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Chapter 1

Apart from the many problems people have to deal with in their everyday life – unemployment, illness, poverty, drug addiction, dysfunctional family – water shortage is the direst.  In 1992, for three weeks, the Merry River stopped running.  It was during this period when Joe, the main protagonist of our narrative, decided to do a survey in the area and see how many people were affected.  What he found out, though, is what you, reader, will soon discover for yourself in the following pages.

For the people living on the Merry River, 1992 was an unforgettable year because the river stopped running, and not few people dependent on it were truly concerned.  According to old-timers, that had happened twice before - some time before War World II and ten or fifteen years later.  It was here on the Merry River that Joe and his family lived for some years now.  Joe was worrying too, and thought that it was time for him to have a closer look into the water problem.  Thus after some consideration, Joe planned to make a personal investigation, or better to say, a survey of the area.  

But why a survey – one might ask?  There were a few reasons why he wanted to do this survey.

He thought: ‘I might find out how many people are pumping water from the river, the number of the water-wheels on the Merry River; the amount of water per day they are pumping, the actual number of people living in the area, the number of households, married couples, children, who are paying Council rates and who don’t pay them, the number of squatters, and so on.

So before setting off on this investigation, Joe compiled a questionnaire for people to fill in.  He was really keen to find out just what sort of individuals populated this place.  He was well aware that in doing this sort of thing he might make some people suspicious, if not hostile to him. But he did not worry too much about what people might, or might not, think of him or his motivation, for he put all his trust in God knowing that, ultimately, his intentions were good.  

So one morning, Joe was on his way, driving his car north, upstream towards the source of the river, which, as the crow flies, was about ten kilometres from home.  About a kilometre or so from his destination, Joe stopped and parked his car along the rough dirt road, then made his way on foot the rest of his trip, for it was too risky to drive any further.  It was a beautiful sunny day.  He felt really elated as he freely breathed the fresh, clean air; heard the calls of the colourful birds; imbibed the fragrance of the plants, of the wood and of the green forest which encircled him.   

Kim

A 4-wheel-drive stopped in front of him.  Inside the vehicle were four men.  The driver, a young man with a long reddish hair and beard, addressed Joe: ‘Where are you going, mate?  …  Want a lift’? 

‘Err… yes, thanks.  I am visiting some neighbours around here…up stream.’  Joe climbed in the car.  Once in the car, Joe had this strong sense that he knew the driver, but he could not remember where he has seen him before.

A few minutes later, the car came to a halt somewhere near a ‘house’ or so it seemed from the outside.  The driver got out of the car.  He entered the makeshift dwelling - sort of between a large cabin and a shed, made out of sundry materials, such as timber, mud bricks, concrete and sheets of metal. They all sat around a large table in a poorly lit room, which looked like the kitchen. A young woman appeared, holding a little boy.  She greeted the group and asked if they would like a drink.  All accepted the offer and she served them tea.  Joe guessed that the young woman must be the wife or girlfriend of the young driver.  He was not sure.

While drinking tea, a conversation took place about unemployment, the dole and politics.  Joe noticed how these young men were so relaxed and calm, not the boisterous type that he had expected to meet in such a place.  They weren’t bad looking, really, just a bit rough.  The woman of the house, although not very stylish in her dress, was not a bad looking lady either. 

Suddenly, Joe remembered: ‘I know who this guy is! This man is Kim.  He’s the guy who was living across from our property and had an affair with our neighbour’s wife.’  Joe continued pondering the past, while his host was talking to his mates.                                             

Kim & Maurine

It was a fine morning in May 1983, when he went to pay a visit to his neighbours just across the gully - the natural boundary between Joe’s property and his neighbour’s.  He went on top of the hill, but there was nobody in the house.  He knew that Sam, the owner had a few cabins on his property.  So he went down to the other small cabin, near the gully, thinking he’d find somebody there.

‘Coo-eeee!  Is anybody there?’ he called out while still some distance from the hut.

‘Come in,’ a feminine voice responded from the other side of the open door. He entered and Maurine, Sam’s wife, greeted him.  Maurine was an attractive young woman in her twenties with jet-black hair, which covered her slender delicate neck.

With good grace, she offered him a cup of coffee.  While she was serving the coffee, Joe observed how bare the place looked.  All the furnishings to be seen there were a small table, a couple of stools and a few kitchen utensils, some hanging on the wall, some standing on the top of the fireplace, which was made of stones. ‘What a joint!’ he thought to himself.   

‘I did not know you were living here, Maurine.  I went to the other house, but nobody was there.  Where is Sam?’ Joe enquired.

‘He left home a month ago for the south.  He took my child with him too.  I am moved here now, for I cannot bear even the thought living in that house – too many bad memories.  Oh!  Joe, what I had to put up with Sam.  He hit me several times for no reason.  He is a very violent person and he looses his temper very easily, especially when he drinks and takes drugs.  I’ve had enough of him…’ 

While she was talking, this new guy entered the room.  Maurine introduced him as Kim.  He was in his mid-twenties, slim, six foot tall and with a grim expression on his face, which seemed to say ‘Stay away from me, man. I bite.’

Kim presence made a strong impression on Joe to the point he couldn’t take his eyes off him. He guessed that this young man sitting in front of him must be Maurine’s new man.  ‘Good heavens!  How easily these people change partners.  They go from one to another and then to the next ……What about the children?  They are the ones who most suffer because of the self-indulgence, stupidity and irresponsibility of their parents’, Joe reflected.

One day, a few months after his first encounter with Kim, he was upset because this very guy was making a habit of opening the gate on the ramp near the river, and not closing it.  This had already occurred a few times in the last week or so. 

‘This is my road!’ Joe mused.  ‘I am the one who is decides if it’s to be  open or closed; I am the one who maintains it and it’s within the boundaries of my property.  No one else has the right to use it, unless I allow it.’ 

…The story was that that part of land had never been surveyed.  Nobody really knew where the pegs were, let alone the actual boundaries.  As a result, a big argument arose between our neighbour Sam and the Saltis.  Sam needed to drive through their property to get to his and he claimed that he had the right to use the road, although legally he did not have a leg to stand on, and he knew it.  On top of that, he had living on his property his squatter mates, who did not care who was who and who owned what.  Kim was one of these people.

‘Gosh!  That bloody morning, Kim almost had me in for a fight!  I can still see him now down at the river.  …Then when I faced him and asked why he does not close the gate behind him, after driving through, he tossed the chain in the air in a fury and barked: ‘I drive my car through here anytime I like and I do not give a f… about your f…g gate.  This is everybody’s road.  And I have the right to use it.’  And he left the scene.’

***************

‘Hello!  Hey Joe!  Can you hear me?’  It was his host, Kim, calling Joe out of his daydream, for Joe was in a trance, recollecting memories of the last past nine years. 

‘Oh!  Sorry, folks.  I was thinking how beautiful and peaceful it is in this place…  You did well, Kim, to come here.  By the way, I want to ask you, how much is it affecting you - the water problem up here?  Is the river here still running?’  Joe asked.

‘We never had any problem here on this end of the River. Living near the Third Waterfall, we have the advantage of getting water from the river by gravity feed, without even the use of a pump.  Water comes into the house through one-inch poly-pipe from there,’ he said, pointing in the direction of the river.  ‘No storage, no tanks; you just turn the tap on from here, the water runs into the sink and it’s pure and free,’ Kim replied.

‘You are lucky.  Downstream the river’s stopped running for more than two weeks now,’ Joe told Kim.  And after saying that he thanked him and the others present there for their hospitality, handed Kim the questionnaire and asked him to fill it in, then left the house.

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