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The second rocket slammed into the hillside behind the house. I’m not sure if it was meant for the shearing sheds or not. It didn’t miss us by much. It hit the hill so hard the whole range seemed to quiver; there was a pause, then the explosion, and a moment later a whole section of the hill just fell away.
The jet turned steeply and did a circuit above the river paddock, so they could watch and enjoy the show I suppose. Then it turned again and accelerated into the distance, back to its foul lair.
Corrie was on the floor, hiccupping, and thrashing around like a fish on a line. Her pupils had rolled back so far into her head that you couldn’t see them any more. Nothing would calm her. We became frightened. Homer ran and got a bucket of water. We splashed some in her face. It seemed to calm her a bit. I picked up the whole bucket and tipped the water over her head. She stopped hiccupping and just sobbed, her head on her knees, her hands clasped around her ankles, water dripping off her. We dried her and hugged her, but it was hours before she calmed enough even to look at us. We just had to stay there and wait, hoping the planes would not come back, hoping they would not send soldiers in trucks. Corrie would not move, and we could not move until she did.
Chapter Ten
With the coming of night Corrie seemed to regather some reason, to be able to understand and to whisper back to us. Her voice was lifeless though, and when we got her up and walking she moved like an old lady. We had her wrapped in blankets from the shearers’ beds and we knew that we would never get her on a bike. So at dusk Homer and Kevin took the Toyota and drove to Kevin’s, bringing back the Ford and the Toyota. Homer still thought it important to leave the Toyota at Corrie’s, to make it look as though we hadn’t used it. He was hoping that they’d think we were blown up in the house. ‘After all, they may not even be sure that anyone was here,’ he argued. ‘They may have just seen a movement in the house, or Flip might have made them suspicious.’
Homer had an ability to put himself into the minds of the soldiers, to think their thoughts and to see through their eyes. Imagination, I suppose it’s called.
I went looking for Flip, but there was no trace of her. If she’d survived the explosion she was probably still ru
The two boys came back at about ten. We’d been nervous while they were away; we’d come to depend on each other so much already. But at last the cars came lurching slowly up the driveway, dodging around pieces of wreckage. It was easy to tell that Homer was driving the Toyota. He wasn’t much of a driver.
We had another argument then though, when Homer said that we had to go through with the original plans, including separating into two groups. Corrie had been bad enough when the boys had gone to get the cars. But now, at the thought of Homer and me going into Wirrawee, into what she feared was dangerous territory, she sobbed and clung to me and pleaded with Homer. But he wouldn’t back down.
‘We can’t just crawl under the bed and stay there till this is over,’ he said to her. ‘We’ve made a lot of mistakes today, and we’ve paid a hell of a price. But we’ll learn. And we’ve got to get Lee and Robyn back. You want them back, don’t you?’
That was the only argument that seemed to work, a little. While she was thinking about it, Kevin got her into the Ford. Then he and Fi hopped in either side of her; we said quick goodbyes and mounted our bikes, for the ride to Wirrawee.
I can’t pretend I was keen to go. But I knew we were the right ones to do it. And I wanted to spend more time with this new Homer, this interesting and clever boy whom I’d known but not known for so many years. Since our trip to Hell I’d been getting quite interested in Lee, but a few hours away from him, and in Homer’s company instead, were making a difference.
I remember going to the meatworks once with Dad for some reason, and while he talked business with the manager I watched the animals being driven up the ramp to the killing floor. What I’d never forgotten was the sight of two steers half way up the ramp, just a couple of minutes away from death, but one still trying to mount the other. I know it’s a crude comparison, but that’s a bit the way we were. ‘In the midst of death we are in life.’ We were in the middle of a desperate struggle to stay alive, but here was I, still thinking about boys and love.
After we’d been riding silently for a few minutes Homer came up beside me to ride two abreast. ‘Hold my hand Ellie,’ he said. ‘Can you ride one-handed?’
‘Sure.’
We went like that for a k or two, nearly colliding half a dozen times, then had to let go so we could make more speed. But we talked a bit, not about bombs and death and destruction, but about stupid little things. Then we played Categories, to pass the time.
‘Name four countries starting with B, by the time we get to the turn-off.’
‘Oh help. Brazil, Belgium. Britain, I suppose. Um. Bali? Oh! Bolivia! OK, your turn, five green vegetables, before we pass that telegraph pole.’
‘Cabbage, broccoli, spinach. Slow down. Oh, peas and beans of course. Now, five breeds of dog, by the signpost.’
‘Easy. Corgis, Labradors, German shepherds, border collies, heelers. Right, here’s a Greek one. Name three types of olives.’
‘Olives! I wouldn’t know one type!’
‘Well there are three. You can get green ones, you can get black ones, or you can get stuffed.’ He laughed so much he nearly ran off the road.
At the five k sign we started getting serious again, keeping to the edge, staying quiet, Homer riding two hundred metres behind me. I like taking charge – that’s no secret – and I think Homer had had enough for a while. Approaching each curve I’d get off and walk to it, then wave Homer up if the road was clear. We passed the ‘Welcome’ sign, then the old church, and were into what Homer called the suburbs of Wirrawee. As the population of Wirrawee would barely fill a block of flats in the city, the idea of suburbs was another Homer joke. The closer we got to Robyn’s, the more tense I became. I was so worried about her and Lee, had been missing them so much, was so scared at the prospect of any more confrontations with soldiers. So much had happened during the day that there’d hardly been time to think of Robyn and Lee, except to say to myself the trite and obvious things, ‘I wonder where they are. I hope they’re there tonight. I hope they’re OK.’
They were true thoughts though, for all that they were trite and obvious.
The last k to Robyn’s we moved very very carefully, walking the bikes and ready to jump at anything, the movement of a branch in the breeze, the clatter of a falling strip of bark from a gum, the cry of a night bird. We got to the front gate and looked up the drive. The house was silent and dark.
‘I can’t remember,’ Homer whispered. ‘Did we say we’d meet at the house or on the hill at the back?’
‘On the hill, I think.’
‘I think so too. Let’s check there first.’
We left the bikes hidden behind a berry bush near the front gate, and detoured around the house, through the long grass. I was still in front, moving as quietly as I could, except for a couple of surprises – like bumping into a wheelbarrow and falling painfully over a tall sprinkler. After the ride-on mower at Mrs Alexander’s that had got Corrie I began to wonder if anyone ever put anything away. But I couldn’t see any hope of converting the wheelbarrow or the sprinkler into weapons. Maybe we could turn the sprinkler on and wet the enemy? I giggled at the idea, and got a startled look from Homer.
‘Enjoying this are you?’ he whispered.