mending fences

Lets take a trip down memory lane. It's quite a fitting phrase considering the story begins on a road where I was driving my car, strangely enough.

.It's Friday afternoon
and my mother is now safely on her way to Brisbane for a feminine vacation with her girl-pals. Because of this, it's up to me, the non-drinking driving license holder, to pick my brother up from work. That plan is executed without a problem. That is until my brother informs me of a little predicament.

.Sigh
he didn't return the warehouse keys and instead took them home with him. This isn't good because he doesn't work the next day and I'm pretty sure the store won't fare too well without the amazing ability of keys. So I take him back. We're halfway there, travelling smooth, my car appearing to be in good shape compared to previous drives, when a cockatoo decides now is a good time to fly low and blind across the street. With two distinct thuds it went down in a curtain of its own feathers. Sad to say, it wasn't quite alive as it would have hoped.

.Traffic must go on!
i silently mourned the loss of the bird, wandering why it would choose to fly so low. It wasn't until I drove past the scene that I realised it just wanted to join his feathery friends on the other side, feeding in the grass. I swear, they eyed me suspiciously. I was almost relieved to notice no trace of police or other authorities and I was almost disturbed to notice I'd care less about hitting a person...

.But really,
"there's a cyclone on its way," I'm told by my weatherholic brother. This is interesting because we haven't had a cyclone in a few years. It's also interesting because I had no idea it existed.

.Driving 101
There's a Stop sign on the last intersection before the turn-off to our house. I have many experiences with this particular Stop sign - stalling, near-accidents - but none quite as random or unexpected as what happened. Of course, I stopped at the Stop sign, as you do. Now, imagine for a second that you're running and take a 3 second break. When you begin to run again, your legs hardly move and you just stop. Completely, utterly, cannot-move-again stop. That's what my car did. It was working fine, if not better than it has in a while, right up until it literally stopped halfway across the intersection. It was the perfect scene for a movie. Only things missing were screaming idiots in the car and something that you wouldn't want to stop near. Calmly, my brother and I pushed the inert vehicle off the road, to the amusement of another driver who, ironically, had stopped at the Stop sign.

.Sigh II
it's hot. It's midday hot - the sun being at its zenith in the sky and baking the ground. I'm sitting in the car contemplating the heat, having sent my brother out to walk the 500m to our house. He returned some minutes later with good news.
"RACQ are on their way."
"Cool. You know, we could have pushed the car home..." I said in a rush of thought.
"I was thinking that but couldn't be bothered turning around. You know when you can't stop running because you won't be able to start again?"
I nodded, thinking of water.

.Then the bad news
well, not that bad. I mean, it was just that the wrong intersection was logged to RACQ. I still imagine them turning up to the intersection down the other end and wondering where the hell this car was. That or they'd be shaking their head and muttering something along the lines of: "Another ditcher."
In any case, it was soon fixed and so we waited.

.And waited
dogs barked, residents came and went. Some even ventured out and peeked at us with annoying curiousity, as if seeing a car broken down off the road was the highlight of the year. The headlines in the paper would read "Car stopped at Stop sign" and there'd be interviews, scandal, rumours. I'd be quoted as saying "Water" and "I cannot confirm nor deny that I was the driver who hit that cockatoo."
Sitting in the car gave me time to reflect on an event that still boggles my mind. A helicopter crashed - yes, crashed - up the road from where I was broken down. It's odd because it happened on the street behind my house yet I didn't hear a thing and I never got to see it because they wouldn't allow sight-seers. It gave me the awesome idea that you should be granted VIP access to exciting events that occur near your house. Like helicopters crashing in the middle of the street or cars broken down off the road. I was disappointed to notice there was little commotion around my predicament. Stupid curious residents.

.Sigh III
"it's either the immobiliser or the ignition. Try starting it in a few hours: if it starts, it's the ignition. If it doesn't, it's the immobiliser." the RACQ guy informs me. I started it a day later. It was the immobiliser.

.Wouldn't be without them, would you?
RACQ. The mobile mechanics, so to speak. Some are questionable, others are genuine. Either way, the idea is you call them, they come to you and (hopefully) get you going again. Could be a flat tyre, dead battery, retarded driver, whatever. You can subscribe to them and it's easier (and cheaper) or you cannot. On this fine day, I was towed home. I've never been towed before and was given a C for my effort. I almost caused my car to be ripped apart. Kick arse.

.It's Monday morning
i can sense the weather at 2am. It's been coming all weekend and you notice the subtle changes - the still quiet before the storm. Birds silent and waiting, the air dead calm and deceivingly peaceful. Last I checked it was going to miss us by a hair on the map after it appeared to be making a determined path straight towards Cairns. It was a waiting game; you know it's there, you know it's coming and you just wait. I noticed the first breeze at about 2am and from there it started with gales that I could sense more than hear or feel. I looked outside at 3am and was surprised by the wind. It was so close.

.4am
i made for bed, only to realise everybody was getting up. It was here. A weekend of waiting and it was here. I sat and watched some TV, made a last cup of tea and listened to the winds ravage outside, peaking and calming for hours. It wasn't until it was light enough that I could see the true awesome power of the most devastating winds. Trees were thrown forward, bracing against the onslaught of raw nature. The powerful winds were like explosions, not a constant stream. As if some giant was taking periodic deep breathes and letting it loose over the city. The fence was the first to give in. The neighbours on the side the winds were coming from have open yards, leaving no interruption to the exploding winds and as such, the fence was subject to the full force of every breath. Some pieces made it across the yard, others were trapped or stayed on the ground. A small shelter recently built was torn apart and ravaged by the maddening winds. One piece was blown into the neighbours' yard on the opposite side. I'd seen nothing like it and it fascinated me. I was awestruck everytime the relatively calm winds were replaced by explosive gusts that ripped and tore at everything in its path. Every so often I'd try and imagine winds that were double what I saw. Winds that were present further south, a mere few hours away. I couldn't comprehend it. I stared as the fence blew back and forth, resiliently holding its ground - for the most part - against the intense, demanding weather. It was strange watching something so sturdy being thrown around by an invisible force. That's what struck me the most; you never actually see the wind. You just feel it and see everything else feel it. The fence wasn't going anywhere, its strengthed lied in its newfound flexibility and aerodynamic approach - toppled over and angled into the wind instead of withstanding it. Of course, you wouldn't think that when you watch pieces break off, or when you see the winds tear at it.

.Like a baby
it was hard to tear my eyes away from it all, but in the end I had to sleep. Power had at last flickered off and I had yet to rest. I crept into bed despite the now familiar explosions and howling of the winds outside. I closed my eyes and thought about the tennis ball that hadn't moved an inch the whole time I saw it. I thought about the fence, the trees, the power, the heat. And then I slept.

.Power
we had none for 2 days. On the first night, I drove out to fetch food. Takeaway was the obvious choice but every place was either closed or too busy. We (my brother, his friend and I) settled on a KFC located in town. It wasn't as bad as another shop that had traffic in the drive-thru. We waited.

.And waited
people everywhere. Police, hobos, tourists, everybody. The line crept forward at a painful pace. I was willing to start a scene that would disrupt the whole queue so my brother and his friend could sneak further up as I distracted everybod. I realised it wouldn't be such a good idea if I was arrested, seeing as I had the only means to get from Point A, crazy town to Point B, home. I noticed the girl in front of us was in what appeared to a work uniform. She seemed gothic and just as I was deciding whether she was or not, the girl turned to me and it was confirmed - black mascara, poetic-reading eyes and a forlorn expression. At the counter she rested her head in her arm. Tired, I thought. Long day at work.

.Think again, genius
she fainted right in front of me and the guy in front. As a guess I'd say drugs or epilepsy - she was shaking on the ground. I stared dumbly at her and realised I didn't know what I should be doing. I'd already failed Heroism by letting her fall unhindered. The police came to the rescue. I love it when authorities are around like that.
"So, why didn't you do anything?" a curious someone would ask.
"Oh, the were there and I figured they'd do a far better job." I'd reply.
Of course it's not like that. It's just an excuse to justify your own lack of action. Then again, what do you do, untrained and inexperienced, in a situation like that? In my, and everybody else there's, case absolutely nothing. It's too unexpected. Somebody gets shot and you'll just freeze and think "Holy shit." for a period of time before your rational thinking kicks in and you do something, if somebody hasn't. Some are slower than others, some have the advantage of training or experience and some just freak out. Most of the time, you'll wait for somebody else.

.Philosophical meal
i got home, was thanked for letting my brother's friend tag along to get himself food and reflected. The thing on my mind most was the gas lamp right beside me. It was like a heater and light all-in-one. I ate the fresh chicken and the not-so-fresh chips in silence, cursing the power for being out so long. On the drive home I could barely recognise the streets I'd seen thousands of times - no street lights and deformed trees do that. It was like driving through a ghost town, or one of those suburbs that are built around a highway.

.btw
i drove my mum's car. Mine was broken down outside during the cyclone. It even had a piece of someone's shed to keep it company. Oh, and a window was partly open, so my wallet had grass and water on it. Joy.

.what now?
we start mending fences.