Loreless

by P J Whittlesea

  ‘Kangaroo tails.’

  Billy stood up in surprise. On the other side of the open glass door was a small, well-rounded Aboriginal woman. Her face was beaming and she exuded such warmth and joviality that he couldn’t help but smile back.

  ‘They’re kangaroo tails.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Good tucker. You burn off the fur and bury ‘em in the ground with some hot coals. Depending on where you’re from you eat ‘em rare or well done. Either way it takes a few hours.’

  ‘I-I’m Billy,’ he stuttered. The last thing he had expected was someone to advise him on the finer points of bush culinary procedure.

  ‘I know. Hear Rob’s been taking care of you.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Bit lost are we?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  Behind the well-informed little woman a much younger woman stepped from one of the aisles. She was tall and slender and quite beautiful. He took particular note of her hands: her fingers were long and well manicured. She looked out of place in her surroundings. He could picture her back in the city where she could easily have passed for a model.

  ‘Got what you wanted, Auntie?’

  ‘Yep. Just a minute. Need some eggs.’

  She stepped around the door and, reaching past Billy, pulled out a carton of eggs.

  ‘Be seeing you ‘round, I guess?’

  ‘Ahem, dunno. I’m kind of looking for a way home.’

  ‘Well, I hope you find it.’

  Billy nodded at her and both women returned to the front of the shop. Billy, in a trance, held the freezer door open and watched them leave. He began to feel the chill of the freezer, and, shivering, slammed the door shut and rubbed his arms to warm them up, before finishing his promenade of the freezers. At one end he found the chocolate section. Not able to make a decision, he reached in and grabbed the first thing at eye level: a Mars Bar. He thought for a minute before grabbing a second one. ‘Gonna have to do for now.’

  He walked to the front of the store and laid the chocolate bars on the counter. ‘Who were they?’ He gestured with his head towards the two women who had just left.

  ‘Oh, that was Auntie Doris. She’s like an elder around here.’

  ‘An elder?’

  ‘Well, were still pretty big on traditions around here. It’s like we’re all one big family and she’s kind of a mother to all of us. She knows a lot about the old ways and teaches us stuff.’

  ‘And the girl?’

  ‘That’d be Mabel.’

  Now Billy could understand Rob’s infatuation. Mabel was a striking woman.

  ‘Mabel? Rob’s girl then?’

  ‘Na. He’d like to think so, but they’re just mates. They couldn’t have anything to do with each other anyway; they’re both from the same skin.’

  ‘Skin?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s also a tradition. You’re not allowed to marry anyone from your own family is basically what it’s all about.’

  ‘But you said you were all family?’

  ‘Well, we’re all kinda from the same tribe. The tribe is made up of a few families and you can marry into another family, but not your own.’

  ‘Interesting. Makes sense, I guess.’

  ‘You gonna pay for that?’

  ‘Oh, sorry, yeah.’

  Billy dug deep into his pocket and pulled out the loose change. He dropped it on the counter with a clatter. Daniel slapped his hand down on the coins to stop them rolling off the counter and proceeded to count out what he needed. He then slid the remaining coins back across the counter.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘No worries.’

  Billy unwrapped the chocolate bar with relish. He eyed it for a moment and took a large bite before strolling outside.

  Doug and the Storm

  The glare that hit Billy as he passed through the double doors was like a slap in the face. A stark difference from the store’s dim interior. Night had become day in an instant. It seemed as if the sun was situated on the other side of the street and not somewhere millions of kilometres away in the heavens. The heat was more intense than before. He stepped out onto the wide verandah which shaded the facade of the shop and nearly tripped over a robust, middle-aged Aboriginal man sitting on the steps leading down to street level. The man was in mid sentence. He was extremely animated and gesticulated broadly as he spoke. Billy attempted to say sorry but with his mouth still full only managed a spray of Mars Bar. The man seemed unperturbed, and after a slight pause continued telling his story with even more gusto. Billy took a half step backwards and bumped into Daniel coming out of the store. He grunted an apology through closed lips, not wanting to lose any more of his breakfast.

  As his eyes slowly grew accustomed to the piercing, midday sun he surveyed the street from under his eyebrows. He was taken aback. The deserted town had miraculously transformed into a thriving metropolis. There were people everywhere. A number of small children and young adults sat in a tight semi-circle on the ground in front of the man and were listening intently to his story. The rest of the main street was a hive of activity. At a glance Billy estimated that there were over a hundred people gathered on the street. There was a lot of noise. Small pockets of people were gathered in groups, deep in loud conversation. There were peals of laughter everywhere. It had the air of a large family reunion.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he inquired of Daniel.

  ‘It’s Welfare Day. Everyone’s here to pick up their cheques.’

  ‘Where did they all come from?’

  ‘Oh, pretty much from all over the place.’

  ‘Don’t any of them have jobs?’

  Daniel looked at him incredulously, clearly insulted.

  ‘It’s pretty hard going out here, mate. It’s not like we want it this way. We’d really like to get off of government handouts but it’s difficult. Maybe you should have a chat to Doug here.’ He waved his hand, indicating the man Billy had nearly tripped over. ‘He can explain it better than me.’

  Billy looked down at Doug and decided it wasn’t a good moment to interrupt him. He was in full flight and had a captive audience. Daniel, on the other hand, clearly didn’t feel restricted by etiquette. Unperturbed he stepped forward and gave Doug a gentle nudge.

  ‘Fella here, wants to know why we’re bludging off the dole.’

  Billy protested. ‘No, no, that’s not what I meant.’

  Doug seemed unruffled by the interruption and grinned widely up at him, ‘Take a seat.’

  Sheepishly Billy obliged and sat on the step next to him. Doug laid a hand on his shoulder. It was big and warm, and somehow felt very comforting, almost fatherly.

  ‘I was just telling the kids about this. My father took over this land years ago. First they tried to grow grapes. You know, the eating kind. We worked for years on it. Had to cart water from miles away. It was pretty upsetting when it didn’t work out. Problem was, the termites got to them. All we ended up with was firewood. Since then we’ve turned our hand to cattle and have a bit of a farm set up out there.’

  He swept his arm in front of him. Behind the houses on the other side of the street Billy could only make out trees and low scrub. It all looked incredibly dry and lifeless, not the sort of land that would support anything of much substance. The idea of grape vines growing in such an environment perplexed him. He remembered how lush the Barossa Valley was, the wine-growing region north of Adelaide. It wasn’t conceivable that anything could survive for very long out there. The whole idea struck him as ludicrous. Billy took another bite of his chocolate bar. He could feel the sugar starting to course through his body and began to feel somewhat revived.

  ‘Right now we’re busy sett’n up a bit of a studio so we can make pottery. We want to become self-sufficient but need a bit of help to get it all up and running. We really don’t want to be reliant on government support. Everything you do with ‘em comes at a price. We wanna run things ourselves.’

  Doug spoke with an air
of solid self-belief. He was fiercely passionate about this. Billy had the impression that Doug was a man capable of anything he put his mind to, that he could tackle and overcome any adversity. He hadn’t intended to pass judgement, but still wasn’t completely convinced that anyone could make something out of such a desolate place. It all seemed so barren and isolated.

  Doug turned his attention back to his audience and continued to tell his story. Billy tuned out of the conversation and was preoccupied with the possibility that people could eke out an existence in such a place. He couldn’t fathom how anything could survive in the desert, let alone flourish. He looked at the layer of red dust on his sneakers. They had been in pristine condition a day ago, white and shining. He had only bought them a few days before that. Now they seemed to have merged into their new surroundings. He wondered if he was capable of achieving the same transformation.

  A sudden gust of wind rose and turned into something more intense. The dust in the main street was whipped up into mini tornadoes which began dancing up and down the road. The sudden, alarming drop in air pressure was palpable. The oppressive heat waned.

  Billy stepped into the street and walked to the middle of the road. Turning back he could make out an undulating mountain range rising up behind the general store. Beyond the hills black storm clouds were forming. They were gigantic and seemed to be growing steadily in altitude and breadth before his eyes. He stood in awe. He had never experienced such a swift change in the weather. Looking at the looming clouds he felt incredibly small and exposed, like a scared boy on his first day at school.

  The street around him was a sudden hive of activity. People ran around, some hurriedly getting into nearby vehicles. Gone was the calm, friendly atmosphere of a moment ago, to be replaced by a scene of mild panic. Clearly everyone was expecting a ferocious storm and getting out while there was still time.

  In the middle of the street one figure stood absolutely still, his eyes focused on Billy. In an instant Billy felt isolated and detached from the bustle around him. He stood rooted to the spot with the chocolate bar slowly melting in his hand. It felt odd being so static with everyone else running around them. No one seemed aware of them. They stood motionless, staring at each other. He envisioned himself in an old cowboy movie, standing on a wind-swept main street and waiting for the opposition to draw his pistol. Only the figure wasn’t carrying a pistol. He was leaning nonchalantly on a short club. The night before Billy had only seen Pidgin in the semi-darkness. It was a surprise to now see him in the broad light of day. He didn’t seem out of place at all, just another person on the main street, except that he was standing stock still. He was dressed as Billy had remembered him, his cloak billowing with every wind gust. It was almost as if they had been transported from their first meeting and dumped into new surroundings. A large cloud of dust swirled down the street past Billy and continued on towards Pidgin. It obscured Billy’s view of him and he squinted through the fine particles, trying to see him. Billy choked on a mouthful of dust and coughed loudly, trying to clear his throat. By the time he had recovered the dust had cleared and Pidgin had vanished.

  Billy snapped back into motion. He looked around, trying to see if Pidgin was amongst the other people. Through the chaos and dust it was difficult to see anything clearly. Pidgin was nowhere to be seen. Billy felt a tap on his shoulder and wheeled around. It was Rob.

  ‘You gonna eat that?’

  ‘Huh?’

  Rob indicated the chocolate bar. Its contents had melted and were oozing out of the wrapper and over Billy’s hand. He looked down at it for a moment, peeled back the wrapper and wolfed down what was left of the contents. He licked the wrapper, scrunched it into a ball and stuffed it in his pocket. He wiped his hand down the leg of his jeans and looked up at Rob.

  ‘Breakfast,’ he said.

  ‘Uh-huh. Hey mate, we’re heading into town. You wanna come with us?’

  ‘Town?’

  ‘Alice Springs, mate.’

  Billy was caught off guard. He was still trying to take in what he had just seen. He wrinkled his forehead and tried to process Rob’s offer. With all the activity, he sensed that if he didn’t take Rob up on it he would be left alone in the town. Everyone seemed to be clearing out. Up to this point he had let outside events guide his movements. He decided that the approach had worked well. It was probably best just to go with the flow and follow whatever opportunities arose. Anyway, there weren’t many alternatives. It also dawned on him that he still needed to tackle the problem of his wedding.

  ‘Ok, great. That would be really cool. Need to get to a phone and call my girlfriend.’

  ‘I knew it,’ Rob beamed with a satisfied grin. ‘Girl trouble. Well c’mon then. The car’s over here.’

  Billy followed him down the street and around a corner. The Ford was parked under a tree which offered some welcome but scant shade. In the daylight the car stood out in stark contrast to its surroundings. Inexpertly painted bright, canary yellow it had rusted fringes. The sections that weren’t in the shade glinted in the intense sunlight, and before he even laid a hand on it he knew the bodywork would be extremely hot. Billy recalled the previous night and braced himself for a struggle with the rear door. There was the added complication of trying not to burn himself on the door handle. To his surprise he was relatively successful. He expeditiously snatched at the handle and wrenched the door open in one fluid movement. He slid into the back seat and slammed the door behind him. He made a mental note to take the same decisive approach next time. He wasn’t prepared to let something as insignificant as a car door slow him down.

  Tex sat up front in the passenger’s seat. Billy wondered if he ever sat anywhere else. He mused that the shape of his arse was probably permanently imprinted in the bench seat. Rob slid into the driver’s seat. He turned the ignition and gunned the engine, gently eased the large vehicle out from under the tree, and turned onto the now-deserted main street. Heading past a few houses he drove to the outskirts of town. Billy attempted to wind down his window. The air was stifling in the vehicle. Air conditioning apparently wasn’t one of the car’s endearing features. The winder didn’t move easily and the whole mechanism felt clogged with desert sand. He could feel it grinding as he tried to coax the handle. He tentatively put his full weight behind it and mercifully it yielded. The breeze that blew in through the window, although hot, was a welcome relief.

  The main street swiftly expanded into a wide, dirt road lined with small trees. Billy turned to look out the rear window and watched as the town slipped from view behind the trees. An ever increasing cloud of dust rose behind them, eventually concealing everything in their wake. Billy’s last glimpse of the town was of it shrinking beneath the imposing, blackening sky and being enveloped in a blanket of red dust.

  4

  Emu Field, 1957

  My family and I had been travelling for more than one cycle of seasons, since before the dingo pups were born. We had set out from Bonyboninnya and headed towards where the sun sets. At the time I did not agree with my fellow tribesmen regarding living off the invaders food and drink. I could see that they were giving up their traditional ways too easily and I didn’t want to be a part of that. The decision to leave my totem home came when my tribesmen had speared and killed a bullock. I could understand the temptation to do this as the meat from a cow could nourish the entire tribe for a few days. Because the invaders had brought in their own animals our usual food sources were depleted, or had been forced away. Although it was an act of desperation I could not condone it. I also feared reprisals from the stockmen. In the past some of our men had been taken away to answer for what they had done. Many of them had never returned. I feared for the safety of myself and my family and was certain that we would find good hunting if we moved to other lands. So I decided to head further out into the desert and away from the influence of the invaders.

  Upon arriving at Tepata I saw hunting fires towards the setting sun. Not knowing who these people were
and not wanting to take the risk that they were hostile, I decided to follow the water lines towards the soak at Ooldea. I was hoping to find some of my relatives there. Ooldea was also the place where I had met and married my wife. In the past it had offered sanctuary. I hoped we could at least replenish our water and maybe get some food there before continuing our journey.

  At some point we passed through a strange area. There were no signs of life, no ground animals and no birds. There was an odd silence which was unfamiliar to me. Before entering the area my wife had been able to find some honey ants and that had kept us going, along with the goanna I had speared a few days before. I continued to search for water. Unfortunately, the soak I had expected to find had been disguised by the shifting sands. As a boy my father had taught me all the names and positions of the rockholes and soaks. I also have them carved into my spears. For some reason the landscape I knew here as a young man had changed beyond recognition. It distressed me that my knowledge in this area was now of no use.

  We then came to a place where the trees were no longer pointing towards the sky but were bent to the ground. They lay flattened, as if a giant wind had swept them over in its path. The earth under our feet was also odd. It was almost as if the sand itself had been ground to the fineness of ochre. It was black and slightly oily. There was also a peculiar smell, not unlike the odour of a dead kangaroo. It hung in the air. Even the stiff breeze that was blowing at the time could not diminish it. It was so strong that it bit into my nostrils when I inhaled. I found some rabbits and they were very easy to kill. They were crawling around aimlessly, unable to find their burrows. They seemed to have been struck blind. After some thought we decided against eating them. It was better that we go hungry than risk suffering from the same thing which ailed the rabbits. The sun began to set and we decided to camp for the night. We dared not move further in the darkness for fear of what else we would encounter.