In the Shade of the Shady Tree: Stories of Wheatbelt Australia

the fireball

15 • the fireball There’s a right and a wrong way of doing things, Harold said. Jenny thought,The right way is usually the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the kids . . . She bit her lip, as always. But Dad, Jim said, those caves are amazing.You should come up and see them. Kangaroos shelter in there during the heat of the day. They are full of white sand that’s crumbled from the limestone walls. On top, it’s all iron-rock and gravel, with heaps of quartz chips. And the scrub up there is impenetrable. It’s all needle tree and dead-finish bushes. And in front of the caves there are great zamia palms.You can see right out across the sandplain paddocks to the ocean. Harold cut him off, his pained expression saying he’d already been too patient. That’s not the point, Jim, it’s not our land. Even this isn’t our land. Three months we’ve got, before we have to move back to town.Without the cheap rent, I’d be lucky to cover the renovations at home. Jim ruminated. His mother held her tongue, as she was expected to do. Eventually she said, It will be interesting Geraldton/Greenough 16 j o h n k i n s e l l a catching the school bus into Geraldton, Jim. I guess you’ll know a few of the kids. Not really, said Jim. Most of the upper-school students from out here board at the hostel. But he sparked up, ignoring his father’s impatience, and said,There’s also a canyon where water runs fast when it rains. Must be some springs down there, because there are clusters of red river-gums. I’ll examine it closer tomorrow and take my field notebook. You’ll do no such thing, Jim, said Harold, banging the table ineffectually with the flat of his hand.You stay around this house and go no further. Jim glanced up at his father with disdain. Old dickhead, he thought. He smiled at his mother and went on eating dinner with exaggerated manners, annoying and pleasing his father at once, who hoped he’d controlled his son. Susan, Jim’s sister, sat opposite, eating slowly and deliberately. She feared the bus, and didn’t like this old asbestos, tin-roofed house that was their temporary home. She would be starting high school with the new term, and thought it pretty shoddy that this extra stress was added to her life. Her father didn’t bother her too much; she barely thought him worth registering. And she didn’t do much that could annoy him. She was a polite young lady. That was all that mattered. The household’s main problem was Harold being home most of the time. He’d taken his long-service leave and spent his days sitting in the front room listening to light classics and reading. Always ready with an opinion, he shouted orders from his seat below the old air-conditioning unit. Hopefully he’ll get Legionnaire’s disease, said Jim to his mum, and she couldn’t help laughing, telling herself Jim didn’t mean it. Jim did try to get through to his father. On a particularly hot day, he went and sat near him in the front room.Waiting until Harold looked up from his page, he spoke quietly so as not to drown out the Ravel gurgling in the background. Dad, there’s some zebra finches just outside, you should come 17 t h e f i r e b a l l and have a look and a listen. They’re so chirpy. They live in the needle trees this side of the barbed wire fence. So they’re not “out of bounds.” Jim even avoided the sarcasm the final comment might carry. Harold, impervious, said, It’s hot out there, son.You’ll get filthy traipsing about among the bushes.You should do some of that holiday reading you’re supposed to do. Get the jump on your courses. Already have, Dad. Hey, do you know, there’s an echidna that shelters under the house during the heat of the day. Curled up in a ball. It feeds on all those termite mounds down the hill around the melaleuca thickets and York gums. That’s interesting, Jim, said Harold, returning to...