Water in the Desert

Grey clouds crept along the skyline. The girl walked up the cracked road, backpack heavy on her shoulders, pulling a goat.

Three days ago, the sky had been spotless. She started walking. She had not stopped. She was exhausted.

One foot in front of the other.

The nanny goat would pull her, searching for lichen on eroded rocks, and the girl dragged it back towards their goal. They were running out of time.

A shining strip unraveled ahead, jarring against the barren landscape. She knew that each step should be bringing her closer, but the ribbon stubbornly stayed the same size.

Lightning rolled across the sky. The girl started counting, a habit ingrained over years. She reached fifteen seconds before the thunder rumbled. Five kilometres away.

“We can make it,” she muttered under her breath. “Come on, V, we can make it.”

Her feet dragged.

Another flash. She counted to twelve, then came the growl. Four kilometers behind.

“Just a bit longer,” she encouraged the goat. The old doe gave an unperturbed bleat, an ignorant idiot. The sky lit up. She counted to nine before the weather’s roar. Three kilometres. It was too close.

She started running, aching muscles powered by adrenaline. The goat skipped with her joyfully. The lightning streaked again, revealing high fencing made from a jumble of scrap metal, a trace of civilisation.

She got to five this time. The storm was moving faster, like it knew it could lose its quarry. The goat bleated, a happy dimwit, as she reached the fence. She dropped the lead and slammed her hands on the smooth metal. She couldn’t see a way in. She smashed her fists again and again. Someone was screaming. The voice was anguished, despairing. She realised the voice was hers.

Flash. One, two, then a boom. Less than a k. She had nothing left.

She heard a rusty creak as the world went dark.

***

The girl woke groggily, in darkness. Her sleep had been fitful. She vaguely remembered dreams of sunny days watering plants at the windowsill, milking goats, churning butter. Her dreams had morphed into nightmares. She shoved those thoughts away; she remembered passing out. She was definitely inside now, feeling the soft springiness of a mattress, a pillow under her head.

“Hello?” she said. Her voice came out weak and crackly from disuse. She coughed, sat up, spoke louder. “Is anyone there?”

She heard footsteps and light poured into the room, blinding her. Blinking, she saw a man’s shadow form in a doorway. A rough, smiling voice said, “Oh, you’re awake!”

The silhouette moved inside the room and approached her bed. She scooted backwards fast, her back slamming against the bedhead. He stopped, hands in the air in surrender. “Sorry mate,” he said, “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay? You’ve been asleep for days.”

“What’s happened to me?” Her words came out in a rush. She was breathing fast, but couldn’t stop. “What’s happened to V?”

“Who’s V?” he asked. “When we found you, it was just you and the goat…” he trailed off, grinning. “Oh I see, the goat is V? She’s safe and sound, she’s with the cattle. She’s showing them who’s boss.”

The girl was overwhelmed, but the man’s voice was soothing, casting a spell on her. Her thumping heart slowed. “Where am I?” she asked.

The man took another step forward, and the girl flinched. He gestured to a chair poked next to the bed. The girl gave a terse nod, and he pulled it up, turning it around and straddling it in one graceful movement.

“You’re in Mataranka Homestead. Well, you’re in what’s left of Mataranka. Those of us who stayed moved close together, then scavenged all the materials we could.” He stuck out his hand. “The name’s Ben Andrews, everyone calls me Benny though.”

She stared at the extended palm, bemused. “I’m Isabella,” she said. “When can I see Vinnie?” she added bluntly.

“Vinnie?”

“V. Vincent Van Goat.”

Benny stared at her a second, and then burst into raucous laughter, slapping his thigh. Isabella was stunned. It felt like a lifetime since she had heard laughter.

“Vincent Van Goat,” he said to himself, rubbing tears from his eyes. “That’s a good one!”

He stood up suddenly. “What am I thinking? You must be starving. Let me get the kitchen to rustle you up something, and I’ll grab you some water as well. You got any allergies?” he asked, then chuckled to himself. “Just kidding, you get what you get!” He left the room, cackling at his own joke.

Soon, a bubbly woman came, shoving into the room while juggling a large glass of water, and a huge plate piled high with meat and vegetables. Isabella’s eyes bulged at the excess. The meal could have fed her for a week. The incredible smell made her mouth water, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

“Try to eat slowly, love, don’t make yourself sick,” the woman said hurriedly. “I’ll be back later to clear up and show you around the place. I’m Kelly, by the way, lovely to meet you,” she added as she swept out the door.

Against instruction, Isabella shovelled food into her mouth, ignoring the cutlery. Beef! It had been years since she had beef. She sipped from the glass and was shocked. Instead of the sour, metallic tang to which she was accustomed, this water tasted of nothing. Delighted, she drank deeply. She finished everything, licking the last juices from her fingers and the plate. She let out a belch and a satisfied sigh as she heard brisk paces approaching. Kelly barrelled into the room, her entire personality a physical force.

“Oh, you’ve done well! I love a clean plate!” She piled up the dishes while chatting. “How are you feeling? Are you ready to take a look around? Best to stretch your legs, and you’ll want to know where the long drop is. Come on,” she gabbed, leaving Isabella no chance to speak, and no choice but to follow.

Isabella stepped out into the light and could not contain her amazement.

She was surrounded by cabins, with rusty caravans squeezed in between. Above the lodgings there were rudely erected thick plastic sheets sloping outwards, discoloured but not showing signs of degradation.

“What is all this?” she asked Kelly, stunned. “How… how many people are here? How do you all stay alive?”

“Well you know, once we heard what was going on around the world, people had to make some choices. Lots of folks drove to Darwin to see it through with their friends and family. The rest of us decided it’d be best to stick together, close to the Homestead rather than being all over the place. So the live-ins from the caravan park moved here, and us farmers and those further out took the cabins. Anyway, there’s about eighty of us all in all.”

She pointed outside the ring of vehicles and buildings. “Over that way is a greenhouse, and we made a big shed for the cattle. All colourbond, so it’s still holding up.” She sighed. “Can’t keep many animals in there, not enough fodder or space, but enough so we can still get milk, and get some beef from time to time. Got some buffalo too.”

She smiled down at Isabella, who was still baffled by Kelly’s ability to ramble without taking a breath.

“And now we’ve got a goat! We’ve been milking her, making sure she doesn’t get too full or worse, dry up. Goat milk is a nice change.”

She brushed her hands together briskly. “I’ve got to get back into the kitchen, lots of mouths to feed here and lots to do. Everyone pulls their weight of course, but we make meals in the restaurant kitchen. Just easier that way. Benny will look after you. He’s the one who found you, he was on watch that day. Carried you in no problems, you’re all skin and bones. That goat was tripping around him, getting in the way, but we got you in before the rains started.” She looked around, cupped her hands around her mouth and bellowed. “Benny! Get over here, I need you to show Izzy around!” She looked to Isabella. “You don’t mind me calling you Izzy, do you?”

“No, that’s okay,” she said quietly. “My mum called me Izzy. I like it.”

Kelly’s face softened. “Where’s your mum now, Izzy?”

“She’s dead,” Isabella said, her face blank.

“Oh love, I’m so sorry.” Without warning, Kelly knelt down and scooped Isabella into her arms, her embrace wrapping her up, a tight blanket. “These are tough times, but we’re here for you now. If you want to talk about it, just let me know.”

They heard an awkward cough, parting to see Benny standing stiffly near them. “Anything I can do?” he said.

“Always something to be done, Benny,” said Kelly roughly. She looked up at the sky. “Make yourself useful and show Izzy around, before the storm comes, then bring her to the bar. We can do introductions while we hunker down.” With that, Kelly romped off.

“Kelly has a heart of gold. She’s really the best of us,” Benny said, staring after the departing figure. “Well, she’s not wrong! Best we get a wriggle on.”

He led Isabella first to a greenhouse the size of a barn, full of flourishing fruits and vegetables, pipework strung between sections like black rubber streamers. “We managed to get seeds and crops going in here before the wet season came in, which ruined all the farms outside.”

“Where’s the water come from?” piped up Isabella.

“Oh, we got pretty lucky on that one. We’re getting our water from the CLA,” said Benny. He scratched his head thoughtfully. “I forget what it stands for. Cramby? Cambari? Limestone Aquifer. We didn’t know whether the water would be alright, but it turns out that the limestone does a good job of filtering out the heavy metals and fixing up the pH a bit. So I guess we’ll be set as long as the limestone lasts.” He rubbed his chin. Isabella wondered whether touching his face helped him think.

“If you aren’t on the aquifer, how were you getting your water then?” asked Benny.

“We had a bore,” said Isabella. “The rain still got in it, but we treated it with bicarb.”

“Clever. Did you have plants then? Is that how you kept the goat going too?”

“Yeah, we had some plants growing inside, in the window. We had a few goats…” her voice trailed off. Benny waited, but there were no more words.

“Well! Let’s carry on then,” announced Benny, stepping outside.

He continued around the property, showing Isabella the giant building where the animals were kept. She counted around twenty cows and a couple of buffalo. A delighted goat ran to her, gambling around her feet, bleating her greetings. Isabella petted her fiercely.

“Hi V, you dummy. It looks like they’ve looked after you,” she said, scratching the goat lovingly around her ears.

“Only the best for our resident artist,” chuckled Benny. “She’ll be fine in here for the storm, but we better hustle back.”

As Benny and Isabella walked through the property, she caught sight of the fence. Extensions had been added to make the wall taller, and lining the top was rusted barbed wire.

“How did you find me?” asked Isabella.

“See over there?” said Benny, pointing. There was someone standing in a tower on a sturdy platform. Attached to it appeared to be a Hills Hoist washing line, sealed with plastic panels like a weird gaudy umbrella. “Had to make a watch tower. We have the water going, but not everyone out there has worked out there’s enough for everyone. Had some problems with folks who wanted to take, rather than share. Bloody mongrels.” His face clouded over, a mirror of the dark skies. “We had the guns to drive them off, but we made the fence quick smart after that.”

“Raiders,” said Isabella quietly.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You had some trouble with them?”

Isabella stopped, stock still. Benny took a couple of steps before realising she wasn’t with him. He turned, knelt down and looked up at Isabella’s face.

“V had run away,” she said, staring past Benny into the distance. “I went out to get her. When I got back… it was all gone. The plants, the goats.” She let out a sob. “They left Mum.” Isabella buried her face in her hands, uncontrollably releasing her grief. Benny didn’t touch her, waiting. The weeping slowed, her emotions draining away from her like water on dry soil. “I buried her,” she said, empty. “They didn’t find our hidden stash, so I took it, took V. Next dry day, I started walking.”

“Where did you come from?” asked Benny, speaking softly and calmly.

“Our farm. Ninety ks away.”

He whistled softly. “That’s a long walk,” he said. “But why didn’t you come sooner?”

“We didn’t know if we could make it, between rains. Mum isn’t… wasn’t… young, and she had a bad hip...” Isabella’s words drifted away.

He grabbed her gently by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him, and stared hard into her eyes. “You’ve been through a lot, kid. You’ve done so well. You’re okay now, you hear me? You’re safe.”

Isabella nodded.

Benny stood up, brushed the dirt off his knees. “Right, we better get in, we’re cutting it close,” he said, breaking into a light jog. Isabella ran after, and they burst through the restaurant doors.

It was filled with people who welcomed them heartily, patting Benny on the back, bombarding Isabella with names that she would not be able to remember. Benny pulled out a chair for her, pushing her in with a chivalry lost to this era. Kelly came over to greet her.

“I have something for you, Izzy,” she said, and put a disheveled backpack on the table. “Just as you left it, we didn’t want to pry.”

Isabella stared at the bag, and then opened it, upturning it on the table. Cans of tuna tumbled out, creating an untidy pile. Benny and Kelly’s eyes bugged, unable to believe what they were seeing.

“FISH! Oh my god! How do you have fish?” Benny tried to contain his excitement, but picked up a can, studying it like he could see through the tin. At the exclamation, the bar had gone quiet, staring curiously. Isabella heard the patter of drops on the reinforced roof.

“This is amazing!” said Kelly. Turning to Isabella, she added, “Darl, these are worth their weight in gold. You should hold on to them.”

Isabella shoved the pile towards Benny and Kelly. “No, these are for you.” She looked around the crowd. “This is for all of you. For saving me.”

A massive cheer erupted from her new community. The jubilation drowned the sound of the storm. The noise washed over Isabella, filling her with relief and hope.

She turned to look out the window, watching the rain as tears rolled down her cheeks.