The Opal Desert

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Not yet. It’s hard to part with a beauty when it comes along. Like women. Go on, Kev, show her.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right, you don’t have to,’ began Anna, not wanting to be put in a position of trust. She’d heard how secretive miners were about their discoveries. But the men were obviously quite chuffed by their find, and Kev pulled his fist from his pocket and opened his hand.

  Anna craned forward and caught her breath as she saw the dazzling stone in Kev’s palm.

  ‘Can I touch it?’ she asked in a low voice, quite awestruck. She’d seen rough stones with glimpses of colour in them before and Mick had sawn open a Yowah nut to show her two half centres of intricate earthy-toned patterns shot with pinpricks of gold and red. But this stone, nicely polished, was the size of a bantam’s egg. ‘That’s amazing. It’s so big. What will you do with it? It’d be a shame to break it up, wouldn’t it.’

  ‘It’s up to the jeweller who buys it what he does with it. We just want to enjoy it for as long as we can,’ said the other man.

  ‘Have you got more like this?’ asked Anna, then realised she’d overstepped the mark.

  ‘Ah, that’d be telling.’

  ‘It’s very beautiful. I hope you find more just like it.’

  ‘That’s the idea. It’s taken us years to find this one.’ Kev grinned. ‘Gave up good jobs in the city to do this.’

  ‘Are you staying here for long?’ asked Anna.

  ‘No, we’re heading to Andamooka next.’

  ‘Good luck,’ said Anna.

  Anna went back to the bar, aware that Mick and several of the men were looking at her with interest.

  ‘So?’ asked Mick. ‘Any good?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Anna. ‘It was pretty but if that’s all you find after years of digging I wouldn’t be doing it.’

  The men turned back to their beer and conversation.

  But Anna couldn’t stop thinking about the opal she’d just been shown. It was the first really good opal she’d seen and suddenly she understood their attraction. The way the two men gazed at that stone, caressing it, turning it in the light, the fact they’d given up good jobs to find it. Now she saw the hypnotic allure that a beautiful opal could have on some people.

  After the pub closed, as Anna emptied the ancient dishwasher, she told Mick that she’d found the opal the two men had shown her to be utterly stunning.

  Mick was wiping down the sink. ‘Wish I’d seen it. Wonder where they’ve been digging. Must be some way out, probably at Tango Ridge. Haven’t seen them round here before.’

  ‘Where does the opal you’re always working on out the back come from?’ asked Anna, who’d seen the buckets of potch and rocks in the shed behind the pub.

  ‘My ex missus and me dug a lot. The good stuff she took with her when she left, but I’ve still got a bit. Some of it’s payment for bar bills.’ He grinned. ‘So far the drinkers are ahead.’

  ‘Seeing that stone tonight, it’s got me fascinated,’ said Anna.

  ‘Be careful! You’ll get bitten by the bug.’ Mick laughed.

  ‘I don’t think so. I don’t want to go and dig it up. I’d just like to see some good stones, all the different varieties,’ said Anna.

  ‘I bet Shirley would love to talk to you about opals. She might even show you some of hers. And you should see Ingrid’s collection! Some weird jewellery but you’re kinda arty, so you might like it.’

  ‘I’ve never been called arty before,’ said Anna.

  ‘Well, you look it. You’re different from girls we normally see out here. You keep to yourself, and that’s all right,’ he added quickly. ‘A lot of people out here keep something of themselves to themselves.’

  ‘I’ve noticed. No last names, huh? Tell me, what do you know about Davo?’

  Mick shrugged. ‘He’s been around for a bit. Built that tour business up a few years back with Shirley’s help. Think he said he was from the coast, used to be a surfer.’

  ‘He told me he was from Melbourne.’

  ‘He might have grown up there. Bit of a rough diamond. But he’s helpful to Shirley. I guess because she helps him out.’

  ‘Financially? I don’t think much of him at all,’ said Anna.

  ‘He’s not in your league, Anna. But you can’t blame a fellow for wanting to chat you up. Anyway, he’s harmless I reckon. You just do your own thing.’ Mick rinsed the cloth he’d been using and wrung it out. ‘D’ya mind if I ask why you spend a lot time out there jogging, running? You don’t drink either. You sure are keeping fit and watching your figure, if you don’t mind my saying.’

  ‘That’s okay, Mick. It’s something I’ve always done and it’s part of who I am. Been running since I was little.’

  ‘Is it a hobby or what?’

  ‘Way of life, I guess,’ said Anna. ‘I don’t feel right if I don’t run every day. I used to train really solidly. But everyone needs a break now and then, right?’

  ‘Right. I hope you stick around a bit, Anna. You’re a good worker and a real asset here. While you’re here, you should get out of town a bit. The area around here can be a pretty magic place. It gets under your skin.’

  ‘Shirley offered me her car. I might go exploring.’

  ‘Good idea. You gotta see the lake.’

  Even though it was hot, Anna jogged up the hill to Shirley’s dugout.

  ‘You need a cold drink, my girl,’ said Shirley, seeing Anna’s perspiring face as she entered the dugout.

  Anna dropped her cap onto the table and helped herself to the jug of cold water in Shirley’s fridge. She had begun to call in on an almost daily basis and Shirley had made her feel that this was her second home.

  ‘Anna, why don’t you keep the car down at the pub? Treat it as your own for as long as you want,’ suggested Shirley.

  ‘What, and miss out on running up your hill?’ said Anna. ‘I’ll get lazy.’

  ‘Running all the time; just what are you training for?’ asked Shirley. ‘Can’t you put your feet up and read a book?’

  ‘I wish, but we’re pretty busy most of the time.’

  Shirley watched Anna drink the iced water. ‘But you must be training for some event, or why bother keeping to such a schedule?’ she asked.

  Because Shirley’s tone was gently serious and it encroached on the unspoken agreement of not probing her personal life, Anna hesitated before answering.

  ‘I’m trying to train myself. It’s a head thing more than a physical thing. I was a serious athlete but it got to a point where my coach and I were clashing because I wasn’t doing what he wanted. It was a question of tactics.’

  ‘You mean you didn’t agree with his game plan?’ asked Shirley.

  ‘I didn’t disagree,’ said Anna slowly, ‘but it’s something I have to get my head around. It’s about pacing myself, holding back, using judgment to beat the other runners when all I want to do is ignore them and run flat out.’

  ‘You don’t strike me as someone who goes flat out, but someone who’s more cautious,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Except when it comes to running,’ said Anna.

  ‘Is that what you were planning to do? To become a serious athlete? What do your coach and your family think about your running away out here?’ asked Shirley.

  ‘I told them I was backpacking and doing odd jobs to support myself.’ Anna got up to put her glass on the sink.

  ‘Is being here helping you?’ asked Shirley.

  Anna turned and faced the older woman. ‘Yes, in a strange way. I like being by myself and being myself and not having any pressure put on me. But it’s not just my running tactics that are the problem. I’m sick of having to take poorly paid jobs, just so that I can train. Sometimes I think it would be nice to earn a decent wage, but if I get a job that doesn’t give me flexible hours, I would have to give up running. And I need money to go to the best training schools. So that’s another decision I have to make.’

  ‘Yes, you do have a few dilemmas, don’t you? We all
need time out, as they say, on occasion. But that’s all it should be, a space between decisions. It becomes very easy to drift. You see it happen out here and before you know it, you’ve lost a great chunk of your productive life.’

  ‘Is that what happened to you, Shirley?’ asked Anna, hoping she didn’t sound rude.

  ‘At my age one can look back with some perspective. I have no regrets, I had a great career, I found the love of my life. But you’re right. I could have made other choices about my life.’

  ‘I understand what you’re saying, but I haven’t been here very long yet,’ Anna replied.

  ‘I know. I have a good friend, Kerrie. I hope you’ll meet her one day. She suddenly became widowed at quite a young age, and she ran away out here, just like you have, to avoid making a lot of decisions. But she’s now faced her new life and has started to make choices. All I am suggesting is that you don’t leave things too late.’

  ‘I won’t. Shirley, I value your opinion, and I know you’re right. I do have to decide, but not just now,’ said Anna.

  ‘And while you’re making up your mind, I’m very happy to have your company whenever you feel like hanging out with an old duck like me.’

  Anna went to Shirley and leant over her chair, giving her a spontaneous hug. ‘I think you’re fantastic.’

  Shirley patted her hand, knowing this was a deeply felt gesture. Anna was not one for superficial platitudes. ‘Where did you want to take the car today?’

  ‘Now that I’m feeling more confident driving a manual, I thought I’d go to the famous lake everyone talks about.’

  ‘And so you should. I suggest you take the car out very early in the morning and go and watch the sunrise. It’s very special out there.’

  ‘What a great idea.’

  ‘I’ll draw you a mud map. Have you got a camera you can take?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I’ll photograph it up here.’ Anna tapped her head.

  ‘And you said you’d like to see some really good opals after the opal you saw in the bar the other night, so I pulled out a couple of my favourites for you.’

  Shirley shuffled over to the desk in her little office and returned with a small toffee tin, which she opened. She lifted out several rolls of tissue paper, which she unrolled and placed on the kitchen table.

  Anna gasped at the sparkling opals lying there, their liquid play of colours shifting in the light. ‘They’re gorgeous! And so many different colours! Did you dig these up? How exciting to unearth something like this,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘It certainly is. I remember the first opals my father and I ever found together . . . And you never become immune to the excitement. Every opal captures you, because each one is so individual. These ones have been cut and polished. I’ve got others that aren’t, so they’re not as spectacular but they are still beautiful because Australian opals are the best in the world. They don’t break so readily when they are being worked and they are easier to find than opals in other countries. These opals are my superannuation.’ She smiled.

  Anna held one out to admire it. ‘What a stunning piece of jewellery this would make. I’ve always thought of opal as pretty boring, old lady and tourist souvenir stuff.’

  ‘Yes, the old myths still prevail,’ sighed Shirley.

  ‘What myths?’ asked Anna.

  ‘That opals are unlucky. In the early days a story was put out, here and abroad, about opals being bad luck. It was a deliberately malicious campaign because opals had become as valuable as diamonds. So if someone died in an accident, for instance, it would be said that they were wearing opal jewellery and so on. There’s a little novel of Sir Walter Scott’s, Anne of Geierstein, which I have in my library in there. The story makes it seem as though the heroine dies because of a magic opal. But if you read further it’s perfectly clear that it was not the case. She was poisoned. Nevertheless, apparently the idea of an evil magic opal made opal prices plummet.’

  ‘Spin doctors at work,’ said Anna. ‘But I think that really good opals, like yours, are stunning. I’ll start saving for one.’

  ‘Keep your eye open in the pub, there’s sure to be some miner who’s hard up and who’ll sell you one. You just have to recognise what’s a good opal.’

  ‘That’s the hard part, I s’pose. Thanks for showing me yours.’

  Anna took Shirley’s advice and told Mick that she was going to drive out early the next day and watch the sunrise over Opal Lake.

  The sky was mother of pearl pink and silver as she saw the lake in the distance. In this light it looked like a large expanse of shimmering water and Anna caught her breath. But when she drove through the scrubby hills to its perimeter she saw that it was nothing but windswept sand. Then, as she followed the track marked on Shirley’s map, she was dismayed to see flickering lights and a campfire ahead of her. She pulled the car up and saw that pup tents and a trestle table had been set up and people were moving around. It was obviously a group of tourists who’d spent the night.

  She was disappointed at having to share what she’d been led to believe was an idyllic isolated spot, but even more so when she recognised Davo’s Best Tour bus on the edge of the campsite. She was about to put the car into reverse and find another part of the lake when a figure appeared beside her window and rapped on the roof of the car, making her jump in alarm.

  Davo’s grinning face looked at her though the car window. ‘Surprise, surprise. Are you lost?’

  ‘No, I’m not. I came out to watch the sunrise.’

  ‘So did we. Want to join us? We’ve got coffee and bacon and toast happening.’

  ‘Thank you. I don’t want to interrupt your guests.

  I really wanted a one-on-one experience.’

  ‘With me?’

  ‘No. The sunrise.’

  ‘You’re a weird chick, y’know that?’

  ‘Think what you like.’

  Davo remained leaning on the car until Anna began to reverse. Then he stood looking at her but she couldn’t read his expression as his back was to the light. She would have liked to ask him which was the best way to go, but she didn’t want to have to ask him for any help at all.

  She managed to find another way down to the lake and parked so she was facing east. She got out of the car and walked through the soft sand of the dunes and sat at the edge of the strange lake, gazing at the vista that stretched away to the horizon.

  ‘Thank you, Shirley. This was worth the trip,’ she said to herself. She was so glad she had found her way here without the annoying Davo and his bunch of tourists that she almost smiled to herself. She realised that she was identifying with the locals as someone who felt protective and appreciative of this special area.

  Most tourists who came through Opal Lake rarely stayed more than a day. Sandwiched between White Cliffs and, further afield, Broken Hill there was nothing much to see or do. The place was a breather between stops and its isolation held few attractions for most people.

  But Anna was not put off by that or even the lack of basic facilities and entertainment in Opal Lake. Her earlier irritation slipped away as she sat at the edge of the strange, empty lake and watched the great glowing orb rise, red and golden, and light the morning sky. There was magic here and she understood why Shirley had gently pushed her to see it.

  She studied Shirley’s rough map. She was sitting at one end of the lake but she now understood its topography. She was determined to find the time to explore further, and perhaps find a narrow section where she could cross from one wilder shore to another. It was a large and barren place. It fascinated her, and she had a sense of what drove those early explorers to cross inhospitable landscapes, searching for a mysterious inland sea or places where people could settle, with dreams of prospering, and begin anew.

  She drove cautiously back the way she’d come and was pleased to see that Davo’s tour group had packed up and moved on. She stopped and walked to where they’d camped. The site was perfect and gave a full view of the lake. The campfire had been
doused with sand. The ground was churned from the vehicle and human activity, and there was some rubbish left behind. Anna scooped it up into a large plastic bag and threw it into the back of the car. This was such a pristine place she wanted to obliterate all reminders of Davo and his tour.

  When she returned the car to Shirley’s, she found that Pam was visiting the dugout. A pot of tea was quickly produced and both women wanted to know what Anna thought of the lake.

  ‘It’s hard to explain. I don’t think I can put the feeling, or the picture, into words. Anyway, you know it, so I don’t have to,’ said Anna.

  Pam chuckled. ‘That’s a good cop-out. But you’re right. It is hard to describe. It’s sort of like a blank canvas, so you can read it lots of ways.’

  ‘I was sorry that Davo and a group were there, because I wanted to have the place to myself,’ said Anna. ‘And they left some rubbish behind.’

  Pam rolled her eyes. ‘Typical Davo. He never does things properly. No wonder his business is struggling. Davo doesn’t do enough really to enthuse people about this area. I’ve heard of visitors going out there and coming back complaining, “What is there to see . . . ? Nothing.”’

  ‘Which reminds me . . . I have some news for you, Pam,’ announced Shirley. ‘It’s about Kerrie. You know the sketches she did out at the lake when she was here the first time? When you took her there?’

  ‘I remember. The ones that inspired her to go back and start painting?’ said Pam.

  Shirley nodded, looking extremely pleased. ‘She did finish them. And . . . she’s been invited to show them! It’s such a feather in her cap and will boost her along no end.’

  ‘Wonderful. At a gallery in Sydney?’ asked Pam.

  ‘No! The big art exhibition in Broken Hill next month. It’s a huge thing. She’s quite knocked out by it.’

  ‘So she’ll be up here and come and see us?’ said Pam.

  ‘Would she dare not?’ laughed Shirley. She turned to Anna. ‘You’ll love Kerrie. I’ve told you about her.’

  ‘You know, I think I should go over to the Hill and be there for the opening,’ said Pam.

  ‘That’s a terrific idea. Take Anna. I’ll see Kerrie when she gets here. She’s coming to stay for a couple of days. Said she had a surprise,’ said Shirley.