During the night my familiar, Pidgin, appeared before me. He was silent but his very presence signalled that some form of danger was approaching. I wish now that I had heeded his warning and been more attentive.
The following morning we continued on through the trees and came upon a large clearing. At its centre was a raised mound in the form of a low, flat-topped hill. This hill was unfamiliar to me and I was sure it hadn’t previously been there. I feared for the safety of my wife, daughter and son and so left them by the trees and ventured out into the open alone. I climbed the steep sides of the hill and stood on top. It was taller than the height of one man. To my surprise I found myself on the edge of a perfectly circular rockhole. It was as wide as twenty men laid out head to toe. It was full of water and very deep. This was extremely odd. The only water I had known of in this part of the desert was beneath the ground. The soaks were hard to find and often you would have to dig very deep. There had been substantial rain over the past season but usually the desert sands quickly absorbed it. I took a closer look at the edge of the lake. It was solid and shone in the sun. It was also very smooth and had the appearance of the invaders’ drink containers. They called them bottles and I knew that the material they were made from was called glass. I took a long drink of the water but it didn’t taste so good, so I decided not to let my wife and children drink it.
At that moment I heard a noise in the distance. Coming out of the trees in the opposite direction from which we had arrived was a small group of figures draped entirely in white. Even their heads were covered and they wore something on their faces. I was very much afraid and thought they were bad spirits. Nevertheless, I prepare to defend myself with my spear. Then one of them called out to me. He was talking to me in the invaders’ language and from what I could understand it seemed he wanted me to go with them. With some hesitation I went to them, and on closer inspection I realised they were men and not of the spirit world at all. I had the feeling that they were as surprised to see me as I was to see them. I made them understand that I was not alone. They followed me and together we went to get my family.
They put us in one of their machines and transported us to their village. I had seen their machines before but had never been in one. We were all crammed together in the back of this apparatus. When it took off it felt as if I was being launch through the air and down a steep hill. I felt my stomach rise to my throat. I was petrified, as were my wife and children. They all began crying. It took all my courage to maintain my own composure and show that I was strong for them. The fear inside me was so great I felt I would die. I had never travelled at such a high speed. It was if we flew through the air like an eagle.
Before long we were all violently ill, my wife and son in particular. Thankfully, because of this, the men stopped the machine. They let us get out and gave us time to recover. I saw the fear in my daughter’s eyes but also the desire to escape. For the first time I realised how much we had in common. She is blessed with my fortitude. Wordlessly I made her understand that now was not the time to escape. My wife and son were too sick. Before very long the men wanted us to continue. They forced us back into the machine even though we made it clear we did not want to go. This sequence of events repeated itself several times until we reached our destination. By this time we were all very weak. I was greatly relieved as neither I nor my family had any intention of spending one moment longer in their contraption.
At the village the men separated us. They washed me with water. We never use water to wash. It is too precious a commodity. We only use smoke. They also scrubbed me with a foaming substance. It tasted terrible and stung my eyes. I found it all very humiliating. They washed me many times, five in all, until my skin was raw. Each time they passed a machine over me that clicked loudly. They only stopped washing me when the clicking ceased.
My wife in particular was very afraid. She is not permitted to bathe with strangers. The penalties for doing this are severe. She told me that she saw another woman like her while they were bathing her. The men assured me that this was not so. They told me that in fact she had seen her own reflection in a thing called a mirror. Later I tried explaining this to her but she was not convinced. I didn’t completely understand it myself. The only time I have seen my reflection is in a pool of water, and to my knowledge water does not adhere to walls. Eventually, because of her stern protests, they decided to respect her wishes and she was not washed as I was.
I was further concerned for her once they had told me that we had interfered with a white man’s ceremony. In my culture a women is not allowed to see the business of men and if she does the punishment can be death. However, they convinced me that she would not be punished and we would be safe as long as we never again travelled through that area.
After a few days they took us in their terrible machines to another village of theirs called Yalata. It took a great deal of time to reach there. However our ordeal was not over. The first thing they did was shoot my dogs. I cannot begin to explain the rage I felt when they did this. After that they prevented us from leaving. On one occasion they inserted some very small spears in me and took away some of my blood.
One or two seasons passed and I longed to see my homeland again. A sadness completely took over me. Still they would not let us go. Gradually I became very ill. Things grew on my skin and I began to lose my sight. I now fear that I do not have much time left in this world. I miss my wife and children. They no longer let me see them. I hope that the time will soon come when at the very least my spirit can go home. I no longer wish to be a prisoner of the invader.
5
Alice Springs
The Dealer
They had been cruising along the highway for about half an hour when Rob abruptly jumped on the brakes and brought the car to a virtual standstill. They were all catapulted forward out of their seats. Billy managed to brace himself on the front seat and barely avoided being launched into the windscreen. Tex slapped both hands on the dashboard to prevent himself from suffering the same fate.
‘Whoa!’
‘Sorry, nearly missed the turnoff.’
He pulled off the main road and onto an unmarked side road.
‘Just got to pick someth’n up.’
‘Um, ok.’
Billy realised it was in his own best interests to seriously take into account Rob’s erratic driving. He searched for a seatbelt without success. Looking around the backseat the only thing that seemed to offer a secure anchor was the armrest on the door. He took hold of it with a firm grip and kept an eye on the road ahead. The storm clouds still hung in the sky in front of them. They had remained static for some time. It was as if the mountain range had stopped them in their tracks and they needed to further build up strength to breech and flow over them. As they drove down the side road and towards the clouds they grew steadily in stature.
He was intrigued by Tex’s guitar abilities and, even though he was competing with the din of the engine and the cassette player, decided to make conversation. The tape seemed to speed up and slow down, not unlike Rob’s driving. It distorted the music. Billy had encountered similar problems himself and assumed the tape had stretched after spending a good deal of its life baking on the dashboard of the car. The music was unfamiliar to Billy, an odd mix of reggae and rock. He asked Rob to turn it up.
‘Who’s this?’ Billy struggled to make himself heard over the music and roar of the engine. Rob turned down the music.
‘Coloured Stone, song called Black Boy.’
‘They’re not bad. Where are they from?’
‘Down south, ‘round Ceduna. They’ve played up here before, though. They’ve been around for a while.’
‘Ceduna? My mum was from around there, I think.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, but I don’t know much about her. She died when I was pretty young.’ ‘Sorry to hear that. Do you know where her people were from?’
‘People?’
‘Yeah, her tribe.’
/> Billy had never considered the question of his Aboriginality, let alone that he was from a tribe. His father had been a low-paid dockside labourer and they had not had a lot of contact with Aboriginal people, even though he had grown up in a town where the white population was in the minority. He could barely remember his mother and only knew that she had died after a long illness. His father had told him very little about her. It was a subject he had always avoided discussing. He did know she had Aboriginal ancestry but had no idea to what extent. He only knew that she had succumbed to cancer when she was still quite young.
‘Nope, my father brought me up and didn’t tell me much about her. He didn’t like to talk about her. Guess the memory was too painful.’
‘That’s a shame. Well, she could have come from one of a few tribes. A lot of folks got moved down to the coast during the British nuclear tests. Who knows, you could even be related to us.’
This last comment surprised Billy. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could have a wider family. His father had been a bit of a loner. They had kept to themselves and he had never had any contact with his relatives. The subject was starting to distress him. He wished he knew more. He regretted that he had not made more effort to ask his father about his heritage. He shifted the conversation.
‘So where’d you learn to play guitar, Tex?’ ‘Just picked it up.’
‘Played in any bands?’
‘Na, not really.’
Rob thumped him hard on the shoulder.
‘He’s lying to you. Played in quite a good one for a while. Doesn’t like to talk about it though.’
Billy was intrigued. ‘So who were they?’
Tex didn’t respond. After an uneasy pause Rob spoke up on his behalf. ‘Let’s just say it all got a bit serious and they wanted him to move to the big smoke, the city. He went down one time and didn’t like it. Lucky for us, I say. At least we get to enjoy his playing, eh mate?’
Tex remained noncommittal but seemed to lighten up a little and a sly grin spread across his face.
Rob slowed the car and scanned the trees at the side of the road.
‘Nearly there.’
He brought the vehicle gingerly to a stop. This time he made sure not to jolt his passengers. He then turned the car onto a narrow dirt track. Struggling with the heavy steering wheel and gunning the engine he launched the car up over a mound of sand on the verge of the road. He then skilfully manoeuvred it between the trees. Billy couldn’t even see a road and was convinced they would get bogged in the soft sand. However, clearly Rob was a capable driver in this kind of terrain. After a short journey they came to an opening in the trees. Under an enormous ghost gum was a ramshackle caravan. Its wheels had been removed and it sat on cinder blocks which were almost completely submerged in the sand. The place seemed deserted. Apart from the caravan there was very little to speak of in the immediate vicinity, except for the remnants of an open fire.
They got out of the car. Billy stood up straight and stretched. With his hands on his hips he arched his back, looking skywards. The dark storm clouds now hung directly above, holding their position. It seemed as if they were waiting patiently for a signal before unleashing their fury. Billy tried to get a sense of his surroundings but the trees and scrub blocked all views beyond the small clearing. He couldn’t even see the mountain range they had been previously driving towards. They seemed perfectly hidden. Even the caravan blended into the bush, coated as it was in a layer of dust.
Rob and Tex approached the caravan and Rob rapped his knuckles on the screen door. The inside door opened and a figure pushed the screen door aside. The interior was so dark that Billy could only make out a shadow. Rob stretched out a hand and it was heartily shaken by the figure inside. Rob motioned Billy over. Standing in the doorway was a very skinny white man, with red hair and a scraggly beard. He seemed surprised to see Billy, and a look of unease flashed across his face. Rob murmured something to him and his apprehension seemed to abate. They all stepped inside. The interior of the caravan was cramped, filled with all manner of junk. Billy could make out a small kitchen filled with dirty dishes. In what appeared to be a living room was an old couch and two reclining chairs, with a low coffee table as its centrepiece. The man stepped over the clutter and cleared some space on the well-worn couch. They all looked for somewhere to sit. Billy found a chair under a box and moved it to one side. Rob introduced the man. ‘This is Ron.’
Ron nodded at him and Billy reciprocated. He then took on the guise of a shopkeeper. ‘So what’ll it be today?’
He looked past Billy and indicated to someone that they should leave. Billy turned to see a small woman standing in the shadows. She dutifully obeyed and stepped out of the caravan. Billy heard the screen door clatter as she swept it shut behind her.
‘Just a small bag,’ said Rob.
Ron directed his attention to Billy, ‘You want someth’n?’
Billy didn’t know what that something was and shook his head.
‘Ok, no worries.’
Ron reached under the couch and produced a large Arnott’s biscuit tin. He put it on the table in front of him and pried open the lid with his fingernails. They were nicotine stained, and there was so much dirt under them that it looked as if Ron had been walking on his hands through the desert. The tin was filled to the brim with small bags of marijuana. He laid three of them in a neat row on the table. ‘Take your pick.’
Rob scooped up the centre one, stretched out one leg and fumbled in his front pocket, pulling out a crisp, twenty-dollar note. He passed it to Ron who redeposited the other bags in the tin and sealed it.
‘You guys want one on me?’
Tex and Rob nodded in acknowledgement. Billy wasn’t a regular dope smoker but had friends that were. He had the occasional smoke when out with them. Invariably this occurred when he had already had too much to drink. As a result it usually didn’t sit well with him. However, feeling decidedly sober and not wanting to offend his companions, he felt obliged to accept the offer. Ron reached around the side of the couch and produced a large Coca-Cola bottle, which had been expertly fabricated into a water pipe. It had already been prepared for the occasion, and the makeshift pipe protruding out from the bottle’s midriff was filled to the brim. He brought the mouthpiece up to his lips and lit the contents with an enormous, pink, plastic cigarette lighter. The water in the bottle gurgled loudly and he drew the smoke in deeply. He then passed the bottle across to Billy amid a grey cloud of exhaled smoke.
‘Visitors first.’
Billy took a deep breath and then let it out. He leant over the pipe and drew in a large mouthful of smoke. His eyes bulged as he tried to hold it in. He spluttered and choked. He only just managed to place the pipe on the coffee table before doubling over in an uncontrollable fit of coughing. The three other men erupted in an explosion of laughter. Billy ignored them, trying in vain to stop the coughing, and writhing painfully in his seat.
Ron pushed a dirty glass filled with tepid water across the table towards him. ‘Here, have some of this.’
Billy regained his composure somewhat and reached for the glass. He gulped down a large mouthful. Tears streamed down his face and he wiped them away with the back of his sleeve. The pipe proceeded around the group, all of them chuckling heartily. When it made its way back to Billy he refused. ‘Think I’ll be all right, thanks.’
They all smiled broadly at him. The water pipe did another circuit, after which its contents were exhausted. It then became the centrepiece on the table. All three men sank back into their seats wearing satisfied looks. It was deathly still. Billy could hear the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the dark recesses of the caravan. Apart from that he could only hear his own blood rushing past his ears. The sound grew steadily in volume. He felt uneasy and guessed the drug was doing its job. He took another slow sip of water before settling back in his chair and joining the other men in studying the table decoration.
After what seemed an eternity, Rob broke the
silence. ‘Think we’re gonna make a move.’
Ron nodded. ‘I’ll see you out.’
They all stood up simultaneously and waited for Billy, who was slow to react. He was firmly ensconced in his chair and had trouble getting to his feet. When he had raised himself to his full height he felt dizzy and it took him a moment to steady himself. ‘Ok, let’s go.’
Rob waited for Ron to move past him and followed him to the door. Ron kicked the screen door open and it clattered on the aluminium wall of the caravan, before swinging back and nearly hitting him in the face. Billy could hear the sound reverberating off the nearby hills. They stepped outside into the waning light. The sun had begun to set. Billy looked towards the horizon, which was painted a bright pink, graduating to a deep purple over his head. He marvelled at its beauty. He peered out into the half-light and wondered where Ron’s girlfriend could have gone, before noticing a slight figure bent over a small campfire. She looked like a child with the glow of the fire dancing over her shoulders and framing her in silhouette. He stood transfixed for a while, watching the flames. The others began bidding farewell to Ron. Rob called out to him and snapped him out of his daze. He turned reluctantly away from the fire and wandered over to the car.
‘See you ‘round,’ said Ron.
Billy severely doubted this but replied with a smile, ‘Yeah, see you ‘round.’ They all climbed into the vehicle. After a few failed attempts Rob succeeded in starting the car. He revved the engine vigorously to make sure it would keep running. ‘Think I need to get her tuned.’
He slowly turned the vehicle around in the small clearing. They all waved at Ron and Billy’s gaze settled on the fire. It mesmerised him once again. Peering through his window he followed its light. He turned in his seat to get a better look through the rear window as they pulled away from the clearing. A large hump in the road sent him crashing into the side door. He gently rubbed his shoulder. It reminded him of his secret oath to remain vigilant whilst in Rob’s car. The back seat was almost becoming a second home. He seemed to have spent more time there than anywhere else. He had gradually made more room for his feet after systematically shifting most of the rubbish to the opposing floor well. He stretched out his legs and settled back into his seat. Looking skywards through his window he noted that there were no stars yet where the sky was clear. The storm clouds were still blocking a great deal of his view of the heavens. He wondered if they would ever break or if the clouds would just clear without bringing any welcome moisture. The smoke had slowed his senses and he chose to be blissfully unaware of the conversation going on in the front seat. A smile spread across his face and then quickly melted as the car leapt over another particularly large mound. It lifted him completely up off his seat and he banged his forehead against an unpadded part of the ceiling. He cursed and rubbed the pain away with the palm of one hand, while gripping the armrest tightly with the other. Much to his relief it was the last bump before they turned back onto the relatively smooth main dirt road.
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