Eleven Hundred Sand Dunes

by Helena Phillips

  She lay still. During the waiting, she experienced the extent of all she had put at stake for her stubbornness. My determination that she would face herself in a way she had often avoided was uppermost in my mind while I watched her wrestle with her dread of losing me and the knowledge that she had no power at all in this moment. For me, it was a loss also. If spending time in close communion with her led her to behave in the way she had, it could not possibly work to continue those encounters.

  But, it wasn’t an option for me to hold out on her indefinitely. I squatted before her regarding her with compassion and shaking my head slowly as her tears fell. “My dear friend, how little in touch with your wisdom you can be.”

  It took considerable effort for her to pull out from her misery, and when she eventually stood with me, she was shaking. “Now you know the loss Bridey suffered yesterday. It was a gross betrayal of trust; both hers and mine.” Despite her shame, she clung to me. It was clear there were no options remaining for further events of this style.

  “The task of healing Sandro is passing to Torrenclar.” The head on my shoulder flinched. “It is not because of your behaviour but in light of their growing trust in each other. It is in Sandro’s best interests. If you could find the strength to work with Irri-tat while she travels with you that would help. This may seem like punishment I am imposing on your already beaten self, but it is not. You don’t have to do this. If you choose not to take it on, I will accept that. You may find her more enjoyable these days. She is certainly eager to learn and grow.”

  She nodded, determined to do her best. “Will we meet, Love, in the way we have been, or are you withdrawing from me?”

  “Are you able to hold Bridey as she has come to expect; to love and challenge her as she struggles with her life?”

  “If she will accept it, I will strengthen our connection.”

  “That is how I feel about mine with you. But for both of us there have been some backward steps.”

  “I cannot bear to feel distance from you, Love.”

  “We’ll make it work somehow, Homarta.”

  I kissed her then as she clung to me, covering her eyes with my lips, each in turn, seeking out her mouth until she held it up to me hungrily attempting to erase her loss. The light of the day was growing, and there were new challenges ahead. But, the chances of regaining what had been threatened were strong.

  ***

  Torrenclar went to Sandro while he brewed coffee that morning. It seemed unlikely Bridey would wake before lunchtime. “I’ve come to check on your woman, Sandro,” he said smiling. “If you don’t object, I would like to spend some time with her this morning.”

  “You’ll have to ask her, and she’s sleeping the sleep of the dead, so the answer’s no from both of us.”

  “Come now, Sandro. From you too. I’m disappointed.”

  “Well, I’m jealous.” A moment to let that sink in seemed in order, then he followed up before Torrenclar could take exception to it. “I was hoping you would spend some time with me. I know she’s your favourite but, fair’s fair.”

  One of the Caretaker’s magical smiles spread across his face, and he squatted before the fire. “Finish your coffee first.”

  “We’re nearly at Birdsville, Torrenclar. I’m wanting to turn back.”

  “Yes. That makes sense.”

  “What if he isn’t there? What if we don’t get on? What if I can’t stand him?”

  “Lots at stake.” The coffee began bubbling, and Torrenclar focussed his attention on it before commenting further. Once a mug had been poured, he continued. “You’ve become a father yourself lately.” It wasn’t difficult to see where this was coming from. Josh had been away now for only one night, and Sandro was missing him and hoping Flagran was going gentle on him and looking after him, all that made no sense.

  “How do you think I’m doing?” There wasn’t anyone else to discuss this with. Sometimes, he wondered whether he was too harsh, or distant, or too gentle. Jarrod was too quiet. How to work out the balance?

  “He is very attached to you Sandro. Why do you think that is?”

  “Maybe, he’s grateful”

  “Certainly, he’s grateful. But, he worries about you. That’s not gratitude.”

  “Is he still onto that stuff about causing the accident?”

  “Perhaps. But, that’s got nothing to do with it. When we were in Mallacoota, he was distressed watching you suffering. Tried to get us to go easy on you. Thought you were lonely, and we weren’t giving you enough support. That’s not guilt. That’s affection.”

  “Maybe I’m not doing too badly with him, then. Sometimes, I feel strict. Acting older and wiser and all that rubbish.”

  “There are no rules, Sandro. You can only love them and hope it works.” He snapped his fingers together and the blanket appeared. It was obviously time for further healing, work, struggle; all the things he hated.

  He shivered. “Did I remember to thank you for yesterday?”

  The Caretaker nodded. “You were grateful. But watching you not limping is the best result for me. It took a long time for us to get to that.”

  “I couldn’t let Homarta work on me. Some memories from Iran. I reckon she was maybe my grandmother. Terrified me.”

  “But why not ask Flagran? It’s not surprising you wouldn’t come to me, but I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t ask him.”

  “I didn’t even think of it. All the time at Mallacoota, coaching, encouraging, and pushing me. But he never offered.”

  The Caretaker shook his head refraining from comment and taking his place on the blanket in front of the fire, expectant. When Sandro offered his arm, it was ignored. Instead, he was prompted to lie back. It took courage to close his eyes when instructed. Vulnerability was still dangerous. Torrenclar touched his head with one hand. The touch was light, but the effect immediate. A dream intruded sweeping away the debris of doubt and increasing his fear exponentially.

  We are playing in a field. The sun is shining down strongly. Torrenclar is seated watching warily as I circle him, spear erect. He’s tied up and can’t move. I’m thinking about throwing the spear to see if he will cry out when it goes into him, but he’s watching, and I can’t go through with it with him looking. So, I tell him to close his eyes for a moment, and as he does, I throw the spear. He catches it mid-air. Although only a game in the dream, and I know it’s a dream, I jump on him and grab the spear breaking it in half. I order him to open his eyes giving over half the spear and keeping the pointy end for myself. He tosses this into the air and it transforms into a bird. A huge flesh eating bird. As I watch, it begins to circle us taking a sudden dive and shooting straight at me. Leaping aside, I step back to put the Caretaker between myself and the bird, then, as it goes for him, I grab it. It’s a dog. Holding it at each end, I snap its spine. Shocked at the sound of bones snapping, I glance down at the puppy which Jarrod has just given me for my birthday.

  He woke and sat up clenching his teeth to prevent him from screaming out and waking Bridey. The sweat covering him was like that first night after hospital. Torrenclar watched on. His arm was aching and the feeling of the broken puppy in his lap was strong and real. He wanted to fix it more than anything in the world, but it was dead cold. He wanted to appeal to Torrenclar, but how could it be fixed? The terrible thing had been done. Images from the dream of him putting the Caretaker between himself and the bird flashed, and he hung his head unable to face it, or him. “Was it real? Did I kill my puppy?”

  “Yes, Sandro you did.”

  “Why?” It made no sense. How could he have done such a thing?

  “You were angry with Jarrod, and you wanted to fight him. At the same time, you needed him,”

  “It’s a mess.”

  “Yes. It has been a great mess.” Torrenclar moved towards him on the blanket and took hold of his arm. The question, unasked, hung in the air.

  “No.” Despair washed over him. “You can’t fix it now. It’s not fixable.
” The dense, black grief and self-hatred grasped him in its ugly grip. “No wonder I couldn’t ask. Didn’t even think to ask.”

  Torrenclar nodded. Then he said, “It’s time Sandro. Bridey is waking. You need to move forward now before you face the reality of the man who is your biological father. Let go the shame and the grief and the hatred so you can be well.”

  It wasn’t possible. How could there ever be any good? He was a monster who would step back from his friends when they were in danger. All he knew was how to attack.

  “Give me your arm, now!” Looking down, Sandro saw it lying useless on his thigh. “Remember Josh and the accident. It was all his fault. Remember that.”

  The words were a jolt, and for the first time it made sense how the boy saw it. He closed his eyes, and Torrenclar grabbed his leg and shook it, digging his fingers into the flesh he had healed the day before. Startled, Sandro turned to him, angry but knowing he deserved it. There was no point in arguing his case. It was over.

  With what seemed like terrible timing, Bridey chose that moment to emerge from the tent. She saw immediately something wasn’t right and came to investigate. “What’s happening?”

  “Sandro is refusing to let me heal his arm.”

  Shocked, she froze. “How do you mean? That can’t be right.”

  “He would prefer to sit with his guilt and shame about what a terrible human being he is.”

  She sat on the mat in front of Sandro and crossed her legs. “If you are a terrible human being, then there’s no hope for any of us.” He stole a glance at her face. It was determined. “Either you get on with this Sandro, or the deal’s off. I can’t do this without you. I’m having enough trouble coping with my own mess. There’s absolutely no chance I’m going to tolerate you choosing to stay with yours. I’ve had enough of it.”

  Trapped, he stared at Torrenclar but received nothing. Then, he remembered the Caretaker was in love with his woman. “Don’t you get any ideas,” he growled at him.” The slow spreading smile caught him unawares.

  Homarta appeared from nowhere as Caretakers were prone to do and she joined the three on the mat. The party was growing. “Having some trouble with these two, Torrenclar?” she asked. At his grimace, she said, “The two of them have been nothing but trouble since the day we met them.”

  “No. You caused that yourself,” Bridey snapped, and Sandro glared.

  She smiled bleakly and leant forward holding out her arm and inviting Bridey to lean into her. The hesitation was fractional, but Homarta winced. Instead of insisting, she began to stroke the young woman’s back. Torrenclar reached out for Sandro, who found himself thinking what the heck. He decided to allow himself to be pulled between Torrenclar’s legs. Showers of love rained down on him, and the joy was immense. As a sideline, the arm knitted itself together.

  For a very brief moment, all was well in the world.

  Torrenclar and Homarta made plans. They must talk with Irri-tat and set some boundaries for her journey with them. This meant the couple were alone together for the afternoon. When the Caretakers had left, Sandro told Bridey about the dream. She found it hard to believe he could have killed his puppy. He had been ten when Jarrod came to live with them. Surely, at ten, he must have been past making mistakes with animals. It just didn’t make sense, but there was nothing he could do to change anything, and they agreed that only Jarrod and Gabriella could clarify it. From the middle of the desert, that wasn’t happening. The thought of them though brought to mind what was ahead in the next weeks and its possible impact on their relationship. He knew he’d always been a difficult child, but some of these discoveries made his view of himself intolerable.

  They decided to eat picking through their supplies for something appealing and lay back on the blanket in the harsh sunlight, not a bush or tree in sight. This was the most barren looking site they had chosen. All the way along there had been bushes and flowers in abundance. Yet there was still something about the stark beauty of it all.

  Bridey raised herself on one elbow and began looking down at him with that look she had when she was hungry for him and despite his self-loathing, his dick signalled instant interest. It hadn’t been that quick to respond for a very long time now. The first thing which had to be rectified was that she was wearing far too many clothes. It was important to get them out of the way. His hands slid up the bare skin of her stomach and circled around enjoying the feel of it. She had lain back to let him explore groaning softly as his hand stroked her belly. There was no hurry. He lifted her top to free each breast letting his fingers take their time on her nipples, settling back into the sensation and watching her begin to relax. His mouth hovered over her, tantalising, until she arched her back to draw closer.

  The top absolutely had to come off because it was not only in the way, but he wanted her naked on the blanket in the middle of the Simpson Desert, as if this openness and solitude could last for as long as the sand dunes themselves stretched out into the space around them. They began kissing until their need to devour each other pushed all other thoughts aside. Every inch of her body was waiting for him. She was growing impatient to reach under his shirt and he couldn’t let her go. She pushed at him until she could roll, and triumphant, sat on top lifting his shirt, kissing him and running her hands all over the skin until he could hardly bear it without exploding. But she wouldn’t let him move or touch her until she was finished. The slow seduction continued as she undid his jeans and began to slide them down not quite far enough. Bridey had changed. Rather than rushing ahead so excited she couldn’t wait for them to get right into it, this time, after all they’d been through, she was savouring each tiny piece of him, and he was left groaning, helpless and longing to be let loose.

  Her hands played with his hips running light fingers around his lower belly, and then, just as he was feeling hopeful, she withdrew them and slipped them down the sides of his waist and onto the bare skin of his buttocks tucking her hands right into his jeans but not pushing them down. He began to groan and roll backwards and forwards under her trying to feel her against him as much as she would allow, but she went on tantalising him shifting her breasts forward until they hung above him just out of reach of his mouth. Then, kissing deeply as the excitement mounted, his attempts to move her forward left her determined to keep charge. He pushed her trackies down over her hips pulling her towards him to get them off as far as he could reach and then grabbing her bottom, and following her lead ran his hands in tantalising circles over her until it became urgent to remove the obstacle. She eventually yielded allowing him to roll her over and lie on top again. He sat back to look at the picture.

  She was so naked. The sun shone on her stark white skin and every inch of her glowed under its spotlight. He turned her over so he could see all of the other side, and she lay with her head on her forearms as he knelt above her drinking it in. Then he pulled her up to stand, and she went willingly. His feet were light now, and he spun her over the sand and around the entire circle of the fire and the tents, coming to pause somewhere, anywhere. Without asking, he took her hand and led her up the nearest dune where they could see for miles and miles. The whole world belonged to them. He lifted her to wrap her feet around his waist and his hands clasped her holding her up and pushing himself into her in an ecstasy of longing. They fell to their knees in the sand kissing and clinging desperate to never let go.

  They thanked Homarta for whatever herbs had dried up her period and given them this time after all the weeks of struggle. He shook her awake from where she was lying half on top of him, and when she complained, he held her still and said, “Well. I’m not fussed. I could be here for the rest of the afternoon, but it’s your bum that’s burning.”

  They had to dress. It was either that or the tent, which was too stuffy. Between it and the car, they found a small patch of shade into which they crawled with a sleeping bag for a cushion against the hot sand. The sun had begun to set when they woke. If it hadn’t been for the others being like
ly to return at any time they would have begun again.

  The first to return were Flagran and Josh on such a high it was impossible to make much sense of their story. Flagran grabbed Sandro and locked him in a bear hug murmuring his delight in the changes he found, not only the physical ones but also the new connection he found between the young couple. He took Bridey to one side laughing when she winced as she sat with him on the side of a dune. In a way which only Flagran could do, he told her how little he thought of himself for abandoning her when she had needed support. Bridey was astonished at this confession. In her head, it had been all quite justified. How any of them could have put up with her while she was like that, she had no idea. “Flagran. I hated myself. And I’m used to it. There’s no way you should have been friendly while I was horrible.” But he shook his head. “There are so many options for being with someone when they are struggling, Bridey, and withdrawing is the cruellest. Harsh criticism comes a close second.” He laughed. “Next time you behave like that…and that may be next month…” (It was her turn to shake her head) “We’ll be having some close discussion about it. Especially if you think you can get away with being abusive or rude.”

  She took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Thank you.” She turned to him and put her head on his chest while he patted it and kissed her hair.

  Josh didn’t notice Sandro’s recovery. He was quite manic. He was dancing around recounting tales and so excited that Flagran had grinned and taken over the story in order to make some sense of it for the others. Apparently they had been asked to leave because of Josh’s interest in one of the young girls at the camp. He was all over Bridey. Although, in a very different mood this evening she was tolerating it quite well, he didn’t pull his head in after Sandro had spoken to him twice and begun to growl a warning. This only made Josh dance in front of him challenging and unaware he was no longer protected by Sandro’s injuries. Fortunately Torrenclar was still on his way.