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Authors: Fiona Palmer

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BOOK: The Sunburnt Country
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Chapter 15

JONNY
drove back out of town, down the straight stretch of endless empty road that lead to the lookout. She needed to think, time to clear her head, to make sense of everything. The rumble of her V8 helped. It was like the gentle rock of a mother’s arms or a soothing beer after a hard day of work. Nothing lifted her spirits more than driving her pride and joy, window down, breeze rushing in and churning through her hair as if it were blowing away the worries.

Dan was the main thing on her mind. From his refusal to help her with her loan, which sent her into flurries of anxiety, to the recognition of just how great he’d been at Ryan’s. Churning through paperwork, entering it into the computer, showing Jonny how it all worked and what it meant. She certainly had a better understanding now. If anything, it made her financial predicament clearer. She needed money, and now. And she wasn’t someone to ask her parents or anyone else for it, not when they were all in the same boat. This was her problem and she needed to find a way out. Deep down she knew what she had to do, but she couldn’t bear it. She so badly wanted to blame Dan for what she had to do; it was easy to blame him and his snobby city suit. But who was she kidding, he was sexy in his suit, the way those tailored pants fit perfectly. And, realistically, no extension would help her – the drought wasn’t going anywhere.

Slowing down, she turned onto the narrow gravel road that led to the lookout. Some people would curse and shake their heads at her for taking such a beautiful car on a dirt road, even Jonny hadn’t wanted to at first. She bought the car when she was a cashed-up twenty-one-year-old. Coot helped her hunt it down and they were so impressed with the state of it that Jonny couldn’t bear to take it out of the workshop, where it sat safe in the back corner under a cover. She used to pull the cover back, run her hand over the curves, drive it out of the shed on a warm day to lovingly wash and polish it until it shone like new, but Coot had said that was no way for a car to live.

He’d pointed his bent dirty finger at her and asked, ‘How would you like to spend the rest of your days cooped up and only ever brought out to be shined up and then hidden away again? That’s not how a car of such beauty should be treated. Cars are built to be driven.’ Then and there he’d told her to get in the car and together they took it for its first big drive. They had ended up at the lookout so Coot could get out for a smoke. Sitting on the bonnet of her Torana they had discussed cars till the sun had set. It was one of the best afternoons of her life. Coot had been staring out across the land, deep in thought as his gravelly words fell from his lips. ‘My father loved cars. I remember he had a Tin Lizzy tucked away in the back shed. I was never allowed near it, not until I was at the end of my teens. He clung on to that car like a piece of gold, said if he kept it schmicko it would be worth something one day.’ Coot had stopped talking and taken a huge drag on his rollie. He never rushed his stories. ‘Then he died when I was twenty-five and, you know, he never really got to enjoy that car. He missed out on it. Mum had to sell it to survive. To me it was a waste. If you can’t enjoy the things you love, what’s the point, eh? No good to ya when ya dead.’

From that afternoon on, Jonny started driving her Torana. Not too far, but there is something to be said for a nice Sunday drive. Or a Saturday drive, in Jonny’s case today.

Parking up at the lookout, Jonny went and sat on the bonnet, just like in the good old days with Coot. The sun embraced her body and the air was heavy with the scent of eucalyptus and dust.

‘Ah Coot, what am I gonna do? You’re the one person who knows how much I love this car, how much of you lives on in it.’
Can I really part with it?
she asked herself.

The heat of the sun made her squint as she looked out over the sad landscape. Brittle trees hung parched while birds rested on their weary limbs. Today she felt like those trees, just about defeated by this drought. But as dry, dusty, scarred and sad as the land looked, she still loved it. Just like a weary old battler in his final days, the land radiated a wisdom born from years of struggle.

Jonny didn’t need to have a sign from Coot. She already knew she had her answer. As much as she loved this car, she loved the workshop more. Coot’s essence was in that workshop and she’d give her left leg, or her right, to keep it. If her Torana had to go, so be it.

While she was sweating in the heat, one hard decision made, Jonny allowed her mind to wander back to Daniel, just for a moment. She really couldn’t help it. Sometimes he crept into her mind without a second’s notice. Damn him for being so handsome. Just seeing those thongs on his feet today made him seem normal and more approachable. Sometimes she could almost forget where he came from and where he was heading. As soon as the thought of them together crept into her mind she shut it down. It would never work. They were too different and they lived in completely different worlds.

With a groan, she pushed herself off the car and headed back to the workshop. She had a ‘for sale’ sign to write. Just the thought of that made her so depressed, not even the drive home could cheer her up.

Chapter 16

DANIEL
followed Zac’s directions to his farm the next day after lunch. It wasn’t far from town, not quite ten minutes before he saw the large farm sign next to a grand rock wall entry. Someone had put in the hard yards, he thought. A timber sign had
Baxter Plains
etched into it.

The house and sheds came into view, nestled among some gum trees. The house sat on his right and three huge sheds spanned from the left in an arc. Three large silos were behind them, their big wide bellies round and waiting. But the house was amazing. It was the colour of the brown earth, encircled by a long, wide verandah with stumps made from tree trunks. A small patch of lawn framed one side of the house and the other three sides faced onto a garden of native plants and shrubs.

The first shed on Dan’s left had three utes parked around it; one looked really battered and had a tank on the back. There was farm machinery in the shed, including some massive tractors. Then there was another ute and a car at the house. He wondered if they all belonged to Zac’s family. Did they really need all of those utes?

Dan parked next to the house. Three dogs came running out, barking at his arrival. Two looked like work dogs but the third was a terrier of some sort. He watched them out of his window, wondering if any of them were trained to bite the bank manager. A whistle echoed and both brown dogs sat obediently, their ears twitching. Dan climbed out and saw Zac heading towards his car. The terrier, clearly above the law, ran up to Dan and began to assail him with sniffing and licking.

‘Jacko, Hollie, on the ute,’ Zac commanded. The work dogs followed his order, eagerly jumping onto the tray as if they were off to do an important job. ‘I can control those two but I can’t save you from Mitzy’s slobber,’ he said, pointing to the white terrier.

Zac was wearing his boots, while Dan had only his running shoes to wear. He didn’t own a pair of boots, unless you counted his leather dress shoes, but they would get him laughed off the land.

‘Come inside.’ Zac led the way along a compacted gravel path to the rammed-earth home.

‘Love your house.’

‘Thanks. We built it ourselves. My brother Ted now lives in the old house out behind the sheds.’

Inside the house the air was crisp, and the walls were cool to touch. They passed through a living room that was large but overflowing with stuff. Photos adorned the walls and handmade rugs and throws covered the chairs. On the side cupboards were more old photos and collectables sitting on crocheted doilies.

‘Mum,’ Zac yelled.

‘I’m in the kitchen.’ Before they reached the kitchen, a plump lady with a blonde bob walked out. A black apron emblazoned with ‘Kiss the cook’ protected her skirt and blouse. She had kindest eyes Daniel had ever seen.

‘Oh, we have a guest,’ she said politely.

‘Mum, this is Dan, the bank man. Dan, this is my mum, Sandra.’

Dan held out his hand but Sandra brushed straight past it and gave him a hug. He tried to think of the last time he’d been hugged by anyone besides his ex-girlfriends.

‘Welcome to our home, Dan. Would you boys like something to eat? Drink? I’ve just made some scones. Your sister’s in there devouring the leftover crackle from last night’s roast.’

‘Damn it, Jonny!’ Zac yelled as he set off for the kitchen.

Dan stood with Sandra, when he really wanted to follow Zac and see Jonelle.

‘So how are you finding Bundara, Dan?’

‘Oh, it’s different from Perth, the scenery is beautiful and the people are friendly.’

‘Have you been out of the city before?’

‘Um, no, not really. Unless you count the suburbs.’ Dan heard scuffling noises coming from the kitchen.

Sandra excused herself and headed in there. ‘Take it outside,’ she yelled. His own mum had used the same tone when she’d watch him play fight with Cameron. Parents loved to watch siblings play together but it seemed that they lived in fear of anything being broken in the process.

He heard a tea towel being flicked and Zac and Jonelle appeared, their arms still entwined.

Zac pulled Jonelle into a headlock and then smiled at Dan. ‘You never grow up in our family,’ he said, laughing.

Jonelle stopped wriggling and glanced up at him from Zac’s strong arms, her hair half covering her face. ‘Hey, Dan. Welcome to our home,’ she said. Then she grinned as she stomped on Zac’s foot.

‘Hey,’ Zac groaned, and Jonelle ducked away and disappeared into a hallway. Zac motioned for Dan to follow him as they headed back outside. ‘Come on. I’ll show you ’round the farm.’

Outside in the heat they got into the red Land Cruiser, both dogs still on the back. As Zac reversed Dan saw Jonelle in one of the large windows, her face angelic. He wished she was coming with them.

‘This is our border on the west,’ said Zac, pointing out another paddock. ‘All the way over that rise to the east and from our main gate back to that point,’ he said. Zac had driven him to the highest point on the farm. The view over Baxter Plains was amazing, even in a drought, and Dan had to wonder what it would look like in winter when the barren yellow paddocks were covered with green. Dan glanced at Zac and saw an expression on his face that he hadn’t seen on anyone around here in a long time. Zac was staring off into the distance with a look of contentment; it was a mixture of serenity and joy. And the proud tone in Zac’s voice as he spoke of Baxter Plains left Dan wondering if he’d ever talked or felt that way about his work.

‘So you really love it out here?’ he asked.

Zac turned to him and shrugged. He scratched at his stubbly jaw before answering. ‘Yep. It’s always hard to explain to those who don’t live out here. But it’s ingrained in me, it’s a mixture of tradition and family that gives you a sense of pride, and then it’s the love affair that starts when we are young. You know, as a kid I loved jumping in the tractor with Dad, going shooting, picking rocks with the loader, having picnics by the big rock and watching the sunsets. Over time this place builds so many amazing memories, so it’s not just a business or a place of work, its history and passion. Baxter Plains is in here,’ Zac said as he pointed to his chest. ‘Blood, sweat and tears, mate. Blood, sweat and tears.’

Dan nodded, quietly amazed at the depth of Zac’s passion. All jokes aside, he was a pretty deep and sentimental guy. ‘This is a great spot. I’ve never seen so much empty land at once. It’s like we’re the only ones on the planet.’ Dan swivelled on the spot. He could see the homestead in the distance. It was such an alien place for him. Slowly sweeping land dotted with gum trees, mallee trees and bush scrub. All of the fenced paddocks he could see were almost bare earth, the odd one had a scattering of dry stubble, and he could see the breeze picking up some of the topsoil, blowing it across the land.

‘Yeah. I come here a lot. One day, when I find myself a wife, I’ll build our house right here, I reckon.’

‘So, no one yet?’

Zac snorted. ‘I wish. All the ones around here are mates and that’s a hard thing to change. It’s not easy trying to meet someone new out here.’

‘I guess I never realised that.’ Not that Dan was actively seeking a girlfriend but he knew all he had to do in the city was go out to pubs or clubs and start looking. Even if you were just after a bit of fun and nothing serious, it was all there, all available in the city.

‘But I have plans. I want a wife, kids, dogs, the whole deal. I want them to love this place as much as I do. I look at my brother Ted with his family on the farm and I’m envious. What about you? Do you have plans?’ Zac asked seriously.

Dan shook his head. ‘No, I haven’t been in a relationship for nearly two years. But none of them were anything serious. My last one had her own house and career so we barely saw each other. I guess I’ve been so work-focused I haven’t really thought about a family. But I’d like one eventually. Just like my mate Scott and his cool kids.’

‘Bloody tough, hey. But I guess I don’t mind living with Mum. I’m happy enough – it’s just that other itch that needs scratching.’ He laughed. ‘Come on, I’ll show you our sheds. You ever seen a Steiger before?’

‘A what?’

‘It’s a type of tractor. Don’t worry, I’ll break you in.’

They followed a narrow dirt track; to Dan it seemed like a four-wheel-driving adventure. Zac jerked the ute around to dodge potholes and bushes leaning over the track. ‘Over there are our stud sheep. We sold off many of our other sheep so we didn’t have to feed them during this crap year. I can’t wait for the day when I don’t have to feed and water them. Oh, for a lush green paddock and full dams.’ Zac smiled. Even with the drought and everything else that was going against them this season, he still smiled. Dan wondered if he could live a life dictated by the weather. In his job, hard work would always bring reward but out here there was no guarantee. With farming, it seemed, no matter how hard you worked, no matter how good you were, it all meant nothing if you didn’t get any rain. And no one controlled Mother Nature.

‘And here she is,’ said Zac, pulling in to the shed in front of a large green tractor.

It had eight huge tyres and each one was nearly as tall as Dan.

‘Bloody hell! It’s a monster truck tractor.’ Dan couldn’t help his excitement as he climbed into it. And his excitement didn’t stop with the tractor. He also stood in awe before the massive seeding bar, the two huge headers, the large spray tractor and the loader. ‘Man, you must love your job having all these big, expensive toys to play with,’ Dan said.

Zac shrugged. ‘Yeah, I’ve grown up with it all. I was driving the header for Dad by the time I was eleven. I just wanted to be like my big brothers.’

‘And Jonelle?’ he asked curiously.

‘Ha. She was the worst. Dad wouldn’t let her on the big stuff at first, I think he was trying to keep her as his little girl and away from the bloke stuff, but she ended up spending her time in the shed playing with the motors, fixing things. We always joke that Dad has four sons. She didn’t stand a chance at being a real girl when she had us around. In our spare time we would do up old cars so she learnt heaps from a young age. Let’s just say she found her first few years on her apprenticeship pretty boring.’

Zac walked along the mouth of the shed to the side. ‘This is our farm workshop, and around the other side is our toy box,’ he said with a smile.

When Dan walked around to the back of the shed, he wasn’t expecting to find the heap of old car relics that lay scattered about.

‘This one was Ted’s first car, a Cortina. When he bought a new car, we turned this into a racing machine.’

Its black body was painted with stripes and it had the number four in a circle on the bonnet. Stickers were pasted all over the chassis.

‘The old Datsun was JB’s and the Commodore was mine, and that Mini we got just for Jonny,’ he said with a smirk. ‘But then she went and found an old Torana,’ Zac pointed to a beat-up white one, ‘and began her love affair with them.’

Jonelle had three Toranas. He was seeing a theme. ‘I see. How come they’re all dented?’ Dan asked. The side panels were rusting where the dents had split the paint. Heaps of old rims were lying around as well as bumpers and metal tubing.

‘Uh-huh. Great question. Let’s see if we can get a couple of them going and I’ll show you.’

Zac lifted up the bonnets on the Commodore and the Datsun before walking back into the workshop. He handed Dan a car battery and grabbed one himself, along with some oil and a few spanners, which he dropped into the back pocket of his work shorts.

After checking the oil and fitting the batteries to the cars, Zac turned the Commodore over. It started first time. ‘Yeah, baby.’ The Datsun had to be started with a screwdriver shoved down near the starter motor. The car turned over, sparking from the connection.

‘And we have car number two. Now we just have to pump up the flat tyres, check the fuel and we’re set.’

Zac then held out a brush.

‘What’s that for?’

‘To get rid of the spider webs in the car. Double-check for redbacks,’ Zac said with a smirk.

Dan wasn’t sure if he was joking or not but he didn’t want to risk it, so he took extra time checking for spiders. He found about six daddy-long-legs but no redbacks. Then they headed over to two large fuel tanks and topped the cars up.

‘Follow me,’ yelled Zac, as he jumped back into the baby-blue Commodore. ‘Try to keep up.’

Zac’s good humour was infectious. Dan’s face was already aching from the grinning, he was really enjoying his afternoon. Zac led him into a section of bush behind the sheds and it was here that he saw the track.

They parked near a small blackboard and a big metal box. Dan got out of his car and joined Zac.

‘Here’s a helmet for you, and one for me,’ Zac said, handing him a helmet from the metal box. ‘Safety first, Mum always says, so don’t forget your seatbelt as well.’

‘What’s the board for?’

‘We used to time each other doing laps. JB held the record for two years before Jonny came along and thrashed it. Speedway ruined her. She became too competitive,’ he said, chuckling. ‘None of us wanted to race her after that.’

Dan held the white helmet. It had
JB
written in marker on each side and
No Fear
on the back. He double-checked it for spiders, too.

‘Now, the rules. Well, there are no rules. Just don’t get out of your car on the track and don’t crash.’

‘You must have had a great childhood,’ said Dan, in awe.

Zac winked. ‘Yep, I’m still living it. Every now and then you gotta live a little, right?’

Dan nodded but wondered about the last time he’d lived a little. He’d hadn’t done anything stupid and reckless purely for fun in ages. He’d left that behind in his teens.

‘Come on. Let’s see what you’re made of, Mr Bank Man.’

By the time Dan climbed in and put on his helmet and seatbelt, Zac had already taken off along the track, coating Dan’s car in a cloud of dust.

‘Oh my God,’ Dan said to the now empty track ahead of him. ‘I can’t believe I’m about to do this.’ Nerves started to tingle and the adrenaline was like nothing he’d experienced before. He planted his foot like a natural.

BOOK: The Sunburnt Country
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