The Crocodile Hotel

by Julie Janson

  They sat in the dirt on the side of the road near a prickle tree for two hours fanning away the flies as Aaron sang songs.

  ‘Click go the shears boys, click, click, click …’

  ‘Enough Aaron. Okay, you kids sit in that shade, don’t drink all the water’, said Jane. Lizzy looked at a mirage of water glistening across the plain.

  ‘We can walk home Miss Jane. Robert and Shirley know de way cross our country, take two, maybe three days’, said Mayda.

  Robert shook his head.

  ‘I not sure. Don’t know ’im.’ He pursed his lips towards Shirley; she had the power of seeing pathways through stone escarpments and ravines. She stared in the direction of their homeland. It was a gleaming pathway, like a shining snail trail, moving as a lightning snake over mulga, scrub and rivers. For Shirley, the way home shone like silver.

  ‘We can go dis way, Miss Jane. You can foller me. I can do it’, said Shirley.

  Jane stroked the young girl’s hair. ‘No, Shirley, we must stay put and wait for help.’

  ‘There’s no help out here, just bad mens. I know the way, dis way.’ Shirley looked down the empty road and pointed with her lips to the south.

  ‘No far, maybe two day walk.’

  What about water?’

  ‘We find plenty. Native well there, lot of well. My mummy show me, special place little water snake place’, said Shirley.

  ‘She can do it, she know dat track’ said Mayda. The older girls nodded. Jane shuddered with the responsibility of fifteen Lanniwah children; she could see the newspaper headline: ‘Negligent teacher leads Aboriginal children to their death in desert’.

  ‘No, we stay here. It’s a lovely spot, nice shade’, she said.

  ‘Yeeai.’

  Hours passed.

  ‘Get some wood for a fire. It’s getting cold.’ Fear hovered as the sun set. Fear was like an old man ghost. Only silence. Later, stars came out in a shower of bright sparks. Shirley crept under Jane’s her arm and whispered, ‘Dis debil debil place, bad mens, Miss Jane.’ The children huddled under blankets. Hours went by and Jane fell asleep. Shirley flew across the ochre landscape with her hair in flames, shooting through the hills a few metres above ground, a swift rush of wind over the floodplain, over the heads of water buffalo and wild yellow camels. She was an angel, with Lanniwah children flying behind in her wake.

  The darkness overwhelmed them. Things were scarier in the dark. Bad mens. Jane thought about her mistake of trusting the old Toyota. Cheap as chips. Mayda gazed into the growing darkness, where Jane could see nothing.

  ‘Look out, here come ’nother truck.’ The other children gathered around and nodded wildly. Jane couldn’t hear anything, then there was a little hum in the far distance.

  ‘What is it, Mummy?’ said Aaron.

  ‘Oh no’, Mayda sighed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Dat one Harry, drunk stockman from Rainer River. He bin after barra. He Bossman’s boy, dat Hubert, dat his boy. He bin drinkin grog. He bin fight, he bin swear. He bin chasim womens. His daddy not want ’im.’

  Jane stood on the road and watched the dust barrelling towards them. She ran into the middle of the road and waved frantically as the light hit her.

  ‘Please help!’ Jane waved at the vehicle and it stopped.

  The driver pointed a torch at her; she shaded her eyes from the glare.

  ‘Hi Harry! I’m the new teacher at Harrison. Hey mate, take us home.’

  It was a battered brown cattle truck, with a dead something on the back. Harry climbed out of the cabin; he staggered as Jane looked at the dead crocodile. The green brown fins stood up and glassy eyes rolled back under yellow lids as big as saucers. Blackish liquid bubbled out of the great jaws, and the teeth shone in the night, yellow fence pickets, sharp as needles. She remembered that it was now illegal to shoot them, but here it was, stinking on the back of a rusty truck. Crocodile legs stood up with toes and claws reaching into the black night, a serpent’s tail leaning over the side. It was a Brueghel painting, a Flemish night on Purgatory Mountain. Aaron stepped forward and touched the tail.

  Harry was twenty but looked thirty in tight dirty jeans and a big silver belt buckle. His new black Akubra hat was pushed low over his eyes, his sun beaten face a mass of crinkles. He was skinny and dangerous.

  ‘Ya look done in’, he drawled, and sucked on a cigarette. A flicker of sex passed his eyes. Flicking his eyes at Mayda, he pursed his lips, and then grinned. Jane was aware that, yes, he seemed to be slurring his words, he was drunk, he was most probably a pig, but she willed him to be a civilised, helpful, non-racist gentleman.

  ‘I’m so glad to see you. We’ve been here for hours. My hero.’

  ‘Ya got a tinny or two for a thirsty bloke?’ He looked idly at the supplies on her vehicle. Jane ignored the pleading eyes of the Lanniwah girls.

  ‘There’s beer in the back, sorry it’s a bit warm. You like Fourex?’ She handed the beer to him and he cracked and swigged it in a second, then wiped his hand across his crooked mouth and stared openly at her breasts.

  ‘You should carry a rifle – ya never know. Could run into a tractor load of drunk blackfellas.’ Jane nodded blankly. He kept on: ‘I wouldn’t leave ya. You know I’m Hubert’s son? The shithead! Bush hospitality. Yeah … we’re known all over the world. You got a tomato in that esky? I haven’t seen a tomato for a year. Or an apple?’ She nodded and went to the box of Woolworths groceries, chose a tomato and handed it to Harry. He ate it in one bite.

  ‘We live on beef and tins at the Rainer. Real kind of ya.’

  Mayda pulled nervously on Jane’s arm. She whispered, ‘He bad, Missus.’

  Harry kicked at the Toyota tyres. ‘Stuffed eh? I can take ya. She’s a flatbed truck. I’ll put the croc off into the bush and come back later; he’s not goin’ anywhere, eh? You can tie the kids on with a rope. You got another few beers?’ He took a rope and tied the children onto the back of his truck. They looked very frightened.

  ‘You big girls can tieem little ones on. Well, how about that, fresh produce and a nice piece. I’m doin’ alright for a bushie.’

  Harry heaved the body of the crocodile onto the side of the road and covered it with a tarpaulin.

  ‘He bin drinkin, Missus. He no good Wunungah’.

  Jane didn’t listen. ‘We’ve been here for hours already. We have to go with him … He’s Hubert’s son so we’ll be fine.’ Jane spoke in a hushed tone as the children looked miserably at the greyish blood staining the truck floor. Their little hands gripped the rope that was tightened around them. Jane climbed into the cabin with Shirley and Aaron and the raving loony drunk. Harry started up the truck and it lurched away. He began singing:

  ‘They’ve got some jolly good drinkers in the Northern Territory. From Katherine down to Alice, it’s still the same old story.’ Jane thought he was very kind really; he was going out of his way. He was generous and quite nice under the tough appearance … but Harry gunned it. He tore down the road at eighty kilometres per hour.

  ‘Slow down! You’re going too fast. You’ll kill the children’, Jane yelled.

  His face transformed into a grimace of nastiness. Little mean eyes darted over her.

  ‘Shut up, I’m drivin my way. You do-gooders from down south, you know nothin’!’ He drove along the Arnhem Highway, a dirt road with Brahman cattle in the moonlight. He hunched over the wheel, insane, foot pressed to the floor.

  ‘For God’s sake stop, slow down you’ll kill the kids. Please. Oh God in heaven, look after these kids’, she shouted.

  ‘I like you.’ He turned his face, puffing Marlboros, eyes mad.

  ‘We’ll hit a bullock, you idiot, slow down!’ The children screamed on the back as they held on to the one thin rope that stopped them being thrown off the racing truck. Suddenly, with a majestic grace, a Brahman bull strolled onto the road. Jane watched in horror, a slow motion collision and a slam of brakes into the thumping animal, a crash. They were thrown forward, necks
wrenched. The bull rolled in front of them, tinkling glass, truck lights smashed. The bull staggered up and hobbled off into the bush.

  ‘Stupid cunt. Get the pickaninnies off.’

  Jane had already leapt out of the cabin and was helping the children off the flat top. White eyes in the black.

  ‘Where’s my bloody smokes?’

  Harry scrambled in the truck for his cigarettes as Jane huddled on the side of the road with the terrified children.

  ‘We’ll light a fire and wait’, Jane said. They gathered some wood and lit it. Harry put a tin of water on the fire.

  ‘Look at that, didn’t spill a drop. That’s what I call impressive driving.’ He smoked and gazed into the fire. The older girls moved away with the small children, they rocked them in their laps. Jane edged away from the fire and clutched onto Shirley. She watched him sideways and twitched when he made a slight movement. Harry’s snake eyes flickered around Jane.

  He moved closer to her, brushed prickles from the ground between them. Jane edged away.

  ‘You’ve got nice legs. How about it?’

  Silence and alarm filled the air.

  ‘Go away. The Boss will come soon.’

  ‘Not likely. Tell the pickaninnies to piss off so we can have a bit of privacy. You’re lovely.’

  ‘I’m married. Just stay away!’ Harry thrust his chin upwards in sign language to the children. ‘Get!’ Their fear of the stockman pulsed.

  He pulled her towards him.

  ‘No. I said no!’

  She shoved him away. He pushed against her chest shoving her down on the ground as he reached to undo his belt. One hand held Jane fast, a clenched fist at her throat. She could feel his erection. She shouted and pushed, her eyes wild. Terror choked her voice, she was strangling and coughing, her pulse raced. Then Mayda and Robert burst out of the darkness with a heavy branch of a tree, they slammed it into Harry’s back, dropped the branch and ran away.

  ‘You little pick bastards!’ He pushed Jane away and stood up, swinging around looking for his attackers. Jane scrambled into the bushes, her panting mixed with the sound of Aaron’s cries. The children huddled near her, she could hear the terror in their breathing, they hid behind mulga bushes. No one spoke. They watched Harry as he lumbered to the truck cabin. He reached in and drew out a shot gun. Harry stared into the black night. Whimpering from the Lanniwah children.

  ‘Where are you? Damn bitch!’

  He aimed into the sky and bang, a shot rang out with a burst of light and red sparks. Aaron began to scream; Harry turned and walked towards them. Jane felt as though she would faint with fear, she pulled Aaron into her arms and ran to some rocks with all the children behind her. A black wallaby jumped. She stopped and whispered for them to be quiet and placed Aaron into Shirley’s lap. She grabbed Jane’s arm and looked into her eyes. Shirley’s head shook from side to side ‘Don’t go!’ Jane used sign language for them to stay and be quiet; she walked out into the clearing. She stood in front of Harry, her legs shook.

  ‘Look Harry, don’t be silly, we are just a dumb bunch of women and kids, you wouldn’t want to hurt us.’

  He turned to the side, spat and laughed.

  ‘Yep, that’s right.’

  ‘And if you touch those kids, I’ll tear your flaming head off.’

  He stood very still and began to walk towards her. His cigarette dangled from his bottom lip. The gun was tucked under his arm like a Sunday newspaper. His hand fumbled for his fly zipper.

  Then the deus ex machina arrived – the distant sound of an approaching car. Shirley cried out: ‘Missus, look! Car with Lanniwah men and old lady comin.’ An absurd image, a Mini Moke car loaded with Lanniwah men and one ancient lady, arrived out of the blackness. Jane ran out in front of the headlights.

  ‘Please, help us. Can you give us a ride to Harrison Station?’ she begged. Her urgent pleading face was white. Harry walked up and placed his gun on his truck and strolled over to the car. He edged Jane out of the way, leant like a Boss on the bonnet of the car and lit his last cigarette, he tossed the packet away. So slow, so easy.

  ‘You mob go that way back along Harrison, and tell dat Boss Barkley that Miss Teacher she okay. I look after dis mob.’

  ‘No, we want a lift. Don’t listen to him. Please! I really need to get these children home’, Jane yelled with wild eyes. She was envisioning herself raped, bashed, the children terrified and running away in the bush, lost, dead. The old Lanniwah woman, a little white scarf around her head with daisies on it, sucked on her pipe. She looked deeply at Jane and then at Harry and measured the moment.

  ‘Dis white woman scared of dis white man. You boys take dem. I wait here smoke me pipe.’ The children cheered and helped the old lady climb out onto the ground as her boys gathered around her and the children took their place in the car, all crowded on top of each other giggling … Jane placed Aaron amongst them and the elder held out her hand to Jane; it was tiny and fragile, high veins criss crossed the black skin, the hand trembled a little like a small bird. Jane took it in hers and stroked the back of the hand with her thumb. Their eyes met, and there was a sigh of simultaneous breath … Through the old woman’s eyes came her heart. Jane was amazed that she could show such kindness, someone who had certainly witnessed her people’s massacre, starvation and dispersal and been treated like dirt by white people. Who had suffered countless humiliations? The old hand withdrew and she took a packet of tobacco from her bra inside her dress and offered it to Harry. He mumbled and took a pinch, he inclined his chin upwards, and the old lady gave him a cigarette paper to roll a smoke, a wordless peace offering. He couldn’t look at Jane. The old woman actually felt sorry for him too, she had seen his panic and Jane’s, and she had not judged this desperate drunk man. How could this eighty year old be so full of compassion? Where did her sublime goodness come from? Why was there no hatred and desire for revenge? Jane wanted to say: “You sensed my fear and you helped us, you smile and sit gracefully down beside a man who is drunk and possibly evil … But you have his measure, you can read his pathetic life, you have pity. You offered him a smoke. I want to be like you, full of heart and forgiveness.”

  Jane laughed.

  ‘My guardian angel.’

  The old woman nodded and puffed on the pipe, smoke whirled around her head, a halo. They drove into the tall, grey elephant grass beside the road, everyone smiling as the Mini Moke climbed the bank. From the top of the rise Jane looked back to see the old lady sitting companionably with Harry … She held Aaron close and watched the disappearing fire light out the back of the Mini Moke.

  They arrived at the sister cattle station to Harrison and were dropped off down by the manager’s house. Jane ventured up to the front door where a white cow’s skull glinted in the light from the lamp by the door. She rapped and waited. A soft tread behind the door, a weathered country woman opened the door a fraction, pink chipped finger nails clutched the door frame, a large diamond shone on a ring.

  ‘Hi, I am the teacher from Harrison, we broke down and I have fifteen children with me, we have hardly any food or water, we …’ She was cut off as the fly screen door slammed.

  ‘You can drink from the tank by the cattle pen, use the tin cup.’ The woman looked through the fly screen window and hissed. So this was the famous outback hospitality! Jane wandered back to the children and squatted on the ground amongst the cow dung and helped them drink water from one tin mug. Once again Jane thought about people’s capacity to forget simple compassion and kindness. To consider, how would I like to be treated in this situation? Without this feeling for others, all horrors, even Aboriginal massacres, were possible.

  Sometime later, a silent stockman drove them home in his truck … Jane stared at the dark landscape, hard dark trees. Aaron was curled up in her lap. She felt an overwhelming need to protect him, she stroked his back. She wanted to take him away, back to the city where he would be safe. The Territory was too tough, too unknown; it had a hard unforgiving brutali
ty. She looked at the bent white gums, they bowed down to some avenging god. Jane hated the place. A male domain, dominated by cruelty and harsh landscape. The ground grew little food, it was like the moon, no one should be forced to endure it. She wanted a peaceful life, with soft green trees and a beautiful home. She would save every bit of money and escape as soon as possible. She ran her fingers through her hair, it needed a wash. She was getting dandruff. The Lanniwah children were subdued; every one slept.

  At Harrison, the parents were relieved to see their little ones. Jane felt ashamed of her lack of preparedness for disaster, her failure to check the oil, but they hugged her; they were happy.

  As she put Aaron into his bed, she felt enormous relief … Jane would never allow this to happen to her again, she would be alert. There was a surge of strength in her head, she felt like the Hulk, powerful, invincible. She had taken Harry on, she had faced him, and she hadn’t run away, she had stared him down. It was possible she would have torn him apart with her hands if she had to. No one threatened her kids and got away with it. She would rather die than give in.

  CHAPTER 12

  School Inspector And Land Rights

  The country was in Jane’s bones but she cried for home (wherever that was) and it rained and rained in torrential streams with sheets of white lightning in the iron-stone country. She knew the school inspector was on his way. The little caravan shook with thunder like bombs. Gurrling, it was hot. Magpie geese gathered in huge flocks. Away by the coast, sea turtles laid eggs. The lightning spirits struck the land with tongues of flame, fertilising the earth and bringing new growth. Barramundi slept on floating lime-green lily pads. The floodplains were dotted with ti-tree swamps and exquisite billabongs fringed with pandanus. It would flood and devil-devil were rumoured to be on the march. Jane had listened to old ladies telling stories about the poisonous death adder hidden in leaves. A storm rolled across the black sky and a dingo appeared with electric blue fur, Jane nudged Aaron to look and they stared in amazement as it leapt down the rocks.