell it, the local Aboriginal people used to do a lot more burn offs around this region in the spring when the trees and the soil still have a lot of moisture in them.
Cooler burns that reduced fuel load, but didn’t spread far… ”
She shook her head sharply.
“Not like that anymore. Less rain.” Charlie eyed the small slices of depressingly blue sky that popped up between the trees. “Hotter days and more of them and not enough burn offs to reduce the fuel load.”
I saw the leaf litter in new light now, easily able to imagining it catching alight. The leaves were a thick carpet, crunching underfoot as I put out another container of water, then another. The release of volatile oils reminded me of home just a little.
“Maybe a fire won’t break out,” I said as I clambered back into the car. “Maybe everything will be fine.”
“We’ll see,” she said, then drove on.
Once we finished our loop, we ended back at the rescue, only for Nugget to join us.
He came trotting across the ground, the scab on his head well and truly healed now and the wombat didn’t seem to bear any grudges.
Running over to the rescue door, he bunted his head against it until we opened it up.
“Want to be in here when I run the sprinklers, don’t you, ya daft animal,” Charlie said, turning on the irrigation system.
Sprinklers sent a fine mist of water through the treetops, helping to cool the place down and keep the trees and ground damp.
We both watched the wombat race around in circles, seeming to frolic in the artificial rain.
Which summoned the other animals forward.
“It’s not dinner time yet…” she grumbled, then smiled as the animals drew near before turning to me. “Not that I can argue with this unruly mob. We can feed the critters now, then get a start on dinner.”
I’d already promised to make a big pot of chilli. Filling, hearty, and full of protein, it was good hot or cold and the perfect thing for long, busy days.
“You got it, boss,” I said, opening the fridge to pull out ingredients, so why did my hands shake as I began to cut up pieces of vegetables?
Because staring into the big brown eyes of the kangaroos, then hearing the impatient pecks of the magpies, my knife moved faster.
When the possums clambered over my shoulders, weighing me down, that made sense.
They were reliant on us to care for them, protect them, and right now I understood why Troy wanted me to go to the city for a week.
If I could’ve packed all the animals up and taken them with me, I would’ve gone.
Anything to keep them safe.
We’d do whatever it took to protect the animals inside the rescue from any wildfire. That vow had me glancing over at the rescue walls and peering past the mesh. But what would keep the wild animals safe? I couldn’t answer that, so I kept on chopping vegetables.