Where the Road Bends

by David Rawlings

  * * *

  Lincoln riffled through the Australian currency tucked away in his wallet, a rainbow of red, purple, blue, and gold. Such a difference to the greenback. He held a note up to the light. There were even little windows on it, almost as if a helpful country wanted to help you see who was coming to steal your cash. Lincoln turned the bill over in his hand. Unfamiliar faces. A couple of women. “You’ve got really colorful money. Who are these people, past presidents?”

  Sloaney laughed. “We don’t do presidents over here. These are famous Aussies.” He turned and pointed to the blue note. “The ten-buck note? Banjo Patterson, one of our great poets.”

  Eddie spoke to Lincoln via the rearview mirror. “The fifty has a black fella on it. David Unaipon. Preacher, author, inventor. Very smart guy.”

  Lincoln inspected the mustard-colored note. “We have politicians and great leaders on our money. Why don’t you have any on yours?”

  Sloaney grinned at him, a twinkle in his eye. “The minute we have any, we might do that. Anyway, there’s no need for your money out here. Nowhere to spend it. And besides, you’ve already paid for the trip. So what about you? Married? Kids?”

  “Was married.”

  Sloaney looked first at Eliza, then Bree. “Tough break.”

  Eliza flinched in her seat. Was she asleep?

  Eddie chuckled. “I thought you two must be couples.”

  Lincoln laughed. “No, old college friends. When we graduated fifteen years ago, we promised we’d reunite and do something special.”

  “Well, thanks for picking us. You must be pretty good friends to still be in touch all these years later.”

  “I guess so. Good to see everyone again.”

  Eddie nodded. “Good man. What do you do?”

  Lincoln puffed up as the conversation moved into his wheelhouse. “I’m a stockbroker in San Francisco and about to make partner.”

  “Good on ya.”

  A silence settled over the drone of the tires and Lincoln was disappointed at their lack of enthusiasm. “So stockbroking is a trillion-dollar industry of investments in—”

  Sloaney raised a hand. “We know. We might live in the middle of nowhere, but we don’t live in mud huts. So what do you hope to get out of this trip? Seeing as you’re the guy who booked the tour.”

  “I’m into anything that makes your heart race, so I’m keen to go rock climbing or whatever else you guys do for fun out here.”

  Eddie winked at him. “We could do that. What about the others?”

  “They’re up for everything, especially Andy. He’s more of an adrenaline junkie than all of us. If you need anyone to hold a snake or chomp down on a scorpion, it’s probably him.” Andy’s generous cheeks wobbled as his face leaned on a folded hoodie against the window. Now that would be funny if it happened.

  “Sit back, mate. Not long to go now.”

  Lincoln leaned his head back, still amused by the surprise Andy was going to get. But a thought shaded his joy—the answer he wanted to give but couldn’t in case Eliza was sleeping light. The one thing he hoped to get out of the trip was her.

  * * *

  The tires had stopped droning—they now plowed through fine sand as five chestnut and mottled horses trotted alongside their vehicle, weaving in and out of the low bushes. Bree stifled a squeal. “Look! Who owns those horses?”

  Eddie flicked wary glances to the thundering herd, his hands jerking the wheel away from their lunges toward their dirt track. “No one. They’re brumbies. They’re untamed and don’t want any kind of help in changing that.”

  Andy stretched with an extravagant yawn. “Is everything in this country designed to kill you?”

  Sloaney laughed. “If you don’t have your wits about you.”

  The flanks rippled on the majestic animals keeping pace with them. Roaming free, manes flowing in the wind, unencumbered by anything. “Where are we?”

  Eddie caught Bree’s eye. “The middle of nowhere.” He slowed the four-wheel drive and the soft shuffle under the tires was replaced by the slow crunch of gravel. The brumbies veered away from this new track as it bent around a clump of low grass and the brakes squealed as they came to a stop. “We’re here.”

  * * *

  The heavy car door creaked open and Andy placed his heels into the middle of nowhere. He felt remarkably refreshed—a sense he hadn’t felt in some time. The sun sunk low after a long climb across the sky as the whipping wind buffeted him. How long had they been driving? The terrain was flat as far as his eyes could see, interrupted by small, rocky outcrops—flat stacks of stone slabs teetering as they rose out of the sea of red. God’s game of Jenga. The occasional forlorn tree, bent over to the earth, back broken by the weather and the weight of time. Squat bushes punctuated the flat countryside, as if nature itself had given up trying to grow too tall in the harsh Australian outback.

  Andy blinked hard and, on autopilot, reached for his phone, before he decided better of it.

  Sloaney headed toward the trailer and Andy fell in behind him. “So do we have to put everything up ourselves?”

  “Nah, mate. Already done.”

  Andy spun on his heel. “Where’s the campsite?”

  Sloaney jerked his head not toward the distance but down. Beyond, a tall, knobbly skyscraper of packed dirt reached majestically into the sky.

  Sloaney moved past Andy lugging hefty bags. “Fire ants.” Half-a-dozen steps beyond the tower he disappeared—first his legs, then torso, then head. Andy gave the ant construction a wide berth and stood at the lip of a crater. The ground dipped into a circular hollow, fifty yards wide—a giant’s thumbprint depression in the earth, dotted with spinifex grass whose sandy-colored, spindly fingers waved against the crater’s floor. In the center was a clearing. Seven long, thin tents had been erected around a circle of stones, with dead wood piled high.

  A low whistle came from over Andy’s shoulder as Lincoln pushed past him and over the crater’s lip. “Now this is cool.”

  Eddie slung a bag from the depths of the trailer. “While we get set up, why don’t you choose your swag?”

  Andy trod carefully as he entered the crater. “Swag?”

  Eddie gestured to the tents as he descended. “Think of it as an outback tent. It won’t set any records for glamping, but when the blanket of stars rolls out above you and you can sleep under them all tucked up nice and safe, you’ll thank us. No better outback experience than that.”

  Andy’s bulky frame lost consecutive battles with gravity and momentum and with his final steps into the sandy sides of the thumbprint, he ran windmilling into the campsite.

  Lincoln peered out from beneath the thin, black mesh of his canvas cocoon. “Good to see you’re keen.”

  Bree whipped out her phone, and obligatory selfies with Eliza were taken in front of their sleeping quarters. “They look like coffins.”

  Andy ran his hand over the thick, green canvas, taut under the strain of pegs driven into the earth. He peeled back the rough fabric to reveal a thin, black mesh cocooning a mattress, folded blankets, and a rolled-up sleeping bag. The fading blue sky stretched wide above him, soon to be filled with the promise of stars.

  Andy circled the floor of the crater, checking for critters. Nothing but dirt and spinifex. He slogged his way through soft sand as he climbed to the crater’s lip, his thighs screaming with the unfamiliar exertion. He pulled himself over the lip and doubled over to regain his breath in the blustery wind. Their vehicle was the only sign of civilization anywhere in this landscape. In the distance graying clouds lit distant hills in burgundy and purple, and a roiling storm brewed on the horizon.

  Eddie brushed past him. “Are you hungry, mate? Let’s grab some tucker, hey?”

  Andy furrowed his brow. “Tucker?”

  Eddie’s voice echoed from deep within the trailer. “Tucker. Food. We might have some spiders or bugs you can eat.”

  Andy froze. He was starving, but there was no way he would be forced into that
. He reached for the softened shape of the remaining Mars bar in his pocket. He hoped he wouldn’t have to make it last.

  Eddie emerged from the trailer, his pearly white grin beamed through the fading afternoon light. “I thought so. I’m only winding you up because your mate said you’d be up for anything.”

  Lincoln. Andy grunted in frustration. “Are we going to do anything dangerous?”

  Eddie’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “We’ve got some surprises up our sleeves but don’t worry, we’ll look after ya.”

  Another flash of lightning, this time closer. “Are we about to get some rain? I didn’t think it rained in the outback.”

  Eddie shrugged. “We still get rain, just not as often and not as much, but if it does we’ll sure know about it.”

  “Is there any phone coverage out here?”

  Eddie shook his head. “Nah, mate. Only our satellite phone. That’s what I said to Eliza over there. If you wanted to disappear for a while, this is where you’d go.” He shouldered a hefty bag of supplies and disappeared over the crater’s edge.

  Andy cast a nervous eye toward the bright flashes peppering the hills. He breathed deep as he checked over both shoulders. Alone. He reached into his pocket and held his cell phone aloft, his eyes jammed shut against the messages he was sure he would get. He switched it on, but his phone stayed silent. His eyes drifted to the top corner of the screen. His heart leaped at the two words he desperately wanted to see: No Service.

  Fourteen messages had flooded his phone when he switched it on at the airport. He thumbed them open and deleted them all, a growing sense of power flushing back through him, a sense of control over his destiny. It had been far too long.

  He stared at the landscape and the flashes that were edging closer. They could come as close as they wanted. Those who were after him couldn’t.

  Nine

  The clouds slowly unveiled flecks of silver paint from an artist’s wide brush swept across the heavens. A chill moved in as the darkness chased the daylight from the landscape that surrendered by hues—orange to pink, pink to gray, and gray sliding to black. The dried gum tree crackled as the dancing campfire flames consumed it. Shadows shimmered between the swags and the spinifex, and Lincoln was washed in a warm orange glow.

  Dirt and ash puffed up from the ground, just beyond the end of the long, thin wooden tube Eddie held to his lips. Guttural sounds pulsed around the crater, a deep drone peppered with staccato birdlike calls. The sound seemed to flow through Eddie from deep within the land, passing through him and giving life to those creatures who lived on it.

  Lincoln sat mesmerized as the dying throes of the music landed softly on their campsite, almost like snow, as the silence again engulfed them. “That was amazing. Can I have a try?”

  Eddie frowned. “I’ve got permission to play this yidaki, and I do pay my respects to the Yolngu people of the Top End when I play it.”

  Eliza leaned into the circle of light. “What a wonderful instrument that symbolizes your people. Do all Aboriginal people learn to play the didgeridoo when they’re young?”

  Eddie chuckled as he rolled the instrument in his hands. Its pattern of fine white dots and brushstrokes fired in the firelight. “Another piece of culture for you to learn, Eliza. Like I said, this is a yidaki and not everyone plays one, but I do like playing it out here.”

  Lincoln smiled as Eliza backed away from another cultural gaffe. She was still the headstrong go-getter whose feet could alternate between her mouth and backpedaling from offense.

  “Still, it is a wonderful example of an ancient culture. You really do evoke a rich history developed over thousands of years.”

  A metallic, shrill chirping knifed through the silence. Eddie reached for his pocket and looked at the screen of his satellite phone with a wince. “Sorry, it’s my auntie. Always checks up on me.” He stood and walked into the darkness. “Auntie Deanne. No, we’re okay . . .”

  Lincoln scooped the last mouthful from his plate and lay back on his swag, his taste buds slathered with pepper and rich smoke. The kangaroo and bush tomatoes had sounded intriguing but tasted better.

  He leaned across to Andy. “You should’ve ordered the kangaroo.”

  Andy chewed on the last of his chicken and shrugged. The safe option, as Sloaney had jibed before he joined in Lincoln’s digs about needing to catch their dessert as it crawled along the crater floor. It was fun while it lasted, until Eliza had shot him a glaring look. He’d taken things too far.

  Lincoln studied Andy in the flickering firelight. The go-getter with money behind him seemed to be half the man he used to be, living in a shell that had doubled in size.

  Bree’s head shaking had started when the plates of kangaroo were handed around. It still shook. “How can you eat something so cute and adorable?”

  Lincoln chuckled. “Tell that to the deer we hunt.”

  Eddie’s voice grew louder and he appeared again in the firelight. “All good—she just likes to know where I’m up to with everything.” He turned to Eliza as he sat. “You’d love her. Just a wonderful wealth of wisdom lives in that woman.”

  Eddie stretched with a yawn. “Most tourists can’t believe we eat kangaroos, but they’re everywhere up here. Tomorrow we’ll show you how to find some bush tucker and give you a taste of the real outback.” He crossed his legs and laced his fingers behind his head. “There’s something about a fire that starts conversations. The fire can draw the truth out of you like it draws the cool from the evening, and your honesty can last as long as the fire is kindled. So why don’t you tell me your story?”

  Four sets of eyes peeked around the group as if testing the water before jumping in. Lincoln sensed his opportunity in the awkward silence and raised a finger. He held the eye of everyone around the fire to ensure the attention was absolute. He spoke over the crackle of burning wood. “I’ll go first. For me, life’s very good. Good money and great bonuses. Apartment in Nob Hill and a boat on the Bay.”

  The flames danced in Eddie’s eyes, as his gaze rested on Lincoln. “Do you enjoy it?”

  “Loving every minute of life at the moment.” Lincoln leaned back onto his swag, as an uncomfortable thought buzzed around him and jostled his pride.

  Every minute up until the letter.

  Andy’s voice drifted across the fire. “I’m a bit out of the loop here, but did you go back to Africa?”

  Lincoln jammed down the indignation that demanded to burst free. Why should he talk about his life when Andy clearly didn’t want anyone prying into his? “No. I moved on to other things.” Lincoln forced his gaze onto Andy to stop his glance from drifting to Eliza.

  In the crackling silence Eddie gestured to Bree. “So tell me your story.”

  Bree crept closer to the fire as she pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her. “We’re old friends from back in college, and we managed to get through unscathed. Eliza and I kept in touch over the years, but this is the first time we’ve all been together since.”

  Sloaney scratched at the earth with a stick. “So what do you do?”

  “I’ve got a part-time job at a recording studio, and when I’m not working, I’m Mom to two and wife to one.”

  Eddie cocked his head in the half-light. “Do you enjoy it?”

  “It’s okay. It pays a few bills, and at least I’m still near to music in Nashville. I had a dream to become a musician, but that hasn’t really worked out like I hoped.”

  Eddie shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. Do you enjoy being Mum to two and wife to one?”

  Bree brightened in the dancing orange light. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t swap my family for anything in the world.”

  Lincoln zoned out of the conversation. What would Eliza reveal when she played her hand? He shuffled the cards he might play next.

  “Great to hear about your little ones. Good for you.” Eddie’s exclamation brought Lincoln back to the crackle of the fire as he gestured to Eliza. “So tell me your story.”

&nbs
p; Eliza rolled her shoulders and fixed a gaze on Eddie. “I’m in fashion, second-in-charge with a fashion company in Los Angeles called Virgo.”

  Eddie poked at the coals and a shower of sparks burst from the ring of stones and flew up into the night. “Do you enjoy it?”

  Eliza hesitated, an answer half-escaping from behind tight lips, before she appeared to rein it back in. “Why do you keep asking that?”

  “I asked you all to tell me your stories, but so far all you’ve told me is what you do. That’s not your story; that’s your job. Your story is where you’ve come from, which has led to who you are.” He raised his hands in defense. “Please don’t think I’m having a go—we get so many people out here on a tour, and they all misinterpret the question. They start the trip telling us how important they are, but after a week out here, they’re suddenly rethinking what their story is or where they are on the road of life.”

  Eliza nodded with great enthusiasm. “I appreciate that. I really do. Well, if you want honesty rather than my LinkedIn profile, I’ve been asked to take over management of my company. I don’t want to, and I would like to know why. I feel like my life is lacking something—like I’ve reached the point where the wood and the trees are virtually indistinguishable. That’s the main reason I came.”

  Lincoln’s ears pricked. Now was the moment to insert himself back into this conversation. “I feel you, Lize. Actually when I think about it, work is moving so fast at the moment, it’s a lot like a runaway train.”

  Lincoln’s crafted honesty hung in the air unacknowledged as Eliza continued. “So that’s me. I’ve reached a point in career terms where I’m at the perfect place. People want to be where I am, but I don’t. That’s why I asked about this walkabout—” She paused with a headshake. “I’m sorry, this journey. It sounded like that sort of discovery would be perfect for me right now.”