In an unreachable past, before the accident, Sean Henderson had treated Caleb as a hero. Rosie had been grateful to Caleb because she had no other help and Sean, even walking, had been a difficult child. After the accident, when Sean was still difficult (worse, probably) Caleb drew these stories. In contrast to the wheelchair-bound boy, Sean the Adventurer was never still. An intrepid Sean saved a Marrakesh-bound sheik from a bunch of intelligent and angry camels. Super Sean saved New York’s tallest buildings from Super Villains.

Jeannie turned a few more pages. ‘I’ve told you before. You’re very talented.’

Caleb looked at the black notebook, and at his knuckles, turning white from his tight grip. ‘When the pictures are good enough, I’ll give them to him.’

I didn’t understand him, but I had to. His devotion to Jack, his guilt about Sean. Everything that Caleb was and had been. The child fascinated by a bunyip, the young man with the skull necklace who drew Penelope as a phoenix. Now that reports had announced that the fossicker’s hut was certainly the source of the fire, I knew that someone other than Caleb must have been there. Could Sean have lit the fires? I imagined his wheelchair bouncing over leaf litter, bark strips, and had my answer. Sean could only reach the fossicker’s hut if Caleb took him. When Jeannie left, my mind returned to my earlier drive. I couldn’t know exactly what Caleb’s firestorm had been like, but evidence existed that I could see. CCTV footage, for instance. What places in town had cameras? I developed a plan. I’d work with Jeannie on her photo project but also, collecting photos people took that day, I’d put together my own version of events.

I’d discuss the day with Caleb again, to give him the relief of talking. But he avoided the subject, retreating to his room when I brought it up. Perhaps those drawings were a kind of therapy for him. Perhaps far too much of what he saw and experienced was simply unspeakable.

10

10

TELLUS MATER | Goddess of the Earth

For her sake, every newborn was rested on the ground immediately after birth. Her temple featured a famous map of the Empire and she was often symbolised by fruit and flowers.

I still couldn’t go running outside. The air was heavy with smoke. Breathing deeply involved coating my lungs with a fine layer of ash. Even wide-open spaces had an aura of claustrophobia.