Burning Willow
Gazing deep into the leaping flames it was easy to forget the world had ended. Short Story.
Gazing deep into the leaping flames it was easy to forget the world had ended.
Fire all-consuming.
The Promethean gift.
Primal mother.
Warm. Secure.
Wrathful.
The three of us had been camping out when it all started. First came the tremors. It was a strange experience being amongst the eucalyptus and surrounded by swamp wallabies while experiencing earthquakes.
Then came the great flocks of birds that threatened to eclipse the sun. In the distance, there was dark black smoke — it wasn’t the kind of smoke you saw from bushfires.
We walked the three hours back to the small house. We had agreed to device free camping in the bush. When we arrived the internet and cellphone networks were down.
My property’s solar panels had also been fried. We only had the generator for power but very little diesel. Jumping into my ute we tried to drive out of the valley and into town.
A landslide blocked the only road out of the valley.
In an old shed, an ancient radio sat on a rusted-out Subaru Brumby.
By some miracle, my brother Hunter had a 9-volt battery for his torch that would fit in the radio. By another miracle, it still worked.
We were all sitting on the verandah making tea when we heard it for the first time.
Through static the emergency broadcast:
Relocate to designated evacuation areas. Otherwise, shelter in place.
Worldwide catastrophe. Unexplained tectonic activity. Solar event. Please standby. Message repeats. Relocate to designated evacuation —
Hannah had an outburst in German. The signs of a panic attack began to set in. Hunter held her and tried to calm her. In the end, I had to ply her with valium and lay her down to rest in a dark cool room in the house.
It was understandable. 20. She was in Australia to spend time with her boyfriend. 16,000 kilometres from home. Now apocalyptic disaster.
Hunter was turning the dial on the radio as I came back outside. Every channel played the same message.
“River.” his voice quavered as he looked up at me. “Is this real?”
Hunter threw another log on the fire. Embers swarmed into the air as if they were glowing angry wasps.
“Scheisse!” Hannah snapped as an ember fell on her leg. “Be careful you’ll start a bushfire.”
It had taken her a few days to stop being in constant panic.
At night, I could hear her sobbing and Hunter trying to soothe her. I would stare at the ceiling trying to ignore my empty bed and fading scent of tobacco soap.
Hunter grunted in response.
With the landslide blocking our way out it would take about two days to walk to the neighbours’ house. Five days to walk to town.
We had a choice to stay here or walk out.
Hunter and Hannah wanted to leave.
I said I’d stay.
“How long?” Hunter said not looking up from the fire.
“How long what?”
“Can you last?”
I rested my hand on my chin mulling over the supplies I had in my head.
“A while. The rainwater tank is pretty much full — I can purify creek water. We are always well stocked in case of getting trapped by the flood. I know some of the things that are edible in the bush.”
Hunter gnawed at his knuckles. Hannah watched the flames and rocked back and forth a little.
“I just keep thinking about Mum and Dad.”
“Hunter you don’t have to stay.”
“Chances are they could end up here though,” he responded.
“They’re over a thousand kilometres away.” I heard the words leave my mouth.
Oh my god, my mind began to say, they’re probably dead. The weight of the situation began to snowball in my mind. Closing my eyes I took a deep breath.
I couldn’t succumb to panic. I’d managed the shock this far. I was fifteen years older than Hunter and Hannah. They needed me to be in control.
“What about Willow?”
My heart flinched. All the emotions I bottled threatened to spill out.
It was the first cool morning of the season.
I can still smell the freshly ground coffee. We curled up together on the front deck and watch the sunrise over the valley. We talked about life but avoided the topic of her trip. I found myself lost in her grey-blue eyes like I always did.
That sombre drive into the city and parking at the airport.
Her embrace outside the departure gate that I wanted to last forever.
“It’s only a month,” she whispered in my ear. I savoured the last intake of breath with her in my arms — the scent of the tobacco soap she loved to use.
“Stop!”
Hunter and Hannah looked up at me startled. My voice echoed in the bush around us.
I was on my feet but I didn’t remember getting up.
“We don’t know what’s happened.” I tried to calm my voice, but I was shaking. “Let’s give it a few more days.”
Five days later there was no broadcast.
Fire. The Promethean gift Willow would say. The primal mother of humanity. One of her many poetic observations.
She sat across the fire opposite me. The tips of the flames curved around her form. She rested her face on her hand looking into the fire — like she did the many evenings we had had fires together.
A log cracked and flames leapt up and she was gone.
Hunter and Hannah had been gone for over a month now.
At one stage I had kept track of the time. Every day taking a notch off the handrail on the stairs up to the house.
I stopped after day 30. It was getting depressing.
At first, I thought staying would be best. Somewhere for them to come back to. Perhaps some friends and family would think to come here.
I struggled to justify the calculus about why they hadn’t come back — why no one had made it here yet.
My days were occupied with organising supplies.
Filling as many vessels with purified water as I could. Setting up more means to collect dew and rain so I didn’t have to take the long treks to the creek.
Cutting up wood to keep warm at night — even though it didn’t seem to be getting any colder.
There was only so much that needed doing.
After a few weeks, I began to struggle to keep myself busy. So I’d wander the bush for hours collecting wild blackberries and other bush tucker.
I’d carry around the old radio — switching it on and off scrolling through the channels.
Only static.
I don’t know when she started to appear.
At first, it was subtle, I’d walk into a room and see a figure out of the corner of my eye. Then I’d see her reflection flash in the window.
I moved from our bedroom onto the porch. Covering all the reflective surfaces in the house with towels and sheets. I lay the pictures with glass panes facing towards the wall.
Then every night I’d start a fire and she would sit across from me.
Chin on her hand staring into the flames with me.
Hunter had known I wouldn’t be able to stay stoic forever.
This was a special place for Willow and me. Everything about it was a constant reminder of the life we’d built together.
The last time I saw my baby brother replayed in my mind.
We all stood at the gate — his and Hannah’s backpack laden with supplies.
I hugged them both. I stood and watched until they were well out of sight.
Winter was unusually short. Soon came the long hot days of spring and summer. There had not been any rain since before Hunter and Hannah had left. The warmth had come very early. Something drastic must have happened to the climate.
The sky was always hazy.
Fires and dust in the distance.
I prepared a bug-out bag for when the fires got near. It sat ready in the ute tray by the gate.
My back and face covered in flies I’d work the days away. I spent a few days clearing the grass nearest to the house to create a fire break.
When that was done I tried not to let my mind wander so I cut more wood.
My clothes hung loosely on me. I had to use belts on pants I’d never had to before. I was losing weight which wasn’t smart I guess. You were supposed to conserve energy in emergencies. If I didn’t move I’d start to think.
Think about how the world outside was gone and everyone I had ever known didn’t exist anymore. I’d begin to feel panic rising.
Should I go see?
The thought crossed my mind a few times. Maybe I should go see if the neighbours are there.
But I couldn’t bring myself to leave. What if Hunter and Hannah came back? Deep down I knew it was Willow keeping me here.
So I’d split wood — wood for a fire I shouldn’t be having now. I’d rest staring at the gate and driveway imagining what I’d do if anyone even came down it now.
“No one’s coming back,” Logic said. If they’d found help or survived they would have come back for you by now. There would be a broadcast.
Static.
I didn’t need the fire — but it summoned her.
I’d catch a glimpse of her through the flames.
Every night I’d fall asleep on the ground staring at her.
Warm. Secure. Primal.
I woke up choking.
The crackle of flames roared in my ears. Heat singing my skin.
The leaves above me glowed the smell of burning eucalyptus strong. The smoke was stifling.
My fire had spread while I was asleep. It was beyond anything I could stop now.
Despite the mortal danger, I felt no panic. The need for survival, my humanity reduced to a shell.
“River.” a voice said.
My head snapped around. There she stood amongst flames. Willow hadn’t changed. It was as if the moment I’d watched her walk through that departure gate had been frozen in time.
“Everyone’s gone.” I breathed.
“I know,” she said. She seemed sad.
“What do I do?” For the first time, I felt them. My body shook with the months of accumulated shock releasing.
Tears carved their way through my dirt-covered face until I could taste their salty tang on my dry lip. I sobbed.
She held out her arms. Somehow through all the smoke, I could smell the tobacco soap.
The heat was fierce and the burning was getting more painful. There was still time to run to grab the backpack off the ute.
But all I wanted was to be in her arms. To have her warmth encompass me to feel secure.
To have one more moment with her.
To lose myself forever in those grey-blue eyes.
This was our place. I couldn’t leave.
I leapt into her arms in our final embrace.
Fire.
Promethean gift.
Willow.
I really love this piece, Jessica. There are so many moments that I thought...
"This would make a great film."