Lachlan Walter - The Rain Never Came

At least until their tours expired, anyway.

Eventually, Ruby and I decided to find some work. It wasn’t just that the rations the Creeps provided were only sufficient if all we did was sit in the shade staring into space; our boredom was slowly killing us as well, dulling our wits along with our hope. With a bit of help from Jacko, we ended up finding jobs as part of a salvage crew. Considering my ruined condition, Mac—the crew’s short, stocky, red-faced leader—assigned me to be a lookout. I was entrusted with a barely working walkie-talkie, told to haul arse to the graveyard of junk, and to call in when some fresh scrap was dumped. Ruby would then come out and pick through it. If the load looked promising, we were to call in again so that a crew could haul it back.

‘Take care of it,’ Mac said, pointing at my walkie-talkie. ‘If it wasn’t for those babies, my business would be in the shitter.’

For a whole day, from some time after breakfast until a little before dark, I sat in whatever shade I could find and looked over the graveyard of junk, waiting for a work detail to dump a load of rubble. Ruby visited me in the afternoon, making sure that I was okay, doing her best to keep my morale up.

‘Bill, how’s it going?’

‘Couldn’t be better, looks like I got the cushiest job of the lot.’

‘Yeah, well, at least you’ve got something to do. I’m so bored…’

‘Sorry.’

‘And I miss Tobe.’

‘Yeah, I know. I miss him too.’

We fell silent. Together, we looked out at a stark wasteland that was like a savannah at the end of the world. Tobe hovered over us like a ghost that wouldn’t pass on, there in spirit if not the flesh. After a while, Ruby got up and left. I resumed my solitary vigil, barely moving, barely brushing the flies away.

No one came. Nothing happened.

When dusk started to roll in, I limped back to the square. Mac was waiting by his stall, arms crossed over his chest.

‘Bill,’ he said, barely nodding.

‘How are you, Mac?’

‘All right.’

I passed his walkie-talkie back. He didn’t thank me. Instead, he started walking away.

‘So…’

‘What?’ he asked gruffly, turning back.

‘Um, when do I get paid?’

‘You don’t get shit for today—you didn’t call anything in.’

‘But nothing came in.’

‘Not my problem. Now, piss off until tomorrow.’

I didn’t clock on the next morning, despite Jacko’s assurances that he would have a word with Mac. Instead, Ruby and I volunteered for one of the Creep’s work details. By some ridiculous stroke of good fortune, we were chosen.

Working for the Creeps was worse than working for a vulture-scumbag like Mac.

The first day, we spent six or seven hours in the sun, repairing fences on the camp’s northern border. The second day, we cleaned a rundown hall, making it comfortable for a First Country caravan that a lookout had spotted on the Mallee. The third day, we waited on said caravan, fetching food and water, running errands for them, showing them around the camp. The fourth and fifth days passed in much the same way. On the sixth day, the First Country caravan having departed, we were sent out to clear some fallen trees that were blocking the train tracks leading in and out of camp.

At the end of every shift, Ruby and I would be handed our reward: a scarred metal token. Every morning, we exchanged the token for an extra half-litre of water and a handful of whatever extra food the cooks—fellow holdouts, no less—could spare. Most of the time, it was barely enough to make up for our labour.

Every night, Ruby and I would stagger back to our shack and collapse, too exhausted to make a futile attempt to see Tobe.

‘This is bullshit,’ Ruby said after our seventh or eighth day. ‘I’ve had a gutful.’

I couldn’t have put it better myself.

One day, the door to our shack slammed open and a Creep strode inside. He walked straight over to me, stuck his face into mine, and looked me in the eye.

‘Bill Cook?’ he asked.

‘Um, yeah.’

‘Come with me.’ Without another word, he walked back out the door. ‘Don’t make me ask twice,’ he yelled, his voice echoing down the alley.

‘Looks like someone’s in trouble,’ Ruby said with a frown.

‘She’ll be ‘right.’

I dithered for a moment, decided to do what the Creep said, and hurried after him. Ruby followed, as wary as I was. Not that there was much we could really do if trouble fell upon us.

‘The fun never stops, eh?’

I didn’t laugh.

We silently wound a path through the camp’s shantytown maze, keeping to the alleys, avoiding the market and the square. The Creep began whistling some jaunty tune, incessantly repeating the same few bars. We kept walking. The Creep’s tune slowly started to drive me crazy.

At some point, the alley we were in stopped and we found ourselves looking upon the courthouse.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me…’

The commander was sitting at the top of the stairs, leaning back in some kind of deckchair. Indolently overlooking his domain, all he needed was a gin and tonic to fulfil his civilised-man-in-the-wild fantasies, the Creep standing at his shoulder a fitting analogue for a native with a palm frond. Scorn and a kind of delighted disgust filled me in equal measure.

Ruby took my hand, forcing me to remember how seriously wrong our world was.

‘She’ll be ‘right,’ I said, my mocking smile fading away again.

Once again, I didn’t really believe my own words.

We watched the commander clamber down the stairs to meet us. He moved awkwardly, his body belying a lifetime of desk work. Scorn filled me again. Ruby squeezed my hand. I let my anger go.

‘Bill, Ruby, good afternoon.’ He looked at us like we were walking, talking pieces of meat.

‘What do you want?’ I asked.

Ruby kept silent.

‘Well, if that’s your attitude, I guess we’ll get straight to business.’

‘Come again?’

He smiled patronisingly, making sure that I knew my place. ‘You’ll see.’ He turned away, climbed back up to the stairs.

‘Tobe!’ Ruby couldn’t help herself.

The commander looked over his shoulder. He smiled; I couldn’t read anything in it. We hurried after him. The pair of Creeps that always seemed to be guarding the doors opened them with a flourish that was both deferential and mocking, taking the piss out of the commander in a way that went over his head.

I laughed. It was nice to find that the Creeps and I had something in common.

The commander turned, looked at me darkly. I shrugged. He obviously wanted us upright, I figured that I was safe enough. The commander cleared his throat in an obvious, petulant manner. He walked through the doors, almost tripping on his own feet. Ruby laughed this time, long and hard. For a beautiful moment, life didn’t seem so grim.

‘If you’ll follow me,’ the commander said, trying in vain to retain his dignity.

We left the hot sun behind, entering a lobby of obscene opulence. Every effort had been made to deny the real world, to recreate the past as a grotesque tableau—it was like walking into an antique. Heavy tapestries, wooden-framed paintings and gilt-edged mirrors covered the walls; an island-bar of leather and chrome split the room down the middle; art-deco dining furniture fought with overstuffed lounges for whatever floorspace wasn’t taken up by statues and sculptures.

‘Our mess,’ the commander explained, without a trace of shame or embarrassment.

We weaved through the insulting display of luxury. I felt sickened by such wasteful uselessness, while Ruby seemed largely indifferent, taking it in her stride as she did most everything.