by Peter Ness
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked her, coming up from behind.
‘Nothing important,’ Mother turned, and walked slowly past me back into the kitchen patting her large stomach. She rubbed at a swollen pink lump on the back of her stinging, burning and itchy neck. Suddenly, her eyes turned bright red — like lizard eyes with vertical yellow slits. Mother swung around to face me, abruptly pointed at me and snarled in a high pitched hissing sound.
‘You’re ours! The Prima cannot save you!’ she spat out in a rasping voice. Then, with a bewildered look Mom shook her head. ‘Sorry, but what just happened? Where was I?’ Mother bent over grasping at her stomach, folding over and trembling in excruciating pain.
‘Are you okay Mom?’ I asked, taking her by the hand. Mother looked at me in burning agony, deep line ruts forming on her brow. She then held her hands behind her back — where the kidneys are — composed herself and then stood upright stretching backward. A worm writhed in her neck. She winced. The pendant on my chest began spitting out green pulses of light.
‘Yes. No problem Hen,’ she panted now. Lines of pain formed in her brow again.
‘Mom, what’s that strange thing in your neck?’ I reached up and squeezed it. Then I pulled the object out. A green grub-like object with blue beady eyes splatted blood all over my fingers as it vaporized. The putrid vapor of sulfur splashed into me, my eyes watered and other my hand moved up to wipe them. Without warning, Mother turned her head sharply and grasped at my shoulder. I watched the pain slowly dissipate from her eyes. Then, I stared in wonderment as the red matted blood-filled cut on her neck miraculously healed itself. The pendant around my neck began to glow pale blue and then, as if satisfied now, it stopped glowing. With a plop it separated from my skin, and dangled from my neck. Taking it in my hand, I played with it. It was just a boring bronze coin.
‘Thank you Hen,’ Mother stood up regaining her composure. Walking over towards the stove now she began to hum a tune. She hadn’t seen the pendant flashing and seemed to forget what had transpired almost immediately.
In the other room, I heard Father growling on the phone to his brother Ashton.
‘Yes, it looks like someone has been killing and gutting our cows, again. You might want to get over here right now. Yes. What do you take me for, a fool? I called the police. Do I have Kirin’s number? Yes. I’ll phone him next. They’re drilling for brown coal on the other side of the Gullabilly National Park, near Telawopa. Maybe they saw something as well?’
At that precise moment, someone rapped loudly on the door. Rap! Rap! Rap!
‘Just a minute, I’ll get the door.’ Dad placed the handset down, walked into the kitchen area and then over and grated open the front door. ‘Look, if you’re selling religion you’re wasting your—. Oh! It’s just you Kirin,’ Dad said with mild surprise.
‘Jesse,’ Kirin smiled at him. ‘How are you my good friend?’
‘Well, don’t be a stranger, come on in. Have you eaten yet?’ Dad asked. ‘Jodi. It’s Kirin. Can you make Kirin something as well?’
‘No problem. Don’t he a stranger, come in!’ Mom yelled.
‘I came as soon as I heard,’ Kirin said. ‘I thought I’d better drop in for a quick chat.’
‘Heard, from whom? I’m still on the phone to Ashton. Anyway, come in and pull up a seat.’ Dad opened the door wider. ‘You must have read my mind. Do you have ESP? I was planning to call you next. Take a seat. I’ll be with you in a jiffy. Would you like a coffee? Jodi! When you’ve got time, can you get Kirin a coffee?’ Walking back into the master bedroom now, Dad picked up the phone. After briefly explaining to Ashton that Kirin was here, he hung up the receiver. As Dad walked back into the bedroom past me, the pendant suddenly flashed a brilliant pale green and merged, thwap, into my skin taking my breath away. I stepped backwards, surprise creeping across my face.
‘It looks like Dad has a darn grub in his neck too?’ I muttered to myself. Kirin’s head flipped around at me, and then his eyes slid across to Dad. Then, Kirin turned back slowly and sat down at the table, exchanging pleasantries with Mother as she poured him a coffee. She walked back to the sink and began wiping the dishes, talking about the weather now. Mother spied Jo wiping her hair with a towel in the bathroom, and lent her own head to one side in deep thought. Then she changed the topic to nightmares and things that go bump in the night.
I watched Kirin ears prick up and his face freeze like ice, as Mother recited her strange dream to him. He stirred his coffee slowly, first one way and then the other. Kirin nodded as I walked across the room doing up my belt. He placed his spoon gently onto the table and stared at me inquiringly.
‘Yeah, I know my hair’s still a mess,’ so I ruffled it. ‘Jo’s still got the brush. Jo!’
Dad ambled back into the kitchen. Sitting down at the table opposite Kirin, he scratched the red blister on the back of his burning neck.
‘Darn that’s sore,’ he grumbled. I walked up behind, placing my hand on his neck as if to massage him. Noticing the red glowing lump, I squeezed it. He flinched. Splat! Father’s eyes rolled white, in a trance. His dangling head sank, dropping with a thump onto the kitchen table. I abruptly stepped backwards. A pale green grub-like creature with beady blue eyes oozed out, dropping onto the table. Sprouting miniature hands it rolled over and peered up at me with its blue beady eyes questioningly, and began to grow in size, sprouting wings. It unfurled its newly-formed wings and flapped them with satisfaction. Just then, the dazzling green light of the pendant tore across its body. The creature choked. Clutching at its neck it vaporized slowly. Blood poured over my hands. I looked down at my hands again. Where was the blood? The table was squeaky clean. I looked at Dad’s neck. The wound slowly closed, eerily, starting to heal itself.
The hair rose on my neck and a cold trembling chill shot up my back. Taken aback, I glanced around hurriedly. The rest of the world had stopped moving, frozen in time. Everyone that is, except for Kirin. He just yawned. Picking up his spoon, he slowly and deliberately stirred his coffee back and forth. Then he looked me in the eyes, raising his eyebrows. Silently, he placed the spoon in the air. It floated. Then, Kirin picked up his cup of coffee, took a sip, and then placed it back down. He stared at me intently, cocking his head without even blinking. I scratched my chin, mouth agape. Kirin rubbed at his ear lobe, and then reaching over and picking up his cup again he took another sip of coffee. We exchanged glances, and then both flicked looks at Mother and at Jo. They stood frozen in the middle of what they were doing. Kirin scratched his head and looked at me again. Eventually he spoke.
‘Well, that is rather interesting. Don’t you think? Tell me, what just happened? I guess you stopped time, didn’t you Heni?’ Kirin looked quizzically at me.
I shrugged. What a stupid question. I was out of explanations. He frowned.
‘So, the Prima chose you?’ he asked, and then added, as if it was an after-thought. ‘Tell me Heni, do you believe it is possible to be in two places at once? Can you pass me the sugar?’
‘Who the heck are you?’ I wondered out loud. ‘The Prima—? What’s a Prima?’ I queried, sliding the sugar jar across the table.
‘You mean, you don’t know? Hmm,’ he pondered. ‘Now, that would be a first.’ Kirin lifted his hand to catch the bowl of sugar. His face and the rest of his body remained stationary, but as his arm moved an arc of images as it sliced the air.
‘This coffee is still too hot. Can you pass the milk?’ he asked. The same thing happened again. ‘See what I mean?’ Kirin said, and then his body was one again. He took the spoon from where it was floating, added more sugar and then more milk, stirring the spoon in both directions. Kirin let the spoon go, and it kept stirring the cup by itself. He smiled at my surprised face. Taking the spoon out of the cup now and laying it neatly on the table Kirin took a drink. ‘Ah! That’s better’. Kirin passed the milk and the sugar back to me. I slid them to their original position at the end of the table watching him down the rest of his cup of coffee
in a single gulp. Placing the cup down onto the table Kirin smiled and rubbed his ear again.
‘Okay. What’s going on?’ I asked. A noise distracted me. My head snapped around. Jo’s foot almost touched the ground, in ultra-slow motion. The trail of ever so slight movements froze like images flicking through the air, negatives of a film rolling jerkily, like when you slowly flip pages in a book. Mother’s head had turned slightly. Repetitions of her face were stacked, like a series of three dimensional photographic snapshots in space. Father’s head and arms were slightly off the table now, in a blurred silhouette against the wall.
I let out a gasp of disbelief. My jaw dropped and my eyes almost popped out of my head. The pendant snapped off of my skin in a flash and bounced tight on its string. Twang! With a flash, the world instantly bounced into full moving life. Then, just as if nothing had happened Father sat upright and picked up his coffee, taking a sip. Mother turned, kettle in hand, asking if Kirin wanted a top-up. She came over to the table, poured hot water into his cup, and passed him the coffee jar with a free hand.
Jo continued to skip across the room and jumped onto the sofa, holding a towel in one hand. As Jo began to wipe her hair with the towel she looked up. Huh? I thought she had done her hair? Noticing Kirin, she flashed him a smile saying good morning to him. Kirin raised his hand to acknowledge her and nodded greetings back, his brilliant white teeth catching the light.
‘Sorry, where were we?’ Father asked.
‘You were just telling me about the weather. You said it was going to be a fine day tomorrow,’ Kirin answered, raising his eyebrows at me slightly. I shook my head to wake up, convincing myself that it was all just a hallucination. Just then Kirin winked with a twinkle in his eye, with detached satisfaction, while otherwise not changing his serious expression. ‘Can you pass me the milk and sugar again please Heni?’ He deliberately placed stress or emphasis on the word “again”.
Chapter 21: Fright night
That same afternoon: Saturday, September 22, 1973
Later that day, Jo and I were in the garden adjusting Jo’s pushbike seat.
‘So. You gonna give Amanda back her hair pin, Heni?’ she asked. ‘You like Amanda a lot, don’t you? Yeah, I saw you playing with it.’
‘Yes. No. I dunno. I might,’ I replied, kicking a stone. ‘What’s it to you anyway?’
‘Everyone had the same dream,’ she said, ‘even Amanda. So she probably knows that you have it.’
‘Now you’re being weird Jo. Yes, everyone had the same dream,’ I repeated. ‘I know that. Everyone! Even our stinking cousins! You do the math! But everyone else had grubs in their neck. They won’t remember a thing. The only ones without grubs were you, me—.’
‘—and Amanda,’ Jo finished. ‘See? Told you so,’ Jo smiled, patting me on the back. ‘I would. If I were you,’ she hesitated, ‘you know, give it back.’ She analyzed her bike seat now. ‘Are you gonna ask her to the shin-dig next week? — The Shearing Shed Dash?’ She meant the dance that Uncle Ashton’s band was playing at in a week’s time.
My face clouded over and my shoulders sagged.
‘It’s a waste of time. I heard that she already has a boyfriend. She’ll just say “No”; that Charlie know-it-all bull-shitter Henton is apparently dating her!’ I spat out angrily, lashing out at another stone and missing, kicking my bike frame instead. ‘Ouch!’ I hopped around on one leg.
‘I don’t think so,’ Jo said. ‘Amanda said that she can’t stand Charlie. I thought that she wanted to go with you.’ Then Jo focused on her bike and her attitude changed. ‘Nope, it is still too high.’ Jo marked her waist with her hand. She abruptly glared at me. ‘I wanna have it, like, at this level!’ I wished she would stop being so darn bossy. That and so darn nosy. And those blue jeans with the thick brown belt and red shirt, they made her look like a Tom Boy.
Chatting noisily like old chums Dad and Kirin left the house trundling slowly past us.
‘Our Blue-Sky Mining contract drillers are moving their diamond and percussion mud drilling rigs, water trucks and camp to the next drill area,’ Kirin explained as they trundled past at a snail’s pace. ‘We need water so the drill rigs can inject it down the holes as lubrication to cool the drill stems and make drilling easier. The junior geologist is supervising. If he can’t find a decent place to drill a water bore he’ll come looking for me for guidance.’
‘I wonder who that is?’ Dad replied, pointing. A US military jeep wound itself slowly and carefully through the gate past the chook yard and cow shed, to avoid the chooks which refused to get out of its way. It churned up a faint wisp of sandy dust as it approached. ‘Hey! I know that fellow.’
As the jeep drew up Dad and Kirin stopped, waving to the man in his early thirties. Jo and I both recognized Tom Fargo immediately, recollecting him pulling up by the bus stop in this same open-topped jeep several days before. Tom nodded at us, jumping out. I nodded politely. Jo waved back. He wore the same brand of clothes.
‘Hi. I’m Tom,’ Tom said, introducing himself to Dad. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘That’s right. You’re the US Air Force test dummy pilot, aren’t you?’ Dad asked, smiling and then scratching his head. ‘A lot of water’s passed under the bridge since then.’
‘Yes. I’ve known Kirin for years. We grew up in the same country town in the USA, so knew each other when we were in our teens,’ Tom lied, answering the question on Dad’s lips. He smiled, flashing his teeth, disarming us all.
Well, that was his story anyway. I cocked my head, dubiously. They spoke for some time then headed towards our utility parked below the Morten Bay Fig tree.
#
The invisible bubble-entity which levitated above the barn flew silently down past the outside toilet towards the house. It hovered over Hani the Heni and the Jo girl who were bent down over those strange two-wheeled obsolete mechanical objects. And then, floating in for a closer inspection approached Tom, Jesse Hani and Kirin who were standing by the Dodge. The Hani boy glanced up at Sam, shuddering as a cold chill shot up his spine, seeing nothing.
The three men stood hunched over the front of the Dodge inspecting a rolled out map. The side of the map flapped in the gentle breeze. Instinctively, sensing the presence of the bubble-entity Kirin’s eyes flashed up, his eyes focusing on Sam’s image momentarily.
‘Small Elk?’ Kirin muttered under his breath. ‘What’re you doing here?’
Then he turned to open the door of the Dodge, and glanced at her briefly again. Rubbing the lobe of his ear now Kirin climbed in behind Tom. He slammed the door shut, still eyeing the bubble-entity off. Sam wondered where Little Hawk was going and decided to follow to find out. The dog jumped on the back of the dodge and spun around, growling at the invisible entity.
‘Hey! You! Yes, you sweet doggie. Stop growling and snapping! I’m not going to kill and eat you. Not just yet anyway,’ the bubble-entity spoke in a husky male voice.
‘You’re not eating anything today,’ the small girl shot back. ‘What a cute dog.’
‘Blackie! Sit!’ The tall Neanderthal man stuck his head out the open window and snapped at the dog.
‘Hey! Make room for me too,’ the young girl in the entity spoke. Then it giggled ‘Hi! I’m Sam I am. You must be Blackie?’ And then Blackie wagged his tail and sat down, head on paw, smiling at the girl in the bubble-entity.
#
London: Mid-August, 2012
‘Huh? Again?’ Andrea said tapping at the page, ‘See. Different color ink.’
‘Yep! It’s Tinkerbell again!’ Peter jumped up and down on the couch excitedly.
‘No it’s not! Her name is Small Elk or Sam. See. It says so right here.’
‘I wanna hear more. I wanna hear more.’ Peter jumped up and down.
‘Sit down! And do shut up!’ Andrea scolded. ‘If you don’t sit down then I’m not going to read anymore today. Okay! That’s it! I think its tea time anyway. Well, come on, stop being huffy Peter. We can read it after school
tomorrow anyway. Go wash your face and hands. Now! Just do it!’ The attic door slammed behind them sending a rush of air and a shiver up Andrea’s back. ‘Ooh! Someone just stepped on my grave,’ she shuddered.
#
The same day, Cassiopeia Farm: 1973
‘No! You can’t come. You two stay here,’ Dad ordered Jo and I, pointing. ‘Get off the back of the Dodge now, both of you. And stop complaining Jo.’ He slammed the tail gate shut after us. Then he and Tom climbed into our old Dodge utility. Kirin stood for a few seconds staring into space. He muttered something that seemed to imply that Blackie looked like a small elk. And then he too climbed in. Blackie traipsed around to the back of the utility and jumping onto the back of the Dodge let out a sharp yap, letting Dad know that he was safely on-board. And then, spinning around sharply and spying the entity, he snapped at it angrily, barring his teeth and growling menacingly. Abruptly, on hearing a soothing voice from a small girl and spying her image in the bubble-entity he wagged his tail and then lay down.
The vehicle clunked into gear and puttered off, emitting a fine trail of dust, heading down to the paddock to check out some mutilated cattle. They returned shortly afterwards. We had a barbeque lunch on the new patio after which Kirin and Tom said goodbye.
‘Well folks. Tom and I need to head off now. I need to head back to Telwopa to meet Schlumberger and to escort their down-hole logging crew to the coal exploration tenement,’ Kirin said, explaining that he also needed to check whether the new drill lines had been surveyed and pegged, and whether a sufficient number of drill pads had been bulldozed or graded. ‘And, Tom has to head back to Woomera Rocket Range again. No rest for the wicked, my friends.’