Settled on the Coast: Outback Exodus, #2

Chapter 1

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I stand here with tears streaming down my face as I read the small notebooks that belonged to my late mother. The words take me back to a time I can barely remember and her diaries bring those days back to me. The memories she had prior to the birth of my brother and I are now a part of the story of our family, the village of New Gordon and the reasons why we live here as we do. Mum’s diaries contain the story of her epic journey from the Outback to the Coast with so many of the people of Gordon. These diaries were kept up through that journey and for the rest of her life. Every significant thing that happened to Mum and to Gordon is in those diaries. No wonder Mum always wanted me to keep a diary too and trained me to write in it every day. Mum’s diaries and mine now tell of the history of the settlement of Gordon.

Mum has been gone for a week now; James and I are now sorting out the few belongings that Mum kept in her tiny cottage. She lays beside Dad, Gran and Gramps and Poppy James in the family plot at the graveyard just a few minutes’ walk away from the village. From the open door I can see the fresh scar of her grave, brown against the faded gold of the drought stricken grass. Wild flowers are strewn over the brown scar, those flowers gathered lovingly by her children and grandchildren and many members of the village that she gave her love to over the years, flowers that are withering and turning brown in the super-heated summer air.

What will we do now, so many of our leaders have died and we will miss their wise council at times when the village is in danger or nature rears her head and the storms and earthquakes arrive?

Dr Helen is still alive from the original committee though her health is failing now. Aunty Jazzie is still going strong; her body is becoming fragile now as she ages. She has become a valued elder within the community and has taken up a role on the committee that runs the village as others have become too frail or have passed on. Aunty Jazzie has become the voice of experience and reason in a world that has changed completely during her life time.

So many secrets are to be revealed by these diaries and I am anxious to read them. There is so much more to learn about my family and the history which is such a part of us and the village here. It spells out the relationships between different families. Mum had a wall chart that she drew on a sheep skin which shows who is related to whom within the community and has prevented intermarriage so often. The fear of inter breeding and the complications are very much to the fore, Dr Helen has emphasized this so very often during the talks she gives to the older children. I put the diaries aside and walk across the room to the cupboard that Dad built for Mum. Here is where I will sort through the clothes that Mum has stored away along with all the little treasures she has hidden away during her lifetime here in Gordon.  There are small wooden boxes that Gramps made for Mum and for Aunty Jazzie and those boxes are full of family papers and contain some of the old money, jewellery that belonged to Granny and sundry little treasures. These boxes are piled on the bed to be taken home with me later and sorted through. The jewellery will be divided between my brother’s wife, my daughter Jenn and me.

I quickly go through the clothing hanging on homemade hangers in the long cupboard on the side of the room. I sort out those items that are still serviceable. Many have worn to a thinness that makes them almost transparent and have that softness that comes from years of washing and wearing. Tucked in the corner at the very back is a covered bundle of clothes. I lay them gently on the bed and pull away the old blanket that has been used to protect them from the light and dust. I gasp as I see the contents and sit down heavily.

My father’s Police Uniform has been hidden away for many years and is still as bright and unmarked as I remember it the last time I saw it many years ago. Dad would only take it out every now and again to check that it was clean and serviceable. It is my belief that he always held hope that one day civilization would again come to Australia. After Dad died ten years ago Mum must have put this away then and kept it hidden away. My thoughts go to the many evenings where she would sit alone in the cottage and I wonder if she ever opened this bundle and just looked at it. The love between my parents never wavered during the years they were together and the sorrow of Dad’s death never left my Mums eyes. During those ten long years every time she spoke of Dad there was a special catch in her voice when she mentioned his name. To be so loved during our lifetimes is a dream of most humans.  Mum carried that love in her heart through Dad’s death and through the rest of her life.

There are worn out shoes hidden at the back of the cupboard too, including what was once a beautiful pair of very high heeled shoes that Mum had worn to many parties over the years. The red velvet is now almost worn away and the heels are stained and damaged from walking on the grass. Mum had not worn them for a long time, but she had kept them for the memories they brought to her. Dad’s boots still sit in the cupboard and although the leather is cracked now and dried they still retain the shape of his feet. There are shoes too from the time that my brother James and I were children, tiny sandals made from old tyres and leather straps. Boots made from the skins of the sheep that were killed for the table with more soles made from old tyres. All are worn and the leather is stiff and dry, but they still have a lot of wear left in them. My children will benefit from these and the mutton fat I have stored away will soften the leather to make them wearable again.

The pile to give away grows larger as I burrow further into the cupboard. Clothes that are not too worn will go to the families who need them as will the blankets and furnishings. Some things I will keep though and those will be taken across the grassed area of the village green to my own home. Many things will be kept for the memories they retain of my family and these things will be divided between James and me and our families.

I am living in my grandparents’ house now as I have taken on the care of the elderly and sick and the old house has become the village hospital. Doctor Helen took me under her wing when I was young and has taught me all she knows about medicine. Some of it dates back to before 2013 and the earthquake and some dates back even further to the ancient times when herbs were all that people had. That is the case now and we use the herbal cures that have been handed down through generations and grow the plants in our little gardens around the cottages in New Gordon. As Doctor Helen has aged I have taken on more and more of the workload and now Helen acts as the Consultant when I am unsure what I am dealing with. It is such an honour for me to follow in her footsteps and in the footsteps of my mother who was a nurse for many years and performed her medical duties along with helping to manage this village and its community. Mum was always here to help with the sick and injured. Gran cared for many of the elderly during her life time as she was in turn cared for during the last years of her life. I remember Gran as a little white haired lady always full of energy and bustling about the village. Gran was always taking care of everyone; most of all I remember her taking care of Grandad. Grandad became very ill during the last years of his life and took more and more time to care for as dementia meant that he was no longer the person he had once been. Gran was always there though, making sure that he ate and had clean clothes and was washed. Talking about all the things that were going on was Gran’s way of trying to keep Grandad here with us, but proved useless as time passed and the person that Grandad became was not the man any of us knew. Gran was the same with the other frail elderly folks that had come to Gordon and many of them owed their comfort and health during their later years to Gran. Her dedication to the care of others was legendary in the village and the surrounding area.

Gran and Grandad became the mainstay of the people of Gordon during the transition time from living in a world that was reliant on so much electronic equipment and the technology of the day to a world that had gone back in time to when they were younger. With the other older men and women they taught the early settlers of Gordon how to live in a way that would sustain us all without all the things that the younger people had taken for granted. Without the computers and games that the children had come to rely on for entertainment Grandad, Gran, Poppy, Bert, Alice and Richard taught us the games from their childhoods and now our generation has passed these games to the next generation of children. Building skills are taught to the children in the school and all children are taught to care for themselves, grow their own food, hunt for meat, fish in the river and make the things that we cannot barter for with the families that have stretched out and settled on the great flood plains of the area.

There is little to show for the damage from the huge earthquakes that destroyed the world that my parents knew, just some scars on the flood plain where the old road used to cross the valley. There are also the remains of the bridges that crossed the rivers and took the cars over without the need for the ferry or fords that we now use. The old road went from the big city of Sydney to Brisbane and beyond. Places I have never been to as they are many days travel from here and the furthest I have travelled has been from Gordon to Williamsville a two day trip. Travel is still done with a horse and cart or on horseback and is slow and only undertaken during the dryer months due to the risk of flooding from the huge rivers that cross the plains.

We have a wonderful life here in Gordon and are safer than if we were living in the big cities. The big cities are where the gangs roam still and fear controls the populations. Law and order is not maintained the way it is in Gordon thanks to my Dad and to Uncle Steve. With both of them being Police Officers they adapted the laws that they had always upheld before 2013 to the world they were now living in and Gordon became a safe place to live. The law here is now upheld by my brother James and Uncle Steve’s son David. They both hold positions on the committee that still runs the village. I hold a place on the committee now too due to my being the Doctor and supported by Dr Helen I help to maintain the health of the village and the surrounding areas.

I look up from the pile of clothes that I’ve been sorting and realise it is almost sunset and time for me to head back to the hospital to check on the two patients I have there at the moment. One is elderly and fragile; the other is recovering from a broken leg sustained in a fall from a horse a few days ago. Auntie Jazzie has been keeping watch over them for me today while I sort through the few belongings left in Mum’s cottage.  It is time to send Auntie home to have some rest while I take over the care for the night. Sighing I leave the pile of clothes on the bed and picking up Mum’s diaries and the boxes of jewellery and papers I walk across the green space in the centre of the village towards the small white house with the peeling paintwork to begin my night’s work.

Chapter 2

Thomas is home from the farm at the bottom of the hill and has already moved the stew pot from the back of the fuel stove to warm through for dinner tonight. Our children Gavin and Jenn are sitting at the table clean and dressed for bed and the warmth from the fire is heating the kitchen against the chill of the coming winter’s night. I drop a kiss on Thomas’ cheek and give the children a quick hug as I walk through to the large front room and check on Betty and David. Betty is sleeping and her breathing is changing to the scattered breathing of death, time is running out for her. David is sitting in the chair beside his bed with his splinted leg propped on a padded plank slid in under the grass filled cushion on the chair. The last rays of the setting sun are bringing a warm pink light to the room and Auntie Jazzie is just lighting the tallow candles that stand ready on the desk in the corner.

Hello Jacqui how is the sorting going over at the cottage? she asks as she turns her now white head towards the door.

It’s going very slowly I’m afraid. I keep getting distracted as I find things that bring back memories. I say quietly as I place the large pile of diaries on the desk.

I can understand that honey. It’s such a hard job to do to sort out the belongings of a lifetime. The decisions are always hard. I remember when your Mum and I had to sort through the house here. It seemed to take ages and the tears flowed often when we found things we remembered from our childhoods. Auntie Jazzie’s voice cracked with age but still strong and vibrant fills the room.

David looks up and asks, Are you okay girls? The concern etched amongst the lines of pain in his face. That leg is giving him more pain than it should, but the herbs are not working well for him and I am going to dive into the herb books tonight to find how to make a stronger brew to take the pain away. Until then I hand him a bottle of the Whiskey that is brewed from the water that cascades down the George Falls and he gratefully sips from the small amount he pours in a clay beaker beside his chair.

"We are fine David, it’s just one of those hard jobs to do and James and I have to get this