Claire Zorn - The Sky So Heavy

The shopfronts and office buildings flash past as we speed through the streets. Noll doesn’t say any more. We hit ANZAC Bridge, the Golden Gate wannabe that stretches out over the water, linking the CBD with the inner west. I pedal the ascent and my legs scream in protest, we sail down the other side into the city suburbs, the affluent terrace-lined streets strewn with rubbish. I jump the gutter turning a corner and the bike comes down hard, I feel the grind and wobble of my front tyre gone flat.

‘Fuck.’ I stop, get off the bike, kick it to the ground. ‘Fuck, fuck, FUCK!’ I pick the thing up and fling it at the nearest wall. I open my lungs and let out the biggest sound I can, screaming until there is nothing left.

‘Language, Mr Heath.’

The voice comes from behind us. When I hear it, it’s like everything in me stops, the breathing, the blood in my veins, everything. I turn around and there, beneath a mountain of overcoats, is a man.

‘Surely, Findlay, it isn’t a problem that can’t be solved with decorum,’ he says wryly. A tear streaks from the corner of his eye and is caught by the thick grey beard.

‘Mr Effrez,’ I whisper.

‘You both look exhausted. Come with me.’

The whole apartment wouldn’t be more than thirty square metres, with piles of books and papers crowding the shelves that line every inch of available wall space. The air is thick with the tart scent of cigar smoke. He leads us through the narrow hall into a kitchen the size of a large cupboard. Cans of food are stacked and grouped according to their contents on the bench. Rice is portioned and bagged in individual servings, stored in a clear plastic container. There are also several jars of small fish, which I figure to be anchovies.

‘This has been the season for us closet fans of preserved fish,’ Effrez says. ‘Never had to fight it out for those. Are you gentlemen hungry?’

We both shake our heads. I am still dumfounded by the fact that we are standing in his kitchen. Effrez crouches down and reaches into the back of one of the cupboards. He pulls out a jar.

‘Perhaps I can tempt you with some coffee?’

Instant coffee was one of the first things to disappear from supermarket shelves, I can’t believe that there’s any left in the entire city. Effrez reads my expression and steps away from the cupboard.

‘I was very careful to stock up,’ he says.

I look down into the cupboard and see rows and rows of jars.

‘Never used to drink instant. What ugly creatures this has reduced us all to. Care for a cup of the devil’s drink?’

‘Yes, sir,’ we reply, almost in unison. ‘Thank you.’

He takes a saucepan from a hook on the wall and goes into the next room.

‘My bathroom has become a fireplace,’ he explains. I stick my head in the doorway to see the vanity sink filled with charcoal and ash. Plumes of black soot coat the tiles and mirror above the vanity. A hole is punched through the plaster ceiling above: an improvised chimney. Effrez takes some small pieces of wood from the bathtub and places them in the sink to light a fire.

‘I suppose you’ve noticed that matches are in short supply these days,’ he says.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I remember reading that we had lost the technology to visit the moon, that if we wanted to go back we’d have to reinvent the wheel, so to speak. I suspect the same is true of matches. We are going to have to rediscover how to conjure fire ourselves.’

‘Thank God for Survivor , sir,’ I say.

‘Useful tutorials with people in bikinis building fires,’ says Noll.

‘Ha, yes.’

He makes us coffee and leads us into the cramped sitting room. The three of us sit and sip our drinks.

‘You made it into the city,’ Effrez says gravely.

Noll and I explain the situation out west, how we left with Max and Lucy.

‘We came to try and find my mum,’ I tell Mr Effrez. ‘We thought she would be able to help.’

‘And did you find her?’ he asks.

I don’t reply. Noll explains to Effrez that we had just come from seeing my mother when we met him.

‘She says she can’t do anything for Noll and Lucy.’

‘What are you going to do, Fin?’ Effrez asks.

‘He’s going to get Max and go back to her.’

‘No I’m not, Noll.’

‘You have to, Fin. It’s stupid not to.’

‘I’m not leaving you and Lucy.’

‘And so we come to the moment when I saw you taking out your frustrations on an innocent bicycle,’ Effrez says.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Noll clears his throat.

‘I didn’t know you lived in the city, sir.’

‘Yes. I used to travel all the way up to your fine school purely for the privilege of working in such beautiful surrounds.’ He smiles. ‘You all took it so much for granted, leaving your Coke cans and chip packets lying all over the place.’

‘Yes, sir. We did… Are you here on your own?’

‘It appears so, Arnold. My lovely wife relocated to sunny California with her tennis instructor not long before the missiles. Although I suspect it isn’t quite as sunny now.’ He looks at me. ‘No one has the capacity to disappoint us like our loved ones. Yes. I am on my own, which has made it easier in many ways. This life isn’t sustainable, however. Like your mother told you, Findlay, there will be widespread famine if individuals continue to rely on outside sources for food. Have you considered leaving the city?’

‘Where would we go, sir?’

‘Do you remember in class when I told you about the community that were heading down south, near the Royal National Park? They have set up there. There are lots of feral deer that can be hunted. Place is full of them and they can survive the cold. There’s also mines, deep enough to tap into underground water sources.’

‘Why haven’t you gone with them?’ I ask.

Effrez doesn’t answer straightaway. He turns his mug around in his hands, eyes downcast.

‘My daughter was in Melbourne at university when all this started. She told me she was leaving to come up here. To come home. I was going to take her there with me. She hasn’t arrived. Obviously. I can’t leave here without her.’

The silence that comes is something I am becoming used to, the grief of not knowing. Effrez stands and takes our mugs into the kitchen.

He shakes our hands when we leave, giving us each a pat on the shoulder. And it seems that while our world has tilted and capsized, not everyone is pushing – some are scrambling to make room for others to cling on.

‘Think about what I said,’ he says. ‘Come back and see me either way.’

As Noll and I walk with our one remaining bike back to the car park. I try to think of what to say to Max when he asks if I found our mother.

The gloaming fades to black.

The moment Noll and I come down the tunnel into the car park Max bolts to us.

‘You found her, didn’t you? Didn’t you? You were gone ages – I figured you must have found her. Was she there?’

I stand there looking at him, my mouth trying to make the words.

‘Did you find her?’

‘Yes.’

He leaps up and grabs me around the neck. I gently untangle myself from him.

‘Why aren’t you smiling? Why aren’t you happy?’

Lucy’s eyes meet mine. ‘What happened?’

‘Are we going now?’ asks Max.

‘No.’

‘In the morning?’

‘No. Max, please. Settle down.’

‘Why not? You found her, didn’t you?’

‘Max! Just give me some space.’

He frowns and his lip starts to wobble, but he puffs himself up, fighting it.

‘She… she can’t help all of us. She says she can’t help Lucy and Noll.’

‘What? How come?’

‘There’s… it’s complicated. She just…’