The Great Plains (46 page)

September, 1935 – on the plains, Southern Queensland

Chalk squatted on the ground before the fire. The remains of the kangaroo tail burnt on the coals as he picked his back molars free of gristle and sniffed the evening breeze. The soup was good. It filled his belly and calmed his heart, which ebbed and flowed erratically as if wavering between life and death. But it was not yet his time and so Chalk waited, knowing his boy needed him strong of mind, if not quite able. There was movement across the plains tonight and a sense of unease prickled his skin. The Emu in the Sky had dipped below the horizon and the land was cast in shadows. Chalk wished for the fat, lazy moon to reappear, but his wives had already taken to him with axes and had chopped so many bits from his body that soon he would climb a tall tree towards the sun to escape them.

He felt it again, a rippling in the air. Chalk's hands cupped the breeze but there was only the warmth of a late spring breath and her fragrant sigh as she weaved through the grasses. It was almost as if the ancestral beings were conscious of the ancient energy that had come to their land.

Chalk had seen Evan ride off with the men to the south-west that morning and knew that the stockman was up to no good. He waited for Jim to return from the station to see if his premonition was right. The one-armed gardener was always free with information and it was to him that Jim had gone, under the pretence of wanting his old job back. It was lamb-marking time. Evan should be mustering the ewes and lambs in from the north and east, not heading in the direction of the paddock where the wethers were moved to a few days ago. If Chalk was right, the bearded-one was asking for trouble. Once a year, maybe twice, Evan had stolen from the property and managed to conceal the crime. Chalk had been party to some of these doings but his share had been minimal, a sheep only and immunity for his son. In return they kept their jobs. Their word was nothing compared to the whites.

He wondered why Evan would tempt his gods. It was a risky business, thieving, especially with Kirkland on the lookout and the owner newly arrived. He wished his boy would return and confirm his suspicions, then they would ride west, away from the illegal doings taking place this night, away from the winged shadow that lay in wait on this night of retribution.

There was a crackle of brush, barely perceptible to the ear. Chalk threw a stick on the fire and waited. Only one white man was capable of getting so close to him without his knowledge and he didn't learn his skills here. Chalk didn't bother looking over his shoulder. ‘Mr Kirkland,' he said cordially.

The overseer appeared in the rim of light. ‘Chalk.' He walked around to the opposite side of the campfire. The dead kangaroo lay in the shadows, a hunk of meat cut precisely from the thigh sat on the carcass. ‘Good tucker?'

‘Good enough. You want some? The meat is fresh.'

‘I can see that.' He squatted in the dirt, the stock of his rifle resting on the ground. ‘I was expecting you back.'

‘I'm too old, Boss. These bones are no good to you anymore.'

‘You can still ride, track the missing, find those who don't want to be found.' The overseer reached for his tobacco and rolled a smoke, offering it to Chalk before rolling a second.

They lit the cigarettes. ‘You be looking for the white girl?'

Kirkland exhaled a thin line of smoke. ‘How did you know? Have you seen her?'

‘No, but no-one else has been running away, Boss.' Chalk knew she had passed this way with the dairy boy, Will. The lad's mare Pat has a slightly irregular-shaped rear hoof, and the blacksmith has adjusted that horseshoe accordingly. The girl he could smell miles away. ‘She's done you wrong?'

The man removed his hat. In the camp-light his red hair grew fiery. ‘Women have a tendency of coming between friends.'

‘So you search by yourself?'

‘Not if you join me.'

‘This fella has to say no. You understand, Boss.'

‘I only just learnt that she's run away. I followed two sets of horse tracks as far as here –'

‘A bad night for tracking.' Chalk sat in the middle of the path that the young people had taken to the river. ‘And this dry ridge leaves no impressions.' Sheep had walked across this land, horses and dogs, but the ground was hard and dry, undecipherable. At the edge of the timber some two miles away an eagle's nest marked their trail. Kirkland would pick up their route eventually.

The overseer shook his head at the flat, dark land.

‘Where are the search parties?'

‘Most of the men are out mustering for lamb-marking. The first team won't be back at the homestead until tomorrow.'

‘Mr Wade must be upset.'

‘He and the copper left at noon. They're out following up a lead about the sheep thefts. That Will Todd, what's he like?'

‘A boy, but a good boy.'

‘Evan said someone's been stealing sheep and selling them to the store in the village.'

Chalk hunched his shoulders. ‘I don't know nothing about that, Boss, but I don't think it would be the boy. When would he have the time?'

Flicking his smoke into the fire, Kirkland gave a grunt. ‘It's worth checking out.'

Chalk didn't want to warn the man but he felt that he must. Kirkland had done nothing to him personally. ‘You be careful, Boss.'

‘Of what?'

‘Of this place, of the spirits, of the past and the future. Of being in the wrong place at the worst time.'

‘I'll be fine.' Kirkland grinned, clearly amused by a blackfella's concern.

‘Okay, Boss. Whatever you say.' He watched the younger man as he was devoured by the night.

‘Father?'

Jim's face hovered overhead. Chalk pushed up from the ground where he'd been sleeping and wiped the earth from his cheek. There was meat sizzling on the fire. The boy drank from a canvas waterbag and passed it across. Chalk took a noisy gulp.

‘They say Mr Wade's father has given the property to Wes Kirkland, and the girl has gone.'

‘I didn't see that.' Chalk rubbed at the grit in his eyes. ‘As for the girl, she is with Will.'

‘She used him for her escape?' Jim asked.

‘Yes. They share the troubles of the poor, although young Will has no idea of what the girl has endured.'

‘I see.' Jim prodded the meat roughly.

‘I thought you did not care for her, my son?'

‘I thought I was not meant to, but then I saw her by the river. I felt a pulling inside of me, as if I was looking at my woman self.'

Chalk rubbed a bony knee. ‘She is strong in medicine, as you are strong.'

‘I think it's more than that, Father. This girl was in my life before she crossed the waters. She has been in my life since you first told me of the coming of the shadow.'

‘And that is why you had to stay away from her. Will Todd is with her this night for a reason. There must be an ending of things before there can be a beginning.'

Jim flipped the kangaroo meat with his pocket knife. It sizzled and spat fat onto the back of his hand. The boy sucked at the burn. ‘What are you saying?'

Chalk chuckled. ‘Too much. Tell me more of what was said at the big house.'

‘I tracked Evan after I spoke with the gardener. They've taken a wing of the wethers around the back of the village and are walking them along the riverbank. I suspect they mean to cross them at the dairy farm. The Todds won't suspect anything with Mr Kirkland having obtained access from them.'

‘How many?'

‘Not more than five hundred. Evan chose the closest mob, which conveniently have just been yarded and counted. He figures the loss won't be noticed until crutching in January.'

Jim speared the meat and sat it on a tin plate. He cut pieces of it with his knife and ate the juicy flesh with his fingers. ‘What will happen to the girl?'

‘It is not my place to say, my son.'

‘I know someone watches over her and it is this spirit-man that I worry about,' Jim confided. ‘I saw his strength that day by the river. His voice was strong in her. He does not belong in our land. He should return to the soil of his people.'

‘The girl must be the one to make him leave.'

Jim ate the food quickly. ‘You are tired tonight?'

‘Yes,' Chalk replied, lying back down on the ground.

‘Is it possible to want a woman after seeing her just once, Father?'

The earth was hard beneath Chalk's back. It poked into his frame, teasing the aches that pulsed along his spine. ‘Do the stars not appear at night regardless of our inclination?' He wiggled a little in the dirt, like a burrowing lizard, and then turned his gaze to the night sky.

September, 1935 – The Plains, Southern Queensland

Abelena walked to the milking shed. She had decided to wait until there was fresh milk before knocking on Will's mother's bedroom door and tempting her with scrambled eggs. Food was always welcome and if it came served with a kindly ear, Abelena felt sure that Mrs Todd would share her problems. Marcus and Will had not mentioned a word of the woman's difficulties but one look at the small dwelling perched on the edge of the scrub suggested that loneliness was a part of the older woman's woes.

She climbed through the railings and found father and son seated four cows apart, milking. They were engrossed in their task and Will didn't hear her approach until she was standing next to him.

Will looked up from where he sat and smiled. ‘Have you ever milked?'

‘No.'

‘Have a go, love,' Marcus suggested, his voice muffled by the warm cow bodies between them and the squirt of milk in the cast-iron buckets.

Will offered her his three-legged stool.

Abelena sat awkwardly.

‘You'll have to get that out of the way.' Will pulled her skirts up until her knees were bare. ‘Right, now get in close and rest your head against the old girl. That's right. Now take a teat in each hand.'

Abelena giggled.

‘You're hopeless, I'll show you.' Will squatted behind her, his chest hard against her back and, reaching around, guided Abelena's hands into position. Wrapping his hands around hers, he began to move her fingers. ‘Your grip should be firm, but not hard.'

It was a mixture of squeezing and pulling and it took a few minutes for Abelena to work out the technique. Usually she picked up new tasks quickly but she found it difficult to concentrate. Will had his chin on her shoulder. Abelena's cheeks grew warm.

‘Now you're getting the hang of it.'

Milk began to squirt into the bucket, but Will's hands had not left hers. His warmth embraced her. He'd moved closer if it was possible and he'd begun to run his palms very slowly along her arms.

‘Keep going,' Will told her as he moved his hands to her shoulders. ‘You're good at this.'

‘What are you doing?' Her voice sounded very small.

‘Helping,' Will told her.

‘How's she doing?' Marcus asked.

Will cleared his throat. ‘Fine, Dad, just fine. Keep going,' he told her. He moved sideways, turned Abelena's head towards him and kissed her.

It was a hard kiss. His tongue was in her mouth and one hand strayed to a bare knee. Abelena gasped. ‘Stop it.'

‘You came on to me in the woolshed, took your clothes off at the river. Kiss me back.'

‘No,' Abelena replied quietly.

‘Yes,' Will whispered.

‘Your father?' Abelena gave a coy smile. Will leant towards her and this time the kiss was longer, deeper, nicer. In fact, she liked it a lot.

‘I'll leave you two to finish up. I'll go and chop some firewood before it gets dark,' Marcus called out to them.

‘No problems, Dad.' Will peered out from behind the cow and watched as his father clambered through the wooden railings of the yard. Then he turned to Abelena and shoved her playfully off the stool onto the ground.

‘Hey,' she complained, but she liked being close to Will. She liked the sensation of not being alone. And she had been alone, for a long time.

‘Come here.' He placed a hand on Abelena's shoulder and pushed her to the ground. ‘I have money,' he told her as he kissed her. ‘We could run away together.'

She could feel his hand struggling with her skirt. ‘What about your family?'

‘What about them? We could go north or south, wherever you like.'

Abelena struggled to listen. She was feeling things she'd never experienced before. There was an urgent need within her to pull Will closer, to feel his skin against hers, and yet she was aware of the cow next to them, of the bucket of milk and the cloying stink of warm dung. His knee was between her legs and then he was grabbing her thigh and lifting her leg.

‘Will, do you and Abelena need a hand?'

Will stood quickly. ‘No, Dad, we're fine.'

‘Well, you better get a move on. We said we'd go hunting tonight, remember?'

Will looked at Abelena. ‘Yeah,' he called out to the shadowy figure beyond the yards, ‘I remember.'

‘Hunting what?' Abelena let him brush the dirt from her back and pick bits of straw from her hair. His hands lingered on her body.

‘Rabbits.'

She knew he lied.

‘Sorry, I guess I got a bit carried away. I didn't hurt you, did I?'

‘No, but I don't want to have a baby, Will.'

Will laughed bleakly. ‘You're about the only one around here who doesn't.' He kissed her cheek. ‘You best get back to the house and I'll finish here. Don't worry, I won't leave you up the duff, Abelena. Not that it matters if we're going to be together.'

‘I thought we were just running away?'

‘It means the same thing,' Will told her. ‘From here on in, I'll take care of you.'

Abelena left Will tending the cows and walked back towards the house. The air was warm and clear, but her mind was filling with images of her mother and the many men who undoubtedly promised to care for her and her children, children who were now either dead or scattered across the world.