Lawson

 

 

Jack shot out of bed. “Lawson, you need to get up. Get dressed. We need to leave.”

“Why? What’s happening?” I asked, getting out of bed. I rummaged through my bag and found some briefs and my jeans. I pulled on a shirt and found some socks.

Jack quickly dressed in long pants and a T-shirt. He pulled on his work boots. “There’s a bushfire. I have to go.”

“Where to?”

“RFS headquarters. In town.”

He was starting to scare me. “Where’s the fire?”

“Ten kilometres northeast of town. Oxberry Forest Reserve. Must have been a lightning strike.”

I stopped and stared at him. “Jack, the butterflies…”

He let his hands fall to his sides and gave me a sad smile. “Hopefully we’ll have it under control by the time it gets that close.”

I shook my head. “But Jack―”

“I need you to go into town. Scottsdale has a fire exclusion zone surrounded by kilometres of cultivated farmland. You’ll be safe there. Head straight for the community hall. It’s the town’s evacuation centre. That’s where everyone will be. I need you to go there. Take Rosemary. I don’t want her to freak out here by herself.”

All I could do was stare.

Jack came over to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Can you do that?”

I nodded. “I’m scared.”

He gave me a quick hug and kissed the side of my head. “I know. But we’ll have it all sorted soon. You’ll be fine. Just stay in town with the others. The evac centre gets all the newest updates, so you’ll know everything as it happens. But if you want to leave for Launceston, go now.”

I shook my head. “No. I’ll go to the evacuation centre.” I knew his house was on the opposite side of town to the forest reserves, but I had to ask. “What about your house?”

“The house’ll be fine. Well, if the fires reach here, it means all of Scottsdale is gone, and if that happens, my house will be the least of my worries.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve done this a hundred times before.”

“Jack…”

He lifted my chin and kissed my lips. “I need to go.”

He gave me a butterfly kiss that stole my breath. His lip quirked in a smile before he went for the door, but I stopped him. “Jack. Be safe.”

He smiled at me. “Always.” Then he stopped and gave Rosemary a pat. “You stay with Lawson, okay sweetheart?” He gave me a final look. “Go find Remmy. She’ll be at the evac centre feeding people. It’s what she does.”

And with that, he was gone.

I stood there until I couldn’t hear his ute in the distance anymore, frozen to the spot. Rosemary whined at me and it kicked me into gear. I pulled on my boots, grabbed my jacket and my phone, waited for Rosemary to join me, and pulled the front door shut behind me.

“Come on, girl,” I said, calling for her to get into the Defender. I didn’t bother with the harness. I let her sit in the front passenger seat. I needed to keep her close. I threw the Defender into first gear and roared my way into town.

Scottsdale was well and truly up and awake, even though it was barely five thirty in the morning. Cars, trucks, and people were all out, and already there was a line of cars at the community centre. I slowed down, someone was directing traffic, but I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

I turned off the main street onto North Scottsdale Road and drove like a bat out of hell in the direction of the bushfire.

* * *

I drove by cars who flashed their lights at me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. I’d finally found a species of butterfly never seen before, and I couldn’t allow it to be wiped off the face of the planet. Not without trying.

I barely slowed down to take the dirt road turn off, and I put my left hand out to brace Rosemary as she tried to keep her balance on the seat. “Almost there,” I told her.

As day broke, the clouds were still dark and heavy but the rain had stopped. I could see now why Jack was concerned about the roads after the deluge we got yesterday because they were in pretty bad shape.

The ride was bumpy and we jostled around a bit and slid in the mud, but I could handle it, and the Defender was made for this. I sped past the areas I’d searched the day before, took one corner too fast and slid across the slick muddy road. Instead of hitting the brakes, I accelerated and overcorrected through the turn and we fishtailed out of what could have been a hairy situation.

“It’s okay, we’re good,” I told Rosemary. Or myself. I wasn’t sure at this point. My heart was in my throat.

I went past the spot we’d had lunch yesterday and took the Defender onto the road where Jack had taken me. The trees were rain-heavy and scraped up the sides of the Defender, and when I came to the gate, I didn’t stop.

I simply ploughed right through it.

 “Sorry,” I told no one. I’d be up for a new gate. If Jack forgives me. If I make it out of here alive.

Bloody hell, Lawson. You get yourself into some crazy predicaments.

I pulled the Defender up to a stop at the end of the trail, and leaving my door open, I raced to the back and opened the rear door. All my plastic tubs filled with files and papers and equipment were there, somewhat tossed about. I picked up the closest one, pulled the lid off, and upended the contents onto the floor of the Defender.

I grabbed the now-empty container, Jack’s shovel, which he’d left with me, and ran for the Bursaria bush. Rosemary ran along with me, and I wasted no time. I dug the shovel into the ants’ nest, putting my foot on the shoulder of the blade and dug it into the nest as far as I could. I levered out a chunk of the nest and dumped it, mostly intact, into the tub.

Ants scurried en masse, but I picked up the tub and ran back to the Defender. I slid it into the back and quickly got the lid closed and locked it. I took another tub, upended the barometric equipment into the back of the Defender. Then I did a second tub, which had pruning gear in it, snatched up a pair of secateurs, and ran back to the Bursaria bush.

I searched the underside of the shrub and carefully snipped some branches off where butterflies were seeking protection from the weather underneath. I gently placed them in one tub and secured the lid.

I looked up at the sky then, and in that one moment I took to think, I heard it.

It was distant, far off but frightening all the same.

It was a quiet roar, like a background noise. Rumbling and angry. It wasn’t thunder.

It was fire.

I had no clue how close it was. But there was something missing too. There were no birds. Yesterday they’d been so loud, but now there was nothing. I looked up at the sky again. I couldn’t see smoke yet, but I guessed if I could see smoke this close, it would be too late.

Realising I was out of time, I picked up the shovel and edged it into the soil around the circumference of the shrub. I needed to try and be gentle, but the urgency didn’t permit it. With as much force as I could muster, I pushed the shovel in, as careful of the roots as I could be, trying to get underneath the bulk of root growth. When I’d levered it the best I could, I reached into the stalk of the shrub and pulled.

I ended up on my arse, but the shrub had dislodged and a kaleidoscope of butterflies took to the wing. Some resettled, some fluttered away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I told them. “I’m trying to save you.”

Picking up the empty tub, I plonked the roots of the shrub into it and carried it back to the Defender. I slid it onto the floor of the backseat, trying to do as little damage as possible. I raced back to where the first tub and shovel were still lying on the ground, and Rosemary leapt along beside me.

“Your father’s going to kill me,” I told her.

I collected the tub with the butterflies in it, then everything else I could carry and hauled them back to the Defender. I loaded it all in and shut the back door. I closed the rear passenger door, cringing as some of the Bursaria got caught in the door.

I turned to call for Rosemary, but she wasn’t at my feet. I scanned the clearing and found her at the edge of the gully.

“Rosemary, come!” I yelled. She didn’t move. I patted my thighs and whistled. “Rosemary!” She looked at me, so I knew she’d heard, but she wasn’t coming. “Goddammit, we don’t have time for this.”

Ignoring the huge plume of black smoke billowing into the sky, I ran over to her, fully intending to grab her by her collar or the scruff of her neck if I had to. But as I got closer, she disappeared down into the gully.

“Rosemary!” I yelled, anger and impatience in my tone.

As I got to the embankment, I saw where she’d gone. She was standing near the Tasmanian devil den. “Rosemary, come on.”

She barked at me.

“Are you Lassie?”

She wagged her tail.

No one was ever going to believe me.

I ran down the embankment, and as I got closer to her, she started to dig at the den. Then she barked in it.

Something hissed back at her, which couldn’t ever be a good thing, and she backed up. One of the little devil joeys came out, gnashing its teeth in a half ounce of might and fury.

“Oh, Jesus.”

I couldn’t leave it here to burn to death. I didn’t know much about Tasmanian devil dens but I knew enough about bushfires, and everything to the depth of a metre of the surface was about to get baked.

Including us, if we didn’t get going.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I scrambled back up the edge of the gully, making a mental note to tell Jack that I’d just cursed and it had nothing to do with sex. Which was such an idiotic thought considering I might be rendered to cinder at any moment.

I raced back to the Defender and grabbed the last storage tub. I pulled the lid off and upended the papers inside it, grabbed the lid, and raced back to the gully.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I mumbled as I flew over the edge and almost fell down the embankment. “Bloody hell. What would Jack do?”

He’d take off his coat and throw it over the joey.

Right. I shook out of my jacket and patted Rosemary to calm her and possibly myself. The joey was still out of the den, and I held the jacket out, slowly stepping in toward it. It backed up a little, growling and screeching. I threw the jacket, but the joey scampered back into the den.

Great. Well, it wasn’t going to come back out in a hurry.

Rosemary barked at it, and how she sensed the urgency I’ll never know. But she understood. And so did I. “One more attempt, then we have to go, okay?”

Okay, then. “What would Jack do now?” I looked at Rosemary and she looked back at me. I nodded. “Jack would get his arse out of here, that’s what Jack would do.”

Think, Lawson. What would a Tasmanian devil do?

It would bite the shit out of whatever tried to grab it.

With that as my only game plan, I rolled the jacket around my right fist as best I could, then got down on my knees at the entrance of the den and did the stupidest thing I’d ever done. I stuck my hand in.

Somewhere in my brain remembered an odd fact I’d heard as a child. A Tasmanian devil has the jaw strength to pulverise its prey. Even joeys.

I shook my head and mumbled to myself, “If I survive this, I should have my IQ retested.”

The snarling and growling sounds erupted―there had to be more than one―and a second later, a dull, vice-like pressure latched on my fist, so I slowly, slowly pulled it out. Attached by its teeth to the end of my jacket was a joey, no bigger than a kitten, but its grip was like that of a pit bull terrier.

I spun on my knees to the tub and put the joey in it. Not knowing how to get it to let go, I gently pinched the scruff of its neck the way the mother would, and he let go. I quickly put the lid on and rewrapped my hand. I stuck it into the den a second time. There was more growling, then again something latched onto my jacket. I pulled out the second joey and put it in the tub with the first one.

The den was quiet. There was no more noise, no scurrying, no anything. Not from the den anyway. The sound of the fire was louder, closer. I opened the jacket up, and taking the lid off the tub, I covered the joeys and closed the lid again.

I looked up at the sky and saw smoke. Thick black smoke had crept over the trees. “Oh God.”

I scrambled to my feet just as something else got Rosemary’s attention. Her ears pricked up and she took off up the embankment just as I heard something else.

“Lawson!”

I clambered up the edge of the gully, trying to keep the tub even, but my foot kept slipping in the mud.

“Lawson!”

It was Jack.

Rosemary had disappeared over the top and I knew he’d see her, but I called out anyway. “Down here!”

Jack appeared in bright orange overalls looking a horrid mess. “Oh, thank god,” he said with tears in his eyes. He put his hand to his heart before he held it out to me to help me up.

“Take the tub,” I urged, holding it up. “Be careful with it.”

He got down on his knees and took it, then helped pull me to the top. But he didn’t stop. He picked up the tub, handed it to me, grabbed me by the shirt, and pulled me in the direction of the Defender. “Run!”

So I ran.

Rosemary went with Jack, and I struggled to start the Defender, my hands were shaking so badly. Jack reversed like a mad man and I finally got the gearstick into reverse and floored it. He spun his ute around onto the road, backed up a bit, and waited for me to do the same. When I reversed onto the road, I spun the Defender around, rammed it into first gear, and drove the fastest I’d ever driven. Jack’s front bumper was right on my tail, he was urging me to go faster. Or at the very least, not letting me slow down.

Then I saw why.

In my rear-vision mirror, the tree line behind us was a wall of black smoke and orange fire.

* * *

The drive back into Scottsdale didn’t take long. Given the speed at which we were travelling, it wasn’t too surprising. It was long enough for the adrenaline to nose dive, and by the time I pulled up at the evacuation centre, I was barely holding it together.

There were people everywhere, and Jack’s ute screeched to a stop behind me. I fumbled with my seatbelt, then couldn’t get the door open at first, and when I did, I almost fell out of the Defender.

Jack stomped toward me. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

Right, then. His adrenaline had worn off too, but instead of falling in a heap like me, he was angry. No, actually, he was pissed. At me. And rightly so. Everyone had stopped and stared at our dramatic entrance.

He seemed so big and so intimidating, and his ire was aimed right at me. “For a genius, you can be really fucking stupid.”

I nodded and my vision blurred as tears spilled down my cheeks. “I had to save them.”

His whole body sagged, and he took huge strides so he could throw his arms around me. In front of all the good people of Scottsdale, he hugged me so damn hard, and all I could do was cry. My hands were shaking and, no, not just my hands. My whole body was shaking.

“I need a blanket here,” he called out. He rubbed my back. He whispered against my ear. “You’re okay, Lawson. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that. I was so worried, and you scared the hell outta me.”

A blanket was placed around my shoulders, and I turned to find a concerned Remmy. She rubbed my arm. “You okay, hun?”

I nodded. I felt rather foolish for letting my emotions get the better of me. I wiped my face. “Sorry. I think the adrenaline wore off.” I stepped back so I could look up into Jack’s face. “There were only two joeys. The mother and the other joey weren’t there.”

“Maybe the mother took the strongest,” Jack suggested. Then he blinked. “Is that what you have in the tub?”

I nodded. “We need to take them to someone who can care for them. And the butterflies and eggs. I need to get them into a controlled environment.”

Jack fixed the blanket around me, then collected the tub off the front passenger seat. He carefully pulled the lid off to reveal two little devil joeys huddled in my jacket. The people gathered around all oooohed and ahhhhed, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Jack. “Oh, Lawson,” he whispered. “You went back for them?”

“Rosemary made me. She’s really Lassie, did you know that?” She was sitting faithfully at our feet, so I took a second to give her a pat. “It was her idea to save the joeys. She was barking at them and wouldn’t come back when I called her, and I would have died before I left her behind.”

Jack’s eyes shone with tears. I got the feeling he didn’t get too choked up all that often. All he did was nod, then gave me a hard kiss on the side of my head. He looked at Remmy. “Can you stay with him? Make sure he doesn’t run off and almost die trying to save any more animals. I’ll go and see if I can find Paul.”

Remmy nodded and gave me a bit of a hug. We watched Jack leave with the tub of devil joeys. “Who’s Paul?”

“Paul’s a local wildlife rescue guy. He looks after native animals until they’re ready for release.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Remmy gave me a sad smile. “Oh, Lawson, you should have seen Jack. They got the fire contained on the southeast line, so he came here looking for you. I told him I hadn’t seen you at all, and he took off like… crazy. He just turned and ran. I guess he knew where to look for you.”

Jack was suddenly back with a man who was now holding the tub with the two joeys. Jack gave me a look that said I was in a lot of trouble. “Oh, I knew where to look alright. And when I saw the gate on the reserve had been smashed off its hinges, I knew exactly where to find him.”

“I’ll pay for the gate,” I said.

“Never mind the gate now,” Jack said. “That whole area’s now nothing but charred ground. There’s no gate or fences anymore.”

“The fire,” I said, looking to the east. The hills were nothing but dark clouds and black smoke. “How was it contained? It didn’t look too contained when we were in the mountains. And why are we not evacuating?”

“We pushed the frontline to run up the mountain, making it turn back on itself,” Jack explained. “The two kilometres of cleared farming land between the town and the national park protects the town.”

Paul, the man holding the joey tub spoke then. “You got these two little critters out?” People had gathered around, all clearly curious.

I nodded. “I think the mother and other joey left or died. I don’t know, but these two were all that was there. I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to interfere, but Rosemary wouldn’t let me leave them.”

Paul looked down at the dog and smiled. “Always liked your dog, Jack.” Then Paul looked at me again. He offered me his free hand, which I shook. “You did real good, thank you. We’ll get these two checked over by the vet and cared for until they can be released.”

I was getting teary again. “Thank you.”

Jack put his arm around me and pulled me against him. “Did you save the butterflies?”

“I hope so.” I looked up at him. “I need to leave for Launceston. Now.”

Remmy was somehow now holding a cup of tea and a sandwich. She handed them both to me. “Eat.”

I took them gratefully. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was… Jack went to the Defender and opened the back door. Remmy, Rosemary, and I followed him. There were papers and equipment and books and stuff everywhere. But the two tubs were the most important.

“I collected ants and some live butterflies,” I said, speaking around my mouthful of food.

Then Jack opened the rear passenger door to reveal the entire Bursaria shrub. “And this?”

“I had to improvise.”

Remmy laughed, then looked closer to the floor of the Defender. “Are they ants? Oh God, there’s ants everywhere.”

“They don’t bite,” Jack and I said in unison, making us all smile.

“What kind of butterflies are they?” Paul asked.

“Well, they don’t have a name…,” I said, finishing my tea. “They’re a new species.”

He stared at me. “Wow. Now I can see why you risked your life to save them.”

I nodded, and Jack sighed. I realised this whole me-almost-dying and him-almost-dying-to-save-me might be somewhat of a bone of contention. I frowned. “I am sorry.”

He put his hand around my neck and pulled me close. He didn’t seem to care it was in front of everyone, so neither did I. I looked up at him. “I need to get the butterflies and eggs to Professor Tillman. He’ll have the equipment to save them.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll drive.”

Just then, the clouds opened and rain poured from the sky and people cheered and hugged one another around us. Paul took the joeys, Remmy took Rosemary and ran for cover, and I climbed into the front passenger seat. Jack was already behind the wheel and he leaned over, grabbed my face, and kissed me hard. The windows were all obscured by rain and I doubted anyone saw. I didn’t care if they did. “Thank God you’re okay,” he whispered before putting the Defender into first and driving out of Scottsdale.

* * *

The drive to Launceston started off quiet. The seriousness of what I’d done, how I’d put both our lives in danger, was starting to weigh on me. “I really am sorry,” I said quietly. “But I had to try.”

Jack’s hands squeezed the steering wheel. “I hate to think what would have happened if I hadn’t found you…”

I nodded slowly. “I know.”

“Do you?” he asked seriously.

“Yes. I would have died and Rosemary too because I’d put her in danger as well. She had no choice where I took her, and I’m sorry.”

Jack looked at me for a long moment and shook his head. “I’m talking about you. You, Lawson. I’m not sure what I’d do if…” He swallowed hard and left the rest of his sentence unsaid.

I held out my hand for his, and when he grabbed hold, I threaded our fingers and squeezed his palm. “Thank you for saving my life today.” I lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. His hands were blackened and dirty, but I didn’t care. I kissed them again. “Thank you.”

“Just promise me you won’t do it again.”

I thought about that and licked my lips. “I can’t promise because I can’t say with certainty that I won’t be put in a similar circumstance. If I were to have to choose―”

“Lawson,” he interrupted sternly. “The correct answer is I promise.”

“I was going to say, if I were ever in a position again where I had to choose between my life and that of a defenceless animal, well, that’s really not a choice.”

“Thank you.”

I looked out the window because I was very certain we were thinking different outcomes.

He sighed, long and loud. “You’d choose the animal, wouldn’t you?”

I quickly turned to look at him. “Well, there are many varying factors in this scenario, and I can’t hypothesise to one conclusion…”

He started to smile, and I stopped talking. “What?” he asked.

“Why are you smiling at me?”

“Because you’re adorable. Incredibly frustrating, possibly infuriating, but completely adorable.”

I huffed and sank back in the seat. Still holding his hand, I lifted it to press the back of his hand to my cheek. “And you’re kind of wonderful.”

* * *

We pulled up at the address Professor Tillman had given me when I’d called to let him know what had happened.

He met us out the front of his house, where I made introductions. It was an older style weatherboard home with perfectly maintained gardens, and a single glass butterfly graced the wall by the front door. “Welcome,” he said. “Looks like you’ve both had quite an adventure this morning. Saw it all on the news.”

“Yes, quite.” And we were a mess. I was covered in dirt and mud from the gully embankment, and Jack was still wearing his soot-covered RFS overalls. I opened the back door to the Defender and handed the professor the lighter tub. I handed Jack the heavier one, filled with a shovel full of Notoncus ant nest. I grabbed the shrub from the back seat.

“Come this way,” Professor Tillman said.

We followed him around the side of his home to what looked like a garden hot house, but I smiled when I saw it. “Oh, this is magnificent.”

The professor basically had his own butterfly house in his backyard.

“It’s not bad,” he said modestly, walking inside first.

I dumped the tub with the Bursaria shrub in it by the inside of the door, with Jack one step behind me. The professor slid the tub onto a workbench, and slowly took the lid off. He gently lifted out one of the offcuts of shrub and turned it over. There was one butterfly on it, and it spread its wings in greeting.

The professor laughed. “Well, hello to you too.”

As it turned out, only four survived. The bottom of the tub was a graveyard for five fully grown butterflies. My heart sank. “I tried to save them all,” I mumbled.

Jack rubbed my back. His gentle, wordless reassurance meant so much.

“There are eggs in the roots of the shrub,” I said. “Hopefully they survived.”

The professor beamed. “You did a remarkable thing today.” He went over to the shrub and squatted down beside it. He inspected the mass of roots and dirt and ants for a long minute before he looked up and smiled. “I think you saved the entire order of species, son.”

After we’d secured the four remaining butterflies into a holding tank and the eggs had been safely relocated into hatching nets, it was afternoon. I could barely keep my eyes open. After a day of such adrenaline, I was starting to crash.

“We’ve done all we can do today,” the professor said. “You should get some rest. Tomorrow we can decide where we go from here.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. “Oh, and Professor Asterly has told me he expects to be let in on the discovery. I told him to politely sod off.”

Jack snorted. “I heard that conversation. It wasn’t exactly polite.”

I shrugged and Professor Tillman laughed. “That’s the reason I asked you to find this butterfly, son. That tenacity right there. Not that any other lepidopterist would probably have stared down a raging bushfire to save a butterfly either, mind you. But I knew I liked you from the moment I read your dissertation, which could have been subtitled ‘Everything The Butterfly Association’s Doing Wrong Because They’re a Bunch of Idiots.’”

“You didn’t?” Jack scoffed and looked at me with wide eyes. I shrugged.

“Yes, he most certainly did,” the professor answered. “Best thing I ever read. I told the commissioner for endangered species something similar back in ’78, so I knew you and I would get along just fine.”

I found myself smiling at the old man. “Sometimes people need to hear things they’d rather not hear. It doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be said.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

I fought another yawn, and Jack shook Professor Tillman’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, but I better get him home or he’ll be asleep on the floor.”

“Yes, this day is catching up with me,” I admitted. “But I’ll be back after breakfast. Thank you, Professor Tillman.”

He smiled. “Thank you. The butterfly’d be lost if it weren’t for you. And please, call me Warner.” Then he paused. “And you better get thinking on a name to call it. The butterfly, that is. You found it, you name it.”

What? “Oh, no… I couldn’t do that. And anyway, I’d have never found it if it weren’t for you. Actually, I wouldn’t have found it if it weren’t for Jack. He took me to look at some Tasmanian devil joeys and that’s when I found them. But I wouldn’t have even been in Tasmania if it weren’t for you.”

Warner put his hand up like it was final. “You found it, you name it.”

“Then I shall name it the Tillman Copper, after the man who found it first.”

Professor Tillman’s eyes got watery and he cleared his throat. “Well, then I’ll be honoured.”

I beamed at him.

As we were leaving, he waved his hand at the shrub I’d dug out of the mountainside and bought with us. “You boys take the Bursaria. I’ve got plenty of it here. Plant this one somewhere, see what it might attract.”

I smiled at Jack. “I know the perfect place.”