The walls of Government House echoed with an uncanny emptiness. Jarrah was a bundle of nerves; he paced the room, his face reflecting a stern maturity that seemed far beyond his years. He replayed the speech over and over in his head as he circled the private dining area of the residence. John observed him from the corner, a swell of pride welling up inside him as he watched his son step into the world of adult responsibility. While not his own child from birth, he raised him as if he were his. Jarrah warmed to John’s fatherly figure, and he looked up to him every day, as if he were his biological father. John cleared his throat, drawing Jarrah’s attention. ‘How are you feeling, son?’ he asked, watching as Jarrah paced.
‘I’m, I’m okay. I think.’
‘Remember,’ he said. ‘Being a VIP isn’t just about enjoying the privileges. It’s about carrying the burden of expectations.’ He moved towards his son, his eyes reflecting his deep trust in him.
‘Yeah,’ said Jarrah. ‘It’s just gonna take a bit of time to get used to.’ The words resonated within Jarrah, stirring a mix of gratitude and overwhelming anticipation. John’s gaze dropped to his father’s sturdy hand on his shoulder. A knock at the door interrupted their moment. Jarrah’s security detail appeared.
‘Mr. Bradley, the car is ready out front, sir,’ said an officer. The once silent room now hummed with a tense anticipation.
‘You’ve got this, son. We’re all proud of you, especially your mother.’
‘I still can’t believe she’s the President of Australia.’ ‘Neither can I, but you need to get going or you’ll be late.’ Jarrah grabbed his blazer and ran his hand through his ruffled hair.
‘What’s happening with mum?’ John checked his watch, realising Merin had been gone longer than expected.
‘She’s not back from her meeting. She’ll see you later. Be good son.’ Jarrah welcomed the peck on the forehead from John. John’s pep talk made him think of his mother, the strong, determined woman who was now the leader of their nation. The sense of pride mingled with the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders, threatening to overwhelm him. He held a steady face, his acceptance followed the security officers to the main entrance. The vehicle set off, rolling across the broad avenues of Canberra towards the school. He leaned against the leather seat, already exhausted by everything. He had no idea how his mother was coping with this. His mind drifted back to the day he found out about this grand adventure.
Some Time Ago
Jarrah Bradley’s worn-out school shoes ground into the parched earth of Alice Springs, the dust swirling lazily around his ankles. The scent of the eucalyptus, sharp and clean, perfumed the arid air, as the wind whispered tales of time through the gnarled branches of the ancient ghost gums. A uniform of faded blue, worn thin at the elbows, clung to his lean body as he trudged to the entrance. Jarrah was a striking image of his Indigenous heritage; his eyes, pools of liquid amber, reflected the landscape that shaped his soul. He pushed the fly-screen door open, and the moment he stepped inside, the delicious scent of lemon myrtle, subtly permeating from the simmering bush tucker stew, greeted him. ‘Hey, mum, dad.’
‘Hey, sweetheart.’ A warmth seeped into Merindah’s tone that belied the serious news she was about to share. ‘How was school today, boy?’ asked John.
‘Yeah. It was pretty chill, got some homework to do, though.’ Jarrah shrugged off his school bag onto the weathered couch. His mother’s gaze flickered, her fingers twining nervously around the silver pendant resting against her chest.
‘Listen, sweetheart. We need to talk.’ A moment of dread washed over him, causing his pulse to spike.
What the hell have I done now? He thought, the white hairs on his arms sticking up.
‘Am I in trouble?’ he asked.
‘No.’ John dismissed it with a soft chuckle, crinkling the corners of his keen eyes. ‘Quite the opposite in fact.’
‘Your Uncle Joe stopped by the other day.’ Merindah’s words hung in the air, a ghostly echo that immediately deflated Jarrah’s anticipation of seeing his favourite uncle.
‘He did? Wish I could’ve seen him.’
‘You will be seeing him more often soon,’ Merindah assured him.
‘Why’s that, mum?’ Jarrah poured himself a glass of water.
‘Joe wants me to consider becoming the President of Australia.’ The words struck Jarrah like a boomerang, rebounding off his walls of comprehension. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes, and it’s going to put a lot of attention on us. The media. They’ll scrutinise every move we make. Especially since you are Indigenous, they’ll be waiting for us to falter.’ Understanding dawned in his eyes, as a spark of admiration ignited within him.
‘Don’t worry, dad. I reckon I can handle it.’ His eyes met his mother’s, the pride in them matched by her own.
Australia Day
‘We’re here, Mr. Bradley,’ said one of the protection officers, as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
‘Thanks.’ Jarrah’s stomach dropped. ‘I, I wasn’t prepared for such a large gathering,’ he said.
‘Try and stay with us, sir. You’ll be fine,’ said the second officer, as they climbed out. Jarrah’s skin clammed under the blazing heat as the car door opened. The blast of hot air washing over his face as he stepped out. He was greeted with cheers. He couldn’t help but let a smile light up his face, basking in the waves of anticipation and shared joy. He posed for selfies, signed autographs, his supporters’ admiration a comforting buffer against the looming speech.
Eventually, he made his way towards the high school, the crowd parting in a wave of hushed whispers and admiring glances. His confident strides held the promise of a well- delivered speech and further consolidated his emerging identity as a public figure.
***
Unbeknownst to Jarrah and his security detail, several hundred meters from the school, a dark coloured van lurked in the shadows. Inside, two masked men watched as Jarrah disappeared into the school building. Their eyes, unblinking, held a glint of cold, calculated intent. ‘Is that him?’ one of them asked.
‘Yep. That’s him alright. That’s the little pretty boy,’ said the other.
‘Let’s grab him!’ The other, more superior than his comrade, stopped him.
‘Not so fast. We have to wait for the right moment. There’s too much security around now. Plus, a hell of a lot more witnesses.’ The other, disappointed, closed his door and went back to glaring at the school’s main entrance.
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