by A R Dent
~~~~~
Rumours flowed along the river of gossip – Yellow River was the local expression for gutless gossip and now there was a reason to talk. Yellow River became Information Highway of continuous gossip but it had a price to pay if you said the wrong thing to the wrong person. Ron arrived home to a tirade of accusations.
‘Ron, why did you tell Thelma about the cod hole for? Father Fred walked in to buy more wine after you left and Thelma went and told Father Fred about what you said of the river monsters in the low tide holes. Barramundi happens to be his favourite fish. Stop talking about barramundi holes or anything. We make our money as a service industry. Not a tourist information service. Our economy here must stay as it is. I’ve had no income since we moved here. Volunteer work keeps me sane. The next time another person comes up with a solution for this village I will scream. Fishing is what this village is about. Not prawns, fish. Every person here loves their prawns but seafood as in fish, fresh fish, is what made the big money here and always will,’ Betty said.
‘The cod hole every fisher knows about. Father Fred can’t fish. He relies on everyone else’s knowledge. Forget it Betty. We’ll survive somehow - the extra cost with Penny going to New Brunswick High has to be covered. We’re lucky she gave up that Pro Surfer thing. One win at Noosa and she thought she was unbeatable. Robin had a good talk to her thankfully. Ok, I’ll have a talk to Jack and Penny. Money is now tight. I can see a downturn in trade for a while in about three weeks and until this mystery is solved we are in for a tight run. Did you get the chicken feed that was on special? Eggs, plenty of eggs is what we can live off if need be. Business always improves after the festival. Ok, what’s for dinner? That new recipe of Robin’s? The chicken and prawn stir fry? Everyone I speak to has got hold of it. It’s the balance of the two flavours. The bowling club has it on their menu now. I think that recipe will make Null prawns more famous than our fish the Co-Op is known for,’ Ron said.
Ron finished talking with Betty and wandered into Penny’s room.
‘Penny, I need to have a chat with you. In regard family finances. I expect in about three weeks business to take a down turn. Normal stuff so don’t expect special treatment on the money thing. That’s all. Just go easy and we’ll survive until the tourist season hits. Just normal small village seasonal downturn in trade.’
‘Ok dad. Dad, before you go - remember the stories you told me to get me to sleep when we lived up Hervey Bay, before we moved to Maryborough? There was one story you told that went on and on. I usually went to sleep early in a story but that night you kept talking and I sat up and hugged my pillow all through the night and mum ended up going to sleep on the lounge waiting for you to finish - that story - what was it dad? - it was about river monsters - or was it a creek monster?’
‘Oh, that one. I didn’t make it up. My grandfather told me that one. That story has been told for thousands years. Yes, one of the great stories handed down from generation to generation. Yes, I remember that night - you hugged that pillow because it was your security blanket thing, your security pillow. That’s the story of the Bunyip. Bunyips did exist as far as I am concerned. Like the Yowie. Does it exist? Did it exist? Myth stories have their origin in things many people don’t understand or comprehend. You and I know what it’s like to feel the energy of Crab Creek. Crab Creek has an energy of its own. When things are quiet at work, I love to go down to Crab Creek and sit by the boat ramp and just take that energy in. Take the dogs down there and do it Penny.’
‘I do dad. Dad, can I tell you something? Don’t say anything, not even to mum, promise?’
‘OK, cross my heart and promise. What is it you want to share with me?’
‘Dad, I saw a Bunyip there last week.’
‘Don’t say one more word Penny. Everyone has a theory of what happened to the two fishermen. Ok, it was a story I told. It might be true about what happened a thousand years ago but bunyips don’t exist anymore Penny.’
‘Dad, I know what I saw. Even the dogs growled. They knew something was there. I couldn’t exactly see it but I could feel its energy. The dogs felt the energy too. Both dogs are psychic dad. You know that.’
‘Penny, put it this way. If there is a Bunyip there, and it’s in energy form, it’s because we know of bunyips. It’s in our minds, in our being, in our heritage. And now is not the time to go talking bunyips in this village. Next time I go down to Crab Creek, I’ll see if I feel the same energy. Are you happy with that? But don’t say a word to Jack or your mother about what you said. Thanks Penny.’
Ron left Penny and walked away with thoughts of checking the backyard for debris or wind damage. As he walked past the kitchen where Betty was preparing the evening meal Betty spoke.
‘Is Penny alright Ron? You look a bit worried.’
‘Penny is ok. She’s just trying too hard with that book thing. She will be ok in a week or two.’