by Steve Hawke
It is Janey who wakes him, running down the path calling for him and Jimmy. She unslings her bag when she reaches the shack, panting. ‘Where’s Jimmy?’
‘Not sure.’ Dancer has that heavy feeling that comes after a daytime sleep. Then he looks properly at Janey. ‘You’ve found something, haven’t you.’
‘Have I ever Dancer. They’re going to wreck everything. Some mob called Garnet Investments.’ She waves the notebook at him. ‘It’s all in here.’
But as she is about to tell him all about it, they are interrupted by the cries of Tich. ‘Jimmy! Janey! You there Janey?’
Tich is racing up from the direction of the beach with Buddy on her heels, spilling out her news as she gets closer. ‘There was this weird floating thing —’
‘A buoy,’ Buddy interjects, as he arrives.
‘Yeah, buoy. At the creek. Horse was there, in a boat. He was writing stuff down.’
Buddy and Tich had paddled back at top speed as soon as Horse had left, bursting to tell the others, especially Janey, who would be sure to have some ideas about it. They can’t believe it when she cuts them short, tells them to sit down and listen — the buoy can wait.
Dancer, Buddy and Tich listen and watch, stunned into silence, their gloom deepening as Janey tells the story. The file she found reveals that Garnet Investments has applied for a ninety-nine year lease over the headland. The pegs the kids discovered mark the route for an access road leading to a new resort development.
It is all reproduced in Janey’s sketch. At the highest point is the main building, with reception, function centre and restaurant. There are landscaped gardens and a swimming pool. Spreading out in two long wings on either side of the headland, with one wing overlooking their own Eagle Beach, are lines of ‘self contained luxury cabins’.
When she finishes there is a heavy silence. Dancer is the first to speak. ‘If they’ve only applied, how come they’re already marking out the road?’
‘That’s the worst part. There’s a form on the file that says they’ve got a preliminary approval already — whatever that means. We’re going to have to check it out more.’
Dancer puts a finger on a small square on her sketch. ‘What’s this?’
‘That’s the fence they’re going to put around Jiir Rock. That’s supposed to protect it they reckon — then they can flatten everything else.’ Her tone is bitter. She looks up from the sketch at Dancer. His eyes are burning with anger.
Jimmy propped his bike against the wire fence of the Goolarri compound and flexed his shoulders so the guitar case would rest more easily on his back. He followed the arrow on a sign announcing ‘Youth Talent Quest, 4 pm’ round to the back of the transportables that housed the radio station.
In the courtyard a woman called Dot was registering entrants. ‘Jimmy Jirroo. I should have guessed you’d be here.’ She smiled encouragement. ‘Got your guitar, hey. Just you, or the other kids coming behind?’
Jimmy’s mouth opened, then closed. All the way here he’d been swinging between conflicting emotions. He was furious at Janey for not being there for practice, and at Buddy and Tich for disappearing. His angry self was saying, ‘Bugger them, just go in. It’s your tune,’ but a calmer self reminded him that it belonged to Janey too, and by now to all of them. And what they would think of him if he did this.
‘Well?’ Dot’s question intruded on these voices inside his head.
He’d been planning to suss it out first before making up his mind. Put on the spot, with other kids waiting behind him, he stuttered, ‘Um … er … I’m just watching.’ Dot gave him a funny look, then shifted her attention to the next lot of kids.
Soon the talent quest is underway. Jimmy has found himself a spot in the shade at the back of the small crowd. So far he is unimpressed. One girl accompanied herself on guitar doing the current number one hit, and he thought it was a toss up whether she was worse than the original singer or not. The other acts had used backing tapes, karaoke style, and sounded just as bad as most karaoke singers.
It wouldn’t even have been a contest — they’d have won hands down. Then it gets worse. Michael and Pony are performing a rap number, using a backing tape too. They’re wearing Yankee basketball singlets and back-to-front caps and Nike shoes, and doing a passing routine with a basketball as they rap. It’s a straight take from the clip on Video Hits. The trouble is, though he hates to admit it, they’re doing a fair job of it.
Michael knows it too. He’s getting cocky and spins the ball on his finger. Still rapping, he catches Jimmy’s eye, and Jimmy does not enjoy the moment. One up for Jordan against the Jirroos in their never-ending feud. Michael rubs it in by flashing a grin at Kim.
Big Al leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. ‘What can I do for you Georgie?’
Georgie shifts nervously in the visitor’s seat. He clears his throat, then blurts out the question that has been whirling around his head since his encounter with Janey. ‘Do you know anything about a company called Garnet Investments?’
Big Al’s face is impassive. ‘Why do you want to know?’
Georgie fidgets some more. He could not explain why he is so certain of his hunch, even to himself. Or his motivations for what he is doing. They are more complicated than straight greed. But the feeling was so strong, he decided to skip the talent quest. He looks away from Big Al, out the window. ‘There’s an important dreaming site out near Eagle Beach.’
He pauses, waiting for some response. None comes. He glances sideways at Big Al and tries again. ‘Jiir Rock.’
There is another pregnant silence before Big Al says, as if this information means nothing to him, ‘So?’
Georgie looks at the floor now. This is not how he had imagined the conversation. ‘As you know, I’m the Aboriginal Liaison Officer at the Planning Department.’
Big Al won’t help him out at all. Finally Georgie looks up at him and forces the words out. ‘I could … possibly … depending on the circumstances … be in a position to, er, help a company that had … um, let’s say, interests out there. Or not help them, as the case may be.’
A smile breaks slowly over Big Al’s face: a self-satisfied, conspiratorial smirk. He gets to his feet saying, ‘Like a drink Georgie?’
The kids examine Janey’s sketch map again. They are standing on the rise where they stood with Nyami Micky the day they discovered the pegs. This is as close as they are allowed to Jiir’s place. Janey points out where the main building, the pool, and the cabins will go.
The thought of a huge development and thousands of people swarming over the headland makes them all feel sick in the guts. Even worse than this feeling though is the fear that comes with the memory of Buster’s words when Janey asked what would happen. ‘Nothing yet,’ he had said. ‘That’s only little pegs. If they make a road though, or something like that, and they wake up old Jiir …’
Dancer snatches the peg from the ground and hurls it into the bush. The kids are not looking forward to getting home and delivering this news. They are starting back when Dancer holds up a hand and stops as he cocks his head to listen. ‘What’s that?’
In the distance they can hear the mechanical growl of heavy machinery. At first the noise means nothing. Graders and trucks are ever present on the roads and tracks around town. But the noise grows louder as the kids head for the shack. Dancer looks at Janey and she looks back at him and they turn in the direction of the sound.
As they get closer they become more alarmed and break into a jog. When they hit the line of pegs, the noise is straight ahead. ‘It’s a dozer for sure,’ Dancer says.
They break out of the bush into a clearing and there it is. A bulldozer, its huge blade down, churning up dirt, tussocks of grass and wattle bushes as it chugs towards them belching diesel fumes.
Janey is the first to gather her wits. She walks forward until she comes to a halt in the middle of the clearing and stands, hands on hips, directly in the machine’s path. Dancer and Buddy follow and stand j
ust behind her. Janey keeps her eyes fixed on the dozer and shouts over the engine noise, ‘Stay where you are Tich!’ But Tich takes no notice and marches up to stand beside Dancer, who puts a protective arm around her.
The bulldozer shudders to a halt, engine still running, with its blade less than a metre from Janey. The blade is slowly raised. The dirt that spills from it sprays Janey’s feet, but she does not flinch. The blade reaches its full height with a clunk of metal on metal. It towers menacingly over the kids.
A man climbs down from the cabin removing earmuffs and sunglasses. When they see who it is the kids all jump to the same conclusion. It is Mack. And that can mean only one thing: Big Al has something to do with it.
Mack’s thin mouth is twisted in a malicious smile as he mocks Janey, putting his hands on his own hips. The pair stare at each other coldly. Buddy shouts over the engine, ‘You tell Big Al he’s not going to get away with this!’
‘And the winner of the Radio Goolarri Youth Talent Quest is …’ Dot pauses for dramatic effect. Standing behind her in the row of contestants Michael nudges Pony, his chest already puffing out. Dot turns around from the audience to the row of kids, ‘Kim Higgins!’
Kim buries her face in her hands as the crowd applauds. She peeps through her fingers, then lets her hands drop. She is blushing and grinning widely at the same time. She brings her grin under control, and turns a coy smile in Michael’s direction. He is standing with folded arms trying to look as if he doesn’t care, but he won’t look at her.
Giving up on Michael, she lets the grin reappear and looks around the audience. Clapping louder than anyone else is Jimmy.
He hadn’t much liked the song Kim had chosen, but she’d sung it well. Less power than Janey he thought, but right on pitch, and lots of feeling. And best of all, she beat Michael. He consoles himself with the thought that at least one good thing has come out of this disaster of a day.
The blade of the dozer is lowered slowly and hits the ground with a thump. The kids are rigid with tension. The engine revs, and a cloud of diesel fumes blows over them. There is a grinding of gears and the huge machine inches forward.
Tich gasps and takes an involuntary backward step. The dozer jerks forward another few centimetres and revs even louder. Dancer scoops Tich up and grabs Buddy’s arm. He forces Buddy aside, out of the dozer’s path. As he does so he catches a glimpse of the twisted smile on Mack’s face again, up in the cabin.
The dozer creeps closer to Janey. Still she stands there. Tich screams, ‘Janey!’ She does not turn, but Dancer can see she is starting to tremble, as the pushed up dirt begins to spill over her toes. He reaches in. Janey does not resist him, but he has to literally drag her out of the bulldozer’s path.
10
DANCER WAKES WITH the first light of day.
He tries pulling the blanket over his head, but this morning it won’t work. Images from the last couple of days are crowding his mind, spilling over from his dreams. The shock, and the sick feeling in his guts as they gazed on the line of surveyor’s pegs heading straight for Jiir Rock; the bulldozer as it bore down on Janey; and worst of all, the look on Buster’s face when they gave him the news.
With the thought of Buster, Dancer is fully awake and out of bed in a flash, remembering that he has to sit with the old man today. Normally he’d be more than happy to miss the first day back at school, but not like this.
In the top bunk Buddy is still sound asleep, lost in a dream of his own. A glance out the window shows no signs of life, but he knows Bella will be up. He pads through the silent house and across the yard to her place.
‘Mornin’ Dancer.’ Bella gives him a smile as he brushes aside the straps of the fly screen. She hands him a big pannikin of milky tea and butters a couple of hefty slices of damper, then goes back to scrubbing out a huge pot.
‘You cooking up broth?’ Dancer asks.
‘Yep, you can take it with you up to the reserve.’
‘Nyami Micky’s still there for now though isn’t he?’
‘He’s gone out to get me some birrga birrga and fever grass for the broth.’ She sees the look of concern that comes over him. ‘Don’t worry Dancer, Buster was sleepin’ when Micky left him.’
‘Still, he shouldn’t be on his own, Mimi. I’ll go straight up now, hey. Buddy can bring the broth later.’
When he does manage to get up with the dawn, Dancer likes this early hour. Usually it is when they are out bush, and he can listen to the birds and enjoy the quiet and the stillness as the light grows richer. But this morning he hardly notices his surroundings as he pedals through the deserted streets, past the shuttered shops, and up Kennedy Hill to the reserve. All his thoughts are with the old man.
He finds Buster still asleep on the verandah of his tiny house, sprawled out on a foam mattress on the old iron bed. But it is a troubled sleep. Sweat glistens on his forehead and grey stubble shows on his upper lip and jaw. The blanket has become twisted by his tossing and turning.
Dancer pulls a chair close by the bed and watches, sitting as still as Jiir poised on a branch. When Buster rolls over, Dancer reaches out to straighten the blanket. The old man stirs again. He mumbles something and his eyes flicker open. He gives Dancer a weak smile.
‘You okay Nyami?’ Dancer asks anxiously. ‘Can I get you anything?’
Buster reaches out with his near hand and pats Dancer’s knee. He doesn’t answer. Dancer holds his eye, and dares to ask the question that is filling his mind. ‘It’s Jiir, isn’t it? That bulldozer.’
The hand stays on Dancer’s knee, limp, but somehow reassuring. The old man’s eyes close as he nods. This seems to bring a fresh wave of pain to his fevered body, and it is not the strong voice familiar to Dancer that speaks. ‘You’re startin’ to understand boy. That dozer’s woken up old man Jiir. In his place there under the ground, he heard those rocks comin’ down … He was talking to me in my dreams last night … You kids did your best.’
Dancer feels the pressure of the hand on his knee.
‘But he wants to know why I’m lettin’ them bugger up his place. I’m supposed to be the boss for that place … supposed to look after it.’ He pulls the blanket up around himself as if to ward something off, and turns away from Dancer.
Dancer watches the hunched figure for a moment, then pushes himself sharply to his feet. He doesn’t realise he has been holding his breath until it rushes out in a sort of gasp that is a mixture of worry and anger.
Georgie eases his car into the verge by the Jirroos’ driveway. He waves down Eddie’s battered ute and puts on his official voice. ‘A complaint has been lodged with the Department.’
Eddie’s reply has a sharp edge. ‘What sort of complaint?’
At the other end of the driveway Buddy is walking across the yard. He is intrigued at the sight of his two uncles facing each other down from the driver’s seats of their cars. He crouches behind a trailer where he can hear Georgie.
‘Apparently your daughter was the ringleader of a group of children who were interfering with the lawful activities of a developer down at Eagle Beach yesterday.’ Eddie snorts, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as Georgie continues. ‘I’m also told that their behaviour endangered not only their own safety, but that of the worker involved.’
Eddie is trying hard to keep his temper as he snaps back. ‘Mack was in danger was he! Get down off your high horse Georgie, and talk like a Broome boy. We know who you are and where you’re from. Remember? We used to play music together once — before you started getting airs and graces.’
Georgie and Col both open their doors. Buddy tenses, eyes wide at the prospect of a fight, right here in the driveway. But Eddie puts a hand out and signals for Col to stay where he is. Georgie hesitates, and settles back into his seat as he speaks. ‘If that’s how you want to play it Jirroo, then let me put it this way. Tell your brats to keep their noses out of other people’s business, and keep them off the streets.’
Eddie has gone past anger now
; he shakes his head in disbelief at the words coming from this man who used to be his friend, an in-law. ‘Eagle Beach ain’t the streets Georgie. It’s Jirroo territory. You know that. But I haven’t got time to argue the toss with you. We’ve got real jobs to go to.’ He turns away in disgust and restarts his ute, then looks back at Georgie. ‘I thought your job was to look after blackfellers, not help the bigwigs stitch us up.’
Georgie yells furiously at the departing ute, ‘That’s right, run away! Just like a Jirroo. Just like your brother. Andy got off light, he should’ve done life for killing my sister!’ The engine screams, as Georgie slams his door and reverses out into the street.
Buddy gets up slowly from his spot behind the trailer, watching Georgie disappear.
‘There you are!’ It is Mary, with a cross look and a large thermos. ‘You better get a move on Buddy. Here’s Bella’s broth. Drop it off at the reserve, and get yourself to school quick smart, hey. The others left ten minutes ago.’
Buddy’s first thought is to tell Mary what has just happened, but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he takes the thermos with a complaint. ‘It’s not fair. Why do I have to go to school while Dancer stays back with Buster?’
Mary gives him a look that makes it clear she is not in the mood to start down that sort of track. ‘Just get a move on. What are the teachers going to be thinking, with you late on the first day of term!’
Buddy gives his aunt a dirty look and snatches his schoolbag. Taking off down the driveway, one hand on the handlebars of his bike, the other cradling the thermos, he almost loses his balance as he turns his head for a parting retort. ‘If Dad was here, he’d let me.’
Buddy feels like he is about to explode. He tears down the footpath trying to shut Georgie’s words out of his mind, riding as fast as he can, as if trying to take out his feelings on the pedals. He doesn’t see the car reversing out of a driveway until the last second. He slams on the brakes, swerving and skidding, then spills to the ground.