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    quokka
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Desert Air - 4. DA Ch 4 - Trespassers

“Did you not come across a fence and a sign back at the last road junction, stating that the road is closed due to a restoration project?” I asked, “We did, but we thought we could come and have a look,” one of the ladies replied.

“You are ill informed and you were not told by the information centre that it is ok to just come by to look at it, as all information has been removed by them, so you are not only trespassing, but also lying to me, now once again, I ask you to return the way you came, and I suggest you repair any damage that you did to the fence, as I will be passing on your vehicle registration to the police,” I said.

“Who gives you the right to give us orders, out here in the middle of nowhere,” the man demanded, “I am the restoration project manager, now get in your vehicle and leave now,” I said with more forcefulness in my voice.

“Ok, but you have not heard the last from us about this, we will be posting this online,” the man replied. “You do that, and you will find yourself in court, not only for trespassing, but also for interfering with a Federal restoration project, now get the hell of this land,” I said.

When I saw one of the group, about to take a photo, I turned my back, so as not to get my face in the picture, and I pulled my broad brim hat down lower, as I walked back to the plane, where I stopped and waited.

I heard the vehicle getting closer, so I kept my back to the vehicle to keep my face hidden, as it circled the plane a number of times before returning the way it came. Once their vehicle was far enough away, I retrieved the sat phone, but before I could make a call, the phone rang. “It is me dear, I have called the police, they are on their way out here, and did you manage to get their rego number?” Mum said to me.

“Yes I did, they are European tourists, five if them in total, two men and three women, driving a white Toyota Landcruiser Troop carrier, Victorian number plates, you cant miss them, oh and they were trying to get a photo of my face, but I think I kept my back to them long enough for them not to get one, but get the police to check their mobile phones, and tell them I wish to press charges for trespassing and interfering with a Federal Restoration project, by doing broggies at the end of the runway,” I replied.

“Not sure if that second one is a possible charge, but I will pass it on, how much longer will you be out there?” Mum responded, “I have completed a good look around, can you ask Mrs Parkinson, if she can fit one more in for lunch?” I asked, and Mum chuckled, “Already done, we will see you soon, bye,” Mum said before ending the call.

When I approached the Corunna Downs airfield, I saw a police vehicle heading away from the homestead, and as I circled the homestead I saw a second one parked at the homestead. Mum and a police sergeant stepped out onto the verandah once my plane had come to a stop not far from the end of the runway.

“Sergeant, this is my oldest son, and manager of the restoration project, Jexon. Son, this is Sergeant Paul Brooks,” Mum said making the introductions. “Nice to meet you Jexon, I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was a few years older than you when we attending high school in Broome,” the police officer said as he shook my hand.

“Sorry, no I don’t remember, that was some time back, so much has happened since those days,” I responded smiling, “Very true, now is there any chance you can take me up at this magnificent plane, so we can see what damage they have caused?” the police Sergeant asked me.

“Sure why not, we will be back in a little bit,” I replied. A few minutes later once in the air, “wow, this is great, I have flown in Police jets before, but nothing quite like this one, she is a beauty,” the police sergeant said.

As I went down low over the road leading into the area, and the fence and been pulled down, and thrown aside, and climbing a little higher as we approached the airfields, we did two complete circles to give the police officer an aerial view of the damage caused, before landing on the smaller runway, and stopping just short of where the broggies are clearly visible.

The sergeant had a good look around, and using his mobile he took a number of photographs, before coming back to the plane. “Thanks that is all I need, they will be charged with destruction of a historical monument, and trespassing, which will get them all a hefty fine, and maybe a few weeks in prison, depending on the mood of the magistrate, we can head back now,” the sergeant said to me.

Once back at the Corunna Downs Homestead, after a few barrel rolls in the air, I was smiling broadly as the sergeant staggered on his feet. “Oh dear, Jexon, you didn’t did you?” Mum said as she rushed to help the police officer, “Luckily I am in no mood to find some sort of charge for turning me into jelly,” the sergeant said, as Mum helped him up the stairs and inside.

Once the police sergeant had recovered from his joy ride, he bid us farewell and headed back to town in his police vehicle, while we sat down for lunch, and only then did Mum burst out laughing, “You are so naughty, but the look on his face as he climbed out of the plane was a hoot,” Mum said after calming down a little, and we all joined in laughing.

After an enjoyable lunch, we said farewell to our neighbours, and made the short flight back home, and this time it was Mary who came out to meet us in the station vehicle. “You are the talk of the district, we heard the Sergeant report in that he had just been on the joyride from hell, but since the reason for being in the biplane was for investigation purposes, there is nothing he can do about it,” Mary announced to us, and Mum burst out laughing again.

Mary frowned, wondering what she had said made our mother laugh, “Don’t worry Sis, Mum is laughing at the look on the sergeant’s face when he stumbled out of the plane, it was quite a funny sight,” I explained, as we climbed in and headed for home.

Later that day, apart from the district gossip going around, we heard that the five tourist were all found guilty of two charges, and were fined $5,000 each and sentenced to three months jail, with all but 2 weeks suspended, which meant they were sent to jail, plus their tourist visa’s have been cancelled and they will be deported home, once their sentence has been completed, and they would not be permitted to return for a period of five years.

After lunch, I gave my siblings a short joy ride in the plane, with two at a time, including a few barrel rolls, of which the girls screamed and the boys laughed. I was not sure if they were laughing in fear or fun, but it was much better than the screaming in my ears, and I made sure to keep well clear of the WW2 Air base, so they had no idea what is happening there.

For two weeks, Marcus and I were kept busy on the station helping out with usual station work, and I made two more trips out to the Airbase, when Dad was keeping Marcus and the siblings busy, and with Mr & Mrs Parkinson now in the loop on what is happening, they made an effort to make sure to keep tourists out of the airbase.

When it was time to return to civilisation in the big city, I had decide to leave my plane in Port Hedland, where I could keep it safe, while I am away, and Marcus and I took a commercial flight back to Perth. “Now this is much more comfortable than your plane,” Marcus commented after the plane had taken off and turned to head south.

“Cheeky sod,” I replied, as I too leaned back to enjoy the comfortable two hour flight to Perth, instead of 1 ½ days it would have taken us in the Biplane. Once back in Perth, we settled down for another semester of studies, and for Marcus, who is a year older than me, this was his final year of Veterinary studies, while I still have one more year to go.

When we could Marcus and I would get together to hang out and enjoy a music festival, a concert or a movie, or something like that, just to get away from the University for a while.

On occasions we would discuss our futures once we have graduated, and near the end of the year before his final exams, Marcus announced that the has been offered a job as junior vet at a veterinary clinic in Carnarvon, which he has accepted, and committed at least two years to the job.

This made me sad in a way, knowing that he would be so far away, but he had a career to begin, as will I will I have finished my studies next year. When I arrived home in the third week of December, having flown to Port Hedland in a commercial flight, then the rest in my Biplane, filled with Christmas presents for all the family, I was greeted at our airfield by the whole family, in three vehicles, which surprised me a little, but I was glad to be home and to see the family again.

Later that evening, after dinner, and after all of my siblings were in bed, Mum, Dad and I sat down for a quiet chat. “So how is the project going?” I asked as soon as I sat down, and Dad laughed, “Can’t wait to get down to business, eh son,” he said to me.

“Too right,” I replied smiling. “How did your friend go, he graduates this year doesn’t he?’ Mum asked, and I frowned at her for changing the subject, “He did a lot better than he thought thankyou, and once he has completed his registration and paid the membership fees, he will starting his new job in Carnarvon,” I replied.

“Ok, down to business, the boundary fence is completed, and there are very heavy duty gates at the north entry and south-east entry points to the project, and as you recommended a car park area has been cleared on the north side of the creek, with a low railway iron gate just before the creek crossing to prevent vehicles from crossing over.

I have had a Port Hedland based building company start reconstructing the sheds, using the old shed frames that we have managed to salvage from all over Australia, along with a lot of used corrugated iron roofing, to get the old shed look to it, but we have modernised a little with the roof insulation, and a modern underlay of corrugated iron, to make sure that the roof and walls are waterproof, and to hide the modern insulation.

Windows will remain as frames only for now, and there are a total of 11 buildings that will be reconstructed, as we have found a few hidden concrete slabs, that have been cleared away, as has both runways. Using the grader, I carefully scraped away all of the shrubs and some of the grasses, and Mum and I spent two long days, spraying the grasses to kill them.

Once that was done I scaped most of it away with the grader, and the rest was covered over by the new layer of Bitumen that was put on last month, Dad announced. “Wow, that is a lot of activity, so what are the building team doing in the way of accommodation and such?” I asked.

“I have leased some transportable buildings, which include a water tank and pressure pump, solar power and I even included satellite TV for them. There is one building with two double rooms and shared bathroom, and two buildings with six single rooms with three shared bathrooms, plus a kitchen, dining and lounge building. The camp is located just inside the south-east gate to the project, and it was used firstly by the fencing contractors and now the building company.

The Parkinson’s have kindly filled the water tank every five days for us, and the five metre space between the four buildings, which are two on each side, is covered with shade cloth for additional shade space for the workers, and a composting septic tank has been installed to deal with sewerage,” Dad said to me.

“Sounds very good, so how long before the rebuilding of the sheds are completed?” I asked, “The building company is doing this job for us on the cheap, so they are doing it in between other bigger jobs, so far they have completed the hospital and the workshops, and I have spent a bit of extra time out there, carefully restoring some of the plane pits, starting with the ones on the western side,’ Dad replied.

Copyright © 2020 quokka; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Good chapters. A tad on the short side but frequent posting should quell our hunger for more.

Would be nice if Jex and Marcus can reconnect in the near future and become better mates? Business partners? A shame Jex didn't trust Marcus enough for a tour of the future 'aero museum', maybe tripping over an unseen entrance's hidden door (I know from experience many a quonset / hospital had such 'doors' inside).

On another note, has our young Earl discovered more about his mum's 'motor accident'? MI involved? Time for a quick 5 (min) chapter update from the Isle of Wight and the Earldom north of London.

(yep, I'm also a cheeky sod, and a freelance writer / editor who likes to tweak an author's ear as a reminder). 

;-p

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5 hours ago, Anton_Cloche said:

Good chapters. A tad on the short side but frequent posting should quell our hunger for more.

Would be nice if Jex and Marcus can reconnect in the near future and become better mates? Business partners? A shame Jex didn't trust Marcus enough for a tour of the future 'aero museum', maybe tripping over an unseen entrance's hidden door (I know from experience many a quonset / hospital had such 'doors' inside).

On another note, has our young Earl discovered more about his mum's 'motor accident'? MI involved? Time for a quick 5 (min) chapter update from the Isle of Wight and the Earldom north of London.

(yep, I'm also a cheeky sod, and a freelance writer / editor who likes to tweak an author's ear as a reminder). 

😜

Cheeky sod

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Somebody is going to end up in the bottom of one of those holes in the ground at the Air Base I will wager, but an accident like that wouldjust make for an interesting sidelight to the story. 

I would recommend, Quokka, that you get an Editor to work with you on some of the grammar errors in the writing – there are not many, but a simple word change here and there would make the writing perfect.
Mr. Will

 

 

 

 

 

 

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