Trouble in Nirvana (8 page)

Mojo had been replaced in the kitchen by Nirupam when Primrose went to clear the tea mugs.

“Was that Tom?” She held a piece of cloth and had a selection of half moon shaped silver earrings spread before her for polishing.

“Yes.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know.” Primrose sat down and examined the jewellery. Beautiful.

She’d first met Nirupam at Mum’s bedside in the Emergency Department. She’d brought Mum in with a blinding headache which indicated the aneurysm the doctors realised too late. It was all over in ten hours. Danny only just made it in time, not that Mum knew.

First impressions of Danny’s girlfriend weren’t strong. A slim, calm girl in a loose white cotton dress, her pale, almost translucent skin dotted with light freckles. The light brown hair was still long and still hung straight from a centre parting. She and Danny had come into the ward holding hands and looking with anxious faces at the occupant of each bed they passed. Danny obviously adored Nirupam and vice versa. She remembered envying him. Envied the support his oddly named girlfriend gave without actually saying or doing much beyond being there.

Afterward, the following week, came the funeral and the accompanying legalities. There wasn’t much to fight over even if they had been so inclined. Then, a couple of years later, they’d invited her to their wedding. Nirupam’s doing, she suspected. Danny wouldn’t have bothered. Again she was struck by the love. It hovered in the air between them as a tangible force. Inseparable then and inseparable now. Lucky people. Lucky child.

She’d felt out of place and uncomfortable despite the friendliness of the celebrating guests and the welcoming hugs from the bride and groom. She’d hung back and watched her brother marry the girl he would always love. Watched and remembered this happy, besotted man as a meek, quiet child cowering in fear of their father as he raised his fist. Watched with tears in her eyes and was glad he’d survived, glad he’d found this girl, the love of his life.

Nirupam broke into the reverie. “Tom hardly ever comes over but he’s been here twice since you arrived.” She kept her eyes focussed on the earring in her hands. Her expression gave no hint of any extra meaning behind her comment. She winced and placed her palm against her belly. “Kicking.” A tiny smile lurked.

“I’m so envious.” Primrose quickly put her own hand on the bulge. A firm lump moved vigorously under her fingers and disappeared. “I’d love to have a baby.”

“You will, one day.” The pale blue eyes regarded her for a moment. “You should ask Fern to do your cards.”

“Maybe.” Did it make any difference knowing what was going to happen? Or thinking you knew. If the cards told her she would meet her soul mate within the year would she be more likely to recognise him as such when he appeared? Doubtful. Unless the cards gave her a name, time, and date she’d wouldn’t trust her judgement of men any more than she could at the moment. Primrose sat back. “I think Tom was checking on my painting.”

“He’s nice.” The casual remark was like a slap in the face, snapping her out of the maudlin haze of self pity. He’d done nothing wrong. All the mess was in her own head. She was an overflowing toxic waste dump and he’d copped the spillage.

“Yes, he is nice.” And nice looking. But she mustn’t let a slow-burning lopsided smile and a sexy work-hardened body distract her. “Why is Danny selling land to him?”

The worried look flitted across her face. “We need the money. I’m sorry he didn’t ask you but, well...”

Primrose smiled and shook her head. “It’s fine. Danny’s right. I never had anything to do with this place. But aren’t you self sufficient here? I thought the idea was to grow your own food.”

Nirupam put one earring down and picked up another. “Yes, it was. But it’s very difficult. The drought hasn’t helped. Birds eat the fruit and we can’t afford netting. Plus we need money for rates and electricity, and we don’t always earn enough. For a while it was all right because we still had some of the inheritance money to draw on but it’s all gone now.”

“Do the people who stay here contribute?”

“Not all of them. It’s harder to get the dole nowadays. Danny lets everyone come regardless.”

“You mean you’re always supporting a whole lot of useless people?”

Nirupam nodded. “I agreed with him at first. The idea was everyone would work on the land and contribute in kind. Give what they could. But now there’s the baby. And everything’s getting more expensive. I’d like to have a home for just us.”

“Of course you would! Is Danny getting the best possible price for the land?”

“I suppose so. It’s Danny’s business.”

“Have you discussed asking everyone to leave?”

Nirupam shook her head. “It goes against everything Danny wanted to do.” She looked Primrose in the eye. “I think he’s always been trying to build a substitute family for the one you never had.”

“Ours wasn’t very good.” There was no denying that as families went theirs was pretty woeful. A drunken abusive father, a weak-willed mother keeping the horrors at bay with prayer and Valium. Primrose bit her lip. “I think maybe that’s why I’ve come here, too.”

Nirupam smiled tentatively, waiting for her to continue but there was no solution to be had there. Nirupam had her own problems.

Primrose said, “But bad as he was, Dad wasn’t as insane as Kurt. He thinks you should just squat down in a paddock for the birth. Can you imagine what crazy ideas he’ll have about how to care for the baby? And he won’t keep them to himself.”

Nirupam’s eyes opened wide and she nodded. Her hand went unconsciously, protectively, to her belly.

“He really has to go,” said Primrose.

“We can discuss it tonight at the meeting.”

Discuss it? We? Cripes! Didn’t she get it? “No. We have to talk to Danny. Alone. He’s the boss. He can kick someone out, no discussion needed.”

Nirupam bent her head over her jewellery. “Did you meet the others?” she asked after a few moments of intense polishing.

“Only Fern and Mojo.”

“They brought someone else in with them. Brendan.” She glanced up and then down again before Primrose caught her eye.

“I met him. Do you know him?” Skinny with a face like a melting candle.

Nirupam shook her head. She straightened her back and edged her bottom forward, wincing.

Primrose exhaled. Maybe this unknown quantity Brendan, despite the unlikely packaging, would offer something useful and offset the ravings of Kurt.

****

The communal meeting began after dinner.

“First we should welcome our newest members, Rosie and Brendan.” Kurt had appointed himself chairman.

“Thanks,” Primrose said amidst the chorus of greetings. She was perched on one end of the saggy couch thigh to skinny thigh with Jason who squeezed in next to Fern. Mojo sat on the floor amidst the fading threadbare pink roses.

The scrawny, grey-haired hippy nodded and smiled. He wore a vacant expression most of the time, alleviated occasionally by either a slightly bewildered frown or a vague smile. At lunch he hadn’t said much but afterward, with surprising alacrity, he offered to wash the dishes. Harmless, willing, and not altogether useless, but the extent of his abilities remained to be seen. He’d been helping Danny earlier but when they came in for lunch Danny hadn’t looked happy.

Kurt, with a style of delivery reminiscent of the best in Hollywood Nazi oratory, addressed Primrose directly. “Our ideal here is equality for all. No-one has less say than the others. Everyone has equal voting on decisions which affect us all. Those who don’t like this system can leave whenever they want.” The last sentence was accompanied by a glower from under the wild, hedge-like eyebrows.

“Everyone contributes what they can. Everyone brings different skills,” explained Fern with a smile at Brendan who now resembled a terrified basset hound even though Kurt ignored him completely, focussing on Primrose.

The crazy German appeared to assume she couldn’t grasp the basics of a democratic society. She did. The question was, did anyone else? “Can I ask how the bills like rates and electricity are paid? Are they equally divided?”

“We figure things out.” Danny, peeved and showing it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’d like to know.”

“It all works out,” said Kurt. “Some people contribute in kind. Money isn’t everything. Society has brainwashed you into thinking that way. Here we do away with those capitalist notions.”

“Right,” muttered Primrose. And who was the most upset about Danny’s land price? Not Danny or herself. “Remind me of that when the next bill comes.”

“Can we have reports for the week, please?” said Kurt. “I will go first. The dry weather has affected the crops very badly and without the windmill it’s hard to water. The birds are eating everything. I collected five tomatoes today.” Five small misshapen tomatoes with splits and marks.

“I fixed the windmill today,” said Danny in a flat voice. “The dam is about half full.”

Hah! No more excuses for the miserable quality and quantity of vegetables.

“Well done, Danny,” said Fern.

“Anyway” he added with what could almost pass as a glare at Kurt. “It’s only been out of action for a week. I haven’t had the time to go into Braidwood for the parts.”

Kurt’s oblivious gaze swung around the room. “Who’s next?”

“I collected six eggs,” piped up Mojo. “And before we went away I collected twenty three.”

“Ten came since,” said Nirupam. “So the chooks laid thirty nine eggs this week.”

Primrose had fossicked around in the undergrowth for some of those. The free thinking commune hens didn’t believe in laying in their boxes in the fenced in part of the shed where they were locked up each night. Goodness knew how many she’d missed, or how old the eggs were she’d found. Now that Mojo was home he could resume his poultry duties and be welcome to them.

“Very good,” said Kurt. “Well done, Mojo.” Everyone clapped.

“Do the goats do anything?” asked Primrose. “No-one milks them, do they?” No milk, no yoghurt, no cheese. No nothing from that pair of malingerers. Tom’s attitude to the communalists made more and more sense. No wonder he’d laughed at her that first day.

“They’ve never given milk,” said Nirupam.

“Perhaps they should be sold.”

“No.” Kurt’s dictatoresque stare swung away from Primrose. “We’ve already decided. Danny? Have you anything else to say?”

“The water tanks are three quarters full but the second dam is getting low. I took Nirupam’s jewellery to Braidwood and collected nearly twelve hundred dollars from sales for the last batch. That’s how I managed to repair the windmill.”

Danny’s little show of bravado had worn off and now the big bully had her brother sounding like an employee. Why should he be reporting in to anyone?

“I had no idea you were selling so well, Nirupam.”

“A craft gallery has a standing order and a new shop took some this time.”

“Maybe you could take your work further afield. Along the coast there are heaps of craft shops.”

“I’m not sure we want to rely on my jewellery income. It’s really my way of contributing.”

Primrose gasped. Her work was supporting everyone. “Your way of contrib....”

“We can buy more vegetable plants with that money,” interrupted Kurt. “And fix the tractor.”

“It may only need new spark plugs,” said Danny.

“Good. That will be cheap.”

“I’d like to buy baby things,” Nirupam offered in a soft voice. “And some other nursery things.” She looked at Primrose as though her request was a ridiculous self indulgence.

“Of course you should,” she cried. The lack of preparation had seriously alarmed her. “We can go shopping.”

“Babies don’t need much,” said Kurt. “No point wasting good money on new. Secondhand clothing is best, they grow so fast.”

“She can have new if she wants.” Primrose fixed him with a hard-eyed stare. “She earned the money.”

“I agree,” said Fern. “A first baby is special.”

Kurt glared at them like a cornered bull, but Jason said in a bored voice, “Vote. Who agrees Nirupam spends the money on baby gear?”

All hands went up except Kurt’s. Mojo put up both of his. Nirupam produced a shy little smile. “Thanks.”

“Anything else to report?” Kurt snapped.

“We earned one hundred and thirty dollars at the workshops.” Jason yawned, folded his arms and stretched his legs out.

“Is that all?” The shaggy brows drew together in disgust.

“After expenses.” Fern stared right back at him. “There are three of us.” Primrose’s estimation of her character rose dramatically. But what exactly were they contributing? Jason hadn’t lifted a finger today except to strum the guitar strings and raise his beer to his mouth. No wonder he was yawning.

“Right.” Kurt made a sound like a draught horse with chaff up its nose. “Now we have complaints. Who goes first?”

“I think the men should do more of the household chores,” said Primrose. “Brendan helped wash up but he’s the only one who’s done anything.”

“I don’t mind cleaning,” he said with an eager smile. “I worked as a cleaner once.”

“I don’t think you have the right attitude,” Kurt said to Primrose with a vast sigh. Patient and all knowing.

“Because I don’t agree with everything you say? You know what I think, Kurt? I think you run this commune like a dictatorship and from what I’ve seen you don’t contribute much at all. Nirvana? It’s more like Animal Farm and you’re Napoleon.”

Kurt gave her a pitying smirk and shook his head.

“I think Rosie is doing her best to fit in,” said Danny. “It’s hard for her, remember. She has to adapt.”

Kurt growled, “She’s brainwashed by society. They get inside your head like worms. The money men. Everything money. Money, money, money.” He shook his shaggy head again. “Stupid bastards.”

“Any other complaints?” asked Danny.

“Kurt, why are you so upset about the price Danny and Tom agreed on for his land?” Primrose demanded. “You weren’t even here at the time.”

“I can’t stand a man who cheats his friend.”

“It’s in the past, Rosie,” said Danny with unexpected strength. “Leave it. You too, Kurt.”

Two maniacal eyes bored into her head. She bored right back with what she hoped was a laser beam of dislike. How could she have doubted Tom’s honesty, taken this lunatic’s word over his?