by Jane Tara
“I see.”
Michi eyed him with defiance. “No, you don’t. You look around this city and all you have are the memories you’ve made here. I look around and have nothing but reminders of a city that made me miserable, reminders of how self-absorbed my parents were.”
“Were they that bad?” Jake asked quietly. “They’ve been so kind to me.”
“Of course they have. As people they’re warm and welcoming. As parents, they failed to protect me.” Michi finished her drink. “Probably best you take me home.”
*
Jake pulled up outside Keith and Kayoko’s house. The drive had been silent. He put the old car into park and turned to her.
“I’ve been invited to your parents’ New Year’s party on the boat. But I don’t have to come.”
“I don’t have a problem if you’re there.” She did, but she’d never admit it.
“I apologize if I stepped over a line with you today.”
“This isn’t about you, Jake. It’s about me and this place.”
“What if spending time with me could change that?”
Michi raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t mean it like that,” Jake said sheepishly. “The thing is I love this place. Not just Sydney but the whole bloody country. Let me share that with you.”
“In a week? The whole of Australia?”
“Not the whole country. Let me share a little bit. And maybe then you’ll go back home to London with some fond memories.”
“I’m not interested in a fling.”
“We won’t have one. Let’s hang out together, as friends. It’s less complicated anyway.”
Michi thought about this for a moment. The idea was appealing. When he wasn’t flirting with her, she enjoyed Jake’s company. And hanging out with him would get her out of the house.
“Okay, why not. Show me your Australia.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up at six in the morning. Pack for an overnight road trip. Nothing fancy.”
Michi baulked. “I thought you meant you’d take me … I don’t know, to the zoo or something.”
“You want to see animals, I’ll show you animals. You’re not backing out now, are you?”
Michi quite liked the idea of a couple of days away. Her parents were already doing her head in. “I’ll see you at six.” She swung herself out of the car. “By the way, Jake, when you apologized to me before, thank you for saying sorry you kissed me.”
Jake reached over to the door. “I apologized for crossing a line. I’m not sorry for kissing you.” He slammed the door shut and backed out of the driveway.
*
Jake pulled up right on six. He was evidently a stickler for punctuality, thought Michi. And she approved. She’d been raised by people who figured nothing started until they arrived, so punctuality was a foreign concept. Michi herself was one of those rare members of her generation who wore a watch.
She allowed Jake to carry her bag to the car, although she did protest all the way, and then she pretended she didn’t see her parents, who were standing on their bedroom balcony waving them off. A few minutes later they were on the Pacific Highway heading north, away from the city.
“There’s a map next to you I’ve marked the route on,” Jake said.
Michi was impressed. He’d marked this one up for her benefit. His other maps weren’t marked.
Michi read the map for a moment. “Oh … we’re heading south?”
“The map’s upside down.”
Michi turned the map around. “I knew that.” She studied it for a few minutes and then neatly folded it back up. “Excellent. I’ve never heard of the place we’re going, but I’ve got my bearings. Thank you.”
“No problem.” They were at a red light so Jake quickly set up his iPod and the car filled with music.
“Do we need to stop for supplies?”
“I’ve got everything,” Jake said.
“I’ll give you some money.”
“No need.”
Michi’s eyes flashed angrily. “I’m paying my own way.”
“Okay, settle down. You can put some petrol in at some stage.”
That appeased her. “Thank you.”
They turned right at Wahroonga onto the freeway and merged with the traffic.
“It’s less than an hour from here,” Jake said.
“Why’d you pick me up so early then?”
“We needed to get on here before the holiday traffic. By nine it’s nuts.” He concentrated while he overtook one of the mammoth trucks that ruled the Australian roads. “Besides, where we’re going, you’ll want a full day.”
“Fair enough.” Michi relaxed back. “Have you always enjoyed camping?”
“God, no. My parents took us on holidays to resorts in Spain. The closest I ever got to any animals were the other brats in the Kids’ Clubs.” Jake threw her a sideways glance. “I followed a girl to Australia. Phoebe’s family were big on camping.” He looked almost sad for a moment. “I got on well with her dad. He taught me how to appreciate it.”
Michi felt a stab of jealousy, which was ridiculous, she knew. “What happened to the girl?”
A shadow crossed Jake’s eyes. “Just didn’t work out, but I have this to thank her for.” He waved his arm around his 4WD. “I’ve been in Australia for three years. I love it.”
“When are you planning to go home?”
“When are you?”
“Touché.”
The further away from Sydney they got, the more relaxed they were. No surprise, but Jake was great company. He was funny, and fun, telling tall tales about his adventures, and making up weird road games.
“Number plate sentences. I’ll go first. EDB.” He pointed at the number plate of the car in front of them. “Every dog burps.”
“Nice one,” laughed Michi. “My turn. PMT …” She looked mortified.
“That one speaks for itself.”
And the two of them cracked up.
The trip flew by and suddenly they were off the freeway and heading past the villages of the Central Coast toward Bouddi National Park. Part of the road was unsealed, and Michi finally appreciated the beast that Jake called a car. She was thrown around in a similar fashion to when she was on the Wild Mouse, but hopefully without the drop at the end. Eventually, he pulled off the road, parked the beast and they jumped out.
Jake began unloading the car. “It’s a bit of a hike and we have to carry everything.”
“Isn’t there a porter?”
“It’s his day off.” He handed her a trolley. “That’s not just any trolley. It’s like the 4WD of trolleys. It handles rough terrain.”
They loaded the trolley up with supplies, hoicked some backpacks on, and last but not least Jake shoved his surfboard under his arm. Then Michi gestured for Jake to take the lead.
“After you.” She watched him walk off. “You can deal with the snakes first.”
“The first person scares the snake,” Jake called over his shoulder. “The second person gets the bite.”
“Thanks, Bear Grylls.” Michi’s eyes darted around.
It was not quite 8 am but it was already hot, and the flies were out. It was difficult to swoosh them away when your arms were loaded with supplies. Michi had to make do with blowing them away using air from her mouth. There were a couple of moments when lounging by her parents’ pool was suddenly appealing.
It took about fifteen minutes to reach the campground, but it was worth it. It was a pristine stretch of land leading right onto the beach. There was a barbecue and a toilet, and two other tents set up, but other than that, picturesque wilderness as far as the eye could see.
“What do you think?” Jake beamed at her, visibly thrilled to get back to nature.
“It’s great.” Then Michi pretended to be worried. “No yowies?” She wondered if he knew about Australia’s version of Big Foot – perhaps she could have some fun and convince him the mythical beasts were real.
“None sighted sin
ce July.”
Damn.
Jake led her over to the far corner of the campground, away from the other tents. Finally, they dumped their stuff. Jake clapped his hands together—down to work.
“Right, where’s your tent?”
“My what?”
“So, did you bring a tent?”
Michi looked confused. “Was I meant to?”
“Well, we’re camping, so yes.” Jake gave a wicked laugh. “You can share my tent.”
Michi immediately jumped into attack mode. “Listen, I’ve already told you—”
“Settle down, Michi, you’ll scare the wildlife away.” Jake tossed her a large pack. “There’s your tent.”
And with that he turned and set up his own—in what would have to be record time, thought Michi. She’d never seen anything like it. If Armageddon hit and they all had to survive in the wild, she wanted Jake on her team. Meanwhile she was still laying her tent out flat and trying to work out where the poles went.
“Want some help?” called Jake.
“No, all good thanks.”
Jake tidied up the rest of the gear, pulled out a wetsuit and stripped.
Holy mother of god, thought Michi. He’s freaking hot! He had Speedos on, but other than that she got a good look at every muscle, every golden brown ripple, and every bulge. By the time he zipped his wetsuit up, Michi was completely flustered and ready for a cold plunge herself.
“Stupid bloody tent.” She let him know she was concentrating on the tent poles.
“I’m gonna hit the waves. See you in a while.”
“Great. Enjoy.” Michi stood and watched him run down to the beach, board under his arm. “Oh. My. Gawd.”
Then she turned back to the tent. “Right, you bastard. I’m going to conquer you if it’s the last thing I do.”
*
And conquer it she did. By the time Jake returned from the beach her tent was up, she’d set up the canvas camp chairs and had the billy on for a cup of tea.
“Wow, I’m impressed.” He meant it too.
“Wasn’t that difficult,” Michi lied. She’d worked out Rubik’s cubes with more ease.
“It has a bit of a tilt to it,” Jake pointed out.
Michi waved off his concerns. “It adds character.”
She pretended to ignore him while he ripped off the wetsuit and wrapped a towel around his waist. The guy was built. If she was the type of woman who was interested in casual flings, she’d seriously consider it. But she wasn’t, so it was out of the question. Still, the barometer definitely rose each time he took off his shirt.
Jake sipped the tea Michi handed him. “I thought I’d take you on a coastal walk. There are some amazing Aboriginal sites around here.”
“Is Bouddi a local Aboriginal word?”
“It means both water breaking over rocks and heart.”
“It’s both of those.” Michi surveyed the landscape. “How do you know so much about Aboriginal history?”
Jake shrugged. “The more connected I feel to this land, the more I want to understand the Traditional Owners. For instance, we’re currently standing on Darkinjung land. You can’t connect to this place without recognizing that the Darkinjung are not only the Traditional Owners … they are this place.” He stomped his foot on the earth. “They’re this.”
Jake threw on shorts and a T-shirt. “Come on, let’s go for a hike. I want you to get a feel for the area.” He looked her up and down for a second. “Put on a hat. I don’t want you to get burned.” He tapped his own nose with one finger. “Although your freckles are gorgeous.”
*
Michi couldn’t ever remember such a glorious day. The sun beat down on them, there were insects galore, but the scenery was spectacular, with jaw-dropping ocean views, sheer cliffs, sandstone boulders and the trails through the ancient forest. Jake pointed out unusual plants, and a couple of bush turkey nests. At one point he held out his arm to stop her, and she noticed a snake slither into the bush.
“Not venomous,” he assured her.
It turned out he was also a certified bird nerd, and knew the names of many of the one hundred and fifty species of birds the area was home to.
“Some are real jetsetters,” he joked. “They fly in from New Guinea for the summer.”
But the highlight was undoubtedly the Aboriginal rock engravings and charcoal drawings. Michi stood there in awe of the ancient markings. She wanted to place her hands on them, but Jake stopped her, explaining that they needed to respect them, and not touch.
“How old do you think they are, Jake?”
“I don’t know. I’ve read that other carvings in this region are only about five thousand years old, so probably a similar age.”
“Only five thousand?” Michi couldn’t even begin to comprehend how long that was.
“Quite young, when you think that Aborigines have been living here for at least forty thousand years. Shits all over some of the historical sights you line up for in Europe.” He stared at the markings. “And still people just don’t get it.”
Michi could see that baffled him. When put like that, in this place, it baffled her too. And on some level, it shamed her. It took an Englishman to open her eyes to this. The irony was not lost on her.
Michi spoke quietly. “I feel embarrassed. I barely know anything about the people who lived here.”
“Just start at the beginning.”
“And what’s that mean, Jake?”
“Respect where you’re standing.”
*
It was beer o’clock back at the campground. Michi went for a swim to cool off, and then joined Jake in a canvas chair, with a beer in hand and an amazing view. She leaned back and let the last rays of the afternoon sun warm her face.
“What a great day.” She looked across at him. “Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
“I love the place, so I’m happy to share.”
“Do you feel this way about your own country, Jake?”
He thought about this for a moment. “Sure I do, sometimes. The last few times I’ve been back I’ve gone camping, much to my parents’ horror. And I’ve got to say, parts of Britain are truly impressive. But there’s something about this country … It’s bloody harsh, and yet it’s familiar to me.” He sighed and looked up. “I love the sky. It’s so vast. You’re very lucky to have grown up in such an open place.”
“Yeah, Mosman in the nineties was open, all right.”
“Now you sound like a Pom,” Jake laughed. “Stop whining, will you? I’m going to make you dinner.”
They had a barbecue dinner of steak and salad, followed by cupcakes and wine as the sun went down.
“I’m impressed with the feed. You’re like the king of camping, Jake.”
“King of Camping is my other nickname, right after Nature Boy.” Jake cracked open a bottle of wine and poured her a glass.
“You’ve outdone yourself. The plastic wineglass is a nice touch.”
“You like it? I put a lot of thought into it.”
“Do you take a lot of girls camping?”
Jake pulled a face. “God no.” He looked at her serious all of a sudden. “I used to go camping with Phoebe, my ex. But other than her … this is my thing, my time. If I bring someone with me I want that person to add to the experience.”
Michi gulped her wine. “That’s a lot of pressure. I hope I’ve added something.”
Jake smiled, light again. “I’ve enjoyed having a laugh at your tent-pitching skills.”
“So I’m like the camping comedy channel?”
“Yep.” He pretended to remember something. “Oh and I did like the way your bottom swayed from side to side as you walked up that hill this morning.”
Michi tossed back some more wine, horrified at the thought of him watching her bum. “That’s me, a laugh-a-minute arse swayer.”
Jake reached over and switched off the lamps. “Easier to stargaze,” he explained.
And that’s what they did.
They talked and laughed and looked at the stars until late into the night. The night sky was dazzling. At times Michi was certain she could put her hand up and pluck a star from it.
“You know, Aborigines were practicing astronomy long before the Greeks. If you look up there, you can see an emu.” Jake’s finger traced the sky.
“An emu?” Michi squinted a bit. “Nope—I can see the Southern Cross, though.”
“Its head is at the bottom left-hand corner of the Southern Cross,” Jake explained. “Then it stretches out into the galaxy.”
“An emu?”
“There’s an Aboriginal legend about a blind man who used to send his wife out to collect food. One day she didn’t return home, so he went to find her. He discovered her body. A giant emu had killed her. Anyway, the blind man speared the emu and sent it up into the Milky Way, where we can still see it tonight.”
“Unlike the blind man,” Michi said.
“Yes, I was never sure how he saw that emu.” Jake shrugged as if the answers to these things weren’t important. “There are countless ways to see things. What’s it mean to see something, anyway?”
“It means a lot to those people who get the cornea transplant.”
“I have no doubt,” said Jake. “Sight is a sense I would hate to lose. But to see, well that’s rather subjective.”
“In what way?”
“A perfect example is how this country moves me and you to see something very different in it.” Jake swiveled in his chair a bit.
“I’ve seen it differently today,” Michi admitted. “With you.”
“Perhaps truly seeing is the ability to see things through the eyes of others.”
They locked eyes. He looked like he was about to reach out for her. She certainly wanted to kiss him. Or more. She remembered the kiss at Luna Park and her body flooded with heat. A shadow crossed his impossibly handsome face, and he seemed to retreat again.
“I’m crapping on,” he said. “It’s the wine.”