Free Trouble in Nirvana by Elisabeth Rose Page A

“I think maybe that’s why I’ve come here, too.”
    Nirupam smiled tentatively, waiting for her to continue but there was no solution to be had there. Nirupam had her own problems.
    Primrose said, “But bad as he was, Dad wasn’t as insane as Kurt. He thinks you should just squat down in a paddock for the birth. Can you imagine what crazy ideas he’ll have about how to care for the baby? And he won’t keep them to himself.”
    Nirupam’s eyes opened wide and she nodded. Her hand went unconsciously, protectively, to her belly.
    “He really has to go,” said Primrose.
    “We can discuss it tonight at the meeting.”
    Discuss it? We? Cripes! Didn’t she get it? “No. We have to talk to Danny. Alone. He’s the boss. He can kick someone out, no discussion needed.”
    Nirupam bent her head over her jewellery. “Did you meet the others?” she asked after a few moments of intense polishing.
    “Only Fern and Mojo.”
    “They brought someone else in with them. Brendan.” She glanced up and then down again before Primrose caught her eye.
    “I met him. Do you know him?” Skinny with a face like a melting candle.
    Nirupam shook her head. She straightened her back and edged her bottom forward, wincing.
    Primrose exhaled. Maybe this unknown quantity Brendan, despite the unlikely packaging, would offer something useful and offset the ravings of Kurt.
    ****
    The communal meeting began after dinner.
    “First we should welcome our newest members, Rosie and Brendan.” Kurt had appointed himself chairman.
    “Thanks,” Primrose said amidst the chorus of greetings. She was perched on one end of the saggy couch thigh to skinny thigh with Jason who squeezed in next to Fern. Mojo sat on the floor amidst the fading threadbare pink roses.
    The scrawny, grey-haired hippy nodded and smiled. He wore a vacant expression most of the time, alleviated occasionally by either a slightly bewildered frown or a vague smile. At lunch he hadn’t said much but afterward, with surprising alacrity, he offered to wash the dishes. Harmless, willing, and not altogether useless, but the extent of his abilities remained to be seen. He’d been helping Danny earlier but when they came in for lunch Danny hadn’t looked happy.
    Kurt, with a style of delivery reminiscent of the best in Hollywood Nazi oratory, addressed Primrose directly. “Our ideal here is equality for all. No-one has less say than the others. Everyone has equal voting on decisions which affect us all. Those who don’t like this system can leave whenever they want.” The last sentence was accompanied by a glower from under the wild, hedge-like eyebrows.
    “Everyone contributes what they can. Everyone brings different skills,” explained Fern with a smile at Brendan who now resembled a terrified basset hound even though Kurt ignored him completely, focussing on Primrose.
    The crazy German appeared to assume she couldn’t grasp the basics of a democratic society. She did. The question was, did anyone else? “Can I ask how the bills like rates and electricity are paid? Are they equally divided?”
    “We figure things out.” Danny, peeved and showing it. “Don’t worry about it.”
    “I’d like to know.”
    “It all works out,” said Kurt. “Some people contribute in kind. Money isn’t everything. Society has brainwashed you into thinking that way. Here we do away with those capitalist notions.”
    “Right,” muttered Primrose. And who was the most upset about Danny’s land price? Not Danny or herself. “Remind me of that when the next bill comes.”
    “Can we have reports for the week, please?” said Kurt. “I will go first. The dry weather has affected the crops very badly and without the windmill it’s hard to water. The birds are eating everything. I collected five tomatoes today.” Five small misshapen tomatoes with splits and marks.
    “I fixed the windmill today,” said Danny in a flat voice. “The dam is about half full.”
    Hah! No more excuses for the