Snowy Summer

by Patricia Weerakoon

  Chapter 26

  They picked up their backpacks and sauntered over to join the queue for the chairlift. Roy slipped up the hood of her jacket. ‘Zip your coat up, Sheva. The wind can be fierce on the chairlift.’

  They stood in place as instructed and were scooped up into the chairlift. ‘Place your feet on the foot-bar.’ Roy brought down the safety bar across their laps. ‘Sheva—’ Roy took her hand— ‘you’re not frightened of heights, are you? We’re on a 1.8 kilometre ride, rising 560 vertical metres above Thredbo valley.’

  ‘It’s a little late to ask me, isn’t it?’ Sheva grinned at his worried expression. ‘Don’t worry, I love it.’

  ‘In that case, let me point out some of the sights.’ Sheva looked down from the rapidly rising chairlift at the stout trees, covered with olive green to charcoal grey bark, and an occasional splash of mustard yellow. ‘There—’ he pointed down to the valley— ‘another one of your friends. That’s a gum tree called the Black Sallee.’

  Soon they were hanging at what seemed to be an impossible height and rising. The chairlift swayed on the single thick cable and juddered over the vertical support posts as it passed over each. Roy’s hand was warm on hers. Sheva felt content, lost in a half-dream state, and safe. Roy too looked happy.

  ‘You should smile more.’ She tugged at his hand.

  ‘Haven’t had much to feel smiley about recently, Sheva.’

  She laughed up at him. ‘You sound like an emoji.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Come on, Roy. An emoticon, one of those things you stick on an email or Facebook message.’

  His eyes met and held hers. ‘For a girl who has no Facebook page, Twitter account or any other presence on the web, you certainly are familiar with social media—’ he paused and stared at her lips— ‘Sheva.’

  She pulled her hand from his. ‘You checked me out.’ She slid away from him on the seat.

  The movement made the chair swing on the cable. Sheva squealed and gripped the arm of the chair.

  Roy reached for her hand. ‘Didn’t you do the same?’

  ‘No.’ She hadn’t needed to, since Dan did it for her.

  ‘Let me tell you what you would have found. Royston Broughton-Knight: society playboy turned serious businessman. Not very exciting.’

  They were nearing the end of the journey. ‘Sheva—’ Roy increased the pressure on her hand— ‘There is something bothering you. Whatever it is, I can see it scares you. Just know I am here for you when you’re ready to talk about it.’

  She nodded. He had said when and not if. It made her feel content and safe. She would tell him later today.

  The chairlift swung to the top of the run and slowed. They swung the safety bar up and jumped off the seat, allowing the empty chair to swing around and travel back down the valley.

  ‘We are at top station, Thredbo.’ Roy pointed to a building. ‘That is Australia’s highest restaurant, “Eagles Nest Café”, and there—’ he pointed to the paved path— ‘is the beginning of our walk.’

  On their right were large granite rocks beside a couple of twisted and stunted gum trees. The bark was wrinkled and contorted, magnificent in green, grey and creamy hues with streaks of reds and pink. The wind whistled and howled around them and clusters of fluffy creamy-white flowers and waxy grey-green leaves shuddered in response.

  ‘Alpine Snow Gums, last of the trees’ Roy gestured to them. ‘Only alpine vegetation like dwarf shrubs, herbs, mosses and wildflowers grow higher than this’

  The ground around them was covered in a carpet of purple, orange and white. Roy followed her eyes. ‘I’ll tell you about those once we start the walk.’

  Sheva pulled out her phone and photographed the tree and the wildflowers around them. Someday, she would look at the pictures and remember today. The colours, the emotions; all set to the background symphony of rushing wind and the soft tinkle of water in the mountain streams. She would remember the man she was with and wish they had met under different circumstances.

  Sheva ran a finger over the bark of the tree. ‘The snow gums look like contortionists, dancing to a snowy symphony only they and the wildflower can hear.’

  ‘You see wonder everywhere, don’t you? Maybe I will pick up the habit from you. Come on, time to start.’

  The first part of the track was paved and made for an easy stroll up a slight incline. Roy pointed out low heath and shrub plants growing on and around rocky outcrops and surrounded by a carpet of tussock snow grasses. Roy pointed out silvery white alpine herbfield, and the white flowers of alpine marsh marigold.

  It was a rugged country, bare and beautiful. Sheva kept lagging behind, stopping to look around.

  ‘I’d love to say we could take our time, Sheva, but we need to move on.’

  She nodded and followed him. They passed an intersection with the “Dead Horse Gap” track pointing to the left, and a little further on, a footbridge over a stream, which Roy said was called Merritts creek.

  They were now on a metal walkway, which Roy explained was built to protect the plants and bog from the heavy feet of bushwalkers. He squatted to point out tunnels and tracks under the mesh.

  ‘The home of the broad-toothed rat, a little brown fur ball with a tail. In winter months the steel walkway holds up the snow, making a nice warm home underneath it.’

  ‘Are there many other animals?’

  ‘There’s mountain pygmy possum; it’s endangered, and southern bush rat. Also, plenty of little lizards called skinks.’ He stopped and pointed to a slim shiny brown reptile that was a few centimetres long. ‘There’s my favourite, the little dusky antichinus’

  Sheva nudged him. ‘So, tell me, why is it your favourite?’

  ‘Their mating habits. The male becomes a total sex addict and once the breeding season begins, late in summer, he thinks of nothing else, and mates with every female around, until he dies of exhaustion.’ Roy smiled at her expression of shocked disbelief.

  ‘It’s true, Sheva. Don’t ask me why.’

  It was time for a change of topic, Sheva decided. She gestured to a scattered ridge of sharp crags and rocks to their left. ‘Do those rocky outcrops have a name?’

  ‘Rams Head Range; granite rocks, the end result of volcanic activity millions of years ago.’ Roy pulled out a pair of binoculars from his back pack and handed it to her. ‘Have a look.’

  Sheva stopped to look through the binoculars. ‘Wow, there are tiny trees in the cracks of the rocks!’

  Roy nodded. ‘Hardy bonsai plants that survive on the microclimate provided by the boulders. Ice, snow and sun, they don’t give up. They find life, even in the toughest environment.’

  She lowered the binoculars and looked up at Roy. ‘I can empathise with that.’

  Roy held onto her hand when she handed the binoculars back. ‘Me too, Sheva, me too.’

  They continued on along the metal walkway, her hand curled in Roy’s. Sheva, overwhelmed by the mountains, rocks and vegetation, kept gazing around, happy to let Roy lead her. They passed a sign pointing to “Kosciuszko Lookout.” Roy glanced at his watch and drew her on. ‘Sorry Sheva, can’t stop here, there’s a place I want to show you. We’ll stop on the way back.’

  She glanced at the sign by a small tinkling stream. ‘The Snowy River? This tiny watercourse?’

  Roy chuckled and pulled on her hand. ‘A small contribution to the majestic power that drives the Snowy Mountains Hydroelectric scheme. I’ll take you there someday.’

  Sheva smiled back, aware that in all likelihood there would be no someday for the two of them.

  They had been walking almost an hour when they came on a sign that read “Lake Cootapatamba Lookout”.

  ‘Come on—’ Roy grabbed her hand— ‘let’s step off the walkway and sit on those rocks over there by the lake. Hungry?’

  Seated on a flat rock,
they gazed down into the intense blue bowl of Lake Cootapatamba as Roy offered Sheva snacks from his pack. ‘This is called a cirque lake, caused by glacial activity around twenty thousand years ago.’ Roy explained.

  Sheva marvelled. It was a visual feast that she had never experienced anywhere or anytime in her life. ‘This is breath-taking, Roy. Thank you for bringing me.’

  Roy slipped his arm around her. It felt natural to rest her head on his shoulder. They were silent, surrounded by the commanding dignity of millennia-old mountains. Wildflowers were a colourful net thrown over the ground around them. Mount Kosciuszko and Etheridge loomed in front, the ageless shadow offering a blessing on their companionship.

  ‘Over there,’ he gestured to clusters of shrubs, their grey-green silvery leaves and daisy like little flowers of yellow and white, dancing in the breeze, ‘is alpine sunray. It’s said to be the flower picked on the summit in 1840 by Paul Edmund de Strzelecki – who named the mountain Kosciuszko. He pressed it and sent it to his sweetheart Adyna back in Poland. Her parents forbade them to marry. However, they remained faithful and wrote to each other for twenty-two years.’

  This was a special place to Roy and he had chosen to share it with her. She shifted closer to him. It felt comforting and right.

  She was no longer following Dan’s instructions to get closer to Roy. It was something she wanted to do. The urge scared her.

  Roy pulled off his glove, reached out and pinched the leaves of a bush with clusters of white funnel-shaped flowers with multiple purple to red coloured spots in the throat. He brought his fingers to her face.

  ‘Sniff.’

  ‘It’s minty.’

  ‘The essence is supposed to revitalise and give renewed energy— bring joy to a difficult situation.’

  She sniffed deeper. ‘I’ll take a litre.’

  ‘Me too, Sheva. Me, too.’

  The sorrow in his voice reached into her heart.

  He had secrets weighing him down, just like she did.

  Chapter 27

  What was it about this girl? He had come close to telling her all about himself and his problems. He couldn’t do that, not yet. Not without his father’s permission.

  He kept his arm around her, not wanting the moment to pass.

  ‘There’s a sound, what—’ Sheva’s question broke the spell.

  He pointed to the spongy, water-logged sphagnum moss. ‘Frogs croaking and gurgling to each other.’ He glanced up at the mountains. Heavy clouds boiled up from the west and spilled over the main range. Getting to his feet, he pulled her up. ‘Heralding a storm, probably. We need to get going if we want to reach the summit in time to see anything.’

  Side by side, their gloved fingers intertwined, they walked faster. They had crossed a point in their relationship there by Cootapatamba Lake. They were content in each other’s company. Words were unnecessary.

  They followed the path up and around the side of the hill to Rawson Pass. The last steep walk up the track spiralled around the mountain for a kilometre and a half. Sheva’s eyes were fixed on the blue green vista of rolling hills spread out around them. Every turn in the path laid out a changing panorama of awesome natural beauty.

  ‘Roy, this is mystical, other-worldly. Thank you.’

  ‘Sheva, the mountains are old as the continent. I’m afraid I can’t take credit for creating them. But I love this place too. Never grow tired of it.’

  Her eyes fixed on the distant hills, Sheva stumbled on the rough gravel track.

  ‘Watch it. A twisted ankle at the summit is not a mystical experience.’ Roy took her gloved hand in his. ‘Look—’ he pointed to a small rock pool by the side of the path— ‘if you look closely you can see the little brown fish. They’re called Galaxias.’

  ‘They look like they’re sunbathing on the rocks.’ Sheva squatted by the side of the pool to look where he pointed.

  ‘Guess they need to work on their tan.’ He pulled her to her feet. ‘We need to move on, and it’s getting windy.’

  The wind whipped in from the southwest and swirled around them as they reached the summit. Roy tightened the grip on her hand, drawing her closer to him. ‘The temperature is dropping, Sheva.’

  ‘It’s freezing.’ She leant into him and fell silent, gazing out towards the rolling, barren hills stretching to the horizon in every direction. The distant mountains were smudged with eucalyptus blue.

  He pointed at the ranges. ‘There, to the southwest, are the Victorian Alps. The pointy one is Mount Bogong and over there—’ he pointed to the nearer mountains— ‘are the mountains of the main range: Mount Townsend, Carruthers, Twynam and Muellers Peak. I’ll take you on the main range walk someday.’ He pointed to a brown ribbon winding through the valley and up the vertiginous face of the mountain. ‘You can see the path over there.’

  They stood hand in hand on the summit of Mount Kosciuszko. He followed her eyes to the cemented structure at the centre flat area. ‘That’s the summit marker, with information on the highest mountain.’

  He read in her eyes a reflection of his own feelings for the mountains, the realisation of being in a place so awesome as to be almost ethereal.

  ‘This is so raw and beautiful. It’s like being with God at creation.’ Black eyes gazed into his, inviting him deeper. ‘You really love these mountains, don’t you, Roy?’

  There were many things in his life he couldn’t share with her. But the love of this place was something he could. ‘I come here when I need to find comfort and refreshment. The grandeur and majesty of the mountains, the freshness of the wind and the raw vibrancy of the storms take me out of myself. I see my problems in perspective and leave here with a fresh boldness, an energy and courage to face whatever lies ahead.’

  ‘I can sense it too.’ Her eyes misted over. ‘I feel in-the-moment here. No worries and no to-do lists. This is how it must have been in the Garden of Eden at creation. I feel like I am in some small way a part of something eternal.’

  The wind picked up and swirled around them. Sheva turned her face into it.

  ‘Sheva, it’s getting cold. Probably dropping to near zero with wind chill. Do you want to go back?’ A gust pushed her back and blew away his words.

  With a laugh, she dropped her backpack and pushed back the hood of her coat, sending her hair whipping in the breeze. She stretched out her arms, palm forward. ‘Go back? No. I want to absorb all this and hold the memory in my heart.’

  Roy stepped in behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘Well, if you are doing a Titanic impression, we might as well complete the scene.’

  Sheva laughed and leant back into him, wrapping her hands over his.

  Her head fit against him, just above his heart. Her hair blew across his face. The strands twisted against his chest, making his heart her captive. He caught his breath and let his cheek rest on her head. He was letting this girl into his life. It wasn’t wise, but today, he didn’t care.

  ‘Roy, is this snow? In summer?’

  A gentle snow flurry blew over them.

  ‘I promised you magic didn’t I, Sheva?’ he whispered into her hair.

  She turned her face up and put out her tongue to catch a snowflake. It was a natural, sensual act. Tiny snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and desire spiked through him. He wanted this girl. But he had nothing permanent to offer her. His instinct told him she was a girl who would look for long term commitment. Marriage. Children. Things he could never offer any woman.

  A sigh tore from his throat. Sheva turned her face towards him. ‘Are you okay?’

  He pulled her tighter and dropped his lips to her neck. ‘More than okay, Sheva.’ He let his lips rest on the smooth skin under her earlobe. Her perfume tickled his senses. It brought back memories of Annie. Again, the girls blurred and mingled in his mind.

  He moved his right hand up over her body, splayed
his fingers over her face and ran his thumb over her lips. ‘Sheva, I care for you. I want to help you. Do you trust me?’

  Her lips trembled under his touch. Sheva tilted her face toward him and closed her eyes to kiss him in reply.

  Strident chatter in a language he didn’t recognise broke through the rumble of muted talk on the summit. This was followed by children’s screams, ear-splitting raucous laughter and shouts of excitement. They were surrounded with clicks of cameras and flashes of light.

  Sheva stiffened in his arms. She pulled away from him and covered her face with her hands. ‘They’re speaking Sinhalese. I have to get away from here.’

  ‘What—’

  Sheva kept her face turned away from the group. ‘They’re Sri Lankans. I—I can’t speak to them. They mustn’t see me. I can’t take the chance of someone recognising me.’

  Roy took her hand in his. ‘Okay, let’s get you out of here.’ He picked up her backpack and kept his body between her and the main group till they reached the path leading down from the summit. Sheva ran down the path. Roy kept pace with her. Soon they stood at Rawson Pass.

  ‘What was that about, Sheva?’ Roy asked, panting.

  ‘I can’t explain here.’ She turned to face him, her eyes tight with anxiety. ‘Please, I have to get away.’

  Roy slipped his gloves off and cupped her face in his hands. ‘Look at me, Sheva. You said you trusted me. Know this. I will not allow anything to happen to you.’

  Her smile was tired and tender. ‘If only it were so simple, Roy. Let’s get back to Jindabyne.’

  They walked back to Eagles Nest at a brisk pace. He sensed she didn’t want to talk, but the silence between them was companionable, not oppressive. After a while, she took off her glove and slipped her fingers into his palm. He took his glove off and wrapped his fingers around her cold ones. Whatever the demons were that had driven her to hide in Jindabyne, they would fight them together.

  Chapter 28

  Once on the chairlift, Roy slipped his arm around her. She rested her face on his shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, ‘for bringing me here, and for not pushing me to explain my bizarre behaviour up there on the summit.’