Chapter 13

Less than two weeks later, Tawab, Farzana and Tela were installed in a two-room house and Gabbaitch had a small herd of goats wandering the slope of what had once been Carl Bay, the northwest limb of Lake Argyle. Tawab went out every morning, shoo-ing his charges to greener shoots. Farzana had status among the women as a practicing (though degree-less) gynaecologist and obstetrician. And Tela listened to stories. Her favourite was:

Once in the dusk, Oona was in the garden collecting vegetables for supper when her digging stick turned on something solid. She felt down with her fingers and brought up a large, circular dish which she held over her head. Light played on the dish. Oona sat down with her special cleaning cloth and cleaned the dish. But it was too dirty and she left it by the door until after she had prepared and eaten supper. Then she cleaned it some more. It was dark. It was black. But as Oona moved her hand from left to right it began to shine silver white.

Each evening after supper Oona cleaned the dish. She cleaned the dish for fourteen days. It got cleaner and shinier but was too big to take into the house. When the whole dish was clean, her sisters were delighted and wanted to hang it high on the wall. Oona thought so too, but there were still dark spots on the dish. It should have no blemish if it were to go on the wall.

But when she rubbed it more and more — right to left -- for another fourteen days it got darker. Not brighter. And she still works on the dish every night.

But for Jos and Gabbaitch a new menace had appeared.

One morning, a RangeRover with “Government of Western Australia / Department of Mines, Industry Regulation and Safety” on its doors rolled up and a man in chinos and boots got out. He demanded “approvals” under the Building Act. Jos had no notion, but Sam immediately phoned his father.

“Another drongo!” Patrick exclaimed. “Is he there?”

“Yes. He’s wandering about peeking into homes.”

“OK. Give me a minute, I’ll find the rules online ... Ah! Here we are! Can you put him on? Introduce me as ‘Patrick Hollister.’ OK?”

“Right.” Sam told the man that the group’s attorney was on the line.

“Hullo?”

“Hello. I’m Patrick Hollister. I understand you have an inquiry under the State’s Building Act 2011.”

“Right.”

“I don’t believe that any of the structures where you are fall under that Act.”

“What?”

“Section 1 states: ‘There is no formal definition of a building in the Building Act; it takes its normal meaning, such as in a dictionary or in normal conversation. In the vast majority of cases, there is no doubt when the particular structure under consideration is a building. Guidance can be taken from the classification of buildings in the Building Code of Australia (BCA), being Volumes One and Two of the National Construction Code Series.’ Furthermore, Part 5 of the Act provides for exemptions to requirements. I suggest your office read the sections on ‘Areas where building permit not required’ and ‘Kinds of building work for which a building permit is not required’ prior to going further. Any further questions?”

“No. Unh. No, sir.”

“Ask Jos or Sam for my card and give them one of yours.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” He extended the phone; Sam took it.

“This is Sam.”

“Get the bloke’s card and give him one of mine.”

“Thank you.”

“I just read him part of the Act.”

“I’ll call again later.”

“Fine.”

The ‘agent’ got into his Rover and vanished in a plume of dust. Sam looked at Jos. “Fighting the eternal battle against bureaucracy!” he said.

“What will happen?”

“Nothing for a while. Then they might send someone with a piece of paper. A few days prior to the ‘last response’ date, Patrick will send them a letter with many citations. A year after that, there may be another attempt. Our next move is to have some organization declare us something. We just persist making things complex.”

“My grandfather says: ‘You can always get around the rules by obeying the rules’.”

End of Part 2