Scorched Earth
The water fell on John like the long-awaited rain. It picked up a murky stain of ash and dirt as it poured over his tired body and down the drain. He took the loofah with a shaky hand and pumped soap until it dripped onto the white tiles beneath his feet. The suds took the colour from his skin, but he kept scrubbing. Marie gave a soft knock at the door before coming in. She saw him sitting on the floor of the shower furiously scrubbing between his toes; he didn't pause to look at her. She took off her dress and climbed behind him, wrapping her arms and legs around his large frame. Neither of them said a word; they just sat and cried together.
The more he thought about it, the more he hated himself. Everything was gone. They’d waited too long to get out, and before they were ready, the fire was on them. They had to leave so much behind - the photo albums, the animals. Maybe worst of all was seeing their kids’ faces as they watched the forest go up in flames around them.
They’d seen the sky slowly darken and fill with smoke, but still they stayed. It wasn’t until the days and nights blurred into a red haze that they realised they were out of time. They’d done everything they could to prepare for it, but it wasn’t enough.
They’d cleared the area of flammable materials as much as they could. Blocked the downpipes and filled the gutters with water. They’d wet down the ground around the house, took the curtains off the windows and taped the glass to stop it shattering. The bathtub that hadn’t been used in years was filled with water. They had buckets at the ready, as well as wet towels. Then they saw the fire take the far edge of the property in a matter of minutes, saw how monstrous it was and realised they didn’t stand a chance. With no time to think, they grabbed what they could and ran to the ute.
They would’ve gone up in flames with everything else, but the creek bed that cut across most of the property held the fire back just long enough for them to get through. It probably could have saved the farm too if the drought hadn’t been so bad, if it hadn’t run dry months ago. But then, the fires probably wouldn’t have started in the first place if the whole state hadn’t been so desperate for rain.
John didn’t shower for days after they left. None of them did. Once they drove out of the gates of hell, they just kept driving. Marie had cousins in Queensland that were going to take them in, but then they got hit as well. The fires were everywhere and there was no escape. So, they drove to the beach of the Gold Coast, hoping that having the sea by their side would at least give them somewhere to run. The hotels on the coast were expensive though, so they knew they couldn’t stay for very long. Still, even a shitty hotel was better than sleeping on the floor of the overcrowded evacuation centres. Some of their neighbours had been there for weeks; they’d left early enough to save some of their stuff, but they still lost their homes and their farms. There wasn’t really anything that could be done for the animals; there was nowhere to keep them. Some had taken their animals to John and Marie’s place knowing they were going to stay and try to save the place, but most just opened their gates and hoped the animals knew enough to make a run for it.
Their family might be safe now, but they couldn’t feel it yet. No one unpacked their things in case they had to run again, though no one would say that out loud. No one really had anything to say. They were silent for days at a time; each of them trapped by their own pain. Although they all shared it, it was a private pain that words could not be put to, so they stayed silent together. The only sound that came from their room was the tv that was always playing in the background - anything to drown out the noise of their own thoughts.
After nearly three weeks of this, Marie had had enough and announced that they needed to get out of the room and have a family beach day. She went out and bought them all swimmers, and they reluctantly followed her down to the water. Caleb and Marshal splashed in the waves and forgot their pain for a moment, and Marie smiled, thankful for the resilience that kids have. John couldn’t smile though. He stared at them and thought about how he’d almost got them all killed trying to save the farm. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself for that. No matter how hard Marie tried, she couldn’t get him to share that pain with her, she could barely even get him to speak.
“John, I need you to talk to me - to respond when I’m talking to you. I can’t do this on my own. You can’t just abandon us like this.”
“I haven’t abandoned anyone. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You have. The boys are too scared to even speak to you right now. We went through this huge traumatic thing together and you’re ignoring everyone else’s pain but your own.”
“I’m sorry ok. I don’t know how to handle this.”
“Well neither do I, but we’re not going to figure it out by doing nothing and not talking about it.”
John nodded his head and looked down at his feet in the sand.
Marie sighed. “It’s been three weeks honey. The fires are gone, and they said it’s safe to go back.”
“I don’t know, I feel like we should still wait a bit. I don’t know if the kids are ready to see it yet.”
“The kids, or you? If you’d been paying any attention to them, you would’ve heard them last week and the week before talking about how they wanted to go back.”
“Ok fine, maybe it’s me. Maybe I don’t want to see the house I grew up in burned to the ground. Do you?”
“I don’t want to see it either, but I know that we have to if we ever want to start moving on with our lives.”
“I don’t know how to move on from this though. I don’t know if I can just go back to normal after this.”
“It won’t be the same, but we’ll figure something out.”
“You sound so sure that it’ll all be ok, but you can’t know that. What if we’ve lost the farm and insurance won’t cover it, or cover enough of it, and we have to try and do something else. I don’t know how to do anything else. I don’t have any other skills; we’d be completely screwed.”
“You’re getting way too ahead of yourself babe; you need to slow down so we can take this one step at a time. We don’t even really know what’s happening yet.”
“I know, but where do we even start?”
“We start by going back and seeing what needs to be done.”
The drive back to the farm had them all on edge - John more than anyone. Marie had to take over driving because his hands were shaking so much. When she got in the driver's seat, she put one hand on the wheel and one on John’s thigh.
“It’s going to be alright.” She said.
John took a deep breath and grabbed her hand in his. He looked back at the kids.
“I just need to know that you guys are prepared for what we might see.” He said and they nodded their heads. “There’s gonna be a lot of trees burnt down, some of the animals might be burnt up if they didn’t get out in time.” The boys looked at each other. “The house probably won’t be there anymore.”
“We know, Dad.” Said Caleb. “It’s gonna be hard, but we’ll be ok.”
“Yeah.” said Marshal. “We’ve got each other and that’s all that matters, right?”
John shook his head. “I don’t know how we raised kids as good as you two.”
The long stretch of road they usually took home had transformed from a mass of bushland to a black, barren sea of ashes. They drove through it for hours in a sombre silence so that all they could do was look out at the destruction and imagine how much more awaited them at the farm. They each cried their own silent tears, not wanting the others to see.
As they got closer, they could see the water tank that stood at the edge of their property appear on the horizon. The lack of trees meant they could see much further, but it wasn’t until they were closer that they could see the water tank was barely standing. Most of the supports had burned away and there was a huge hole in the side of the drum. They looked around at each other unsure what to say. They drove up the long driveway, seeing for the first time the full size of the property without all the trees in the way. The carcasses of the animals that didn’t make it out sat in heaps on the blacked grass. In the distance they saw the house emerge from the scorched earth. The walls, the roof, it was all still there. For a moment they thought the house had escaped completely unscathed, but as they got closer, they could see the shattered windows and the black scars the fire had left up the walls. Still, it was standing. As soon as they’d stopped, John got out the car and walked up to the front door. He hesitated for a moment before turning the handle, but the door creaked open and welcomed him home.