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Homer said, ‘It’s true that some of those old blokes around Wirrawee, the retired miners, keep a few ferrets and live on the rabbits. They haven’t got a quid to rub between them, so that’s how they keep themselves in meat.’
There, you see?’ said Kevin, sitting back on his heels.
It was quite a smart idea. I didn’t know much about them either, except that you needed nets which you put over all the holes and the rabbits ran into them and were caught. And although there wouldn’t be many rabbits up here in the mountains, there was never any shortage of them around the district.
Then Chris threw a fly into the ointment. ‘Wouldn’t they all be dead?’ he asked. ‘The ferrets? If their owners are prisoners, or dead, there’d be no one to look after the ferrets and keep them alive.’
Kevin looked smug. ‘Ordinarily, yes,’ he said. ‘But my uncle, the one out past the Stratton turn-off, lets them run free. He’s got heaps of them and he’s trained them to come in when he whistles. They’re like dogs. They know they’ll get food when they hear that signal. He loses a few of them that go feral, but he’s got so many he doesn’t care.’
We added ferrets to our list of things to get, do, or investigate.
‘Let’s grab some sleep,’ Homer said then, standing and stretching and yawning. ‘Maybe Ellie could run another guided tour to the Hermit’s hut after lunch, for those wishing to partake of this unique and interesting historical experience. Then I vote we have a Council of War later this afternoon, to work out our next move.’
‘Well, you’re the Minister for Defence,’ I said.
Chapter Eighteen
The Minister for Defence was sitting on a rock with his feet in the creek. Kevin actually lay in the cold water, letting it run over his big hairy body. Fi was perched above Homer’s head on another rock, looking like a little goddess. She was so light I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her suddenly grow rainbow-coloured wings and flutter away. Robyn was lying on her back on the bank, reading My Brilliant Career. Chris was a few metres from me, under a tree, his smokes beside him.
I don’t know whether I should really call them his smokes though.
He was gazing at the big rocky cliffs that we could see through the trees, in the distance.
Corrie was sitting next to Robyn. She had her radio out again. They’d brought fresh batteries that they’d found in Wirrawee and she was trying them. One of the women they’d talked to had said that some pirate radio stations were on the air at times, giving news and advice. Corrie was checking the short wave bands too, but it would be hard to get them in daytime, and we weren’t in an easy place for radio reception.
I was curled up into Lee, my head in his chest, burrowing into him like I was a baby. We’d spent most of the afternoon passionately holding and kissing and touching till I felt I would fall apart; as though the fibres that held my body together were disappearing. It had been Homer whom I’d felt more physically attracted to. Originally what drew me to Lee was his mind, his intelligent, sensitive face, and the security that I felt with him. Homer didn’t exactly radiate security. But beneath Lee’s calm exterior I’d found someone deeply passionate. I was a virgin and I know Lee was; matter of fact I think we all were, except maybe Kevin. I’m pretty sure he and Sally Noack had done the dirty deed regularly when they’d had a long relationship last year. But if we’d had the privacy that hot afternoon in the clearing in Hell I think Lee and I might have lost our virginity simultaneously. I was clinging to him and pressing against him as though I wanted to get my whole body inside him, and I liked the way I could make him groan and gasp and sweat. I liked giving him pleasure, although it was hard to tell what was pleasure and what was pain. I was teasing him, touching him and saying ‘Does that hurt? Does that? Does that?’ and he was panting, saying ‘Oh God ... no, yes, no’. It made me feel powerful. But he got his revenge. I’m not sure who had the last laugh – or the last cry. Normally when I’m out of control, when I get swept off by the white water, whether it’s the giggles or the blues or one of my famous tantrums, I can still stand outside myself and smile and think ‘What a maniac’. Part of my mind stays detached, can watch what I’m doing, can think about it and be aware of it all. But that afternoon with Lee, no. I was lost somewhere in the rapids of my feelings. If life is a struggle against emotion, then I was losing. It was almost scary. I was actually relieved when Homer yelled that it was time to start our conference.
I said to Robyn, ‘Good book?’
She said, ‘Yeah, it’s OK. We’ve got to read it for English.’
We still hadn’t adjusted to the fact that the world had changed, that school wasn’t going to start on the normal day. I suppose we should have been delighted at the thought of not going to school, but we weren’t. I was starting to want to use my brain again; to wrestle with new ideas and difficult theories. I decided then that I’d follow Robyn’s example and read some of the harder books we’d brought with us. There was one called The Scarlet Letter that looked like a good tough one.
‘Well,’ Homer began, ‘we’ve got to make more decisions guys. I’ve been looking up at the sky every five minutes, waiting for the American troops to drop down in their big green choppers, but there’s no sign of them yet. And Corrie hasn’t heard any news flashes yet, to tell us that help is on its way. So we might just have to do it on our own for a bit longer.
‘The way I see it, these are our choices, now that we know a bit more about the deal. One, we can sit tight and do nothing. And there’s nothing chicken about that. It’s got a lot to recommend it. We’re not trained for this stuff, and it’s important for ourselves, and for our families, and for that matter even our country, that we stay alive. Two, we can have a go at getting our families and maybe other people out of the Showground. That’s a tough one, probably way beyond our reach. I mean, we’ve got rifles and shotguns but they’d be popguns compared to what these turkeys are using. Three, we can do something else to help the good guys. That’s us, I might add, in case anyone’s confused.’ He gri
‘So, that’s the deal, that’s for real, that’s what I feel. Three choices, and I think it’s time we made one and stuck to it.’ He leaned back and crossed his arms and put his feet in the water again.
There was quite a silence, then Robyn took up the invitation.
‘I’m still not sure what’s right or wrong in this whole setup,’ she said. ‘But I don’t think I could sit around here for months, not doing anything. It’s just an emotional thing – I couldn’t do it. I agree with Homer that the Showground’s beyond our reach, but I feel we’ve got to get out and have a go at something. On the other hand I don’t want us to go around killing a lot of people. I’ve read those Vietnam books like Fallen Angels, where the woman hid a mine in her own kid’s clothes and gave it to a soldier to hold, then blew them both up. I still have nightmares about that. I’m already having nightmares about those people we ran down in the truck. But I guess my nightmares are small suffering compared to what some people have had. My nightmares are just the price I have to pay, I know that. Despite what these people say about a “clean” invasion, I think all wars are filthy and foul and rotten. There was nothing clean about them blowing up Corrie’s house, or killing the Francis family. I know this might sound a bit different from what I said before, but I don’t think it is. I can understand why these people have invaded but I don’t like what they’re doing and I don’t think there’s anything very moral about them. This war’s been forced on us, and I haven’t got the guts to be a conscientious objector. I just hope we can avoid doing too much that’s filthy and foul and rotten.’