there for years and Ferg doubted it was going anywhere, he jogged over to Samâs yellowed window to take him up on his offer of a few days back to help with pruning.
Liza turned and faced the other glass wall, met its streaked, metal-reinforced pane more for a different view than any other reason; more because she realised that her time spent in the shower was always devoted to the three other walls. Just another meaningless habit, she thought, but the new view was surprisingly different.
She was tired, but she didnât know why. She hadnât been all that busy recently, and at nights she slept well, long and heavy sleep that was difficult to emerge from.
Pip was in bed already, probably engrossed in some sweeping eight-hundred-page historical saga with a box of Turkish Delight beside her. Sam and Ferg were outside with the marri and the torches. Liza thought of climbing into bed with the doona around her and a book â one of the many she had on the go but was too unmotivated to finish â or a good magazine for instant gratification.
âOver to your left, Dad,â Sam indicated with the light of the big Dolphin torch. âBit further, yep, that one.â
His dad had the hacksaw out, and was trying to fend off the other branches taking swipes at him as he crouched on the top rung of the ladder. The skin on Samâs knuckles was pulled tight from holding on to the ladder so hard, but the wind was real strong and there was no way he was gunna let his dad come off just because he couldnât hold it properly.
âYou alright up there, Dad?â
âJust hang on to that damn ladder. Howâs that looking? Is the line clear now?â
Sam craned his neck as far left as possible, and shone the torch over without adjusting his grip. âUm, yeah, itâs still swinging pretty close, but itâs not touching the line. I think. Can you come down and check?â
Ferg looked back as he put each foot on the rung, breathed out when he reached the bottom.
âCan we have a beer after this, Dad? Like on the Emu Export ads?â
âSam!â Ferg grinned at him. âNot with your grandmother in the house, sheâd have a bloody coronary!â After a moment, leaning down to Sam conspiratorially, he said: âBut you can have a sip of mine.â He looked back up at the tree, black leaves moving about. âHowâs that Vultran guy of yours going?â
â
Valstran
, Dad, jeez!â
âOh, you know what I mean.â Ferg moved the ladder around.
âWell, heâs landed at Sawan and the Sawan people are flocking to Lumptor, which is the last place in that universe that has the red springs they need.â
âAnd where are they gunna go when he makes it to Lumptor, which is only a matter of time, presumably? Can you hold the ladder again, mate?â
Sam steeled himself against the ladder. âUh, I dunno, Dad. Maybe there are mountains there or caves or somewhere else they can hide. And there might be natural stuff at Lumptor they can use against him. Like, I dunno, maybe some biochemical or something.â
âWhat, as in biological warfare? Sounds serious.â Ferg tapped the hacksaw on a branch. âThis one?â
âYep, that one. It
is
serious. They have to do something, right? Dad â¦â
âMmm?â He was sawing away. Every minute or so heâd let his arm drop down and hang for a while to refill with blood before shaking it back into action.
âIs everything alright with ⦠you ⦠and Mum?â
Ferg stopped sawing. He looked down, descended a couple of rungs, sat. âSam, of course, everythingâs
fine
with your mum and me. Weâre
all
fine.â He paused. âHow about you, are you okay?â
Sam nodded. He couldnât say anything. His heart was shifting about all over the place. The marriâs leaves were warped and bubbling above him. Other people thought they looked diseased,
Liza turned and faced the other glass wall, met its streaked, metal-reinforced pane more for a different view than any other reason; more because she realised that her time spent in the shower was always devoted to the three other walls. Just another meaningless habit, she thought, but the new view was surprisingly different.
She was tired, but she didnât know why. She hadnât been all that busy recently, and at nights she slept well, long and heavy sleep that was difficult to emerge from.
Pip was in bed already, probably engrossed in some sweeping eight-hundred-page historical saga with a box of Turkish Delight beside her. Sam and Ferg were outside with the marri and the torches. Liza thought of climbing into bed with the doona around her and a book â one of the many she had on the go but was too unmotivated to finish â or a good magazine for instant gratification.
âOver to your left, Dad,â Sam indicated with the light of the big Dolphin torch. âBit further, yep, that one.â
His dad had the hacksaw out, and was trying to fend off the other branches taking swipes at him as he crouched on the top rung of the ladder. The skin on Samâs knuckles was pulled tight from holding on to the ladder so hard, but the wind was real strong and there was no way he was gunna let his dad come off just because he couldnât hold it properly.
âYou alright up there, Dad?â
âJust hang on to that damn ladder. Howâs that looking? Is the line clear now?â
Sam craned his neck as far left as possible, and shone the torch over without adjusting his grip. âUm, yeah, itâs still swinging pretty close, but itâs not touching the line. I think. Can you come down and check?â
Ferg looked back as he put each foot on the rung, breathed out when he reached the bottom.
âCan we have a beer after this, Dad? Like on the Emu Export ads?â
âSam!â Ferg grinned at him. âNot with your grandmother in the house, sheâd have a bloody coronary!â After a moment, leaning down to Sam conspiratorially, he said: âBut you can have a sip of mine.â He looked back up at the tree, black leaves moving about. âHowâs that Vultran guy of yours going?â
â
Valstran
, Dad, jeez!â
âOh, you know what I mean.â Ferg moved the ladder around.
âWell, heâs landed at Sawan and the Sawan people are flocking to Lumptor, which is the last place in that universe that has the red springs they need.â
âAnd where are they gunna go when he makes it to Lumptor, which is only a matter of time, presumably? Can you hold the ladder again, mate?â
Sam steeled himself against the ladder. âUh, I dunno, Dad. Maybe there are mountains there or caves or somewhere else they can hide. And there might be natural stuff at Lumptor they can use against him. Like, I dunno, maybe some biochemical or something.â
âWhat, as in biological warfare? Sounds serious.â Ferg tapped the hacksaw on a branch. âThis one?â
âYep, that one. It
is
serious. They have to do something, right? Dad â¦â
âMmm?â He was sawing away. Every minute or so heâd let his arm drop down and hang for a while to refill with blood before shaking it back into action.
âIs everything alright with ⦠you ⦠and Mum?â
Ferg stopped sawing. He looked down, descended a couple of rungs, sat. âSam, of course, everythingâs
fine
with your mum and me. Weâre
all
fine.â He paused. âHow about you, are you okay?â
Sam nodded. He couldnât say anything. His heart was shifting about all over the place. The marriâs leaves were warped and bubbling above him. Other people thought they looked diseased,