Family Farm (11 page)

‘Look, there’s more help coming. Let’s leave the firefighting to them. We’d better get Bill back to the house,’ Will shouted over the roar of the fire and the churning of the pumps.

Izzy glanced behind her and witnessed the spirit of the bush at its best. A convoy of utes and water trucks carrying firefighters were coming up the track and into the paddock to help another farmer in need. It was a heart-warming sight amid such chaos. Even though they’d been harvesting a few minutes ago, they’d all downed tools, parked their headers and run to a friend’s aid without a moment’s hesitation. It was just one more reason why she loved this place so much. She’d be sure to put a couple of blocks of beer at the Gumtree, the local watering hole, to show their appreciation.

Glancing down, Izzy saw a close-up of her dad’s legs covered in purplish-red burns and white blistery skin. His arms and hands had also sustained burns and looked like they would be causing him severe pain. Izzy looked away. It was all she could do to stop her breakfast from rising up in her throat. With her eyes set ahead, she slipped in under her dad’s free arm and helped him carefully into the ute. Sitting next to him on the seat she poured water from her bottle onto his burns to keep them cool. Will ran towards his truck and grabbed his water bottle as well, then ran back to the ute, jumped behind the wheel next to Izzy and Bill, and sped off to the farmhouse.

Grabbing the microphone hand-piece off the two-way with her blackened hand, Izzy called her mum to prepare her for their arrival.

‘We’re bringing Dad home now. He’s got bad burns to his legs, Mum.’

She heard her mum swear, probably unaware that she was holding the button down. ‘All right. I’ll get the bath filled up with water … Izzy, how’s he going?’

Izzy could hear the panic in her mum’s voice and it began to unnerve her. No – she had to hold it together for Dad’s sake. ‘He’ll be okay. He’s a tough old bugger. Will called the ambos, so they can’t be too far away.’

‘I’ll give them a ring and see what’s the best thing to do,’ her mum replied, still sounding anxious but focused on the need to prepare for Bill’s arrival.

‘Okay. We’ll see you in a few minutes.’ Izzy checked on her dad again. He was pale, and probably in shock, but he still managed to give her a wink.

‘I’ll be okay, love,’ were his raspy words of reassurance.

Izzy glimpsed at his burns and tried to get him to have a drink, hoping he was right. Her eyes found Will and silently begged for his assurance that her dad really was going to be all right.

Will found the pleading look in Izzy’s eyes unbearable. He knew she needed reassuring but right now he had no idea how things were going to turn out. He could barely look at Bill without feeling sick and the smell of burnt flesh was clinging to the inside of his nostrils. He kept playing the scene over and over in his head – the moment of searching for Bill in the hot blackness, like he was in the middle of hell with a blindfold on. The smoke had been burning his lungs, but that was nowhere near as painful as the thought of not getting to Bill. Then, almost as painful was the look on Izzy’s face when she thought her dad was gone. It was the same look she’d worn at Claire’s funeral and it ripped at his soul. He couldn’t bear the thought of this family going through that again. Looking at her now, he felt just as worried as Izzy. He’d never seen so much emotion in her big blue eyes – the outpouring of strength as she supported Bill amid feelings of terror and helplessness. He couldn’t find the words to reassure her so he just nodded and returned to steering the ute down the rough track.

Izzy saw Will’s hands grip the wheel. They were black, except where the skin was blistering. She didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t come to their rescue. Will had clearly saved her dad’s life. He was a genuine hero, and she could hardly continue to hate him now.

Carefully, she leaned across and poured some water over Will’s hands while he was driving. His jeans were black and his checked shirt had countless burnt patches all over it. Will turned and smiled through the black ash smudged across his face. Izzy gave him a rare uncertain smile in return and mouthed a silent, ‘Thanks.’ He acknowledged it with a quick nod, then brought his eyes back to the road. No, she thought. It’s not right to despise a hero.

IZZY watched the red lights of the ambulance as they flashed all the way down the driveway. She had managed to stay composed throughout their arrival and assessment of her dad. Now they’d left for the hospital she didn’t have to be strong for her mum or her dad, and she started to lose her grip.

Will was standing behind her and saw her shoulders begin to shake. It wasn’t until he moved closer that he saw her face. The soft lines around his eyes creased with worry the moment he saw her tears. Then the unexpected happened. Will put his hand around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. She resisted at first, but the gentle circular movement of his thumb on her neck broke her resistance. That and the fact he’d started whispering, ‘He’ll be fine,’ and, ‘Don’t worry.’

The ambulance would take her dad to the nearest hospital, which was in Lake Grace, fifty kilometres away. From there they would more than likely transfer him to Perth by Flying Doctor. Jean said she’d call Izzy that night, with an update on Bill’s progress.

Izzy felt completely lost after her parents left. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing. And she felt awkward and embarrassed about her moment of closeness with Will. She sent him packing by convincing him that he’d done more than enough already, and that he should get back to harvesting, as they were nearly finished.

Sick of twiddling her thumbs and reliving the fire one too many times in her mind, she decided to go into town and put the beer on for everyone who’d helped. She knew they’d all be under the Tree. There was nothing else she could do at home and she wanted to thank everyone personally. Mum would call her on her mobile if she couldn’t get her at home.

The Tree, or Gumtree Tavern as it said on her stubbie holder, was their local watering hole, as the town didn’t have a pub. It was where they all sat and drank and told a few yarns, under the shade of two huge gum trees. The two trees were out the front of the local shop, which also sold liquor, and it had a huge dirt area for parking. The old CWA building was fifty-odd metres to the left and the kids usually ran around its verandahs on a Tree night. You could easily get twenty cars parked willy-nilly between the shop, the CWA and the gum trees.

On her way out Izzy made a note to ring the insurance company to advise them what had happened, so they could make a time to come and check out the header. With the help they’d received from everyone in the district, there was only a small amount of crop burnt, so in that respect they were doing okay. But the header was well and truly a goner.

Ten minutes later she found herself sitting on the old wooden tree log under the branches of the two gum trees enjoying the chatter. The pink and grey galahs squawked nearby and the Albany Doctor had blown in, cooling off the afternoon. It was the first chance she’d had since arriving home to visit the Tree. She’d missed its atmosphere and the friendly faces.

Utes and cars sat parked at random, wherever there was a free spot. Ladies sat with their wines, while kids happily ran about. The men stood around, beers (donated by Izzy) in hand, swapping jokes, or bragging about how well their crop was going, or how great their new big headers were. If it had been a bad year, there would’ve been the constant shaking of heads and sighing among the depressed faces.

Izzy was still in her blackened shorts and singlet, as were all the blokes who’d helped put out the fire. Her hands and arms were patched with black soot and she was sure her face was the same. But it didn’t matter. No one ever got dressed up for the Tree. It was a come as you are, be yourself kind of place, free from judgement. It made her feel so relaxed just being with all the locals, who in a way were like family – people she’d known her whole life, people who’d help at a second’s notice. Yep, there was nothing like a Pingaring crowd.

From a brown paper bag she pulled out a can of beer she’d bought from the shop, revelling in the sound it made as she cracked it open. Putting the can up to her dry lips, she gulped down the first mouthful, which didn’t even touch the sides of her throat. Another big guzzle and she’d be over halfway through it.

‘Hey, Izzy. How ya going? I’ve heard all about the fire.’

Izzy looked up to see Jess squeezing her way through the group. She gave Izzy a hug, then pulled up a vacant milk crate and sat down beside her.

‘I’m fine, thanks, Jess. Just worried about Dad. It didn’t take long for the news to get around.’

Jess’s pale skin seemed to glow among the blackened faces. ‘Are you kidding? You know what this town’s like. Hence the big turnout here tonight,’ she replied.

‘Mate, how lucky was it that there was no wind? It could have been a bloody big blaze, and right near the reserve too. Could have been really bad,’ said Travis, who was standing a metre away, his dreadlocks bouncing as he shook his head.

Old Pete perked up. ‘I know. That header was sizzling away like a snag on the barbie!’

‘Bloody oath,’ Muzza added. ‘The smell when the tyres went up – whew!’

Izzy’s phone rang. She moved away to a quiet spot among the cars to answer it.

‘Hello.’

‘Hi, darling. Where are you?’ Jean’s tired voice was faint over the mobile phone.

‘Just at the Tree. I’ve put on some beer to say thanks. How’s Dad?’ Izzy asked anxiously.

‘Oh, good idea. Your father would have done the same.’ Jean sighed loudly. ‘Well, they’ve transferred him to the Royal Perth Hospital. He’s settled into the ICU for the moment. They say he has burns to thirty-six per cent of his body. He’s on a drip and they’ve got him on antibiotics and pain medication. They’ve dressed the burns on his hands as they’re not as bad, but his legs are going to need some grafts. Looks like we could be here for a month or more, Izzy, so I’ve called your Aunt Sarah and I’m going to stay with her.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’ Izzy’s hand was on her forehead as she strained to hear her mum’s words.

‘No, not really. Just keep the place going until your father’s up to sorting stuff out. He’s on a lot of meds, so it’ll be a day or two before his head will be clear enough to think about the farm. Well, honey, I’ve gotta go. Sarah has just turned up.’

‘Okay, Mum. Take it easy. Tell Dad I love him.’

‘Will do. Bye.’

Izzy snapped the phone shut and slipped it into her shirt pocket, then headed back to her seat next to Jess.

‘Here,’ said Jess, handing Izzy her can.

Izzy’s hand was shaking as she took her drink and she quickly had another sip to ease her jitters. ‘Thanks, Jess. They’re saying Dad’ll need skin grafts on his legs.’

Jess’s lips went tight and her forehead scrunched. ‘Ewww … ouch. Your poor dad. But he’s tough. He’ll be fine, Izzy.’

‘Yeah, I know. Better pass on the news, I guess.’ Izzy stood up and whistled loudly. The hum of voices died down. ‘Hey, guys, I’ve just had word from Mum that Dad’s in the ICU but he’ll be okay. Oh, and maybe give it a few days before calling as he’ll be a bit spaced out. While I’m at it, we want to thank you for your help today. Can’t find a better bunch of fellas to have around when you’re stuck. So drink up. The beer’s on us.’

A cheer went up and a few blokes nearby slapped Izzy on the shoulder.

Izzy knew the bush telegraph still worked well – those who weren’t at the Tree would soon know the latest on her dad and hopefully Izzy would be saved from having to answer lots of phone calls from concerned friends tomorrow.

Izzy spotted Brian and Will through the crowd, their faces lit by the glow of the pink sunset, and decided to go and thank them personally. Brian’s thick bushy eyebrows stood out prominently and Will’s face looked tired but his eyes were bright, probably still burning with the adrenaline from earlier. He was in jeans and a red and black T-shirt, with his sunnies perched up on his head. He was the cleanest of them all. His mum had probably been fussing over his burnt hands.

‘Hey, Mr Timmins,’ Izzy said, reaching up into his tall frame and returning his embrace.

‘Hi, Izzy. How you holding up, love? And it’s Brian, okay,’ he added.

‘Thanks, Brian. I’m doing all right, I guess.’ Izzy stepped back but left her hand on his arm and glanced at Will too. ‘I wanted to thank you both again for getting there when you did, and for doing so much. I’d hate to think what would’ve … You know. I really appreciate it,’ Izzy croaked as her throat began to tighten.

Will put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Just doing what you and Bill would’ve done, kiddo.’

As Will pulled his hand away, Izzy quickly held it so she could study the burns on his knuckles. ‘How are they?’ she asked. They looked red and sore even with the white of the cream over them.

‘They’ll be fine. The cream seems to be working, or it could just be the cold beer,’ he laughed.

His hands still looked painful to her, and she bet he’d have trouble using them for a while. Suddenly she realised he was watching her and quickly let go of his hand. ‘Anyway, thanks again.’

Brian nodded his head and raised his beer in return. For an old bloke he was still ruggedly handsome. Short stubble covered his strong chin and his hairline wasn’t receding like most. Will and his dad made a striking pair. The blue of their eyes kept you mesmerised in such a way that the hairs on the back of your neck would stand on end. Izzy had never seen a blue like it. It was as if their eyes were full of electric currents that gave off little sparks. Silver glittery flecks among a deep sea of blue. As a young kid, those eyes had fascinated her.

‘Don’t forget, we’re just over the fence if you need anything, okay?’ Will offered, breaking her train of thought.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she replied, her determination to keep things afloat coming to the fore. ‘But if by chance I do get stuck, I’ll give you a holler.’

‘We could spare one of our headers and Will could help you finish the harvest,’ said Brian. ‘We’re not far from finishing up, and I don’t mind jumping on to free Will up. I don’t get to do much these days with Will and our new worker running around.’