Garrett & Sunny: Sometimes Love is Funny by Peter Butler

Author:Peter Butler [Butler, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Peter Butler
Published: 2014-06-08T04:00:00+00:00

The water was putrid: a thick, deep green sludge sat on top and absolutely no aquatic plants grew in it, or around it. Even the large, well established trees nearby were all dead. A big part of the smell was coming from the many dead animals that lay around the edge of the pool. The best way to describe the area was like the rings of a tree trunk. The oldest victims were just piles of bleached bones, then a row of dead animals whose skin still remained partially intact but stretched tightly over their framework of bones. The internal organs had shriveled and disappeared leaving the skin depressed to the extent that the top layer rested on the bottom layer.

The most recent corpses were bloated like balloons as the gases inside had expanded in the heat and the process of decomposition. There were kangaroos, wallabies, rabbits, frogs, birds, even a couple of dingoes, all in these three repulsive states. It was as if any animal that touched the water or fed on the animals that had died from drinking it, also died. This had to be one of the most vile places on the planet and it was clear to all of us that mother-nature was in no way responsible for this outcome.

We were reluctant to get too near the water, but we needed to get a sample for analysis. We hadn't had the foresight to buy some plastic gloves, but Joey's ingenuity came to our rescue... again. He attached a plastic Coke bottle to a long stick, using some strands of tough grass to tie it securely onto the end. At full stretch Truf was able to half fill the bottle and safely retrieve it. We found an old rag in the car and wiped the bottle dry and then cut the grass away with a knife Joey carried in his bag. I screwed the cap on tightly, using the rag to prevent any residual poison from getting on me. I tested it to make sure it was leak-proof and then wrapped it in the rag a stowed it beside the jack in the back corner of the car.

Joey wanted to show us something that he thought we'd be interested in and he led us to the drill hole that the miners had made.

As we approached, Truf said, 'It's a dry hole. They've capped it and moved on.'

The top of the well had a square concrete lid, or slab, that had been poured over it. A metal pole, about the width of a man's hand protruded from it and it too had been filled with concrete, effectively sealing the hole forever. Joey kept going straight past the well and after a short distance it became obvious where he was taking us. We walked over a large mound of dirt and saw that the miners had dug a pit and simply rolled the drums that the chemicals had been stored in, into the depression. They were beginning to rust, but still seemed to be intact.

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