"Everyone here is really angry" I say.
"Why, what did you do?" asks my mum suspiciously.
"No, not at me. Just, generally. People are fighting. About nothing. They all have a story."
"I see. Going to fix it all are you? When do you leave?" she laughs.
"Tomorrow" I say. No, I wont fix it all, won't fix any of it. Im and trying to crystallise what my contribution has been if any. I have written some legal letters.I have held hands with hurt people and nodded emphatically as they cried and all i could offer was empathy. People are enormously kind and welcoming.
Di and Ray are taking me to the airport." "Please don't." I emplore. "Thats ridiculous" says Di. "Of course we are taking you." Ray was a fighter pilot during the war. Di was a nurse. They were part of the founding fathers of a local community organisation, the board of which has changed hands recently. Ray is a very beautiful and gentle old man. I feel like i am looking at my granddad. I want to join them on their bizarre fight. Im just not sure what we're fighting about. It is a community that opens itself to people.
Not for the first or last time i feel that I am in Angelus, Tim Winton's fictional WA town. There is so much feeling and emotion here. I am told of the relationships, the affairs, the moral vagrancies. No one is shy of throwing the first stone.
