“What you are doing, boy?” the angry old woman pounded the window with her fist, a young, heavily built black man standing off to the side, waiting for Ryan to give the wrong answer.
“Werte, yaya. Mwerre apmere,” he faltered in his hastily learned Arrernte language, hoping that by saying “Hello, big sister,” he wasn’t insulting her and that “Good country,” was an appropriate greeting. He’d practiced on the plane, given up and then practiced again to try and perfect the inflections.
He couldn’t explain why it was so important that they accept him. The whole situation of being rejected by his own company hurt his pride and confidence more than he wanted to admit to Derek, his staff or even his parents.
Faced with an angry woman and suspicious young man, he finished what he had to say and then waited for her to react, smiling broadly, trying to gain her trust, build a rapport before she had a chance to turn him away.
He needed this woman and her family to give him the greatest gift of allowing him help them. Walking away from Softli didn’t mean walking away from all the benefits technology could bring to the world. He needed to find himself, create a new purpose.
It wasn’t her own dialect, but she appreciated the effort the blonde stranger had gone to learn it. She waited a moment after he finished speaking. In her experience, most strangers came into town with their smooth ways and fast talking – only to leave heartbreak and broken promises behind. This young man differed. Less to say and with less haste. As she waited for him to say something else, her face softened meeting his smile with one of her own, opening the car door for him.
“It’s okay, Coen,” at her direction, her grandson relaxed, backing off enough to welcome the stranger but still close enough in case she needed him.
“You lost or thirsty?”
“If you know anyone who likes fresh bread, I’d like to talk to you about an idea I have,” he pulled out the box of fresh food from the back. She smiled as Coen moved faster than normal to quickly take it off the man he could change his mind.
“I’ll put the kettle on. A sandwich always tastes better with a cup of tea, don’t you think mister …”
“Swan, Ryan Swan. I’ve travelled a long way to say, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A Common Language
“Let me lay it out, you want to listen to me talk, in my own language. You want me to sing songs, tell my stories and your machine will listen to me, learn and then turn it into lessons for kids to listen to online?” Maali pushed back in her recliner chair, closing her eyes and waiting for the young man to continue.
“Essentially, yes.” She waited for him to keep going, but unlike most young people, this Ryan Swan had few words. He sat, patiently and quietly waiting for her to ask more questions, commit to a decision.
Rather than watch him looking at her, she kept her eyes closed and relaxed. Forcing him to keep the conversation going if he wanted to.
Minutes passed before she heard him bustle in the seat, then walk towards the kitchen. Resisting the urge to follow him or look, her ears pricked for sounds to that would tell her what he was doing.
Tap turned on … perhaps another cup of tea. What a polite young man. A slight thud, thud, thud. What could he be chopping? The squeaky cupboard doors opening and closing until she heard the scraping sound of a plate being removed from its stack.
Whatever he had planned, she didn’t have to lift a finger, and after all these years of worrying about and looking after others, even one hour of sitting back and doing nothing was … bliss.
“Gran, gran!” Coen shook her awake. The house had grown dark and she automatically pulled her crocheted blanket around her thin shoulders. “Your tea is cold.”
“Who, what,” she woke from a wonderful dream. Her sister and mother had been teaching her how to mold a pottery serving bowl. Long strokes smoothing the clay into the precise shape and size. Urging her to join them.
Now they were gone, and she was awake. The dreams were becoming more vivid, more frequent. She needed to pass on the old ways before she, too, passed.
“Where is he?” she looked around the room, empty other than her handsome grandson, a fruit platter and cooling cup of tea.
“That guy? He left. Said he needed to go out and count the stars.”
“Whatever for?”
“To give you time to think,” Coen chuckled.
She must be still asleep, “He did what?”
“I’ll hand it to him, I’ve never seen anyone leave you speechless before.”
“You’d better call your sister,” Maali mumbled, taking a bite out of a luscious, ripe strawberry.
“Gran called,” Birrani woke Ellin with a cup of fresh coffee cooked in the embers of the night’s fire. He knew better than to face his sister before her dose of caffeine.
“Is she okay?” Ellin sat up with a start, “Have her sugar levels gone haywire again?”
“Chill, she’s fine. Some guy arrived because of your interview. She wants us to meet him.”
She shook her head, “I didn’t talk to anyone who was serious – who is he?”
“Dunno – gran said he just turned up and she wants us back.”
“What does he want?”
“Sis, how about we go and find out.”
“Who turns up in the middle of nowhere without talking to us first?”
Birrani smiled, “You are clueless – clearly he saw you and, pow.”
Ellin threw her quickly emptied cup at him, “Idiot. Let’s go home.”
“Thought you’d never ask,” she helped him roll up their sleeping bags and throw their gear in the back of his car. “I wonder how much it will cost us.”
“One look at our house and he’s got to realize we have nothing to offer but dirt and sun,” he laughed. “Who ever he is, he’s come a long way so how about you put your cynicism on hold.’
“Shut up and drive,” her smile took the sting out of her words.
Ryan rolled from under his hootchi, staring up at the morning sky. Last night he had lain awake, “counting the stars,” or at least allowing the awe of the magnificent night sky fill him with peace. Without the blare of city lights, the sky appeared darker, the stars brighter, he felt smaller and so did his problems.
He built a company from an idea into something that had now given him the money to do anything – start anything. Every part of him ached to contribute to Softli’s future success, but after meeting Maali, his legacy deserved to be more than a company. It would take a lot of work, and time, but he knew he could design a program to capture a single language – and then use the same program for other languages and other cultures.
His contribution to society would be longer lasting that a company and some code. In one hundred years, languages would still be learned and spoken because of what he and this family did over the next few weeks.
The canny old woman wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Closing her eyes, making him feel uncomfortable and forced to do or say something. Rather than sit there like a fool, he got up, prepared her a platter of the fresh fruit from his box, made her a cup of tea and set them beside the by then sleeping woman.
The grandson, Coen, stopped him as the old ute spluttered to life, “Gran scared you off - given up already?”
“Nah, just off to count the stars,” leaving the boy wondering. Except that’s exactly what he did.
He wanted to get a feel for the outback, so drove out of town, found a lonely tree and set up a hootchie he kept from his childhood. Back then, the small canvas shelter was his perfect companion on long bush walks in the mountains. Living in the city and working stupid hours, he had forgotten the peace of getting away.
The cool night air invigorated him, and the stars inspired him. For the first time since Softli became a corporate money-making machine instead of his baby, Ryan relaxed into the deepest sleep in months, unwilling to bring his city stress to this beautiful country.
A chorus of birds singing gently eased him awak
e. No hurry just because it was daybreak.
He took his time, making a camp coffee and going over his rough designs, editing some of the wire frames and trying to work out how to explain the complex coding to non-technical people.
“Ahh,” he threw out the dregs from the bottom of his cup, needing to rinse his mouth of the bitter grounds. Time to return back to town, to Maali and continue their conversation. He smiled, hoping she would have decent coffee.
“So, where is he?” Ellin demanded, throwing her swag in the corner and helping herself to the pot of freshly brewed tea. “Ahh, this smells good. Is there anything to eat?”
“He’ll be back,” her grandmother said before adding, “You know where the kitchen is, help yourself.”
“Who is he and how did he find us? OMG! Fresh bread!”
“El, you should have heard him,” Coen said, jumping up to the window as the ute approached, “He tried to speak Arrernte to gran and then when we scared him, he gave us a box of food.”
“That’s random,” Ellin smeared peanut butter over the fresh bread. “I’m not knocking back the bread, ohhh, I’ve missed this. Where did he come from?”
“All good questions, my girl, and best asked of the man himself now he’s here. You asked for help, well he is offering it.”
“But, why?”
“Girl, patience. Ask the questions and listen. For a white-fella, he might surprise you.”
The four of them watched the blonde man slowly get out of the ute, look around before attempting to brush the red dust from his clothes. He lugged a hard covered, black suitcase from the back and a shoulder strapped laptop bag.
Ellin wanted to treat this stranger with suspicion, grill him on his motives for being here. Instead, there was something about his eyes and smile that instantly convinced her that she had known him for a thousand years. A gentleness, a kindness. As he walked towards the house, she was first to open the door, wanting to be the one to welcome him to her home.
“El, don’t rush the man,” Birrani warned.
“I’m not, can’t I greet our guest.”
“Now, boys,” Maali coaxed, “Take me into Alice to do some shopping.”
“But gran, that will take all day,” Coen moaned. “Two hours there, four hours for you to talk to everyone who hasn’t seen you in ages, and then two hours home.”
“Exactly, and by the time we return, Ellin and Ryan will have come to an agreement, or he will have left. Either way, sitting around won’t get things done any quicker. But, if he is staying, we need more supplies.”
They left out the back door as Ryan reached the front.
Ellin opened the door to the palest, green eyes. “Hello.”
Almost embarrassed by her own reaction to him, she threw her shoulders back as he stopped on the front porch, “Anwerne Mparntwe-arenye tyerrtye mapele arrenhantherre welcome-ileme apmere anwerne-kenhe-werne. Anwerne ahentye-aneme arrantherre akaltye-irremele respectem-iletyeke apmere nhenhe.”
More sure of herself when his eyes widened in panic, she smiled, “What I meant to say is, we, the people who belong to Alice Springs, welcome you to our country. We hope you will learn about, and respect our country. We, the people who belong to Alice Springs.”
Ellin never believed in love at first sight.
Until Ryan Swan took her hand and kissed it in greeting, “I’ve come a long way to learn about your country. Can I come in?”
Luminous.
Stunning.
Proud.
Graceful.
Every word failed to fully capture the essence of this young woman standing in front of him. He saw the resemblance of her grandmother’s eyes, and the squared shoulders of her brother.
Her beauty on the television screen didn’t compare to the woman standing before him. And when she greeted him in whatever language, he assumed it was Arrernte, he felt the same magic as when he watched her grandmother rock the child to sleep during the interview.
“I have a pot of tea brewed, unless you would prefer something stronger,” he raised his eyebrow as she motioned him inside.
“Um, what else do you have,” caught off guard by her beauty and easy nature. Usually the smartest man in the room, right now he couldn’t hold a sentence together, or make a decision.
“Coffee, of course!” the silken laugh as she struggled to separate the old, metal percolator.
“Let me,” and within moments they were silently working together to make coffee and sandwiches. Handing each other bread and butter knives, without words, knowing when the other was ready for the milk or butter from the refrigerator.
Her hands were soft, the color of milk chocolate with short, manicured but unpolished nails. She padded around in bare feet with the red dust from the outback still sprinkled over the back of her pants where she must have been sitting. Elegant and comfortable in her own skin. Refreshingly the opposite of the high maintenance women who had been throwing themselves at him in recent months.
He guessed she was still sizing him up and let her do her own assessment of him while they prepared the drinks and food. Not enough for the grandmother or brother, he noted. Perhaps the decision was up to Ellin?
Only when he sat opposite her on the front verandah did they start talking.
“What have you got to offer us, Mr Swan.”
“Some ideas about how to record your grandmother’s language and turn it into something that anyone can learn.”
He tried not to flinch under her unnerving gaze. If only she wasn’t so damn stunning – not only in her looks but the essence of pure goodness.
“Why. I mean, why us and why now?”
“I saw the interview you did on that breakfast tv show.”
“So what. Most people reached out by phone or email. You didn’t call or contact the show.”
“That’s easy, the song your grandmother sang while the baby lay in her arms. I had the deep need for that baby to grow up and sing the same songs in the same language to her own grandchild.”
He struck a chord, her face softened, “Merindah. Her name is Merindah.”
“That’s a beautiful name, how old is she?”
“It means, ‘beautiful’, and she is four months old. You’re avoiding my question. Why us and why now?”
“I couldn’t get the vision of your grandmother out of my head,” he couldn’t even to begin to explain how much Ellin affected him, far better to focus on her grandmother’s impact. “As it I don’t know what possessed me, but I took some leave from my work, jumped on a plane and here I am.”
“Just like that?”
“Well, I finished a major project and they encouraged me to take some leave. I’m not someone who likes to have nothing to do, so coming out here seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Suddenly, he knew it to be the most important conversation of his life. More important that pitching to his board, with more at stake than closing a deal with a major customer.
“Look, this is a leap of faith for both of us. How about you hear me out, watch me work for a couple of days and see if it is something you and your family want.”
He wanted to help this woman and hopefully, one day she would feel as strongly about him, as his initial reaction was to her.
Of all the women who had thrown themselves at him since he became a billionaire, it was a slight, Koori princess in a ramshackle house that stole his heart. She didn’t even know it.
“Then, Mr Swan, welcome to country.”
Language of Love
Maali groaned, getting out of the comfy old chair got harder every day. Her knees weren’t as young as they used to be and, to be honest, the size of her butt wasn’t as easy to shift as she might like.
“Are you two right here if I make us some lunch?” She didn’t bother waiting for an answer, Ryan and Ellin were in their own world. Oblivious to her presence, to time and even food.
She wanted to be worried about her grand-daughter. Ellin had always been her hope for the future, a creat
ive, smart and vivacious girl who was growing into an honorable and kind woman. None of the heartbreak turned her heart cold, in fact her warmth and empathy humbled Maali at times.
In equal measures, she wanted to protect her granddaughter from the world’s evils, but also have her fly free and be the person she deserved to be and find happiness with one who valued the essence of her.
Her old eyes saw the closeness growing between Ellin and this Ryan character. Even when Ellin pushed him away, went off on her own for hours, Maali had seen it all before. Ellin wasn’t some youngster to run off and have a relationship based on passion. No, Ellin was struggling with the slow burn of friendship and desire. Whenever her feelings became overwhelming, even scary, Maali watched her walk away, only to come back to his side, again.
No, her granddaughter was falling in love, and even if Maali wanted to, she couldn’t stop her.
This Ryan seemed like a good man, even though there was something about him that didn’t ring true. A man doesn’t travel half way across the country because of an interview on breakfast tv – but he did. No one takes a break from a job to camp under a hootchie and work for free – yet it took Ryan almost a week to agree to move into one of the spare rooms. He didn’t want to impose! Even then, he would only agree to bunk in an old storeroom off Ellin’s art studio where they had set up to work on the program he was building.
It came down to the patience he had with both her and Ellin. Never getting frustrated when his laptop wasn’t working the way he wanted it to, or when another coughing fit ruined take after take of recordings. When Ellin needed to go off, he was there waiting for her, ready to commence as if the hours had been mere seconds.
Then, there was the way he looked at Ellin.
A tenderness hid a fierce protectiveness which was on full display when Paulie rang to pressure Ellin to return to the city.
“Paulie, I can’t. That guy I told you about is here and we’re spending the next month recording all of gran’s songs and dreamtime stories. He wants to capture the most frequent words, then he can calibrate the machine to start teaching itself.”
A Billion Reasons Why_Billionaire romance Page 4