Welcome back to Australia during the worst bushfire season in history. It's fitting that Ipsita introduced me to this story with a question about the weather in Sydney at Christmas. Seeing her tale develop fueled an expansion in my head—an idea to include something familiar for a change. Two years later, they asked us to donate to the Australian Bushfire Compilation, and Ipsita agreed to let me continue with a little help from her. It's been an eternity since the early months of 2020, but it's all finished now, and that's a first for me.

There's another story in here, too, offered with generosity by a woman who fought to survive a terrible ordeal—an example of strength in the middle of a nation's catastrophe.

Thank you so much to Sarcastic Bimbo for your help editing for the compilation.

Note: Temperatures in Australia are in Celsius, so 40 = 104 Fahrenheit. Masen is narrating, so it's British English for a bit.


Chapter 2

December 19, 2019 - Sydney, Australia

Masen

It's peaceful in this garden before the city intrudes on the quiet, and we have a singer in our blue gum tree today. The descending pitch of its drawn-out calls is wistful, but the raven is lively, its head darting around in search of movement below. It'll be lucky to find something juicy around here when the lawn is brown, and the ground is as hard as a rock.

With the rainwater tank empty, Mum's plants are showing serious signs of distress. Even the big azaleas she's had for decades have patches like rust. Dad is refilling a watering can, trying to prevent the inevitable, but we've been losing the battle for a while. Still wearing scrubs from his night at the hospital, he's showing his own signs of stress. The man is worn out.

"Sit down, Dad, please. Let me do that."

With a sigh of frustration, he swaps the newspaper for the watering can and sits down to his cup of tea.

"Did you know pool owners get fifteen minutes a day to replenish evaporation while we're banned from using a hose on our plants? Why weren't we on water restrictions before the dam reached such a critical level? Why haven't we expanded the desalination plant? Hell, the technology exists to turn sewage into usable water, so why aren't we using it?"

"All questions for the Premier, Dad." I'd like to believe he'll remember this when he casts his vote in the next election. We've never seen eye to eye on politics.

While I splash water around the garden, he's grumbling about the pungent smell of bushfire in the air. I feel like I've adjusted to the smoke now, having seen it thicker than I could have ever imagined, only to lessen the following day. I've given up hoping for rain, and today we're going to be the hottest place on earth with an average temperature of forty across Australia.

It should have significance, but it's just another record.

The familiar scent of backburning is usually comforting. As a nation, we're used to heatwaves in summer and fire bans when we can't use an open flame to cook a barbeque. There are often blazes in the national parks and in places where homes neighbour the bush. While the firies battle to save properties and lives, we're escaping the heat at the beach or inside in the aircon. We'll discuss their heroic work over a beer, applauding them for preventing the worst, and some of us will donate to the Royal Fire Service.

This year has been something altogether new. I never thought I'd see pictures from space showing the eastern coastline outlined in fire and massive storms of smoke reaching across the Tasman to New Zealand. I never thought I'd witness an evil-looking sun painted fire engine red in the biggest city in Australia.

We'd been in drought for two years, so it wasn't unusual to see fires across the top end and into Queensland in September. It was unusual to hear predictions of fires lasting for weeks or months. As the state of emergency in the north downgraded, it was time for New South Wales to take up the burning baton.

The mid north coast erupted in October. A powerful image showed two kids standing in the water at Foster, watching the bush near the beach roar with fire. Three major fires closed the Pacific Highway at Taree and decimated parts of Port Macquarie. It was already thirty-seven degrees and sixty fires were burning, half of them uncontained.

Then it was Sydney's turn. A lightning strike ignited a blaze that would become Australia's biggest ever forest fire. Two hundred kilometres north west of the city, the threat was not from burning embers, but from the choking smoke it spewed into the air. The mega fire soon had companions reaching out to join the destruction of hundreds of thousands of hectares, and another big blaze broke out in the south west while new clusters were forming to the north. People on the fringes of the city started moving their animals to safety, making decisions about evacuating or staying to fight.

News of a catastrophic danger alert took Sydney by surprise, although the rating became part of the fire service after the 2009 Victorian fires cost so much life. It had been displayed on roadside signs for some time, but I guess you never saw them unless you were driving out of the city, and the first warning of catastrophic conditions was released in such a way that people thought they were facing Armageddon.

The November day was shrouded in thick smoke and the sound of helicopters in the air. With outbreaks all over, the firefighters did a magnificent job of containing them, and everyone is now aware there is a certain set of conditions when the fire service cannot anticipate an outcome. Resources will be stretched, and there won't be time to go door to door, so the recommendation will always be to get out. When you add heat and wind to months without rain, staying to save a threatened property can end in tragedy.

While severe storms lashed Queensland with hailstones as big as cricket balls, we were wrong in believing relief was on the way. The high country of New South Wales and Victoria was soon on fire, and there were evacuations on the coast at Batemans Bay. The fires in the north still hadn't been contained, and the south was getting its share.

People I know have exit plans and bags of valuables left permanently in their cars. Bushfires are all we talk about, and everyone is infinitely informed by what they hear on the news. Friends of mine claim half the fires are the result of arson, but the people I trust state nearly all have started from lightning strikes, electric fences, and power lines. Many blame the government for cutting this year's budget for the fire service, blocking their efforts to cull the amount of fuel this season, and it's the reason we have fires burning out of control. I'm not a fan of the Liberal Party, but the media release fragments of statistics and quotes taken out of context, so it's impossible to know what to believe. I've now given up arguing the main factor is lack of rain, and I've learned not to bring climate change into the discussion when there are still plenty who will never be swayed.

"Where is the smoke coming from now, son? We're overwhelmed with asthma and lung related problems."

There's not a breath of breeze to inform my answer. "It'll be Gospers Mountain or the big one south of the dam. You don't have the RFS app?"

"I've seen the map on your mother's phone, but it's hard to believe that's reality."

"It's real, Dad. There are that many fires. The whole place is going up."

We both look at the sky as a plane breaches the smoke on its way to the airport, and I wonder what the tourists will make of the city with people wearing masks, and the harbour down to zero visibility. Since the fires in Katoomba, it's too dangerous for me to take groups into the Blue Mountains, and with the forecast for rain now out as far as March, I'm trying not to dwell on how this could escalate when it's only the first month of summer.

"Do you realise how long it's been since Port Macquarie went up in flames? Those fires are still out of control."

Yes, I realise, old man.

"I still think about those koalas all the time."

He drops his head when he realises. "Oh, Masen. I'm so sorry."

In August, I was at the Lake Innes Nature Reserve with a team from National Geographic who were reporting on the importance of genetic diversity in threatened and endangered species. They had been in Tasmania, where they documented the cancerous tumours pushing the population of Tasmanian Devils toward extinction, and they came to Port Macquarie to balance the story with the success of the local colony of koalas. Fascinated by the interviews with the staff at the koala hospital, I watched the Americans in awe as they patted and fed the koalas, thinking I'd bring Bella here when she next visited Sydney. I had such fond memories of the Billabong Zoo from Mum and Dad taking me there years ago, and Timbertown was still operating, so I took the team into a past where logging massive trees meant moving them around on bullock trains.

I didn't get the assignment for my knowledge of genetic diversity. I had a contact who agreed to give us access to film a "cultural" or traditional indigenous burn in the Hunter Valley, so they were using the same camera crew. Days like these were a way of passing down knowledge to young Aboriginals, and the first question anyone asked was, "Who's your mob?" I was pleased to answer, "Wiradjuri," although none of them knew a thing about Cootamundra.

We began by inspecting the results of a month-old burn, identifying the resurgent plants providing the wildlife with a source of food, and their knowledge of the habitat had us all enthralled. While we examined the ground, they told us about the time before the arrival of white men, when it was commonplace to use fire to clear access or to cleanse and rejuvenate the land. The large ring of fire they were about to create would allow animals to smell the smoke with time to retreat. Cool burns resulted in less greenhouse emissions and protected the bark of ancient trees.

The indigenous burn was a reverent and quiet lighting of grasses, starting in the late afternoon. As white smoke drifted into the forest, I heard singing, the kind of chant that could have accompanied this same practice a thousand years ago. There was no sense of danger walking near the low flames that quickly extinguished themselves, and I felt honoured to experience something I'd only heard of before.

The burn would have to be repeated many times to protect the land from the fires of summer, and I was struck by the staggering amount of labour required for this kind of fire management. We were not in a heavily wooded area, and when I asked if the process was the same in the forests, they looked at each other for someone to answer. Then one of them said they'd need an army to clear out the forest before they would touch it, and having spent time in the Blue Mountains, I could relate to the magnitude of the problem. However, the ceremony itself had a big effect on me, and I told Bella I would seek approval to bring groups of tourists to witness what I'd seen.

Eight weeks later, we heard the devastating news that most of the koalas at Port Macquarie had lost their lives, too slow to escape the kind of inferno that is still burning today. Images of the incredible survivors, singed and bandaged, are too much for me.

"It's okay, Dad. You're tired. Go inside and get some sleep."

He finishes his tea and turns another page of his paper. "How was your mother last night?"

"I saw her take a hit of Ventolin, but she seemed okay."

"Make sure she keeps the house closed up tight."

My phone goes off with Pete Murray's, "So Beautiful." It's one of many songs I've used to announce Bella's calls as we've navigated our way through our long-distance relationship, and I didn't choose this one because of her beauty.

I've been sensing a subtle change on the other end of the line recently. There's nothing specific I can put my finger on, except she's been impersonal and business-like, shying away from discussing our future. It's obvious she's been enjoying her time in South Africa, but the assignment was supposed to end months ago, and with my main source of income gone, I'm not in a strong position of influence, especially when her commitment to her work was one of the reasons I fell in love with her.

"Woollahra Gardening Services. How can I help you?"

"How is the smoke today?" She doesn't even acknowledge the joke, as if she wasn't listening. There is still anxiety laced in the question she often uses to start the call, but it would be nice to receive a sentimental greeting occasionally.

"It's going to be bloody awful again. Mum is now on a puffer."

"What? Is she okay?" Bella does care deeply, I know she does. I just wish she would ask about me before everything else.

"Yeah, Doctor Dad is just being cautious." I meet my father's eyes, and he shakes his head slightly as he folds up the paper.

Placing his hand on my shoulder, he sneaks in a "Hello, Bella," so I put the phone on speaker.

"Hi, Carlisle. How are you?"

"Very busy at the hospital as you can imagine with all this going on."

"Is the air quality dangerous?"

"For some, yes, and it's more worrying as it continues."

"I can't imagine what you all must be going through."

He sighs, and I think he's about to say goodbye when he asks, "So, one more week and we're rid of him?"

"You mean Masen?" she responds with a giggle. "I'll take him anytime you want to get rid of him."

I raise my eyebrows, enjoying my girlfriend's response, but I wonder if she means it. She hasn't shown me her playful side in a while.

"Then take him for good. He's not working, and he's too old to be living with his parents."

What? Why would he make me out to be the layabout son? Was it only Mum who wanted me to move back home when I was basing myself in Sydney? Dad was happy, too, or so I thought. He has certainly been happy to have me mow his lawns and do maintenance work around the house. I've paid their ridiculous electricity bills and put in my share for the groceries. I won't deny they have helped me immensely, because 2019 has been incredibly lucrative, and I will always be grateful, but I can actually do this kind of work anywhere with the right amount of research, so maybe it is time to think about leaving Sydney for good.

"I will if you want me to." She laughs, and now it's just meaningless banter.

"You do that, Bella," he says, winking at me. "We're looking forward to seeing you next month."

When she doesn't answer, I think the line is dropping out.

"Um ... We have to talk about that. I might not have time now."

Dad stares at me. "I'll give you some privacy," he says softly and leaves.

"Bewdy." I can feel the lines etching between my eyebrows, although this is exactly what I was anticipating. It explains a lot.

"Masen―"

"This is why our flights had to be flexible. You've known about this for a while."

"I was hoping to persuade you to come to Anchorage."

"Except you know how I am in the cold. I agreed to Finland, but you never mentioned a trip to Alaska in the middle of winter."

"Yep ... Well, we have a lot to discuss, clearly, but we're not doing this while you're angry. I'm going to bed or I'll never get up in the morning."

"Sure." It's the middle of the night in Johannesburg, so I can understand, but it's like she times her calls to use the late hour to avoid confrontation.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Why is it we never have time to talk anymore?"

"Oh, Masen. We'll have all the time in the world soon. You know I love you."

"I love you, too." It only takes a few sweet words for her to own me like she has since I met her in Alice Springs. I just wish I could believe she feels the same way.

Johannesburg, South Africa

Bella

"You didn't tell him?" Maggie shakes her head as I chug down half a bottle of water.

"I should be doing this in person."

"You said you were going to tell him tonight."

"In case you didn't hear, he's not exactly happy with me at the moment."

"No, and I can understand why, but I'm the one who requires an answer. You tell him, or I will."

"You wouldn't!"

She stands up to go. "If I don't get a commitment soon, you'll leave me no choice."

"This is a huge step for me, Maggie."

"I know it is, so get on with it."

When she shuts the door behind her, I fall back on my bed, feeling miserable when I should be celebrating. I wanted to be in Masen's lap and see his face light up when I surprised him with my proposal. I thought I'd be showering him with kisses when he said yes, and after all this time, she can't wait for his answer.

It's not her fault that the go ahead is dependent on her proving she can staff the project. She's in charge, so she has to deliver. Of course, I want this promotion, but I want Masen by my side.

I hate that he's angry with me when he doesn't understand I've been cajoling and arguing and working my ass off to create this opportunity for us. It's still hard to believe that everything finally came together, and now I won't be able to tell him in person. Nevertheless, I really do have to get on with it, so I text him and ask if we can FaceTime.

"I thought you were going to bed."

"I won't sleep unless we talk."

"Do I want to know why you can't come to Sydney?"

Reading his text, I can't imagine what assumption he's made, so I tap his name into the phone and wait for the connection. When he appears on the screen, he looks like he's out back in their garden, and I sigh at how handsome he is, even with a solemn expression.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

I gasp and stare at him, shocked he's reached that conclusion.

"No! Why would you think such a thing?"

"Well, let's start with how cold and reserved you've been lately. We haven't seen each other in months, and now I find out you have plans you haven't bothered to share with me, so that means there's something or someone more important than us."

His words shoot directly into my heart, and the feeling is something akin to shame. In my determination to find a solution for our separation, it must feel like I've excluded him, but I didn't want to get his hopes up needlessly.

"Would you believe me if I told you there is nothing more important than us, and that I've been working for months on a way to bring us together?"

"If that's true, then why—"

"Please, Masen. There is so much to tell you."

He turns his beautiful eyes away, gazing anywhere but at the phone.

"This project is continuing."

"Great." He runs a hand through his hair. "How much longer."

"And I've just been given a promotion."

"Congratulations."

The sarcasm is annoying, but I guess I deserve it. "Will you stop and just listen?"

"Okay, go on."

"I'm coming to Australia, leading a team to gather information on the indigenous migration throughout the continent."

I watch his eyes grow and brighten as he absorbs the information. He doesn't say a word, so I take his silence as a cue to continue.

"You know we've been studying the ancient migrations out of Africa, and our results have strengthened the theories that they happened over a long period of time and for many different reasons. We know that some made an epic journey to Australia, and the consensus is that they entered through New Guinea into Northern Queensland or from Timor to the Northern Territory.

"When the sea rose around 10,000 years ago, Australia was cut off from further migration, creating a uniquely isolated race, but we have virtually no information on how they spread to other parts of the country.

"On foot, Bella. They weren't riding on the back of kangaroos and emus."

I laugh, pleased he's lightening up a little. I'm hoping he'll crack a smile in a minute or so.

"I mean who moved away from the far north and why they splintered into so many tribes."

"How do you trace 10,000 years of movements?"

"The same way we know the Australian Aboriginals originated in Africa—through DNA markers—tiny pieces of genetic material that remain the same through generations."

"You're going to collect samples of saliva?" he asks, showing interest at last.

"As many as we can."

"You can't just waltz into a community and expect people to agree to that. You'll need approval from elders first."

"That's why you will be one of the most important people on the team."

"Me?" When his mouth lifts on one side, I watch him finally register the offer I'm making.

"Why would I want anyone else when I've seen you in action? I admired the genuine respect you show for these people even before I knew you shared their blood."

"You want a guide?"

"An expert consultant, Masen. I need a very special person to gather their stories while helping us with permission for genetic testing. In comparing stories, we may find similarities that link them with other tribes."

"There are a hundred languages spoken across the country."

"And I know you can find people to interpret."

"But I'm freelance. You'll never get approval for me to go full-time."

"That's funny. Maggie told me she already has the approval. There's a contract being drawn up."

He snorts. "Then why all of the secrecy?"

"When this project ends, I have no control over where they'll send me next. Without a permanent home, what can I offer someone like you? I considered taking a position at head office in DC, but you would have hated the long winters, so the only solution was for me to come to you. Then NG turned me down when I applied for a transfer to Australia. Apparently, there are plenty of talented Aussies more than capable of filling local assignments, and it looked like my only alternative was to resign. I didn't tell you because I thought you would resist my decision to give up my job."

"You were right to feel that way, Bella. What you bring to your work has always defined you."

"So, knowing I had nothing to lose since I'd be leaving NG at the end of the assignment, I started pushing an idea to pick up the story in Australia where we left off in Africa. It took me a solid month to convince Maggie it would make a great documentary, and another two months for her to offer it to me. I wanted so much to tell you in person, but Maggie insists I get your commitment immediately or she'll have to find someone else."

"Where are you going to live?"

"Initially, in South Australia, and then we'll fan out over the country."

"It doesn't sound like a short assignment."

"No, the plan is a year at least."

"And what happens when it's over?"

God, he seems awfully flat, not overjoyed like I imagined. Right now, I'm not sure what his answer will be.

"I was hoping to cross that bridge together, Masen. You know, whenever I think of you, I imagine you in the outback of Australia, and I've come to realize I fell in love with the place almost as much as the man. I want to feel that magic again, see the Milky Way in the southern sky, but not without you."

"Bella, are you crying?"

Jeez, I am crying. I have to put the phone down to wipe my eyes, and when I pick it up again, he looks troubled.

"Baby, please don't cry."

"This is so not how I imagined telling you. It was supposed to be the best news, and I'm not doing much of a job of selling it, am I?"

"What makes you think I'd say no?"

"Um … the questions. You don't seem very excited."

"You might have known about this for months, but you've just dropped it on me. Aren't I allowed to ask a few questions?"

"Of course you are." As I sniffle, it dawns on me that in my quest to achieve what I saw as the perfect solution for us as a couple, I've been lacking some very important relationship skills. I must learn to be a partner first and an individual second. "And I honestly didn't mean to be so insensitive. I'm very sorry."

"Well, I guess we both need to work on the way we communicate, because I'm not letting you loose in the outback without me."

When he chuckles, I chuckle, and the relief is incredible. I didn't know how much weight I'd been carrying around until I felt it gone from my shoulders.

Thanks for reading xo