Eleven Hundred Sand Dunes

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Eleven Hundred Sand Dunes Page 26

by Helena Phillips

“Sit up,” she commanded.

  Hoping he hadn’t displeased her, he turned, but the expression was warm. She was regarding him tenderly. Looking deep into him and seeing whatever it was she saw, she asked him about Bridey, wanting to know why he was anxious with her at the moment. It took time to put the thoughts together and then turn them into sentences, but there was no hurry. “She’s been constantly grumpy lately, and I’ve given her way too much to do for me. The more I try to communicate with her, the crosser she gets.”

  Homarta’s face was grim, and he felt anxious that this conversation would cause more trouble for Bridey. But she said, “That seems to be well sorted. However, we’ll see how she wakes up today.”

  “If I talk about the struggle, you won’t hurt her will you?”

  “What do you think I am Sandro, some kind of monster? If she pulls her head in and fits in with the team, she’ll get no more from me. Can’t speak for the other two though,” she added, cocking her head on one side as though she was giving this serious consideration.

  A shot of jealousy swept through him at the thought of either Torrenclar or Flagran with her. They would have him to answer to, he decided. Then, in response to the look on her face, he dropped the thought hastily. These guys were working for the Source. Important to be careful! “Once, she told me not to go weak on her, Homarta.”

  “Did she now?”

  “That was way back at the beginning, while I was being pushy. She told me she loved my strength, and that her father was a very weak man.”

  “Have you gone weak on her?”

  “I’ve been trying to be as strong as I’m able, but it doesn’t seem to be taking me in the direction I’m heading for.”

  “What are you suffering, Sandro?” His head dropped to his chest, and for a while the words were choked by emotion. She sat patient and quiet watching him closely. “Tell me,” she invited.

  Then it began to pour out. “This sand is a killer. Walking is constantly painful. By the time I’ve driven across a few sand dunes, I am shaking with tiredness, and the pain in both my leg and arm becomes unbearable. My head aches constantly. When we stop for an overnighter, I feel an extraordinary sense of gratitude. That’s before I remember camp has to be set up. By the time that’s over, I could go to bed if it had been made up. Then there’s food to be cooked and dishes. None of that has ever been an issue for me. It’s a nightmare.”

  The atmosphere between them had developed. Feeling closer now, Sandro experienced intense terror that he was about to break down with her. She did nothing. She remained quiet. Gradually the emotions settled until he was able to raise his eyes to her face. “I’m becoming a terrible baby, Homarta.”

  “I want to hold you, Sandro. But that’s not good for you, is it?”

  He shook his head. “Horrible stuff comes up when my head is in your lap.”

  “What sort of things? Sexual?”

  This was excruciating. “No. Flashes of an old woman with big breasts (he looked at her anxiously hoping he wasn’t being offensive) trying to nurse me when I didn’t want her to.” His voice had changed, and he felt about four. Refusing to be contained, tears came pouring out. This process was supposed to be helping, but it was making him way more vulnerable. He fell back on the rug and curled around himself, trying to shut it out. More than anything he needed comforting, but she wouldn’t touch him now, he was certain of that.

  “Who else is there?” she asked.

  No one. Wait. My dad. He wants me to like this woman. But she frightens me. I just want my mother. Tears streamed down his face, and he rocked himself wishing she had been there but not wanting her to see him like this. My dad is angry with me. He keeps telling me not to be a baby. But this awful woman is holding me like I’m a baby and pushing my face into her breast. On the ground, he started thrashing around and screaming out. Then he hit me. One hard slap. I stopped. She pushed my face against her, and I couldn’t breathe.

  Homarta asked him to speak it out to her. When he had formed the words, her expression was grave. She picked him up. He thrashed in her arms, but her response was loving and gentle, turning him to face out from her while cradling and rocking him until he became still. After some time had passed, he found himself turning to bury his face in her lovely warm body while she softly stroked his head. This is what he’d been wanting for weeks. He wiped his tears and snot against her. She felt very safe. He lay there and let the minutes pass. Then, there came a time when he felt the need to stretch.

  He stood up, while she remained seated. He bent to kiss her, and she held up her lips. They were warm, soft and inviting. God, this feels good.

  “Go for a walk Sandro, and then come back to me. There’s something else I want to finish.”

  His legs had stiffened, and the ache returned as he tackled the sand stretching and flexing his arm. When he turned, she was smiling so sweetly he felt compelled to flash her a huge grin. She beckoned him to sit with her again, pulling him forward until their knees were connected. His eyes opened wide, and she smiled. The vibration and warmth spread through his thighs and groin while his dick did its thing. Homarta reached over and with one thumb, gently closed his eyes.

  “Feel it Sandro. Allow yourself to take it in and enjoy without thinking.”

  When he obeyed, he discovered it was mind blowing. But, before he could let go, she broke contact. He shot her a desperate look.

  “Save it now for Bridey.” It took time to settle and allow the sensations to gradually drop away. “Tonight and tomorrow, we will stay in this place again. Tomorrow, you and I will work on the rest of your body.” That all sounded excellent.

  They stood, and he asked if she would transport him back to the camp so he didn’t have to walk.

  “Haven’t you forgotten something?” He was confused. “Your clothes, Sandro.”

  He grabbed at them pulling on his tracksuit pants and stuffing his jocks into the pocket. The rest he tucked under one arm giving the other to her. In a moment, they were standing outside the tent where Bridey was still lying. He pulled back the flap and poked in his head. She was awake.

  “How’s my girl this morning?”

  She held out her arms, and he came to straddle her hips. She slipped her beautiful warm hands onto his body and ran them down his bare waist and into his pants, over his hips where her eyes widened.

  “What have you been up to?”

  “Not much. Just had a round with Homarta.”

  “Why?” she asked, alarmed.

  “Some things to sort out. It was great. I feel terrific.” She obviously didn’t feel quite the same, but he had an idea how to cheer her up. Her hands were travelling exploring his buttocks and thighs, and the feelings flooded back. It was all he could do to hold on long enough to kiss her face and neck making his way down between her delicate breasts with their soft roses in the middle where his tongue became distracted. It was good. He rolled off her pulling her with him so she was on top, his hands on her butt. All of her felt great. From where he lay, he looked up into her face and the softness was back where it belonged. The expression made him groan and move to slip inside her. Although it seemed too quick, she was as eager as he was. Her period stopped him, but there was no holding back. Both of them exploded, and then she fell on top of him as the shudders gradually settled. He folded her close, determined not to let her go.

  ***

  Bridey

  Sandro’s affection makes tears leak from my eyes. It’s undeserved. The monster has come out in me, and the possibility of it returning is high. Part of me is scared to leave the tent. Part of me feels great. This day threatens. Sandro has drifted off to sleep, but I’m wide awake with my inner battles. And hungry. The more I stay in bed, the more the fear grows, so I push myself out of my own way, and step outside. The day is mild. Cool air caresses my cheek, but instead of returning the greeting, my focus is on Homarta who sits gazing into the distant dunes as if searching for something. Perhaps the speed and determination of my approach ar
e misinterpreted. Her look is level and challenging, and it takes considerable courage to continue. I squat down in front of her and put my arms along her thighs. It’s promising that she opens her legs to let me in. Still reserved, she waits.

  “Homarta, I’m sorry for my behaviour. Please don’t shut me out. I love you so much.”

  “Bridey, if you ever tell me to fuck off again, I’ll spank you in front of everyone.”

  Her firmness scares me. Maybe she won’t ever be the same with me again. “You didn’t used to be that...that fussed about swearing.” Her reaction is puzzling. There are many other issues that need addressing. The silence makes me wary, and my efforts to withdraw bring her knees together, trapping me.

  “It wasn’t the words, Bridey. It was the rudeness.” Tears spring into my eyes and are shaken away. When she describes it like that, it sounds terrible, but of course she’s right. “It reminded me of Elaine,” she continues. If she’d searched around for the worst possible thing she could say to me, she had discovered it. I hang my head between my arms, and she doesn’t reach out to me; just leaves me with it. “This is what you know, Bridey. You learnt it all from her. Maybe this is who you are?” My distress at hearing these words causes me to pull back to escape them, but her legs hold me there. How can she think that?

  The desperation it triggers makes home seem the only safe place remaining. My little blue house where people can’t hurt me; where every bad thought can be shut out. But it isn’t a possibility. Trapped, I stare out over the clearing, fixing my eyes on a stand of flowering bush. This place is horrible. Too much has gone wrong here. The desert’s bleak and lonely. I hate it. Then, tears roll down my face. Nothing matters. If this is the way Homarta sees me, there’s no point in anything. The tears dry up and so do my emotions. Everything inside goes cold. This feeling is familiar, and it frightens me. No one wants me. No one cares. She opens her legs to release me and climbs over me.

  Eighteen

  The Source

  Flagran hadn’t caught up this morning, which was unusual. Not once since the imperative had been laid on him had he neglected our time together, and it had become a delight for us both. He had carved out a particular groove for himself within the circle of my legs always beginning with his face tucked in against me. There, he gathered resources for the day ahead. I sought him out, and he lay back into me as my left hand fell warm across his belly while the right ran through his hair teasing it up the way I liked to see it.

  “How are you, my dear? You seem tired and out of sorts.” He was content to be held but didn’t speak, alone with his thoughts. “It’s hard for me to watch you unhappy, Flagran.”

  He grimaced. “You’re asking why I haven’t sought help, aren’t you. It’s because the need seems selfish while we’re on this journey, especially with Sandro struggling every day.”

  My hands played on his body, and he groaned towards them. Softly caressing his ear lobe between my fingers, I answered him. “Go away for a day or two. Play with some friends. Be back before we start heading into Birdsville.”

  “What are your wishes with Bridey, today, my Core?”

  “What would you like to do?”

  He rolled to stare up at the sky becoming tense despite my hand stroking his belly in circles attempting to release it. “I’d like to shut her out. I could strangle her for the way she’s been treating Sandro. And Josh is in my way when it comes to taking time off.”

  We sat with this together. “That’s your tiredness speaking,” I said at last. “Perhaps, it won’t do her any great harm to tell her you need some space. Taking Josh with you is a possibility. That’s not a request, just wondering if you might enjoy it.”

  His face lit. “Now there’s an idea. That would solve a couple of problems. Better for him not to be mixed up in this mess, and there’s fun to be had with some of the locals. It’d do him good. Too much adult stuff here.”

  “Go well, dear friend. I love you.”

  “Challenge me more. When you don’t it’s too easy for me to avoid.”

  “Before you go…” He had stood and was preparing to re-join the camp. Pulling up and returning, he submitted to being lifted onto one palm above my head where he began to spin in circles throwing off sparklers which flew into the air and fell harmless onto the sand. My hand moved in complex patterns, and his delight grew as lifting and falling away he was caught and spun once more. Drawing back my arm, I tossed high opening to catch and hold him briefly against me before throwing again towards a far sand dune. He danced along this until I sucked him into me again kissing and releasing him regrettably towards a problem he must confront before his leave.

  Making his way slowly down the hill towards the camp site, he paused to check out what was happening below. A strange sight met his eyes. Bridey was wandering aimlessly, distraught, taking little notice of direction. It reminded him of finding her on the tram when she’d run from the hospital. Her behaviour lately had been problematic. Little of the lively, bright young woman remained in his mind after these past three days. As he watched, she stumbled over nothing, and his concern grew. He stepped lower until he could take a clearer look at her face. Yes, she was definitely distraught. Something terrible had happened to her. The first thought was that Sandro had broken up with her. While it was easy to understand, this possibility distressed him greatly.

  Increasing his pace, he made his way without being seen, to their tent, where Sandro was just waking from his nap. He looked up and smiled at Flagran, content, stretching like a cat warming in the sun. There was a familiar smell. Things could not possibly be so out of whack between them that they had broken up with all the signs here looking pretty good.

  Catching his concern, Sandro lifted himself onto one elbow.

  “What’s up? Bridey? Josh? What?”

  “Hang back a bit mate while I sort something out.”

  Sandro had leapt to his feet pulling on his tracksuit pants again. Flagran pointed to the jocks hanging out of the pocket, and Sandro pulled them out with a grin and dropped them on the floor. Definitely, all was right with one half of this couple.

  Leaving him to brew coffee, Flagran returned to Bridey becoming increasingly concerned as he went. Homarta, at the car with Josh, was feigning interest as he demonstrated everything he knew about the engine. Torrenclar was nowhere to be seen. Maybe that was the problem. He caught her as she stumbled again and held his arm around her searching her face for clues.

  “What is it Bridey?”

  She stared at him, confused, trying to remember where she was going. This was Flagran. Flagran was mad at her too. “Sit down here Bridey. Sit for a while, and tell me what’s going on.” She obediently sat. When she didn’t speak, he tried to guess. “Torrenclar?” he asked. This seemed not to register. His patience was shortening, because he remembered he’d been given leave. He took her arm and shook it gently. “What is it Bridey?”

  Confused, she said, “I don’t know what you want Flagran.”

  “Shall I call Sandro over?

  “No Flagran. I’m thinking.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking that I’m just like my mother, and I hate her,” she said.

  “Why are you thinking about that?”

  “Because Homarta told me that maybe that was who I am.” Her voice and the anguish in it captured Flagran’s straying heart.

  “No. You’re not.” The simplicity of this brought back some clarity into her face.

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “But you hate me now.”

  “Do I?” Flagran was shocked, but he had indeed been thinking something, not perhaps quite so harsh, but certainly something along those lines. “You have been a proper bitch for days, but I don’t hate you.”

  “Homarta does. Torrenclar does.”

  “Whaaat!” He screwed up his face. “I don’t think so.”

  She shook her head. “You should have seen her, Flagra
n. She was so cold.”

  “But last night she was stroking your head. I don’t get it.”

  “I don’t either. I went up to her and apologised and told her I loved her and she was...I don’t know how to describe it.”

  “Bridey, I was coming to tell you I’m going away for a day or two, and I’m going to take Josh with me.”

  “I just want to go home, Flagran,” she wailed. He pulled her towards him and putting his arm across her shoulders, sat thinking. This was a job for them all to work on together.

  “Stay here! Don’t move a muscle!” She sat with her head on her arms. On his fleeting return to the camp, he was calling to Torrenclar and Homarta. They all reached Sandro at the same time.

  At this point, I joined Bridey there on the sand. She was in a terrible place and couldn’t be left alone while the others worked on a plan. I whispered softly to her, but she couldn’t hear me at first.

  Back at the camp, Flagran began to give directions. “Sandro, Bridey is with the Source. Would you take Josh now and go over some work with him? I want to take him away with me for two days to meet the indigenous mob here. Don’t want him falling too far behind.” Josh’s face lit up. “Homarta and Torrenclar, we have business to discuss.”

  The two went to their lessons, Sandro anxious for Bridey but deciding to take direction from Flagran at this moment, and the Caretakers found a distant sand dune for their conference. Flagran filled them in on his plans. Then, he gave them a visual of Bridey wandering across the desert alone. They went quiet; their silence full of trepidation.

  Bridey had become aware of me speaking with her. I held her close while she poured out her troubles asking me to take her home. “The tribunal is meeting as we speak, darling.” It was not the response she was seeking. “I think it will help your case if you attend.” Terror. There was no other way of describing it. This is what had they done to her. It was completely out of hand. “No harm can come to you there, darling, because if I attend, I will be the Chair. You will be able to put your case in safety.” Despite her fear, we joined them. She was greeted with reserve only because they feared what was before them. “Tell us, Bridey, your reasons for thinking we should get you home now.”

 

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