the house, gusting strongly enough to make the windows rattle. The sound was disturbing and, with increasing apprehension, Ryan listened to the latest news bulletins on the radio warning people that an intense tropical cyclone was heading for the coast of North Queensland and that it was unlikely to miss. More often than not, a cyclone would veer off out to sea or lose intensity before hitting the mainland, but not this time. Even the newsreader sounded tense and on the verge of panic.
‘Residents are urged to head for the Evacuation Centres without delay. The weather bureau cannot advise exactly when the storm will hit but no one should be caught outdoors, as flying debris will be the least of your troubles—’
He realized he should have woken her earlier and left home before.
‘Mum.’ He crouched beside her chair, shaking her gently so as not to alarm her. ‘Wake up. We really do have to leave now – we should have gone hours ago.’
‘What for?’ Joanne awoke with a start, looking bleary-eyed. ‘I don’t want to be caught outside if it’s going to rain. And if we leave now, I’ll miss my favourite soap.’ She sounded petulantas a child. ‘Rose’s daughter is getting married this week and you know how I’ve been looking forward to it—’
Ryan closed his eyes, praying for patience. ‘It’s just a story, Mum. Those people aren’t real.’
‘Not to you maybe.’ Joanne’s lip trembled and her face fell into sulky lines. ‘They’re like family to me.’
Ryan said nothing, suppressing the angry response that would only make her cry. If she were upset, it would be that much harder to get her to move. He glanced around the room, checking that he’d done as much as he could to make everything secure. He had pushed the dining chairs under the table and tied all their legs together so that nothing would move and pushed the larger pieces of furniture back against the walls. Everything that would fit had been stuffed into chests and the drawers taped shut. He had already turned off the power, knowing the electricity company would be closing it down at the mains.
While Joanne was sitting there sleeping, with her little dog in her lap, Ryan had been busy making the house secure, taping all the windows to stop them from shattering in the expected high winds. He could only hope that this old weatherboard home, built on stilts like most traditional Queenslanders’, would be capable of withstanding the worst of storms.
Joanne continued to stare at the blank television set, willing it to come back to life and entertain her.
‘Mum!’ Ryan tried again. ‘The electricity’s off, anyway. We must go now or we won’t get to the Evacuation Centre in time. Once it’s locked down, they won’t open up for anything and the storm’s on its way. It will be here quite soon.’
‘I don’t care.’ She pouted like a child, angry about missing her show. ‘And anyway, you’re just a boy. It’s not your business to tell me what to do.’ She drew herself up and looked down her nose at him; a new habit she had developed when she wanted to pull rank. ‘I’ll leave when I’m good and ready and not before.’
‘Oh, Mum.’ He sighed. ‘Please don’t be difficult. Not now.’
‘I dunno what all the fuss is about. We’ve seen storms before – it’s a hazard of living here. It’ll be a bit of a blow, that’s all.’ She smiled up at him, abnormally serene. ‘Look at you, darling. Getting all hot and bothered over nothing. Anyone would think we’re about to face World War Three.’
‘I don’t have time for this, Mum. I don’t want to scare you but right now there’s a storm heading this way and it’ll be a lot more than just a blow. A full-blown cyclone, category four and gathering momentum even as we speak. It’s massive and nobody knows what will happen when it hits. It will be stronger, larger and wider than anything we’ve seen before.’
‘So what?’ His mother was still unimpressed.
‘Residents are urged to head for the Evacuation Centres without delay. The weather bureau cannot advise exactly when the storm will hit but no one should be caught outdoors, as flying debris will be the least of your troubles—’
He realized he should have woken her earlier and left home before.
‘Mum.’ He crouched beside her chair, shaking her gently so as not to alarm her. ‘Wake up. We really do have to leave now – we should have gone hours ago.’
‘What for?’ Joanne awoke with a start, looking bleary-eyed. ‘I don’t want to be caught outside if it’s going to rain. And if we leave now, I’ll miss my favourite soap.’ She sounded petulantas a child. ‘Rose’s daughter is getting married this week and you know how I’ve been looking forward to it—’
Ryan closed his eyes, praying for patience. ‘It’s just a story, Mum. Those people aren’t real.’
‘Not to you maybe.’ Joanne’s lip trembled and her face fell into sulky lines. ‘They’re like family to me.’
Ryan said nothing, suppressing the angry response that would only make her cry. If she were upset, it would be that much harder to get her to move. He glanced around the room, checking that he’d done as much as he could to make everything secure. He had pushed the dining chairs under the table and tied all their legs together so that nothing would move and pushed the larger pieces of furniture back against the walls. Everything that would fit had been stuffed into chests and the drawers taped shut. He had already turned off the power, knowing the electricity company would be closing it down at the mains.
While Joanne was sitting there sleeping, with her little dog in her lap, Ryan had been busy making the house secure, taping all the windows to stop them from shattering in the expected high winds. He could only hope that this old weatherboard home, built on stilts like most traditional Queenslanders’, would be capable of withstanding the worst of storms.
Joanne continued to stare at the blank television set, willing it to come back to life and entertain her.
‘Mum!’ Ryan tried again. ‘The electricity’s off, anyway. We must go now or we won’t get to the Evacuation Centre in time. Once it’s locked down, they won’t open up for anything and the storm’s on its way. It will be here quite soon.’
‘I don’t care.’ She pouted like a child, angry about missing her show. ‘And anyway, you’re just a boy. It’s not your business to tell me what to do.’ She drew herself up and looked down her nose at him; a new habit she had developed when she wanted to pull rank. ‘I’ll leave when I’m good and ready and not before.’
‘Oh, Mum.’ He sighed. ‘Please don’t be difficult. Not now.’
‘I dunno what all the fuss is about. We’ve seen storms before – it’s a hazard of living here. It’ll be a bit of a blow, that’s all.’ She smiled up at him, abnormally serene. ‘Look at you, darling. Getting all hot and bothered over nothing. Anyone would think we’re about to face World War Three.’
‘I don’t have time for this, Mum. I don’t want to scare you but right now there’s a storm heading this way and it’ll be a lot more than just a blow. A full-blown cyclone, category four and gathering momentum even as we speak. It’s massive and nobody knows what will happen when it hits. It will be stronger, larger and wider than anything we’ve seen before.’
‘So what?’ His mother was still unimpressed.
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