‘We were quite glad to get out of there,’ Robyn went on. ‘We moved back into town and just flitted around like little bats, trying to make contact with dentists or anyone else. Which reminds me,’ she said, smiling sweetly at Lee, ‘it’s time I took your stitches out.’ Lee looked nervous. I was trying to imagine Kevin flitting. It was hard to picture. ‘We didn’t find anyone though,’ Robyn said. ‘Not a soul. There’s probably still a few people around, but they’re lying very low.’ She grinned, and relaxed. ‘And that concludes our report to the nation. Thank you and good night.’
‘Hey, we could end up being the nation,’ Kevin said. ‘We could be the only ones left free, so we’d be the government and everything, wouldn’t we? Bags being Prime Minister.’
‘I’ll be the Police Commissioner,’ Chris said. We all chose jobs, or got given them. Homer was Minister for Defence, and Chief of the General Staff. Lee was Pensioner of the Year, because of his leg. Robyn wanted to be Minister for Health but got Archbishop instead. Corrie said, ‘I’ll be Minister for Kevin’. She really could be sickening at times. Fi was Attorney General, because of her parents. I got named as Poet Laureate, which I was quite pleased about.
Maybe it was that which first planted in Robyn’s head the idea of my writing all this down.
‘So anyway,’ Chris said eventually, ‘your turn. What have you guys been doing back here, apart from working on your tans?’
They’d already admired the chook yard, and they’d sampled the eggs. But we told them the rest, especially about the Hermit’s hut, which we figured would make a great back-up base for us.
‘I want to find a way out of the back of Hell, to the Holloway River,’ I said. ‘I’m sure that’s where this creek must go. And if we had a back way out of here we’d be in an even safer position. Once we’re in the Holloway we can get to that whole Risdon area.’
Lee and I didn’t tell them about the metal box with the Hermit’s papers. There was no particular reason. We hadn’t even discussed not telling them. It just seemed too private.
‘Listen, you know these chooks,’ Kevin said, ‘I’ve been thinking about other livestock we could have. I’m no vegetarian, and I want my meat. And I mink I’ve got the answer.’
We all waited expectantly. He leaned forward and said one word, in a solemn, almost reverent tone.
‘Ferrets.’
‘Oh no,’ Corrie squealed. ‘Yuk! They’re disgusting! I hate them.’
Kevin looked wounded at this disloyalty from the one person he could normally count on. ‘They’re not disgusting,’ he said, sounding hurt. ‘They’re clean and they’re intelligent and they’re very friendly.’
‘Yeah, so friendly they’ll run up your trouser leg,’ Homer said.
‘What are they?’ Fi asked. ‘Do you eat them?’
‘Yeah, between two slices of bread. And you don’t kill them first. You eat them alive, as they squirm and squeal in the sandwich. They’re the world’s freshest food.’ That was Kevin, being funny. He proceeded to give Fi a lesson on ferrets, during which it became obvious that he didn’t know much about them either.
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.