The Operators by Barry Heard

Author:Barry Heard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC031010, FIC050000, FIC036000
Publisher: Scribe Publications Pty Ltd
Published: 2019-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Early the next morning, Wally woke feeling bright, alert, aware of his whereabouts, and much calmer. Cautiously, he rolled to one side in the hammock and tugged at the blackout curtain. He could just see people already plodding, making their way up the steep fields beyond the fence. He watched until they reached a certain point where some bent over and began picking selected tea-leaves. His inquisitiveness demanded to know why, why pick only those single leaves and not just cut them all off. Following several pickers with his eyes, he noticed other workers tying bags while squatting. It fascinated him how Asians could be comfortable in that funny squat, their backsides just off the ground and their knees at chin level.

In the distance, beyond the tea plantation, Wally noticed a tall mountain with a shawl of jungle. The peak of this sharp crag hid that rising yellow smudge, the sun. Misty clouds curled around several ridges. Then, just below, a flat man-made terrace followed the contours of the steep inclines. The soil was a rich red colour. Banana trees were planted near the top; the lower terraces grew rice. Such a concentrated use of prime land.

Several of Diyab’s relations worked on the tea plantation. They lugged the bagged tea to the initial transportation pick-up mound, near the end of the path that ran behind Badal’s house. From that mound, it was a twenty-minute walk to the first plants.

Time to get up. The sky had a glow of soft grey-orange.

Clinging fast to the hammock rope and planting a foot firmly on the floor, Wally reached out to the long cord Diyab had tied to the rafter overheard. By pulling himself up, he managed to stand.

He relieved himself behind the vine. He hadn’t been at all surprised when told the dwelling had no plumbed toilet. In fact, Aulia had given him a small wad of toilet paper and a spade.

Next, he walked quietly around the side of the tiny house. Out the front, scooters and bikes started to clog the narrow dirt lane they called a road. It reminded him of Vietnam. Further up, at the intersection with the so-called main road, he could see small cars, motorbikes, tray trucks carrying people, and even more bicycles and motor scooters, all packed in a mad chaos of incremental movement. The occasional large four-wheel drive, BMW, or Audi — vehicles belonging to the nation’s elite — joined the traffic. Few locals owned land here; corporations held the reins.

Inside the house, Diyab’s mother, Selina, stirred the open fire. Wally entered, smiling warmly, and with his hand politely indicated he would like a drink. Moments later, he was handed a cup of sweet tea. He returned to ‘his chair’ out the back and sat.

For the first time in days, he delved deeply into his recollections of recent events. He decided to go back to the beginnings of this journey, to tease out just what he could remember. Yes, he recalled leaving Australia.

The flight was on time, a window seat, Melbourne covered in cloud as usual.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.