Power Lines - Carolyn Rudinsky

The cattle station was filled with angry stockmen. It had been six weeks with no power and those that lived there were getting bored, hopeless and irate. They had had very little contact with the outside world or their wives, kids, and families, in far too long, and nerves were getting frazzled. They’d had enough.

The storm in March had brought down power, phone and internet lines, and they were sick of waiting for reconnection. It reached boiling point.  Why wasn’t Chester doing more? They could see lights on now at a nearby ranch when they drove past at night, and couldn’t understand the delay in getting reconnected.

Chester was at his wits’ end. He had been moving mountains to have the problem rectified but the idiots he’d been dealing with were a new breed of hopeless. All this on top of the loss of some of his cattle from the storm; it was all taking its toll. He was still haunted by the look on one of his best heifer’s eyes as her calf was swept away in floodwaters.

When would things improve, he wondered. ‘It’s alright for you, Chester,’ the men said. ‘Your wife and kids are here with you. Ours are miles away and we can’t zoom, talk, or see them at all.’ All the men could do was drive 2.5 hours into town to call their loved ones. It sucked.

Slowly the men started breaking their contracts with Chester and leaving the station. First the most outspoken, then more followed. Finally he was left alone.

The day the power was returned to the station, four months after the storm, Chester placed a For Sale sign at the front. His losses without his stockmen to work his cattle had cost him huge.