The men were calling the closure of the logging coupe a complete fucking disaster. Miki heard them going on about it in the shop. At first, there were rumblings and whisperings. Then the real action started on Friday when Robbo came in after work. Normally on Fridays, he went straight home to have dinner with his wife Trudi before going down to the pub. This afternoon he parked his truck in the street, defying the rules, and strutted into the shop to meet Toby, Mooney and Shane. They ordered a large serve of chips and sat at a table, obviously settling in for a chat. Kurt mumbled something about wanting them gone but, after he’d taken their money, he went out the back to do paperwork. A wise move, Miki thought. He wasn’t always wise when it came to avoiding conflict with customers.

While she cooked the order, Miki listened to the men talking, which was tricky over the hum of the exhaust fans and the hiss of the oil. Robbo’s voice was easiest to hear, deep and resonant. ‘Forest wars are on again,’ he said. ‘And all because of some fucking birds.’

‘The wars never stopped,’ Toby said. ‘This mob have always been out to get us.’ He was in a T-shirt as usual, arm muscles popping so that his tattoo-snake seemed to be writhing.

‘Wedge-tailed eagles, eh?’ Mooney scoffed. ‘We should go out and shoot them.’

‘They’re protected,’ Robbo said. ‘We can’t shoot them or the department will come down on us like a ton of bricks.’

‘We could knock the tree down,’ Mooney said. ‘Nest destroyed. Problem solved. Shane, you’ve got a chainsaw.’

But Robbo wasn’t having it. ‘Mate, they’d know it was us. We just have to wait.’

‘Where are they going to send us instead?’ Shane asked. ‘I can’t wait six weeks for a decision. I’ve got kids to feed.’

‘Who fucking knows?’

‘They’ll have to pay compo, but that could take months to come through.’

‘We need to hold a meeting,’ Robbo said. ‘Get everyone together on this.’

‘We’re already together,’ Mooney said.

‘Sure, but we need a plan. We have to make noise. This eagle nest will be all over the internet and the newspapers, and it’ll be conservationist views. We need to put our case. Stand up for ourselves. Get some heads to roll. The department fucked up on this.’

‘What do we do? Start a Facebook page? Email the newspaper?’

‘Yeah, maybe. But who’s going to do it? I’m no bloody good at technology.’

‘I’ll get Steph onto it,’ Toby said. ‘She’s better at that stuff than me.’

‘I can’t do it,’ Shane said.

‘Why not?’

‘I’m no good at English.’

‘You can talk, can’t you?’ Robbo said. ‘That’s English.’

They all laughed.

‘What about the pollies?’ Toby said. ‘Should we email them too?’