There was silence.
‘Elise?’
‘Yah,’ She sounded uncertain. ‘This is not a joke?’
I thought about the way Jonathan had teased her and Franz about their sense of humour. ‘No. I’m deadly serious. I’m not in close enough range to get through to the homestead. I need you to radio the homestead and get them to send out a chopper, a helicopter, to the escarpment above Lizard Gorge. Do you understand?’
‘Yah,’ Elise said. ‘A helicopter to the escarpment above Lizard Gorge.’
‘There’ll need to be a flying doctor waiting at the homestead to fly him out to Derby hospital.’
We found a clearer spot on the cliff top where a chopper could feasibly land. I didn’t want to take Dan any further on horseback. As Sandman had picked his way past rocks and bushes, I’d winced at every jolt, knowing it might be causing Dan more damage.
Aria helped me lower Dan from Sandman onto a swag. The sun beat down on us and I tried to cover Dan’s bare head with the rest of my torn shirt. When she saw what I was doing, Aria silently handed over her now far-from-white shirt. Her hat was missing too. We were both going to be fried. Tipping a flask against the cloth, I squeezed it through Dan’s lips. His eyes were closed. Occasionally he moaned and turned his head – as if fighting demons in a nightmare.
I could be patient with cattle, horses and long days spent in the saddle, but I had no patience now. Every second dragged into an hour. A grasshopper took ten minutes to leap from one dried-up stalk to the next. I stood again and gazed in the direction of the homestead. Finally, after the hundredth time, I heard a distant beat.
A bright blue chopper appeared through the shimmering heat haze. As it came closer, I waved my arms like a crazy woman. Aria joined me. We hit the ground when the chopper landed. Never was I so grateful to hear the deafening thrum of an engine. Civilisation. Rescue.
The pilot took one look at us and reached behind his seat to toss us a folded pile of his spare clothes before helping Aria and I load Dan in. My makeshift bandage was soaked with blood, but I was relieved to see that a dark crust had formed on it. ‘Is he going to be okay?’ I pleaded, willing the pilot to tell me, even though he was only a young stockhand who heli-mustered for a neighbouring station.
He looked uncertain. ‘Doc’ll know. The plane’s meeting us at Bundwarra. Do you want to come with him? Got a spare seat.’
My heart thumped in my chest. I longed to go. I wanted to be there when Dan woke up. I wanted to hold his hand. I wanted to breathe him in. But I couldn’t leave Aria. She didn’t know how to get back. She didn’t know the land. Besides, there were three people at camp to think about. They were on my team; I was responsible for them.
‘No. I have to stay.’
Aria toyed with the gold bracelet from Hong Kong. I took a deep breath. ‘My friend might like to go though.’
The pilot raised his eyebrows and gestured into the door. There was no time to waste.
Aria shook her head. ‘I’ll stick with Skye.’
FOURTEEN
Jonathan raced to Aria; she waved him away. Franz nodded a curt and concerned welcome back. Elise squeezed my hand.
‘Dan will be made better now?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know.’
We wouldn’t meet our quota and there’d be some scrawny cows by next winter with bloated weaners sucking their lifeblood away, not to mention a greater possibility of TB next muster round, but there was nothing else we could do. Blue Dreamer was dead, Dan was wounded and . . . I was stuffed.
‘I don’t know what to do. Maybe we should just pack it all in.’
Aria sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, as if trying to make herself as small as possible. ‘We can’t quit, Skye. Your family needs us to keep going. There’s nothing we can do for Dan right now.’
I brushed at my eyes, pretending to wipe out some grit.
‘I vote we finish the muster,’ Aria said.
Jonathan gave a rousing, ‘Yee haa!’
Franz and Elise nodded.
‘You sure?’ I whispered.
Aria sprang up and almost bowled me over with her fierce hug. ‘You bet.’
The next two days were full on. We processed beast after beast, separating them out and sending them through the dip and crush, where I jabbed them in the neck with the vaccine until the needles blunted while Aria cut their tail fur with surprising dexterity. She was a true professional – tail stylist to the Brahmin stars. She had found her forte and I had never seen her work so hard.
At the end of the second day, I radioed the homestead for another progress report . They had flown Dan down to the Royal Perth Hospital for orthopedic surgery. Gran said the cattle trucks would be coming out in two days, but before that, some new recruits were joining us.
New recruits? I was mystified.
Some time round mid-morning, the supply vehicle rocked up. I darted forward as Mum relinquished a white-knuckled grip on the troopie’s Jesus bar. There were ashy streaks in her blonde hair, but she was still lean and tall and strong – like me.
‘Mum!’ I gasped. ‘You’re back?’
Mum gave me that rough pat on the back thing that equated to a hug in our family.
‘The negotiations took an unexpected turn.’
My heart thudded. ‘Tell me!’
‘Exclusive export deal for Bundwarra boutique meats. First shipment goes out in a fortnight.’
‘No way!’ I squealed.
‘Yes way.’ Damien hopped out from behind the driver’s seat. A girl stepped out nimbly and stood beside him.
‘Damien!’
‘Didn’t think I was gonna miss the muster, did you?’
He plonked on a great big Texan hat too big to fit in the cab of the Land Cruiser.
‘What do you call that?’ I demanded.
Damien tipped the brim towards the girl. ‘This purdy liddle thing?’
The girl elbowed Damien in the ribs. She had straight brown hair pulled into a ponytail and an amused glint in her hazel eyes. ‘This is my gal, Melissa,’ Damien announced.
Rolling her eyes, Melissa punched his shoulder before giving me a hug. ‘Ignore your brother.’
I grinned. ‘No problem – habit of a lifetime.’
That last night around the campfire was bittersweet. As much as I had lost, the muster wasn’t a complete disaster – and Elise and Franz and Aria and Jonathan had been part of my team. It had been a tough journey for everyone. Watching their faces in the flickering firelight I felt real pride. Dan was going to live and the rewards were . . . worth it.
Enamel plates were passed around and I was surprised by the meal Aria had cooked, admittedly with Jonathan’s help – he’d once taped a pilot for a cooking show. The rice was fluffy and the beef stew actually had taste!
I gave her the thumbs up and felt a moment’s shame as Aria’s eyes lit up. Had I been too hard on her? Would I have been the same with any other newbie? A WWOOFer? I’d had unrealistic expectations, not to mention other, less comfortable, emotions.
It was a strange thing, how we could become conditioned over such a short time to feel like this was the only reality – a world of dust and cattle and hard yakka. Back at St Anne’s no one else could understand why people would make such idiots of themselves on reality shows like Big Brother. But I understood: the people in Big Brother believed that was all there was. They’d forgotten that life could be any other way or that tomorrow it could change.
Melissa and Damien bantered across the fire. She was no calf-eyed girly girl sighing from the stands as Damien rode the bucking bronco: the sort who’d dutifully carry his saddle while he got smashed on a carton of Emu. Melissa gave as good as she got. Better. And their swags were tucked in close. It looked as though Damien might finally have met his match.
Franz and Jonathan competed with the washing up, flicking each other with suds to the giggling delight of Aria. Mum and Elise chatted about a village in Germany that Mum and Dad had visited on t
heir whistle-stop honeymoon tour before they’d had to get back to help dip the cattle . . .
Mum excused herself from Elise to sit beside me. Perhaps she had read my face. Although she wasn’t touchy-feely, we’d always been connected, almost in that telepathic way horses are, the way Dan seemed to be with animals.
‘It’s so sad about Blue Dreamer,’ she said.
I balled my knuckles against my eyes because I didn’t want anyone to see me cry. I wanted Mum close, but I felt cold and alien on the outside. I longed for Dan’s strong arms around me.
The whole thing had been my stupid fault. I had been too impatient, too proud, too irritated by Aria. Too jealous. If I’d helped Aria rather than resented her, Blue Dreamer would still be alive and Dan would be here beside me now, not lying in a hospital bed with an arm that he might never be able to use again. And what sort of life would he have then? It was common enough out here for stockmen to lose a finger or two. There were a thousand opportunities a day to crush or sever a digit, but that was a matter of pride – the sign of a real countryman. Trying to do things one-handed was a much bigger challenge. It would be impossible to strain fencing wire, fix a bore or throw a bull.
‘You did your best, Skye,’ Mum said. ‘That’s all we can ever do. Things do go wrong. Aria told me how you rescued Dan. I’m proud of you.’
Later, when everyone had turned in, I listened to the low, comforting crackle and sputter of the dying fire and stared up at the stars. This was it. This was life; this was what I wanted. The Milky Way arced overhead – a river of sparkling white in the big sky. I felt it then, the roar of the stars, the huge sweep of country rising up to greet me. This was my place. I might not have the stories from thousands of years of learning and living this land, but I did have a love for it that was bigger than anything I could describe in words. Maybe that love gave me the right to belong.
Saying goodbye to the team was harder than I expected. Aria sobbed as she and I hugged the others goodbye; Elise and Franz and Jonathan were staying on. I promised to email Elise, knowing that I’d write one, maybe two emails if I got round to it. That was how it worked.
Mum had once told me that maintaining friendships across distance and time is a special skill, a talent. I thought again about Dan in his hospital bed. My whole body ached with the memory of our night together on the escarpment. I wondered if Dan and I would manage to keep in contact, if I’d have the talent.
Aria and I didn’t speak for the first hour or so of the ride back to the homestead. I rode Charlie, Aria trotted alongside me on Brodie, and we picked our way along the stony ground. Despite two weeks of hard work in the saddle, she still rode with gymkhana erectness and a prissy gait. At least she had cow dung on her boots. The cherry red leather boots were scuffed and a couple of the eyelets had been ripped off.
‘Are you okay?’ Aria asked.
This wasn’t how our friendship worked. It was usually Aria who needed my reassurance and attention. I wanted to shrug off her question. But the past couple of days had undone me. I couldn’t hide my feelings. I just wanted to cry. ‘I was thinking about Dan.’
‘He’s so great,’ Aria enthused. ‘He’s gentle and understanding and . . . kind of wise. I told him Daddy would give him a job at the mines if he wanted one, after the muster.’
My knuckles whitened on the reins and I glanced up at the cloudless sky.
‘He said no,’ Aria continued. ‘He said he didn’t want to be ripping the earth’s guts out.’
I smiled beneath the brim of my akubra.
‘I never really thought about it like that.’ Aria’s face sank in on itself. ‘You’re so lucky to have a guy like Dan.’
‘What do you mean?’ My voice cracked, betraying me.
Aria flashed me a sly grin. ‘It was totally obvious how much he liked you. He was always trying to take the load off when you were stressing out. That’s why he kept helping me out – so that you wouldn’t have a total breakdown.’
‘You were flirting with him the whole time!’
Aria laughed. ‘Yeah. And Jonathan. And Franz when Elise let me near him.’
‘You’re . . .’ I thought about the word Mum used about Damien whenever he emerged from the bushes after a camp draft with a different girl on his arm from the night before ‘. . . incorrigible!’
Aria shrugged. ‘I flirt with everyone.’
‘But you knew Dan liked me – and you must have known I liked him?’
Aria had the grace to look ashamed. ‘You don’t understand. It’s easy for you. You’re like supergirl. You can lead a muster and throw massive bulls and make horses love you. And you can shoot a rifle. And you’re not scared of anything. You’ve got it all.’
‘Excuse me?’ I could hardly believe what I was hearing. ‘I’ve got it all? That’s a joke coming from Princess Aria Daddy-sent-me-in-his-private-jet!’
Bright red spots flared on Aria’s grubby cheeks. ‘You’re jealous of our money? Why is it such a problem for you that my father is rich?’
‘It’s not a problem!’ I shot back, causing Charlie to start. I tried to make my voice calmer. ‘I don’t care that your father is rich!’ That wasn’t true. ‘Or that you have maids who serve you and pick up after everything you do.’ Not true either. ‘Or that you have your own bloody credit card to max out with whatever you want.’ Definitely not true. ‘I just hate how you always expect to get your own way and if you can’t get it by flirting you try and buy it – like you did with Dan! You already have everything you could possibly want so why did you try and have the one thing I wanted? The one person who wanted me.’ True.
Aria’s eyes turned matte black. ‘If you hate it so much then why do you let me buy you things? Why do you stay at my house and let the maids pick up after you too? You’re a hypocrite!’
I wanted to leap off the saddle and slap her. I wasn’t sure if it was because of what she said, or because she had a point. And it went deeper than me letting her buy my friendship. The seething secret beneath our friendship was that I had been her sidekick when I longed for leadership. I had let her order me around when I wanted to be the boss. I wanted to be boss cow, leader of the mob.
There was a long silence as we followed a trail through acacias. When we came to a dancing family of boab trees with balloon-skirted trunks, intertwined branch arms and twig fingers clicking into the sky, I slipped out of the saddle to stretch for smoko. Aria pulled a sandwich from her saddle pack and ate it leaning against the smooth swollen grey trunk of the largest boab. ‘This tree is morbidly obese.’
I ducked so she couldn’t see my smile. I scrounged around for one of the big furry brown boab nuts and cracked it. ‘Taste this.’
Aria hesitated before taking a tiny mouse bite from the splintery white stuff inside.
‘What do you reckon?’
‘It tastes like sh —’ ‘Sherbet. I love it. Bush tucker. Boab trees are amazing. The trunks get so huge the hollows used to be overnight prisons.’
‘No way?’
‘Yep. For when it was more than a day’s ride to the watch-house.’ ‘Bet you wish you could have locked me up in a boab.’
I sighed. ‘No. I don’t wish that and I’m sorry. I was judging you and you’re right – I was happy to grab the good bits.’
Aria nodded, breathing fast through her nose. ‘That’s the way it’s been all my life. I want it – Daddy buys it. But he can’t buy me what I really want. It’s what you’ve got. You have no idea how lucky you are. You’ve got a family who wants to spend time with you. You joke with your father like you actually know him, like you’re friends. And this,’ she gestured to a sweep of country. ‘You know where you belong. You don’t doubt it. You don’t doubt yourself.’
I didn’t exactly feel sorry for her. Aria lived in the most amazing four-storey mansion with the Swan River sparkling at the bottom of the landscaped garden.
‘Daddy’s always busy working,’ Aria said flatly. ‘As for Mum – she’s always out shopping. I’m too
hard. Always have been. Too much trouble. There’s never any time for me. They buy me stuff so that I don’t complain. We don’t eat Saturday dinner together because my mother is always on a diet. When I was little, I ate with Rosita. Why do you think I’m at boarding school when my house is fifteen minutes away? They didn’t want me around. Mucked up their schedules. Interfered with their precious bloody trips to Italy.’
I blinked. Aria had always boasted about her parents: about how glamorous her mother was and how everyone thought she was Aria’s older sister and how her dad bought her amazing gifts on his business trips and how he’d said that when Aria finished school he’d buy her a round-the-world ticket and she’d stay five-star all the way… I glanced at her from beneath the brim of my akubra to see if this was another of her theatrical pieces. But it wasn’t – she was crying. And I realised she was telling the truth; she always needed to be the centre of attention because she didn’t get attention from the people she wanted it from most. Was it really possible that she was jealous of me? Me! But it was true that I knew where I belonged. Bundwarra had been under threat ever since I could remember, but nothing, nothing would stop me from being here – even if I had to jillaroo for another owner. As for my family – they were like well-worn boots, even Gran. I knew them. I’d scuffed around with them forever. They fitted.
Aria turned to me with burning eyes, tears glinting on her lashes. ‘You’re so lucky. I wanted to have what you have. I wanted to be you.’
Aria and I lounged around the campfire up river from the homestead. The big house was only a couple of hours ride away, but we both wanted to spend our last night out under the stars. This time I hadn’t needed to suggest she help look for firewood. Aria had disappeared into the bush fringing the river, on the assurance it was croc free, and returned with a load of dried twigs and silvery-grey branches half her size.
Once the billy bubbled we shared a cup of tea with half a tube of condensed milk squeezed into it. At St Anne’s, a cup of tea would have been the last thing we would have gone for. We would have been stuffing Aria’s endless supply of coins into the chocolate bar vending machine.
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