The End Has Come

So very few got away. Eleanor went to her sister in London before they closed the borders. She left straight away, took almost nothing. Their beautiful house stands empty. Renovated just last year, filled with antiques and electronics . . . all useless now. I suppose it will all just burn, unless it’s looted first. I doubt I’ll ever see her again. My daughter will never play with Isabelle again — the best friend she’s known since preschool. They’ll never again sit in the tree house together, with bare feet and icy poles, singing along to pop music playing on Jessie’s iPod.

* * *

Block seven is known as the “Green Block.” A logo of a tree or clouds, surrounded by the words “Green Team,” has been screen-printed on two of the fabrics: an apple-green cotton knit and a basic undyed calico. The third fabric is a lightweight blue denim showing ingrained grass stains.

* * *

There was supposed to be a P&C meeting at the school tonight, to plan the Sustainability Fete next month. I remember it when I go to put out the recycling and the rubbish. I have no idea if anyone will come to collect the bins tomorrow. I stand out on the street in the dark, wondering what it was all for. All those efforts to save the environment. The Great Barrier Reef, the Murray-Darling River Basin. What a joke.

* * *

The fabrics used to construct block eight are: a plain, light blue polyester/cotton, a bright blue synthetic knit that appears to have come from a uniform for a football club, and a white coarse-weave cotton printed with a design based on the artwork of young children. Names are visible in two of the white pieces: Jessie, age 5, and Isabelle, age 4¾. This block is ornamented with a number of Australian Girl Guides achievement badges.

* * *

I harangue the kids into getting ready for school the next morning. We ride down on our bikes. There’s only half as many kids in the main quadrangle as usual — playing handball, climbing on the monkey bars. I catch snatches of conversation from other parents. Most people seem to be waiting for the authorities to tell them what to do. I remember the newscast from last night. “Don’t panic” is manifestly inadequate. There are so many questions and so little information. How far west do we have to go? Will there be evacuation centers? Will there be any point?

When I get back home, Gav has the TV on again. And, once again, instead of anything actually useful, the news is filled with a bunch of rhetoric on the Great Australian Spirit. Pulling Together In A Crisis. Helping Out Our Mates. The fact is, we’re going to need international aid. Us. Australia. It’s laughable.

I go into Jessie’s room to get some clothes together. She’s put her blue Girl Guides uniform on the bed. Shit, I think, it’s Wednesday. She has Girl Guides on Wednesday. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. This is the first time she’s ever remembered to put it out on her own.

Jesus, Jess. Now?

* * *

Block ten has suffered the most distortion over time, due to the differing fabrics used in its construction. The pale yellow polyester/cotton knit has a printed design that suggests it was taken from a souvenir T-shirt from New Zealand. The rayon fabric is a traditional block-printed sarong pattern from Fiji. The third is a black cotton base, heavily embroidered with rayon thread and decorative beads, most likely from Bali, Indonesia.

* * *

Later in the morning, the news gives us stories of protests in China and India over the prospect of an influx of Australian refugees. We burned those bridges long ago, it seems. Our more traditional allies are a little more sympathetic. But it’s clear they have their own set of problems to deal with, and are as baffled as we are about what to do.