Lachlan Walter - The Rain Never Came

‘Ruby?’

‘Sh.’ She held a finger to her lips, like the youngest schoolmarm that’s ever been.

‘Sorry?’

‘Sh.’

We turned another corner. I saw her trace a line in the dirt on her left arm.

‘Clever girl,’ I said with genuine admiration.

‘Sh. I need to concentrate.’

We hurried on. The commander seemed to be in a world of his own, as if this was merely an everyday walk around a park of rolling hills and grass of the greenest green. Hands folded behind his back, he whistled tunelessly, seemingly content.

‘Ah, almost there,’ he said at some point.

We had been following a long, straight, featureless alley. Ahead, a familiar cyclone fence cut it off, train tracks lying beyond it. We drew up to the fence. The commander scratched his chin, looked back and forth, and led us down an alley that ran parallel to the fence.

‘And behold…’

We stepped around the commander and looked upon a graveyard of scrap that stretched as far as we could see. It was dotted with towering piles of junk: ravaged building materials, broken wood, splintered furniture, useless white goods, abandoned vehicles—it was as if the monstrous wall that had sealed off the Borough had been dumped in a pile in front of us.

I shielded my eyes from the glare, saw some enterprising souls picking through the debris.

‘This is our goodbye,’ the commander said, turning to us. ‘We’ve wasted enough time showing you around, you’re as ready as can be.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me…’

I stepped toward the commander. One of the Creeps flanking him drew his gun.

‘What’s to stop us running as soon you leave?’ I asked, coming to a stop.

I challenged him with it. All he did was laugh. Even Ruby smiled, although it was a bitter little thing. The commander swept his arm to encompass the sad sack of shit our world had become.

‘Where will you go? The Mallee? You’re certainly welcome to try.’ He spat in the dust to hammer his point home. ‘Now, help yourselves to as much junk as you can carry. Use it to make a home or to sell or trade—do with it what you will.’

‘And what then?’

‘And then you wait, like everybody else, for your chance to head up to the line.’ He smiled at me. ‘Good luck.’

He and his escort briskly walked away. I turned to see if Ruby was okay, only to find that she was already darting across the graveyard of scrap, scooting around the towering piles in search of the best refuse she could find.

‘Shit.’

I watched her dig through the graveyard’s crust. She avoided our fellow holdouts, leaving them to their scavenger hunts. I sat down, painfully. I pulled out a canteen, took a long drink, propped my pack behind me, tugged a possum skin pouch from my pocket, rolled some bush tobacco, leaned back, and lit up with Tobe’s trusty lighter.

There was no wind, the smoke lazily rising in an arrow-straight plume.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me…’

Taking the time to do nothing but sit —to rest and think without the constant shock of danger and flight—allowed the reality of our situation to properly sink in. I looked down, saw that my hands were shaking. I hurriedly butted out my bush tobacco, rather than drop it and start a fire. The shakes spread to the rest of my body. I lowered my head. I wept, snuffling, snorting back snot and tears. It was a dam bursting its banks. I gave in, bowed before it.

‘Bill, you ‘right?’ Ruby asked at some point.

I hadn’t even seen her return. She put an arm around my shoulder and my flood of grief began slowing to a trickle.

‘Yeah, cheers. It’s just…’

The words wouldn’t come. Exactly as the commander had done earlier, I swept my arm out to encompass the sad sack of shit our world had become.

‘I hear you.’

I looked at her. She wasn’t crying, didn’t look shell-shocked or overwrought.

‘Sometimes all you can do is go with it,’ she said.

She bounded to her feet, offered me her hand. I took it, somewhat embarrassed, sheepishly letting her haul me up.

‘Now, come on, I could do with some help.’

She led me across the unsteady field of rubble. She was surefooted and confident; I was hesitant and afraid of catching my stick. We stopped at a hole that she had dug and she reached inside, her small hands able to find what others’ couldn’t.

‘Come on, quit standing around.’

I pulled myself together, crouched next to her, tried to help. The thought of snakes or spiders didn’t even cross my mind. I touched something coarse and stiff. I gripped it tight. We pulled. Something gave; we fell back, stumbling.

‘Good one,’ Ruby said, quickly finding her feet and freeing our discovery.

It was an unbelievably old canvas tent, riddled with bullet holes. Ruby bundled it into a rough pile and once again reached into the hole that she had dug. The tent’s awning—equal parts tattered and ragged—soon saw daylight.

I helped her when I could.

‘That’ll do,’ she eventually said.

Some bent steel poles, a broken stool and a tangled mess of guy-ropes had joined the ratty pieces of tent.

‘So, what’s the plan?’ I asked, unable to help myself.

She snorted. I immediately felt incredibly stupid.

‘Better get a wriggle on, then, I guess,’ I said hesitantly.

She nodded, slowly, to hammer the point home.

We gathered our scrap and my pack. Ruby look the lead—I was too embarrassed to admit that I had no idea where to go or what to do next. We trudged along; we must have been a god-awful sight, weighed down like beasts of burden. We soon entered the featureless alley that had led us to the junkyard. We walked it for a long time, and then without warning Ruby hung left and we entered a different alley. From there, without the slightest pause, she led us through the slums to the road that split the camp in two.

‘Nice one.’

She didn’t look at me, her eyes fixed on the courthouse towering over us. I didn’t need to ask what was wrong.

‘Tobe’ll be ‘right,’ I said. ‘He’s as tough as they come.’

She just kept staring, doubt clouding her eyes. I tried to smile, to make her believe the words I didn’t.

‘Hey, it’s okay. I’ve known him a long time, he can take care of himself.’

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

‘Shall we?’

She nodded a second time and we continued our march. The noise grew, soon became incredible. Once more, I had no idea where to go. But Ruby seemed to know what she was doing—she led us down more alleys, confidently taking left turns and then right turns. I followed her, watching as she gave each ruined excuse for a home a thorough once over. Families of holdouts slept in some, exposed to the open air thanks to missing walls. Somehow they had adapted; they didn’t stir despite the din. Belongings and makeshift beds occupied others, while some were completely empty. The people we passed eyed us with suspicion. None of them tried to talk to us.

Somewhere ahead, a dog starting barking. In an instant, Ruby darted off.

‘Hang on…’

She ignored me. Overburdened, I couldn’t hurry after her. I dropped my pack and load of scrap, limped on, found her crouched outside a shack, a puppy at her feet. Ruby gave the puppy a good scratch behind the ear—it rolled onto its back so that she could get to its belly.

Ruby smiled, actual happiness in her eyes.

The puppy noticed me, wriggled around like an upside-down beetle, squirmed from side to side, got to its feet, started barking furiously.

‘Jude, shut up!’

The voice came from behind a threadbare curtain covering the door to the shack. The puppy paid it no mind, kept barking, getting steadily louder. Ruby quickly managed to settle it down. The curtain twitched aside and a grizzled, unshaven face stuck itself out.