Null became a village known to more people than the tourists who flocked there to enjoy the peace and tranquillity. Null was becoming as well known as Kgari, the largest sand island in the world. Its reputation now was for anything not associated with peace and tranquillity. Null continued in the minds of locals as being the place nothing happens. Penny in her total focus on writing was still unsure of the events of the disappearing fishermen. When Penny returned home that day she put her school bags in her room and walked back into the kitchen and declared. . . .
‘Mum, no one's going to read my manuscript until it’s finished. All the way home Jack was telling me things about his new subject at school and telling me to put into the story things he is learning. Chaos Theory and some man Heisenberg. He wants me to write about monitoring the experiment or something. I just shut down and turned up the music on my MP3 player. He’s weird. Why didn’t you have two girls instead of a thick head like Jack?’
‘Penny go easy on Jack. He is your brother and you never know he could be onto something. Sometimes we need to hear things because something’s not right. Life works that way sometimes. But as usual, no one listens to a woman.’
‘Mum, if a woman speaks truth and no one listens. Does that mean a man hasn’t got a brain?’
‘Enough of that. Men are just a little bit different. That’s all. Men study things women don’t. Not all men and not all women, but in general, men study things for survival, and women, well we just happen to know things.’
‘Does that include your mum?’
‘Enough. My mum just happened to forget things she learnt. That’s all. The brain has to be exercised as much as the muscles of the body. My mum just shut down her thinking because no one cared what she thought. My mum was denied a proper education; it was just another product of Null. Off you go. Go and chase a rainbow. There might be a pot of gold at the end of it. And speaking of rainbows. There is a board riding competition coming for Rainbow Beach for women. Are you interested?’
‘No mum, unless I’m on the surfboard practising every week, I would never win. I would embarrass myself. I love surfing but not for competition anymore. Anyway, in what you just said, there might be a starting point for the next chapter of my book. I have no idea where it would lead to but it could lead to a critical factor, I suppose.’
Penny walked from the kitchen and out to the backyard which backed onto Snapper Creek. There she saw her brother by the water’s edge and walked away from him.
‘Penny, are you free for a while?’
‘Huh, what are you going on about Jack? Am I free? Never, I’m writing a book Jack. Why? What’s on your mind?’
‘I got a loan of two windsurfer boards. I learnt how to ride them. With this north wind blowin we can skoot up and down Snapper Creek on them. They fly. Faster than any surfboard you’ve been on. Put your swimmers on and I’ll teach you. When it calms down we can each take a dog out on them. I have a loan of the windsurfers but I know Sam wants to sell them.’
‘Ok, ok then. Windsurfing, something I always wanted to do. Can we take the dogs out now?’
‘Nah. Dogs stay at home. All the lessons from the sailing dingy club are all we need to know. We both sailed at Hervey Bay and at Null Sailing Club. Same principles except you are standing. You have balance on a surfboard and I have surfed on your board. I’ll rig a board up for you while you get changed. Mine is ready to go.’
‘Hey Jack, keep going up the creek. Go up and turn around Barren Island and back. Start in front of the Co-Op together and I’ll race you. First back to the Co-op doesn’t wash up the dishes tonight,’ Penny said.
That night after the evening meal. . . .
‘My my, Penny is volunteering to do the dishes tonight. Wonders never cease, eh,’ Ron Dawson said.
‘I want to sell my surfboard dad. It’s down at Noosa and aunty Robin knows a few surfers who want to buy it. On the Internet is a special windsurfer I want to buy. It’s fast as. Not like that one of Sam’s. So slow I could walk faster than it. Jack wants one too. Special racing windsurfer boards. We know money is tight but I think if I write for that Brisbane magazine about life up this way I can earn the money to buy both of them dad.’
‘Windsurfing? Now how would that go around here? What if we think about a windsurfer shop here. The trade winds blow long and hard on a regular basis along Null Inlet. Could be a goer. Whatcha think Betty? Would you manage the shop? We could be the agents for the racing kind and hire the big ones out to tourists? Jack, come here Jack. When did you learn the windsurfing stuff? Jack, if we get a franchise it will need to be a family thing. If you and your mum manage the shop and you and Penny become teachers? We would need a boat to go out and get tourists if they got into trouble on the water. Any ideas? Penny, you are full of creativity. Have a think everyone. It could be worth throwing that money we have as a back up into a new project,’ Ron said.
Ron then sat down and started writing a draft letter to the tourism board of his intentions to get feedback for his application for a jetty he has planned. Betty sat in amazement. Jack and Penny ran outside and ran around the backyard in joy.
‘Mum’ll be happy she has a full time job again,’ Penny said.
‘And I won’t have to get pocket money anymore. I can save up for university,’ Jack said.
Respect for each other returned to the twins. Jack no longer teased Penny and Penny respected her brother and his passions. A shared passion became the basis of kinship. Penny remained in her room writing and Jack left her alone. No longer was there the distance of a closed door as Penny wrote. Penny also became a loner within the family.
Life was changing with a blast. A blast of the north wind. The seasonal winds were rarely northerly. Now the north wind reappeared for no reason. The north wind created chaos for the fishing village and the village was edgy. Money flowed from a stable economy but the economics of running a business whilst the weather was unpredictable meant the family might be entering a business of high risk. Every business in a coastal village was high risk and Ron was calculating on making money when the wind suited windsurfing and when the wind suited fishing. Tourism based on a windy Null Inlet, where the Sou East trade winds blew hard in summer. Where a national windsurfing endurance race would see, the caravan parks put up the No Vacancy signs again.
The day arrived shortly after Ron sent his letter when a reply was in the mail.
‘Mr Dawson. Your letter of your plans for a windsurfing hire and teaching centre has the full backing of the tourism board. We envisage state government sponsorship in the way of inclusion in activities within our region. It is required that you contact the following departments for final approval. Insurance will be required. In the meantime we will meet with you on our next trip to Null.’
‘Wow, dad has done it. We will get our centre,’ Penny said.
‘No it doesn’t. It means we have overcome one hurdle. We have to meet Maritime Safety requirements first. If there are other centres like the one we want then we can meet those requirements. This is only the start. But we have something to aim for,’ Ron said.
‘Can I buy my windsurfer? The Brisbane magazine publisher might like my stories and wants to run short stories of mine dad. The story I wrote about Oscar, is the one they want to sign me up for.’
‘That one Penny? Who’d want to read about Oscar and his funny antics? I mean no offence. Do they really? Ok. I’m sorry. Have you spoken to aunty Robin about it?’
‘It was aunty Robin who spoke to the publisher for me. I didn’t know she did it. I will have to ring her and see what she suggests.’
‘Ok darling, Sorry, but I never thought much of that story until Robin raved about it. So, this book you are writing now is actually your second book?’
‘Yes mum. As I said, ‘no one wanted to know anything I was doing’, it was always about Jack. Everyone wanted to know about Jack and his cricket and schooling. Anyway, Charlie is here and I wrote about him not even knowing
we would get another dog called Charlie.’
‘Charlie is one of the most common names for a dog. No coincidence there.’
‘Well mum, if you don’t mind, I’ll continue writing things as I see them. I might have a story to tell after all. This village is not so quiet after all.’
Penny with her nose in the air walked from the house, with dogs on a leash, continued until she got to Crab Creek. At Crab Creek Penny spoke with the bunyip. Oscar and Charlie sat and said nothing but exchanged glances as they listened.
Penny had not considered herself ever as being an author until then. Now Penny had notebook near, her mind ever mindful of people. Her questions became probing. Penny was now seeing characters all around her. However, the quiet fishing village mentality remained. Penny had been like the proverbial flea jumping, hitting the lid. The lid was removed, but like the flea, Penny could not see the world was now an open book for her to write about. Penny’s writing style was changing with her inclusions of locals as characters in her book and somehow a storyline was developing without her realising it. If Penny realised the events as they occurred, whilst she lived in her fantasy world, her life would have changed with the changes going on.