The Last Billabong On The Barwon

• Rafael Siemer, Grade 3, Walgett Primary Distance Education Centre
• Short Story
• 2019

Finalist in the 'Just Keep Writing 2019' competition

Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh
I can hear the pump long before I see it. It’s pumping from the last water spot we have, The Big Hole. The Big Hole has never run dry, that’s what everyone says. Every day we check the water level. Every day it goes lower. If it goes dry, we’ll have no water left for us, or for Grandma and Grandad, or for the sheep. There are other animals that need the billabong too.
We drive past black sand dunes and through a dust haze that sits in the trees like a dirty fog left from yesterday’s haboob (a bad dust storm). I can see four emus running along the fence. A dead joey lies at the gate. Its mother must have thrown it out because of the heat and the drought. Near the river, six goats are running. No, it’s four goats and two deer! Oh dear. That is the strangest herd I’ve seen.
When we get to the pump it’s my job to turn it off. I jump out of the vehicle and l check the tap and turn the motor off. Done! I saw an echidna here once, it is very rare to see one.
I look down at the hazel water of the billabong. A pretty faced wallaby is drinking. I see four turtles sitting in the shallows popping their heads in and out of the water. Around the edge I see hundreds of dead mussels with holes in their shells. A feast for crows. All of a sudden, a Jurassic creature swims across the river. It’s a goanna. This is the first time we have ever seen this animal in the water. Another reason NOT to take a dip.
Grandad told me about the time he took a nap in the shade and when he woke up old man goanna was eyeballing him through the windscreen on the bonnet of his truck. “I’m not dead yet lizard!” Grandy said to him. I think the goanna was hungry and wanted Grandy for dinner.
I look around for birds. Rainbow blue bonnets, green buln bulns, bush parrots, black cockatoos, white cockatoos and pink and grey galahs can all be seen here. One pelican is fishing and three more fly over the dry riverbed. “Plop!!” A fish jumps up. He catches a fly. The pelican moves toward the ripples.
We walk down the bank and Mum marks the waterline with a stick. I hear Mum say “Exsanguinated.” “What does it mean?” I ask. “To bleed to death” she says as she walks back up. I look for an animal. Then I realise she means the river.