Timber Creek Station by Ali Lewis

Author:Ali Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lerner Publishing Group

NINETEEN

The ute’s engine growled louder, so I lay with my belly on the ground, hoping I’d ducked down below its headlights. It was then I remembered what the Pommie had said about Reg, so I started rolling over and over in the dust, covering myself with the dirt. I wanted to be a desert snow leopard too, so Dad wouldn’t be able to see me.

As the ute got closer and closer, I started to think he might run me over. I shut my eyes tight and braced myself. It came nearer and nearer. I held my breath. Dad drove past me. He must have only been a few yards away, but he couldn’t see me in that dusty disguise. The ute hummed toward Warlawurru like a mosquito. I stayed down on the ground, which was getting wet from my tears. I had no Jonny, no Buzz, and my sister was a gin-jockey. I guess I had no family really. It was cold on the ground.

_____________

When I saw Mick Smith’s white beard, I thought I was with Father Christmas. There was still a star or two in the sky behind him, so it looked a bit like heaven. I’d forgotten where I was, until he said, “G’day, Danny.” It was like he slapped me awake when I didn’t even know I’d been to sleep.

I think I said Buzz’s name out loud. It was like my mind’s starter motor was just cranking up. Gradually I remembered he was lost, and so was I. Mick sat down. I didn’t ask him if he wanted to. He just squatted on the next patch of dust, like I’d invited him.

He was looking out at where the sun was getting ready to yawn, when he said, “No swag?” I guess it was pretty stupid to sleep out in the desert without a swag, or even a blanket. That reminded my body to feel hungry and cold. I felt like I was going to perish. I guess I had the look of a crazed, dehydrated cow because he held his water bottle out to me and pointed at it with his chin, telling me to have a drink. He gave me his jacket too. It smelled like the inside of the chook house when you go early to collect the eggs. Clean, dry, lived in. Its warmth ached against my sharp shoulders. My dirty, bare legs stuck out underneath and in the grey light, the dried blood on my knees and shins looked like cement.

We didn’t say anything else for a while. Mick just let me think. That’s when I realized that when Sissy’s baby was born we’d kind of be related. After a bit he looked right at me, and said, “Buzz? That the camel?” I nodded and so did he, like it all made sense. Mick leaned back until his hat rested on some spinifex. He looked real comfortable. More comfortable than any whitefella’s ever looked, even in a bed. I guess I was the one who hadn’t been invited.

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