This girl was one of these children. Her father had been a man who had walked with camels and had deserted her mother. I didn't have a problem with this, though. She was one of us. We were all from the same mother, from the land, so what did it matter that her father was an invader? He was no longer around anyway, and her mother was a strong and noble person. She upheld the law. If I was to be joined with her I would have to care for her mother anyway. Her father was less important.
In the past, courting a woman and making arrangements with her family had required a long ceremonial procedure. Now we were forced to make somewhat more haste. I felt it important to take her away from this place as soon as possible. I planned to head back towards our homelands where there would be less chance of being disturbed by the invaders. There was much discussion among my tribesmen concerning her suitability for me. Eventually I was able to convince them that she was of great importance to me and that I wouldn't leave without her. They proceeded to make the necessary arrangements with her family. I was relieved to hear that my spears were of sufficient quality to appease them.
Thankfully, enough among them hadn't become totally reliant on the invaders for sustenance and could make use of my weapons. I had seen the terrible results of relying exclusively on the invaders offerings, particularly at this place. Some people had even taken to wearing the invaders' coverings. They had even begun to smell like them, and the odour was putrid. They resorted to begging from the invaders that rode on the great black beast. There was even talk that certain women had offered themselves up as payment in return for food or water. I was astonished at how quickly our people had resorted to this sort of bartering. There was no honour in this. It only served to convince me further of the importance of leaving as quickly as possible and taking this woman away with me.
We set up camp some distance away from the invaders' pathway. I didn't want the spirit woman around either, but the elders accepted her so I had little choice. In the evening we began the marriage ceremony. Even though I had been through it once before I had forgotten some of the things I was obliged to do. One part of the ceremony involved my wife's mother. By law she was entitled to hurl abuse at me and I was not permitted to respond. I was somewhat perturbed that she protested about my inability to provide for her and her daughter. Had she not seen my spears? In any case, I put up with her rantings for as long as was necessary. It was just the way. This arrangement did have its advantages, though. After absorbing the sting of her words we were never allowed to communicate directly with each other again. That would have to be done through her daughter. It would also be my responsibility to ensure that she and her daughter were well cared for.
Once the ceremony was over I decided to leave as soon as possible. I will set out to follow the example of my grandfather. I will endeavour to go forward and educate my children correctly. Perhaps in time things will change and the land will be returned to our care. I do fear for the damage that will be done before this occurs. I have seen it in this place and all the other places where we can no longer go. I will do what is in my power. I will try and avoid contact with the invaders as best I can. The only place that is still safe is our homelands, as long as we avoid their spirit men. I hope it will stay that way and not be taken over like the other places. It is a place I know well. Everything is familiar to me there. The way the seasons change, all six of them. The land speaks to me there. It doesn't whisper. It cries in a loud voice. I call back to it and it answers me. I don't know how long we will have but I will persist until the day comes when we must find another sanctuary or things improve. I have even heard that they have proposed a special area for us. A state, they call it. A state of what? I can't see how that would work. The land is for all of us and should not be divided. It is a sorry situation, but somehow I don't feel that all hope is lost. I have found a new partner and we will face the future together.
7
A Change of Plans
Mens Business
Billy woke for the third time in as many days in a strange bed. He was relieved that at least one thing was consistent in all this. It was reassuring that it was still the same bed as the night before. He was beginning to feel like a nomad. It felt good. No responsibilities, no ties; just taking everything as it came; always on the move, goalless, yet not completely without direction. He began to think that he could get used to living this way. He didn't want to give up his obligations and responsibilities altogether, but having the freedom to decide when to act upon them was certainly more relaxing. He was surprised how quickly he was adapting to this new, laid-back approach.
He felt content in this new bed and with the feeling of comfort it offered. It was soft and luxurious, and he felt incredibly secure ensconced in it and its covers. He didn't feel like getting up; it was far too safe and warm. He was of the mindset that if anything were to break through the bedroom door then he would just pull the covers up over his head and ignore it. He lay there with his head enveloped by the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. Splattered across it were what appeared to be countless streaks and spots of dried blood. Scattered between the splatters were the remnants of a number of insects, mainly mosquitoes. He squinted and imagined it was a star map. A picture of some far-off constellation. He stopped squinting. It was beginning to make his forehead throb. On further inspection it looked as if someone had fought a private battle with a swarm of insect invaders. Judging by the amount of blood it was clear that the victim had not escaped entirely unscathed. It was also apparent that the bugs had not faired at all well and had suffered enormous losses.
Very gradually, and with some regret, he forced himself to get up and take in his new surroundings. With some effort he flung back the covers and swung his legs out of bed. His head thumped harder, reminding him of the events of the previous evening. He sat for a moment on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. He gingerly ran his fingers over the contours of the bandages covering his forehead. He hoped that one morning, in the not-too-distant future, he would wake up and not have to deal with a headache, be it self-inflicted or not. He scanned the room for his clothes and saw them neatly folded on a chair in the corner. A strong smell permeated the room. Somewhere in the house something was frying. It smelt good and his stomach growled in anticipation of nourishment. He stood up and padded across the room in his socks. On the way he passed the dresser. He stopped and laid his hands on top of it. He waited, thinking that there may be a surge of some kind of spiritual energy. There was nothing. Whatever had sat there the night before had left no trace. He searched the dresser and floor for a clue. No feathers today. Nevertheless, he remained convinced that what he had seen the night before was real. Physical evidence was no longer necessary.
He pulled on his clothes and noted dried blood down the front of his shirt. One of his first goals should be finding a washing machine. His attire was showing distinct signs of overuse, and Billy toyed with the idea of ditching them altogether. Starting with a new set of clothes might be a better option. He quickly pushed the thought aside. One obligation he certainly had to deal with was to find a phone and call his girlfriend. Once he had dealt with that he could move on to more mundane things, like cleanliness and personal hygiene. He took one last look at the bed and bid it a silent and regretful farewell. It had been warm and comforting, not unlike the womb, he mused.
He stealthily cracked open the bedroom door and stuck his head out. A long corridor ran past his room, with a series of doors on either side. In one direction it led to and terminated at the front door of the house. In the other lay an aromatic pathway. The smell of freshly fried food. His nostrils twitched. The choice was simple and for once he didn't need a moment to deliberate. He marched resolutely towards the smell. A small step at the end of the corridor led directly into a kitchen. Billy missed the step and set one foot down awkwardly, twisting his ankle and sending him stumbling into the room. He caught his balance on the kitchen table, causing it to slide across the
floor, its legs screeching along the tiles. Doug, who was standing at the sink, whirled around in alarm.
'Whoa, watchit.'
'Sorry.'
'It's ok. Would have warned you about the step if I'd heard you coming.' He paused, taking Billy in. 'Fancy a bit o' tucker?'
Billy nodded enthusiastically.
'Take a seat then.'
Billy pulled out a metal-framed chair with no rubber feet. It also screeched across the floor, sending a shiver up his spine. Doug shot him another irritated glance but decided against reprimanding him again.
'Did you have a good sleep?'
'Yeah, great thanks. Head's a bit worse for wear, though.'
'I'm sure it'll heal. You might be feeling it for a few days, though. Took the trouble of patching it up for you last night.'
'I noticed.' Billy reached self consciously up to his forehead. 'Thanks.'
'No worries.'
Doug turned to the stove, scooped two eggs out of a spitting frypan and slid them onto a chipped enamel plate. Without moving his feet, he leant over to the table and unceremoniously skidded the plate across to Billy.
'You not having any?'
'Nah, already eaten.'
Billy spied a clock hanging above the stove and saw to his surprise that it was three-thirty.
'Wow! It's late.'
'You’re right about that. Thought I'd let you sleep it off, though. I was hoping the smell of eggs'd wake you up.'
Billy beamed. 'Well, it worked.'
They sat in silence while Billy ate. It was his first decent meal in quite some time and he ravenously wolfed down the eggs. Doug studied him. He wondered if he should probe Doug about the significance of Pidgin, but as the food charged his body any lingering thoughts about the night before melted away. When he had finished, he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin.
'Hit the spot?'
'You bet,' said Billy. 'You don't live at the community?'
'No, too busy here. I do head out there once a week, though. I'm working on a dictionary of our language.'
'Oh?'
'For a long time I was pretty messed up. Alcohol was the big problem. Kind of took over my life and I totally forgot where I came from. I even forgot the traditional ways I'd been taught as a child. Thankfully, now that I've stopped wetting my brain, those memories are slowly coming back. The community helped me get off it. It's a dry zone, you know. Once I came out of the haze and felt strong enough I moved back here. I've gotta tell you, though, one drop and I'd be back into that stuff. That's why I decided to keep myself busy and do something useful. Keeps me clean.'
'And that's the dictionary?'
'Well, yeah, that's one of the things I do. I think it's important to preserve some things while we still can. We need to educate our people so we can fend for ourselves. That's my big hope, anyway. As long as one of us keeps it alive, the culture will survive. The English used to think we were a dying race. Maybe some things are no more, but we’re far from dead. We’re still here. Some of the languages are also no more, but a lot still survive. I felt it was important to keep ours going. That’s why I'm helping make a dictionary. Today our language group is becoming one of the strongest because of this. It wasn't until I started to educate myself that I really began to learn things.'
He started chuckling to himself.
'At school they taught me about Captain Cook and the Endeavour and other ships coming over the water. It didn't make any sense to me. I grew up in the middle of the desert and they were teaching me about ships and the sea. Things I'd never seen. How was I supposed to relate to that? I hadn't even seen the sea then, let alone a ship. What use are those things here? I was at school for five years and now really regret it. It's time I lost when I should've been learning the traditional ways. Education and bureaucracy are destroying everything. European education is breaking down our cultural identity. Bureaucracy is limiting everything we do. Now at least I can choose what I want to learn. I can educate myself the right way. I have found out so many things. We've had so many heroes. People that fought for equal pay for us in the Pilbara in the nineteen forties. Tjandamurra, who waged a guerrilla war against police in the Kimberleys. There are so many stories. They give me the strength to do what I am doing.'
As Doug spoke Billy's mind began to wander. It dawned on him how very little he knew about his own ancestry. It was a side of Australia he had never experienced. He had grown up near the coast and in urban surroundings. The man across the table had grown up in a completely different environment.
Doug sensed that he was losing his audience and cut his story short.
'But that's enough about me. What's your story? Where are your people from?'
'People?'
'Yeah, your language group, your tribe. You’re a Nunga aren't you?'
'Huh?' Billy was perplexed. There was that word again. Rob had used it as well: people.
'You've got Aboriginal ancestry don't you? That fella wouldn't have shown up last night if you were white.'
'Who?'
'Um, the fella in your room.'
'Pidgin?'
'He didn't tell me his name, but yeah, that's who I mean.'
'My mum was Aboriginal. Don't know much about her, though. She died when I was really young.'
'Sorry to hear that.'
'It's ok. My dad took good care of me.'
They sat for a moment in silence. Billy's demeanour changed as he thought about his parents. 'He's gone too.'
'Your dad?'
'Yeah, they both got cancer.'
Again there was silence. Billy stared at his empty plate and studied the remnants of egg yolk drying on it.
Doug changed the subject. 'What brings you up this way?'
Billy sighed and looked up from his plate. 'Series of coincidences, I guess. To be perfectly honest, I'm not really sure how I got here. I should be getting back home, though. I'm supposed to get married.'
Doug leant into the table and sucked air in quickly through his teeth. Billy noted that he was missing one of his front teeth and wondered if it was a battle scar from his drinking days. 'Married?'
'Yeah. If I've got the days right, I think I may have left someone standing at the altar.'
Doug leaned back again in his chair and exhaled through pursed lips. 'That's not good.'
'No, not at all; but I'm sort of having doubts about the whole thing, to tell the truth.'
'Well, you can't just not do nothin'. Maybe you'd better give her a call?'
'That was the plan. I suppose I've gotta face the music sometime. Just not sure what the hell I'm gonna say.'
Doug studied Billy's face. 'I suggest you tell her the truth. If she really cares about you she'll give you the time to think. Too many people get married these days without thinking it through, and then it doesn't last. You gotta be sure 'bout what you’re doing. I should know. I've messed up enough in the past.'
Billy was buoyed by Doug's words. He stared down at his empty plate again for a moment before looking up at Doug. 'Do you think I could use your phone?'
Doug shook his head. 'Really like to help you there, but it's been disconnected. Normally pretty good with those things but just plain forgot to pay the bill. There's a phone box around the corner, though. I used it yesterday, so it should be working as long as no one's trashed it again.'
'Ok, then I'll go make the call.'
Doug's face was brightened by a broad grin. 'Good, better get it over and done with, eh?'
Billy returned an insecure smile. 'Yep.'
He made a move to slide back his chair but the look on Doug's face reminded him not to inflict more scraping on the tiles. He twisted sideways in the chair and stood up using the table as leverage.
'I'll see you soon.'
'You can use the back door,' said Doug, indicating behind him with a flick of his thumb. 'The front one's a bit jammed so you better come back the same way.'
Billy's body hung in mid stride for a moment. He nodded to D
oug, took a deep breath and managed to coax himself into forward motion. Doug gave him a big smile of encouragement, and then Billy flung open the screen door and stepped outside.
Breaking the Engagement
Beth was ropable. She screamed down the receiver. 'How the hell could you do this to me?'
Having finally summoned up the courage to ring his fiancée, Billy was now already regretting the decision. He knew beforehand that he was going to get a drubbing but still wasn't entirely prepared for her ferocious reaction. At first she had been genuinely concerned about him but her frustration had got the better of her. She had called his friends and nobody had known his whereabouts. They had tried to reassure her that he would turn up. It was now clear that this was not going to happen.
'Beth, I ...'
'I'm guessing you thought it was quite ok just to up sticks and leave me sitting here with all the arrangements. Do you have any idea how many people are crying for your blood here? Good thing we were doing this in my parents' backyard and not in a church. We managed to postpone everything, but it's costing them a fortune. I hope you're satisfied.'
As she spoke her voice gradually rose further in pitch and volume. Billy moved the handset away from his ear to reduce the onslaught. It felt heavy in his hand. It was a solid piece of plastic and would have made a good weapon if it wasn't securely attached to the box.
He was in a metal-framed, glass telephone box around the corner from Doug's house. Thankfully it hadn't taken very long to find it. After the cool interior of Doug's house, it had been a shock to step out into a very hot day. The sun had beat down heavily on him as he made his way down the street. Upon spotting the box, he had rushed to it and jumped in, expecting it to provide welcome shelter from the onslaught from above.
Loreless: A Novel Page 8