Borderland, p.15
Borderland, page 15
‘Mum’s not going anywhere,’ I said sharply.
Norman looked into my eyes and nodded slowly. ‘Everything goes back to the land in time.’
I forced my thoughts away from Mum. ‘I thought I was losing my mind, Norman.’
‘You’re not, and I’m sorry it had to be like this. I don’t have all the answers. The world has changed. We can stop the mining in other ways. . .that creature puts everyone in danger and, from what I saw last night and what you’ve told me, he’s come through.’
‘How do we stop him?’
‘I’m not sure we can. . .but the Bora Ring, where boys are initiated, is a strong link to the Dreaming and the creature will come to us there. Then, hopefully, we can force him back.’
‘Will Tabitha be OK?’
‘That creature puts everyone on the land in danger.’
‘And if we do force the spirit back. Will everything go back to normal?’
Norman shook his head a couple of times. ‘Questions, questions. Get some rest. We got a big day tomorrow.’
I didn’t feel tired at all but as my mind raced back and forth over everything Norman had said, my eyes became heavy and I drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.
23
The sun broke and Norman and I walked to the homestead for breakfast. I snuck into my room to freshen up before seeing everyone. My pills were on the bedside table. I picked up the white plastic bottle and rattled it; it was half full. I didn’t need any more convincing that the meds were useless and my ‘hallucinations’ were real. I threw the pills in the bin before showering and putting on fresh clothes.
Jenny barged into the room just after I dressed, startling me. Her hair was messy and her eyes wild. ‘I just saw Norman outside. Where were you? Are you OK? What happened? Is it over?’
‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ I lied, and prompted her to take a seat on the bed.
The sun was blazing and the room was getting hot. I opened the window and felt a warm breeze on my skin before telling Jenny everything that happened.
‘I’m glad you have Norman,’ she said, and sighed. ‘I feel so useless right now.’
‘Don’t be hard on yourself.’
Jenny’s eyes suddenly fixed on the picture of the lighthouse in the raging storm, hanging on the wall. ‘What am I going to do, Jono?’
The realisation that her life up to that point may be a lie had taken its toll. I could tell she hadn’t slept. Likely through worry for me, as well as the possibility she may have to redefine herself and start again.
‘I don’t know. Best to figure it out when we get back,’ I said. It was hard to see Jenny go through this. I wished I could help more, but it was something that only Jenny and her mother could begin to untangle.
Jenny looked into my eyes and nodded.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. ‘If I don’t make it back. . .You’ll be there for Mum, right?’
Jenny’s expression softened. ‘Of course. But don’t talk like that,’ she said, before hugging me for a long while. ‘Let’s get you outside. Everyone’s been worried. I didn’t know what to tell them.’
I put on a show of calm as I walked onto the verandah. Breakfast was laid out and everyone was getting stuck into the bacon, eggs, and watery coffee.
‘Here he is,’ said Keith, getting up and shaking my hand. ‘Glad you’re alright, mate.’ He cleared his throat to grab everyone’s attention. ‘There’s been a bunch of idiots breaking into homesteads across the basin. Unfortunately, young Jonathan here was around when they came in.’
Norman nodded. A smirk formed on Jenny’s face. Whether or not the rest believed Keith’s explanation didn’t bother me. There were pats on the back and everyone saying they were glad I was OK.
Sid rang the mine and played down events. Then he addressed the group. ‘As you know, Tabitha’s in no condition to be leading the rest of the shoot. After talking with Mick, we’ve decided to push forward and finish up today with him in charge.’
Mick puffed out his chest and smiled.
Jenny looked irritated. ‘Why are we continuing?’ she asked. ‘Shouldn’t we get Tabitha to a doctor?’
‘This is important stuff for the community,’ said Sid, rubbing his hands together. ‘We haven’t come this far to stop now. Possum has assured me that Tabitha’s on the mend. She’ll take her back to the campsite and we’ll meet up with them after work. We’ll head back to Gambari together tomorrow morning.’
The fracking was destroying the land. I looked to Norman, expecting some kind of reaction, but he just stood with his hands on the rail, looking out over the hot, dry desert.
‘Let’s pack up and get this show on the road,’ said Sid.
I quickly ate a piece of toast and drank a cold black coffee before heading to Tabitha’s room to check on her before getting ready to leave.
Tabitha was alone. The air in the room was stagnant and streaks of light came through gaps in the drawn curtains. I sat down on a chair beside her and she stirred.
‘Good to see you,’ she said, rubbing sleep from her eyes. There was colour back in her face, but her chest still sounded wet.
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.
‘Oh, you know, like I’ve been through a washing machine.’
I smiled. It was nice she was able to joke.
‘Pass my phone?’ she asked, pointing to the dressing table across the room with her bits and pieces on top.
She hastily turned it on and scrolled through photos, finding one of her daughter. She touched the cracked screen and paused a moment, before asking, ‘Do you have any idea why this is happening?’
I told her about Wudun, the sick dingo spirit, Possum, and Norman. That I was Gunggari, and we were next in line to help protect the land. I told her that we were going to the Bora Ring to try and push Wudun back into the Dreaming. I told her everything I knew and she looked at me wide-eyed and nodded throughout.
‘Last night, after you went missing, Possum told me a little, but now I understand more.’
‘It’s a lot to take in.’
‘That’s the understatement of the century,’ she said, and rubbed her arms as though a cold gust had just passed over. She glanced at the window and asked me to open the curtains. Tabitha looked small with her face in the light and her body under the covers. ‘He raised me by himself, my father,’ she continued. ‘He’s a good kind man and I love him with all my heart. . .It’s been the worst experience of my life to watch him suffer. I hope he finds peace.’
‘Our parents aren’t going anywhere, Tabitha. And we don’t need to be what Possum, Norman and Wudun want us to be.’
Tabitha shook her head, ‘You don’t understand. My whole life I’ve known my place, even if I had never been on Country, and everything I’ve done was to push mob into positions to make change. To know now. . .to be connected to my Country and Dreaming like this. . .is an honour I would never refuse.’ She spoke with passion.
In that moment, the weight of what was being presented to us bore down on me. I knew my place in the world. And yet, it felt as though my identity was something others decided. I pushed the thought aside. ‘Anything else you can tell me about what happened when you were attacked?’ I asked.
Tabitha shuddered. ‘I felt so much anger in that spirit,’ she said, and looked up at the ceiling. ‘I dreamed I was in the river again and tried to fight it off. But, in the flames, it pulled itself through the barrier. When I woke, I was in the desert alone and started walking.’
All that could be heard in the stillness that followed was the wind buffeting the window. Norman was right. The spirit had come through. Tabitha coughed harshly, breaking the silence.
‘This is ridiculous. We should stop shooting and get you to town,’ I said.
‘No. I’ve seen the creature come. You must stop him. . .but you also need to finish the doco. Promise me.’
I was shocked.
‘But why? The mining is destroying the land. Why would we want to do anything that promotes it?’
‘I have to finish what I’ve started.’
She held my hand for a brief moment before continuing. ‘I know you’re upset, but Sid’s right. We need to give mob all the information they can get.’
‘I’ll do my best with the filming,’ I said, although I was still unsure if it was the right thing to do. I let out a sigh and got up from the chair. ‘I better get ready. Get well, and safe travels back to camp.’
‘Good luck, Jonathan. I’ll see you tonight.’
I saw uncertainty written on her face, which didn’t fill me with confidence.
Outside Tabitha’s room I heard Sid talking to Possum around the corner in the hallway. I stopped dead in my tracks and listened.
‘Will be good to get back to work. From what Mick tells me they should have enough footage after today,’ he said.
‘You need to see the river,’ said Possum.
‘What’s wrong with the river?’
‘It’s on fire, Sid. I was sitting on the bank with a rod in and saw smoke on the horizon from a spot fire. Then, out of nowhere, the flame crept up. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. From one bank to the other, the water was lit up. That flame snaked its way past me and it kept going. Before long the entire river was blue and yellow. Has to be the gas. The animals can’t drink. Who knows how far the gas has spread through the ground water. You need to stop this nonsense and get back to Gambari and tell the council what’s happening.’
‘There was an accident,’ Sid explained. ‘Contamination of the aquifer near the mine. I know it might look bad, but them mining mob assured me they can fix the problem. No need to catastrophise. We need to get mining here soon. . .’
‘Stop it. Just stop it. . . You’ll change your tune when you see.’
There was silence for a while before Sid whispered. I had to strain to hear. ‘Just let me finish this up and I’ll see you at camp tonight.’
The rain of yesterday was swallowed up, and the sun blared down on the cracked hard ground. Sid and I helped Tabitha down to Possum’s car. I squinted through the glare and felt sweat on my brow. I said one last goodbye to Tabitha and looked back at the homestead. Possum and Norman were talking on the verandah. Possum’s hand was on Norman’s shoulder and he shook his head as they spoke.
We packed and watched Possum’s car creep away. Keith had made up an esky of sandwiches and water for the day. He seemed sad and looked frail saying goodbye.
‘Nice to have company,’ he said, before taking off his wide-brimmed hat and shooing away a couple of flies. ‘You’re welcome here anytime.’
We said our goodbyes and Norman asked to borrow Keith’s work ute. I was travelling with Norman.
Just before we left, Keith placed a hand on my elbow. ‘I dunno what he’s up to,’ he said, and glanced over at Norman waiting in the ute, ‘but look after him, will you?’
‘Of course,’ I said.
Keith nodded, ‘Good lad.’
With country music playing on the stereo, Norman pulled the car around and we left Keith alone with his border collies at play in the green garden, and entered the flat dry desert with all its uncertainty.
Around lunchtime we stopped by a pool of water with gum trees and boulders surrounding it. As the cars approached, I saw a goanna bolt off a flat rock where it was sunbaking. When we got out I felt a cool breeze on my skin and half-expected to smell gas off the water, but there was nothing. I figured we were a fair way from the river and the contamination hadn’t made it that far.
Mick and Sid decided it was the perfect place to shoot.
Mick started barking orders—he took his new role as director seriously. ‘Grab the tripod, Jenny. I’m going to set up at the cave entrance. The light is good. Yep, just there. No, a little further to the left. No, a little further. No, now you’ve gone too far. Back a bit. OK, yep, good.’ Then he looked to me and marked a spot in the dirt with his foot. ‘Jonathan, you can kneel down here. I reckon that’ll work well.’ He looked into my eyes. ‘This is it, Jonathan. The last scene. Make it count.’
While Mick readied the camera, the others milled around the water’s edge, but I studied the cave.
The ceiling was blackened from countless fires and it felt as though spirits moved about me. I thought of my ancestors sleeping in that very spot. Thousands upon thousands of years of dreams were held by the solid cave walls. I placed a hand on the smooth cold stone. The hairs on my arms stood to attention. There were ancient paintings on the walls: hands, birds, kangaroos, possums, men hunting and the stars.
I moved toward the back of the cave, and my knees almost buckled from under me. On the far wall was a white outline of a human body with a dingo head. Its face and claws outlined in red ochre. A lone warrior was pictured on the ground at the creature’s feet. His arm raised with a spear in hand.
‘You ready, Jonathan?’ said Mick, pulling me away from the picture.
I took a moment to clear my head and focus. I knelt on the ground next to artefacts and the bones of small animals. I held a spearhead and began to speak the words I’d memorised on the ride:
If an explorer comes across a cultural heritage site, they have two business days to send you a Cultural Heritage Notice. If you receive a cultural heritage find notice, you then have five business days to respond to said notice. Then another five days to lodge the agreement after consultation with the appropriate parties. . .
As I spoke, I heard the magpie’s song. With each sentence the singing became louder and closer. I began to smell fire and heard the crackling and popping of burning wood. There was heat coming from behind me and yet I knew there was no fire. The smell of smoke and the sweet singing didn’t bring anxiety as it would normally. Instead, I felt a calmness. On the branch of a tree above me the first magpie swooped up and perched. Not long after, another came. They lengthened their necks and sang together before taking flight and circling the cave. I noticed Norman staring at me intently. I finished the shot and stood up, my feet solid on the ground. I listened to the last of the magpie’s song. I felt a pull within me, a disruption, and with a crackle of ghostly fire it felt as though a pulse of energy was sent afar.
‘Cut,’ said Mick. ‘Take a quick break. We’ll have to do that again, Jonathan. Too much bird noise.’
Norman came over and looked me up and down. ‘You feel anything?’ he said.
‘I smelled smoke and felt energy coming from the cave. It’s hard to explain.’
‘The energy came from you. You just connected with your totem.’
‘My totem? What is it?’
‘The same as your Nan’s. Galbular. The magpie.’
I thought of all the times they’d swooped me. ‘Why have they attacked me so often?’
‘Because you weren’t listening.’
It made so much sense now. The warning attacks, the dreams, the constant signs. My totem had been with me from the beginning. I was shocked.
‘The magpie is strong, quick, loyal,’ said Norman. ‘The magpie sees the world from above. He’s wise. You’ll need his strength and wisdom.’
It took me another half a dozen takes to nail the scene. With the filming finally completed, it seemed like a weight had been lifted off Mick and Sid, and they patted each other on the back. Norman, on the other hand, looked sombre and focused. The peace and excitement I’d felt in discovering my totem had faded and was replaced by a tightness in my chest accompanied by a vision of the creature on the wall with its ochre stained teeth and claws.
We loaded the cars and took a small breather before continuing.
‘How’d you think that went? Was it the same as working with Tabitha?’ asked Mick.
‘It was fine,’ I said, which prompted a broad smile from him.
‘Good work, Jonathan. I’ll be glad to put this one behind me and get back to Brisbane,’ he said, looking past my shoulder.
‘Yeah, it’s been a tough trip.’
I followed his gaze. He was staring at Jenny. She looked anxious, and from what I could gather from her mutterings and hand gestures, she was practising what she was going to say to her mum when we returned.
The Bora Ring was located at the base of a small stony hill. There was a clearing with one large circle of rocks. As we approached from a distance, it looked like an eye staring into the sky. With the sun slowly dropping behind it, the sight of the colours and clouds cast against the red sand and stone made my skin prickle. It felt as though I’d glimpsed eternity.
While everyone ate afternoon tea, I climbed the hill next to the Bora to get a view of the surrounding desert. This would be our field of battle. As I stood there, anxious about the fight to come, a flock of cockatoos flew overhead. They squawked, played, and weaved about in unison and the afternoon light shimmered off their feathers. I stretched my eyes and saw a spot of black in the whiteness. Two magpies came and circled above me. I knew, somehow, that they were the same birds from the waterhole.
I felt heat through my body, an unfolding of power as the magpies glided above me, an understanding of things I’d forgotten as I became linked to the past, present, and future of Dreaming through my totem.
I climbed back down the hill and Norman ushered me away from the rest of the group. ‘Wudun’s out there somewhere,’ he said, and waved over the flat.
‘What should we do?’ I asked.
‘We’ll wait till nightfall and hunt him. He’ll be waiting for us. He knows we want to stop him because he had to fight so hard to get through.’
‘I’m supposed to be heading back to the campsite with the others.’
‘I’ll tell Sid I’ll drive you back later. We’ll either head back after it’s done, or we’ll go back to the land.’
I could feel a weight of pressure bearing down on my shoulders. I am Gunggari and my totem is galbular.
Jenny approached me as the others were preparing to leave for camp. ‘I’m staying here with you, Jono. I can help.’
