Wyatt Earp: and the Boomerang Refugium Page 8
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I had prepared in the event of societal collapse to aesthetically vandalise the property’s exterior in as little as a few hours. I had quickly done this on Thursday afternoon to hopefully avoid attempted home invasion. As it happened I need not have bothered. Deliberate fire or accident, I did not know at the time, but fire burned along most of our street on day six of our new timeline.
Opposite the industrial buildings the houses were mostly three-bedroom low set structures built in the 1960’s. Without firefighting facilities, it consumed the houses amazing quickly. The destruction burned the front fence and scorched the paint on my building’s exterior. The succulent roof top at the building’s rear suffered surprisingly little degradation – good for it and pleasing for me. Following the fire all was quiet for about ten days, with no nearby human foraging or looting since most of the street was burned and now lay valueless. There were some roaming dogs, but their numbers started declining, maybe being eaten. Who wants to eat a starving dog? Choices need to be made I guess, but how much will they change with time and changing circumstances.
Continue ticking Box 4. Remain secure and ever vigilant, and incognito. Pass the time with exercise, meditation, and quietly tending the garden in obscurity.
Nature is surely amazing. Within two weeks of the fire, spontaneous regeneration of plants of all sorts occurred in yards where houses once stood, as well as on the footpaths. Within four weeks the road was also being transformed. Cracks had become doorways for new colonisation. Wind and water strewn debris was also accumulating and being colonised. Who ever thought we lived in sustainable secure housing and social infrastructure? The economic boom and technological revolution had been hit fair in the head, and been replaced by beautiful sunsets, especially spectacular following the recent eruptions of volcanoes in Papua New Guinea.
CHAPTER 11
World Perspective. We were totally ignorant of how widespread were the effects of what we were experiencing. Without us knowing, and with no way of finding out, I could only guess at what had caused our blackout of power and communication. We were effectively isolated from our own country, and indeed the rest of the world. Crazy really. Life for nearly everybody we had ever known, as well as ourselves, used to be programmed with definite certainties, customs, rituals and expectations. Not anymore. It has been said that nothing brings one into the present more than being hit in the face. How true. What had happened to our society was akin to an individual being hit with a Zen whacking stick, or kyosaku. The stick is part of Zen religious practice to draw the meditator out of abstract thinking and into the present. But this was on a grand scale affecting everybody as far as I could tell. Not quite enlightenment, but enlightening none-the-less. The Australian government was evidently dysfunctional, now more so than usual. Members of government were usually geographically widespread and as vulnerable as anybody else. The same applied to the salaried public servants. Equally ineffective was the Australian military. Air transport and ground transport had failed on a massive scale. In the event the military or ASIO had sequestered electronic equipment in the likelihood of nuclear attack or electromagnetic pulse, and because of possible lingering atmospheric conditions, time had to pass before it could be used without being damaged. So here I was with family and new family in something grander than a Zen moment, in the early stages of imminent societal collapse.
CHAPTER 12
First Contact. Low tech supremacy! A few years ago, I established a communication link between my Sunnybank home and our Northern Rivers base at Clunes. For me it had been for the fun of it, and then the simplicity of its usefulness had become compelling. Because we had ground transport between the two locations at least every two weeks, I had arranged a pigeon aviary at both locations. The homing ability of a pigeon lasts up to about three months, at least eight weeks. So, with every trip made an exchange of birds between lofts was made. Theoretically then, whilst I had sufficient Northern Rivers birds to last, I had communication capability with home base for about eight weeks. Week one down, seven left. The birds we had been breeding were all blue to near-black to minimise predation by hawks when in transit. They were all strong and well fed, and used to carrying a secure document pouch. Day seven and time to message home.
“Dear Jill,
I am safely at home with Ray, Mr and Mrs Chung, Julie Everson (daughter of Bill) and her friend Carol Wagner. An extraordinary first week it has been. Traffic has virtually stopped, with vehicles littering the roads. People numbers appear to be in decline. Judging from neighbourhood smells, cooking and BBQ’s have declined. Fires have spread and devoured whole blocks of houses. I can no longer hear roosters crowing in the early hours. It is becoming quiet and sinister. Even the sunsets are subsiding. We are faring quietly and well. With your help planning was superb. We are greeted with beautiful country awakenings care of abundant lorikeets and galahs. All industrial age noise has gone, except for our cool room fridges. Thanks Alf. Will message in about a week’s time hoping nothing unsurprising happens. Trusting all is well with you and everybody there. Two birds being released three minutes apart.
Hope to talk soon, love Jack.”
Same message, two birds. A hawk may get one but two? Hopefully not. We isolated two birds that night to regulate their food intake prior to flying. They were fed a small ration of high energy sunflower seed and other light grains at 7.30am for release at 9am and 9.03am respectively. This allowed them to fly in a quiet time of day for most birds, to arrive at home base at lunchtime. It was possible a return message could arrive the following day.
Next day a pmail arrived from Jill just before lunch.
“Dear Jack and family,
Two birds safely home. A pleasant surprise. FJ saw them come in and hurried the satchels to me straight away. A special hello to your new guests Julie and Carol. It is wonderful to know that all is going well for you despite the growing tragedy that surrounds you. We are all safe and well here. Though isolated, we have a secure 24 hour watch indefinitely. Some isolated and infrequent vehicle traffic has been heard, but we expect no trouble. We disguised our entrance to further conceal the track in. No one is expected but we are remaining vigilant. Alf sends his regards, as do we all. He thinks we should be able to use our radios in a week or two. I expect to contact our primary Australian client then. He is holidaying at his farm near Grafton, so physically close. Please only mail us weekly or in the event of an emergency. Love to all, Jill.”
CHAPTER 13
During the week following Easter, our extended family at Sunnybank had without conflict, or need for much guidance, established a rhythm in their daily activities. I did not assign duties to anyone, only restrictions. Mr and Mrs Chung were exacting in their elected undertakings. Mrs Chung directed all meals, while Mr Chung ensured washing, sweeping and cleaning was up-to-date each day. For me it was like living in a serviced motel. Mr and Mrs Chung were so dedicated in everything they did, and appeared happy doing so and being part of our family. What I admired most was their pride in achieving consistently high standards. Off course I was not the only one to see this, or be affected by it. Having set the example of high standards was infectious; we all tried to be more exacting in anything we did.
Though Julie and Carol shared a room, it was not long before they each established routines and interests separate from each other. What intrigued Carol the most was Mrs Chung’s kimono collection. She seemed to wear a different one each day, giving her the appearance of lady of the house. In talking together Carol found out that Mrs Chung had been a kimono maker for a geisha house when she had once lived near Kyoto. She told Carol she enjoyed the exactitude and neatness of the tailored finished product. Since coming to Australia she had acquired a selection of locally produced fabrics and had yet to start sewing again. To Carol’s surprise, Mrs Chung said, “Carol, come,” and she took Carol’s arm in hers and led her to a corner of her bedroom where she kept an ornately carved camphor wood chest. Upon opening it Carol saw that
Mrs Chung’s fabric collection was entirely composed of Australian Aboriginal art prints. Mrs Chung caught the look of surprise in Carol’s eye.
“I am a traditionalist in many ways, but we must also be willing to explore and change. This is part of both my Chinese and Japanese heritages. I now live in Australia, and so I am embracing a little of that near lost culture in the way I know best. You now live here also. You choose which ever one you like so we can start.”
Carol started little bobbing up and down movements with her excitement, and then gave Mrs Chung a kiss and a hug as if she was a long-lost Aunty. Mrs Chung then extracted a book from the chest and explained the various types of kimono and the traditions and history of some of the ones she most liked. Handing the book to Carol she said, “I would be happy and honoured for you to accept this as a gift. Now I must go and start dinner preparations, and check on my husband. Tomorrow we start measuring and cutting.” With that said they left the bedroom and went their separate ways.
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Julie had been watching some of Ray’s light afternoon training and approached when he appeared to have finished a section.
“I notice Ray that some of your forms have slow movements in them. Is that a bit like Tai Chi?”
“Ah, yes and no. Tai Chi is a highly-misunderstood discipline and what most people see today is really far removed from its martial art origins. It is mostly a meagre reflection of its former self. My take on it is that fighting arts were a necessity in China, and elsewhere of course. But in China, guards protected village compounds and imperial guards protected envoys and emperors. They did not practice their art for heath, though this is of course a benefit, but for survival. Martial Arts in China were originally called Chinese boxing, and many styles and forms developed. The origin of Tai Chi apparently lies with the Chen family, currently in about its fourteenth generation. It is from the Chens that the popular Yang Tai Chi is derived. Go back a hundred years and the greats of Tai Chi were untouchable, having survived, sometimes to the death of assailants, numerous fights. Where a martial art has multiple forms of numerous movements, some with over a hundred, speed must be moderated. Modern karate forms typically range in length from 21 to greater than 60 movements. Slow movements and sequences are normal. Few but elite athletes could perform long forms at speed, and then maybe not so well. Also, as masters aged, sometimes into their eighties, they modified and slowed forms to meet their needs. High kicks were the first to be removed for example. Popular 18 and 24 movement forms are readily practised by people of all ages, and indeed are peaceful to do. But more to the point, for a fast technique to be effective, it must first be mastered at slow speed. Speed should not be used to hide poor technique. An ineffective technique remains ineffective whether performed slow or fast.
“Will you accept me as a trainee student?”
“You have studied dance before. My role is not that of a standard teacher but more like a specialised choreographer and coach. The best martial artists had teachers that taught individuals, somewhat like dance solos, rather than teaching all to do the same routine. The Chinese martial arts fragmented into countless forms and schools because of this. A skinny 55kg body performs differently, both intrinsically and through necessity, from a 110kg body. Let me give you an example. Karate lesson 101. One of the four basic blocks is the outside block soto uke. Regarding what you said about dance and netball, this is where technique and strategy make the difference between effective blocking and deflecting, and having your arm broken. The 110kg body, for either striking or blocking has probably four to five times as much arm mass as the 55kg body. The 110kg Hells Angel can easily survive with a ‘just put it there’ technique against a 55kg attack. Most times he will succeed admirably. With the reverse situation, the 55kg body needs both strategy and good technique to survive. Something the 110kg bloke rarely understands. An analogy I like is that of a 747 coming into land. If it just drops, things break all over the place. With proper technique wheels and undercarriage embrace the ground at a shallow angle and travel over distance ensuring damage to neither plane nor runway. The same principle applies for defence. Let me show you. If our arms come together and stop, it is violent and can lead to bruising or a break. If instead, your arm in blocking me twists and travels a distance to deflect the strike, my strike is ineffective and neither of us is hurt. A case of choosing an appropriate technique and applying it skilfully.”
Julie being quick to follow said “I like it. Let’s do some more.”
“Let’s back track a little. I am pleased you followed what we just did. Most students have little or no response to what we just did, for whatever reason. The body can only move in so many ways, and we can teach and train to overcome unfamiliarity. Let me explain. Children are not born to ride push bikes, but readily learn and never forget. In martial arts, natural movement is utilised, and through training is moulded into highly effective offensive and defensive technique. Let us start with the simplest of movements, and show you how it can be developed. Martial art is not just rote learning, but a voyage in self-discovery for those who pursue it.
The Chinese practice of swinging arms is a good place to start. The movement begins with the feet on the ground, and with the legs and hips initiating the movement. Remember I said before, full body movement. With this exercise, the hands and upper body are directed from below, and when followed through into offensive and defensive techniques you can be near invincible. To initiate from above without the lower body is energetically expensive and less effective. If you are in a wheel chair though, there may be exceptions to that. But such is not the case here and now. For you to better understand place a thumb from each hand on each of your glutes, and as you turn you should feel alternating contraction and partial relaxation. Good. Now the next thing we are going to do is walk. Rarely considered or explained in modern martial arts is how to walk. Traditionally, in China at least, it was often the case with new students spending years on basic stances and walking before being taught any other movements or forms. This was time well spent. Now-a-days we are in too much of a hurry and consequently a lot is missed. Walking, naturally, is moving from one location to another. Watch what happens when I move from here to over there. I will do it as best I can first up, followed by what gets me to where I am going but with techniques that would take too long, or include additional unwanted movements, or those lacking power. Ray demonstrated. The first technique is direct, can be fast and does what I want it to do. Now look at the second one. See the extra foot movement which slows me down, and shows my opponent what I am about to do. The third method- ahh- terrible. The power, instead of going forward, goes partly up, and the fourth, the power goes partly back. So, intellectually we want to have no wasted movements, and deliver maximum power to our destination. I think we can now progress.” They continued for a little while longer with Julie intent on trying to not miss anything.
Carol met Julie shortly after in their room, and it was obvious to each other that they had both enjoyed the previous few hours. It was a contest as to who went first as they both spoke at once, and then stopped to not talk over each other.
Carol was the first to speak. “I’m so excited. Mrs Chung is going to make me a kimono starting tomorrow, and is going to teach me how. She is so amazing. What a week it has been. And is that a twinkle I see in your eye there Julie?”
Julie had been training with Ray since lunch time. “I think Ray said something he would rather not have. Anyway, I’m off for a shower.”
Before Carol could question her further, Julie was gone. Carol waited, and waited some more. But Julie was in no hurry and so purposefully took her time. As she emerged Carol said, “You meanie. Now tell me more.” But it was time for dinner instead.
CHAPTER 14
Involution. I was confident the possibility of cabin fever developing within our compound was exceedingly slim. When weather permitted, we would have most of our meals outdoors surrounded by the colours and fragrances of the garden. To
make it a little more interesting, Mr Chung and I would move the table and chairs each day to a different location within the garden. I had designed into the outdoor area seven distinct areas for table settings. It became a ritual that we both enjoyed and indulged in after lunch. We had one rule – no one else was to watch us moving them, making sure the evening meal had an added surprise element. Mr Chung had taken a liking to bonsai in Japan, and since meeting him he and I had established a modest collection together. And so part of our moving ritual was to not only move furniture, but also bonsai pots. The same applied to garden statuary that was light enough to move. We ensured we had a living garden, and not just a well maintained static monotony. Part of the garden’s statuary included Buddas, so they appeared to wander around the garden as if on some kind of migratory ritual of their own design. Though there was a clearly Asian theme to the garden, most notably accented by the dong mai water pots from Thailand lining the main path, and assorted Balinese statues, the wandering Buddas were not alone. Keeping check on what was going on was a family of gnomes. Some enjoyed accompanying the buddas, whilst others hid behind various statues trying to surprise or confront them. One gnome was particularly confronting. He had a text in one hand and a stick in the other. His nickname was Abbot, an aspiring master of Zen. The buddas though were always compassionate and would answer his queries before quietly continuing to wander on their journeys. Moving the buddas and gnomes around each day inspired me to think about writing a script for an animated movie of all their wanderings and encounters. Always nice to dream. Maybe something for another day.