Facing the sun, p.12
Facing the Sun, page 12
Doing another U-turn rapidly, he leaves the car running while he jumps onto the bonnet to use the floodlight. This, he shifts in a wide arc lighting up the desert to each side of the road and for a distance way further than the men could possibly have reached in that short space of time. Nothing. Taking another sweep more carefully, he catches sight of them rising. If he lets the light go, he will lose them. The risk of chasing these men too far into the desert is that they will be completely lost; very serious business. With the flood on, he jumps down and begins to run lightly through the dark scrub making his silent way towards them, praying they won’t take off. On reaching them, he halts, dropping onto his heels, and glaring. “What the fuck are you doing out here? Dickheads! Never leave your vehicle!” Frustrated at the lack of response, he stands leaning over them. “D’ya think I want to spend my night chasing after you lot?” This produces sullen stares from the two young men. “Whaddya think you’re gunna gain by walking?” he asks impatiently. “D’ya reckon I lie in wait for dickheads like you to stumble across my piece of desert so I can rescue them?”
The one with the long blonde hair lifts his chin at Jack who glares his fiercest in return. While he seriously considered several unpleasant responses, his temper suddenly makes way for a flash of laughter. “Oh! Come on you mongrels. I’m a welfare officer working for the Government. Name’s Jack.” They look at each other trying to work out whether he’s for real or whether this is all part of the plan to murder them. Jack waits. Not what he’d planned for his night but an adventure of some sort. Long seconds pass.
“Okay,” Jack says, after waiting for as long as he cares to stand in the middle of the scrubby desert feeling the cold descending on his bare skin without its sleeping bag. “That’s it. I’m off.” He turns to make his way back towards his vehicle muttering under his breath, “If you bastards want, I’m gunna to leave you to it.” Reaching his car, he jumps into the seat, slamming the door to express his frustration and stares back at the spot where the men now stand. He can’t just leave them there. That would be akin to murdering them, but not half as much fun. He turns the heater up high and his lights onto high beam. Ten minutes pass, but Jack is a patient hunter. Eventually, movement catches his eye, and he waits to see which direction they might decide on, mapping out his next possible moves. The two men are looking around them, and an argument is starting up so Jack winds down his window to listen. They seem to have not the slightest inkling about how far sound travels in the desert which means having to listen to a stream of racist fears bringing his blood back to the boil. Then, they surprise him, just as he’s decided that a day out in the hot sun would do them a deal of good. They are heading for the car. “Don’t rush fellas,” he mutters. “I love waiting here all night.”
Bravado is clearly their carefully planned move. Walking directly up to the window on the driver’s side, they began to issue instructions. “You can take us back to our car then,” blonde man says, clearly the hero of the two.
“Can I now?” Jack scowls. “How about I leave you here, instead?” The scowl throws them into stepping back and re conferring.
“If you are who you say you are, working for the government, and that, you can’t just go away when we’re stuck out here.”
Jack’s skin begins to crawl as he recognises the type. He would help them tonight and tomorrow they’d be bringing the lynch party. Nevertheless, he has no choice. “Get in the back,” he barks. “And hold on.” Waiting only long enough for them to climb up and grasp a rail on the Ute’s tray he floors it. One manages to keep hold, but the other falls to the floor. He slows long enough to watch him stand again, grasping the rail with two hands this time, before starting off at a more sedate pace, recognising the danger of his anger. Making his way to the road, he turns left. There has been no vehicle past him which means their car has stopped back quite a way. There it stands on the sandy verge; a souped up four wheel drive with every bell and whistle. All four wheels appear to be attached. Probably a fuel shortage, he tells himself.
As soon as they arrive, the two men leap down from the tray and front him. “Do you have any diesel?”
“Please.”
This produces a glare and a frown respectively, before the grudging word. Jack turns on his heel and walks back to his vehicle unstrapping the spare container against which they would have been leaning, and, carrying it over to them, he waits for someone to open the cap. This takes a moment or two. In total silence, he pours the contents into their tank, re-screws the cap and walks away. One runs after him proffering fifty dollars, but Jack drops it in the dirt at their feet. After reaching the car, he pauses, thinking for a moment and stares back, “Do you have water?” Disgusted when they shake their heads, he frees the water container, lowering it to the ground, climbs into the Ute and drives off into the night, his heart heavy for the several hours he’s aware of their presence behind him somewhere on the road.
The vehicle pulls into Marra’s driveway mid-morning, Jack sick with exhaustion. Using his spare key, he lets himself in and begins to cook breakfast preparatory to taking a long nap before heading off out to the community to visit his mother. Just as the bacon begins to sizzle a few notes from his mobile phone alert him to Marra ringing to check whether he thinks she should come home. All he can do is tell her he’s been receiving the same news. Their mother is in trouble of some sort and needs them there with her. With one hand, he flips two eggs and some mushrooms onto the plate to join the bacon, throwing in some bread to fry. The house is constantly stocked with essentials, except for milk. No matter. Black coffee’s okay. Marra’s family treats the Birdsville house as their own; which in a way it is. Jack has no home in Birdsville, as such, but he had a healthy income which had needed a new direction once he’d paid off the place in Adelaide, so it made sense at the time to put forward the deposit. Each time Sohrab protests and attempts to repay the “loan”, Jack looks surprised at the idea. “I thought it was ours,” he would say. “Oh well. I suppose I could always sleep in the Ute if I’m a nuisance.” And his brother-in-law, secretly delighted at the way the community works, would reply, “Don’t be ridiculous! Where else would you sleep but here? It’s your home”. Once in a while, Marra and Jack host their mother in Birdsville. Occasionally, they manage to talk her into getting some medical attention, and this is the stepping stone to Adelaide, although there had been a time previously when the flying doctor had been called out to the community because she was too ill to travel. She hated leaving her family, and it was always a battle when her diabetes was neglected and she developed sores on her toes or lower legs. Fortunately, her eyesight is good enough so far, but there is always the possibility that she will get into real difficulty and be too far away from help. Fortunately, Jack’s work keeps him in constant contact. The family is large. Three brothers still at home with their wives and several children, one of whom is pregnant. Anything could be happening, but driving out there in the condition he’s in is not a good plan. He needs fuel and water for the trip and prefers to arrive with meat and vegetables as hunting can be a bit too hit and miss for Jack’s liking. Marra decides she will wait for news, and also for her husband to take over at home.
He clicks off the phone and turns with the plate towards the table jumping back and dislodging an egg which flies half way across the floor pulling up at the back door. There is a man sitting looking at him with an apologetic expression, the sight of which only enrages Jack further. This time, he is so stunned at the apparition that he tilts the plate at a precarious angle, and when Dale leans forward to catch it, he fails to protest, staggering into a chair and shaking his woolly head in the hope it might clear and the apparition vanish. He plops down and puts the head in question into his hands, reluctant to raise it in case madness overtakes him completely.
“Sorry Jack,” Dale said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” The concern and obvious discomfort makes Jack even more confused. He is unable to think of a suitable reply. “Just wanted to let you know you’re doing okay.”
Jack stares at him, incomprehension clouding his mind, while he struggles to respond. He pushes the plate away from him, his hunger replaced by dread. He is going over the edge. His life is a mess. He keeps having visions that speak to him. This is a serious mental illness. Surely, he hasn’t drunk that much lately. No. In fact he’s had no more than half a dozen stubbies in days. What is it? Sohrab’s mess? Loneliness? The two men on the road who had treated him like he was less than human? Surely not. He’s used to all that. He’s gay for goodness sake! Words struggle to form. His mouth opens and closes while he shuts his eyes again half hoping they will clear, but knowing it won’t solve the problem. He is having visions. “Who are you?” he struggles out. “Why are you doing this?”
The Caretaker scrambles around for an answer. The last couple of times they’ve spoken have not gone well. He is keen to do better this time, desperate to prove to himself (and others) that he’s up to the job. “I’m Dale, and I’m a Caretaker.”
Silence in the face of this information means Jack’s fear is rising as fatigue and hunger build a heavy fog around his brain. Do Caretakers come to take away people who are mad even before it becomes obvious? “I don’t get it,” he whispers. “I can’t do this.” Running his fingers through his hair, he stares back at Dale feeling hysteria rising. “Please don’t do this.”
Leaving is definitely not an option, Dale decides, as he wrestles with himself attempting to balance the distress he’s picking up from Jack with his own concerns. “Please hear me out, Jack. You’re not giving me a chance to explain this, and you’re getting the wrong idea. I’m here to help you, not to make things worse, but you need to let me explain it all…if I can,” he ends hopelessly. The two sit staring at each other for several moments searching for trust, ideas, a breakthrough, anything to relieve the confusion and dread.
Catching at straws, Dale says, “Please eat your breakfast, Jack. You’ll feel better.”
The eggs are cooling, and it provides him with something to do, so he eats (including the one off the floor). Without any warning and without his permission, Dale vanishes again.
* * *
He finds himself before the Source once more, but this time he decides to take a step with his front foot and is proud that he did. “I’m glad to see you,” he says. “That was a tight one. He was really distressed, thinking he was going mad, and nothing would come to me about what to do.” Staring up into kind eyes, he continues. “It wasn’t my decision to go there, let alone materialise! Heaven knows what’s happening, but it’s not me.”
“There, you are very right, Dale,” the Source responds with a smile. “Heaven knows what’s happening.”
This is confusing. Then it comes to him what he’d said bringing a grin to his own face. “You mean you had something to do with it, don’t you?” He thinks about it. “It doesn’t make sense. Surely you aren’t wanting to scare Jack into thinking he’s insane?”
For a moment the Source is silent, then the words slip into the air around them, gentle and warm. “You have achieved what I wanted for you, Dale, my dear,” ku replies, smiling at the expression of disbelief. “You were able to feel more for Jack in that encounter than you did for yourself. It’s almost impossible to produce anything useful whilst focussing on your own concerns about functioning.”
Puzzled, the Caretaker shakes his head. “But, he can’t be left in that condition. Send him some help. Anything. Send Torrenclar. He’ll know what to do.” A warm blanket of affection settles over Dale’s shoulders spreading through his entire being. The sun appears through a thick bank of clouds, and a light breeze weaves its way through his hair.
“I am very pleased with you, Dale. You are doing well. Torrenclar is beside him, although he doesn’t know it, and you are on your way towards becoming an effective Caretaker. Another decade or so, and you will taking up some extraordinary challenges.”
* * *
Relief washes over Adam when he discovers his mother will be busy with meeting Jack’s air ambulance flight bringing Gugunya. His first thought had been to ask to go with her, so she wouldn’t have to do it by herself. Everything seems to land on her, and it’s his job to step up and support her, not disappear like his father had. Mum, of course, isn’t happy with Gugunya’s probable distress in such an overwhelmingly large place. It took Jack some time to persuade Gugunya to agree to the air ambulance into Adelaide, especially as she knows there’s a strong chance she’ll have to have more toes amputated. She is sixty two and has been frail for lots of years now, but she refuses to leave her mob and move into a city. Adam’s pleased about that, not only because he loves going out to visit her and being with all his family, but also because she would die if they did that to her. Funny things some people think; that she’d be safer nearer medical care, when he knows she would die just from being kept inside, let alone from the loneliness. Out there, she is the Wise Woman. In town, she’d become just another sick and confused old lady.
His Mum is better off without him like this. He won’t have to keep hiding things because she’s going to be so busy. Of course, Baba’s back, but he’s working. That’s another problem; one he can deal with later. He’ll be on his best behaviour for a while and be trying to get along with his kids; in front of Sandro at least. He’s staying in a Motel for the minute. When the call to go to Birdsville came, she was really agitated, trying to work out what to do with them. Fortunately, she hadn’t had to go. He’d told her they would be fine by themselves, but he didn’t really believe it. He would have been okay, but Molly is stupid and totally irresponsible. The agreement is that his father can come to the house while Sandro and the others are around for the next few days, and then they are going to get counselling, or something. His Mum had been so relieved when he’d turned up, (even though Jack had warned her) she’d thrown herself on him. That must have been the right thing to do because his Dad has been in an especially good mood.
Perhaps his Dad can be persuaded to let him go to Melbourne with them, when they go home. While he’s there, he can just lie low for a while. Of course, they’ll expect him to go to school, but he can pretend lots of things in Melbourne.
There are so many places to hide there. His thoughts are mixed about his new family members. Clearly, Sandro is a far better option in a son, than himself. On the other hand, it’s good to have a big brother; especially one living in Melbourne! For many years, his dream has been to go to school there, and he’d often suggested they all move; especially when Baba told them about his brother who lived in Melbourne. ‘A successful business man’, Baba had said. ‘Someone who has made his way in the world and is well respected’. This, in Baba’s eyes is the pinnacle of achievement. To be well respected and successful. Now he’s in this mess, there won’t ever be any hope of that. Pity really. He’d been so bright before it’d happened. Now, everyone thinks he’s lazy. Maybe he could go live with Josh.
Josh is cool. Bridey and Sandro respect him a lot. In fact, Josh is more like a brother than Adam can ever be. And, he lives alone. Well, almost. Bridey lives in a house Sandro owns, and Josh sort of camps there; from what he can tell. Comes and goes whenever he wants and has no one telling him what to do. He’s studying and everything. Adam isn’t sure what a Carer is exactly, but it sounds like a dud job. He wants to be an architect. No hope of that now. Misery returns, as he reflects on his future. Even in Melbourne and free, he’ll still be what he doesn’t want, no matter how hard he works at it.
The door to his bedroom opens without warning, letting in Molly who seems to think she can do whatever she wants these days. At least, she and Baba have made up which pleased their Mum, even though now she’s all over him which makes Adam sick. She can twist him to anything, if she tries hard enough. He doesn’t really get what his father sees in her. To him, she’s just a brat, never caring when she causes trouble, no matter how complicated life gets because of her.
“GET OUT!” he yells. “GET OUT, OR I’LL STRANGLE YOU, YOU LITTLE…” He breaks off at the sight of Bridey’s head appearing around the door jamb. “Lucky for you,” he mutters at his sister. “Later. You just wait”
Bridey knocks softly on the open door. “Do you mind if I come in, Adam?” He shakes his head, flushing. “Of course not. It’s just her!” The words sound sullen and childish to his ears. That’s Molly’s fault.
“It’s just that we’re taking your Mum to the hospital to meet Jack and Gugunya, and we thought maybe you’d want to come. Get out for a while.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He thinks for a bit. “As long as she’s not.”
“Molly’s being dropped off at friends for the day, so if you can tolerate her for five minutes, we could take you out for lunch, or something.”
“Where’s Josh?” he asks, suspicious.
“He has to stay home and catch up on some school work.” She smiles and waits for a moment. “I’ll leave you to think about it. We’re leaving in fifteen.”
“It’s okay. I’ll come. Thanks.” She leaves, and he lies a while longer staring after her. She’s gorgeous. He envies his brother so much it hurts. No girl will even think about him from now on. Up until lately, he’d been quite popular with them, but somehow they seem to have caught wind of something, because they don’t seem so interested any more. Of course, a girl like Bridey can have anyone she chooses, and she’s gone for his brother. The success.
The car is running while his mother keeps going back for things she’s forgotten. That means she’s stressed. When everything’s going well she can plan and carry out any number of things at the same time, but lately she’s cracking up a bit; yelling and stuff. If Gugunya isn’t too sick, maybe a break from them could help. Who knows? He becomes conscious of the warmth of Bridey’s thigh against his because there are three of them jammed in the back together. If he shifts, she’ll notice and think he doesn’t like it. Can he just leave it there? In ten minutes, if his mother hurries up, Molly will get out of the car, and then they’ll spread out. He decides to leave it there and hope she can’t tell what he’s thinking. Suddenly, he wishes Molly was coming with them. Nah. Not even worth that, having to put up with her all afternoon. Baba’s at work today. That’s good. He’s really behind. Maybe my luck’s turning, Adam thinks. Maybe good things can happen to me.
