Five Minutes

Higher and higher. Numbers are climbing up the scale. Almost every minute that goes by, another number increases. One minute, the radio read 36.9℃, the next it read 38.3℃, and then 39.8℃. I didn't think numbers could increase that drastically, but here we are. I lay on the kitchen floor with the air conditioner full blast, trying my hardest to cool my body down. The floor tiles were helping me a little bit, but I could still feel sweat pooling underneath my back. I lay there, thinking about the desolation of this state, stranded in a rural town in the middle of nowhere. I lay there, struggling to keep my sanity alive, anticipating the worst. Only a few months ago, it was bucketing with rain and we were practically swimming through the main street. Now, there's not a single drop of water in sight.

The streets were bare. All the cars were either on the drive to Melbourne or parked safely in garages. Everyone indoors, away from the heat in their air-conditioned hotel rooms, far away from this community-driven town, or hugging and crying family members as they watch their houses and properties go up in flames. A family heirloom, a legacy house, was completely engulfed in flames within five minutes. The question of the day today was ‘Do we stay or leave? Do we stay and watch our house burn to the ground in hopes of saving it, or leave, remain safe and see what happens in the next 72 hours?’

Even though Victoria has experienced these exact conditions before on several occasions, it's still just as terrifying as the previous ones; it's something you simply can't get used to. You would think living in town would spare your house from the blaze, but that's not always the case. Houses will burn, shops will burn, farms will burn. The blaze won't spare anything in its path of destruction.

As I continue to lie on the kitchen tiles trying to find comfort, the emergency warning sirens blare on the radio. Another one, I thought. We know it's in the Grampians. We're pretty far away from there.

“An emergency warning has been issued for the Wimmera and surrounding areas. Fires are spreading at a rapid rate across the Grampians National Park as the CFA desperately tries to contain the blaze.” The radio warned. “The Little Desert National Park has caught alight at roughly 1 pm today due to a dry lightning strike. The blaze is currently in the western part of the park, north of Goroke. The fire is spreading in an easterly direction towards the Western Highway connecting Dimboola and Horsham. We are asking all residents of Dimboola and the surrounding areas to stay alert and take action soon.”

I sat up so quickly my head began spinning. Towards the highway? We're not going to be able to leave if it continues.

“Mum!” I yelled as loudly as I could. My heart was pounding in my throat, and my vision started to go black and blurry. This couldn't be real. “Mum, where are you?” I continued to shout, standing up in a hurry, trying not to make my head spin again. I ran out the back door to try and find her, but I completely forgot how hot it was outside. The heat seemed to hit me faster than the speed of light, knocking me back. The thermometer to my right read 42.5℃. I continued to run out the back in search of my mother. Running across the pavement felt like hot coals underneath my feet, the prickles like needles.

“Mum! Have you heard the radio? Mum, we need to go now! Please, mum!” I frantically searched for her, but found her watering the gardens around the side of the house. She looked at me with fear in her face as I broke the news to her. My mum has experienced more bushfires in her life than the years I've been alive. Whether she had lived through them herself or seen them on the news, she had had her fair share. But this was the closest she's ever been physically to a bushfire, especially one coming almost directly for her home.

“Hey, you're okay. We're fine. It's spreading towards the east; we’re up north of the fire. We're okay. If it were coming for us, it would still have to jump the river.” She tried her best to reassure me and calm me down. I tried my hardest to explain the direction it was headed, but nothing came out of my mouth, just a small squeak. I looked down to see wet patches on my shirt. I touch my face to reveal it's also wet. Distracted by the fear inside me, I didn't notice the glowing orange sky. The sky, once bright blue and clear, was now completely obscured by a layer of smoke, turning it into an eerie shade of orange. The sun had gone from a bright ball of light that you couldn't stare at to one so dull you could gaze at it for hours. Our town looked like it was straight out of an Armageddon movie. I started slowing my breathing by taking deep breaths, but I didn't realise how thick the air was. I began coughing and gasping for air as my mother comforted me and led me back inside.

We sat down together on the couch as I consumed a cola Zooper Dooper, watching whatever game show was playing on the TV. I rested my head in her lap for a while before slowly dozing off. The comfort you get from your mother after a stressful day is something so precious that nothing can match it. Sleep is so much more comforting when you know your one true supporter is by your side.

Five Minutes - Part 2

I didn't know how long I had been asleep, but long enough for the warnings to change from ‘Stay Informed’ to ‘Prepare to Leave’. The radio was still repeating the same emergency warning like a broken record; the only difference was that it was now announcing the sudden wind change set to happen later this evening.

“Did you hear that?” I asked my mother while sitting beside her. She didn't answer me; she just continued to look into the distance, her face frozen in terror.

“The Western Highway connecting Dimboola and Horsham will be shut until further notice. For everyone evacuating, please follow these roads,” the radio continued to inform us. “There will be a sudden wind change going in a northern direction at 5:30 pm. We advise all residents of the surrounding town to evacuate before it's too late.” I glance at the clock; 4:23 pm. I look back at my mother, who finally snapped out of her stare.

“Listen to me carefully.” She grabbed my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. “Go pack a bag with your clothes, medication, water, charger, and anything you absolutely need. Once you do that, pack one for your brother and put them both in the car. I don't know how long we're going to be gone for, but we need to prepare for the worst.” I don't think I've ever felt more distressed in my life.

“Please be quick about it all, because once we get everything we need, we're getting your brother and driving as far away as we can.”

I have no clue how she does it some days. She’s so calm, maybe a little bit panicked, but so much calmer than I am. Then again, that's not hard to do.

This was it. We had to leave now. Whether we stay or leave, our house will most likely be gone. Five minutes. The time it takes me to pack a bag to leave is the same amount of time it takes for an ember to land on the roof and then be engulfed by flames. The last thing I want is for that to happen to my house. I guess that's what we get for living in a town bordered by desert.

I rushed into my bedroom and packed as much as I could into the biggest bag I owned. Nothing was folded, just rolled up in balls and thrown in. I didn't even take the shirts off the hangers; I was so stressed. I froze as I looked around to see what else I needed. What did Mum say? Charger, meds, water, and whatever else I need. Like what? I could take almost everything. After a few minutes, I finished mine and began packing my brother's belongings. Mason is a few years younger than me and is spending the day at a friend's 12th birthday party. It was supposed to finish at 3 pm, but his mum said she would keep everyone there until the parents came to evacuate, rather than take them home, just in case the worst happens. It made a lot more sense to keep everyone there, but I feel bad for the parents, having 20 tweens at your house for hours on end, running purely on sugar and red cordial.

Mum came in to see how I was going. I had finished packing Mason's stuff up and took both bags out to the car.

The moment I stepped outside, I could feel the heat go through my body almost immediately. It was so hot that the temperature increases didn't seem to exist. The sky had gone from a pale orange to a glowing shade of blood-red as the smoke grew darker and thicker. I've lived in this house since the day I was born. For almost 16 years, I have known nothing else except this house as a home. Within the next few days, it could burn to the ground, leaving nothing but memories in the back of my mind. Five minutes is all it takes…

Mum came outside to put the last of our belongings in the car. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she kept sniffling. She jumped in the car as quickly as she could, and I followed her moves.

“Ready, Evie?” I nodded. She looked at me with one of the saddest looks I've ever seen. Her face said everything her mouth wasn't; the look of defeat and heartbreak.

Our first stop is Mason. Our second stop was for fuel. Our third stop, who knows?

As the three of us left along the highway, I kept looking at the glowing sky behind us. A shade of red I will never forget, forever engraved in my memories. The fear that ran through my body only minutes earlier will never be forgotten. I focused my vision on my brother, who was looking out the backseat window, tears streaming down his face. I couldn't imagine what he was thinking, poor kid. I reached an arm out to him and held his hand.

“Hey, we're going to be fine. The house will be fine. We’ll come back in a few days, and the house will still be there just like every other house and shop in town,” I reassured him. All he responded with was a nod, more tears spilling everywhere. I didn't know he could believe me when I didn't even believe myself. It wasn't that I thought the house was going to be destroyed, but I didn't know how bad the damage would be. All I was certain about was that it only takes five minutes…