Burning Eddy Read Free Page B

had to live in town, then my place would look like No. 4 Concertina Drive.
    ‘It looks a mess but it’s just wild. I am getting too old to tame it all. I tend my vegies. Here, look.’
    She took my hand. Her skin was warm and soft and she led me to an open area planted with spring vegetables. It wasn’t a big garden — the size of two car-park bays — but it was packed to the hilt with lush food plants. The fine leaves of carrots, a pyramid of stakes supporting beans with red flowers and long green pods, a neat row of cos lettuce and a border of what looked like garlic plants in full mauve flower. She took a hose and filled a concrete birdbath that was almost obscured by a citrus tree of some sort, and I noticed the birds. High in the branches were blackbirds, sparrows and a lone parrot quietly whistling and chattering to itself. On the ground, a wren family and a shrike-thrush were rifling through the leaf litter, hunting for dinner. It was an oasis for the birds of Carmine, I thought.
    She instructed me on how she wanted things done. Not too much chop-chop — only clear the paths. Her tools were in the shed and the compost heap was beside it. ‘If you run out of things to do, take the ladder and clean the gutters.’
    She went inside. I went like crazy. I cut a hole in the fruit-laden shrub that covered the letterbox. The fruit were green and smelled like perfume — probably poisonous. I gingerly sawed a few low branches off the trees that hung over the paths, raked and then swept them clean. The walk from the drive to the front door was paved in red bricks. With the leaves and twigs that had covered it now backunder the trees, it looked like something out of a glossy garden magazine.
    As I stood and admired my work, a yellow robin flitted out of the bushes and landed on the broom in my hand. To the bird, I was just another tree, the broom just another branch. It froze and watched the leaves I’d swept off the path. It seemed to fall from the broom onto the leaf litter, grab a white grub and then, in a sharp brrrt of wing beats, moved to a branch on an apricot tree. It beat the grub against the branch.
    The old lady stood motionless on the front doorstep. There was a faint smile on her face.
    ‘I . . . I have to get going,’ I said.
    She surveyed my work and nodded approvingly. She disappeared inside and returned a few minutes later with an envelope, which she handed to me.
    ‘Geld moet rollen, ’ she mumbled. ‘You can’t take it with you . . .’
    I stuffed the envelope into the pocket of my shorts.
    She blinked and smiled. ‘You have worked hard, Dan-ee-el, please come to me again. Clean the gutters. Come when you can.’
    I wasn’t at all certain about our arrangements for payment. On every other job, I had agreed on a price before I’d started work. I walked down the old lady’s drive and along about four houses before I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. I ripped open the envelope and was delighted to see a red-orange twenty-dollar note. My mouth dropped when I pulled the money out and found that there were two twenties folded together. I looked atthe envelope and with disbelief at the money, then turned to look at number four. The old lady was standing on the footpath watching me. She waved. I waved back and bowed a little.

four
W O M B A T

    Our Leyland P76 was in the driveway, which excited Toby and Toby alone. Dad was home. We unloaded the shopping from the ute and Mum thanked Tina. Kat was in her room; she would have got a lift with Graham. I could hear her singing ‘Waterloo’, loud and out of tune — like she does when Dad’s home. When she has her headphones on. Toby grabbed a bag of shopping that looked like it was heavier than he was and struggled into the kitchen. Mum and I, both hands full, carried the rest. Dad was at the kitchen table reading a letter. Toby was telling him excitedly about the new coin-operated digger at the plaza. Dad nodded and kept reading. Mum said hello