Worry — Warri

Sometimes, when you’re young, you may not be completely aware of the lengths people will stretch themselves to, to ensure your safety. Sometimes, you do not see the time and effort they went to, to create something as simple as a wooden fish on a leather thong. Sometimes, it’s a life’s work to get out one hundred or so simple pages just to keep people happy.

It was many hours later Solway had been dropped off at the apartments. She had called the police whilst perched on Jenny’s lap as they headed up the highway, which was slightly amusing but not at the same time, and the conversation with Search and Rescue was ongoing as she’d quietly thanked Jenny and Ronald for their help (they really could not help any more than they had), retrieved the spare key from under the dead pot plant, gone inside, noticed how empty the place seemed without Bart there, and sat down.

The police and the follow up call to Search and Rescue had not been particularly helpful, the woman asking if Bart was in imminent danger, exposed to the elements or anything else that required spending a great deal of the state’s money to save someone who possibly didn’t need rescuing. 

Solway had answered honestly with “I don’t think so” to the majority of the questions although, she said angrily to the operator on the other end, how the hell would she know when it could be possible Bart was in imminent danger of being drowned by a large creek that had not been particularly large when they’d first got there.

The operator went on to say it could possibly be a situation where he needed airlifting, and did Solway think airlifting someone out of a possibly not too bad situation was worth paying for from the state’s coffers, even if the helicopter pilots might think it could be a lot of fun and keep them entertained.

The last part of the operator’s statement had Solway wondering if perhaps the operator had a partner who flew helicopters and liked to be entertained, but she did not ask as it didn’t appear pertinent to what she was asking. The next question Solway asked was this…

‘So, you are not going to help me then.’ It may have been rhetorical.

‘That’s not what I said,’ the operator replied in a very calm voice. ‘I am just explaining the logistics of organising your rescue party, when it is highly likely you could possibly do more, and do it faster, from your end rather than relying on us.’

‘I see.’ Solway said and even to her own ears her voice sounded kind of dead. ‘Thanks for your help. Do you have any suggestions?’

‘Unfortunately, as I do not know the full situation of your partner at this current point in time, it is not…. Oh buggerit. Look. If I were you, I’d see if I can get someone who could at least tow the vehicle back to the main road, see if you can get the flat replaced, and you guys would be on your way.’

‘That’s not quite as easy as you think it is,’ Solway replied, thinking of the extremely sandy track, the extremely gravelly, and not in a good way, track, and the extremely winding track they had first gone down which had lots of trees in the way.

‘It’s all I can offer you, and I shouldn’t even be saying that,’ replied the operator. ‘Listen, luv, I’m sorry I can’t help you, but unless this is an emergency situation, our hands are tied. I wish you the best of luck, and I’ve written down both your names and it’s in the system now, so if anything else occurs, call us back and we’ll know what to do.’

‘Thanks,’ Solway said because she couldn’t think of much else to say. ‘I appreciate your time.’ Before the operator could say anything else, she hung up and sat on the couch in the living room watching the empty screen of the TV for a very long time.

Then she headed for the shower. The warm water pelting her head made her feel guilty.

A little thought trembled into the side of her mind that she should possibly not feel too guilty because after all she had done all the hard work of walking all the way until she’d found those people, and been given a lift home through sheer kindness alone, but she was here, and Bart was somewhere three hours south in the middle of the first autumn storm for the year, and it just didn’t seem right.

And now night had fallen, and there was nothing sensible she could do until the morning. The only thing Solway could think of doing was start making lists of all the people she knew, explain the situation as best she could, and hope that someone had the right gear and vehicles to get Bart back on the road.

She did not think she’d be getting much sleep at all.

______________o______________

Bart happened to be playing charades with a see-through lizard, who had decided to reduce its size and sit on the outside of the tented end of the swag because they had both noticed if it sat on the inside, things tended to get wet (including Bart, because the swag was not particularly big).

The lizard kind of reminded him of a picture he had once seen of the first creature that had apparently left the ocean and crawled onto the land. He wondered if that had been see-through as well.

Probably not quite as see through as I am now, the lizard thought very clearly at him, and I am thinking very clearly I think because this is just a little part of me The rest of me has flown around the world a couple of times to check on people who think they may need to laugh a bit more, and I am finding that I have learnt a lot of different languages to/for/night day and do not yet have the ability to make full stops which I believe were only invented so people could take a breath between thoughts which is something I don’t need to do

The game of charades the lizard had decided to play with him had something to do with Solway. It was highly likely the lizard had looked at Solway’s name inside Bart’s head and decided, seeing as they were speaking English and not any other language at this particular moment… had decided Solway’s name meant Sun walk – which it didn’t, but Bart didn’t have the heart to hurt the lizard’s feelings.

The idea of “sun walk” had appeared as a vision between them, and it had indeed taken Bart a little while to figure out what, or who, the hell the lizard meant, especially after it deposited a pair of very large imaginary rose-coloured sunglasses on his lap.

But, he’d got there eventually.

Now, the lizard was showing him a box of round chocolates covered in gold wrapping and putting them next to the sunwalk and, if the lizard could look at him inquiringly with its very large, completely round, golden eyes, Bart supposed that was exactly what it was doing. It also began to purr again, which made his boots vibrate at the edge of the tent.

He wondered if he should ask the lizard to stop doing that, because it did not appear to be doing the ground they were sitting on any favours whatsoever. He frowned.

The lizard looked at the ground, which was wobbling, widened its eyes even more if that were at all possible, and levitated almost exactly ten centimetres (if Bart had a ruler he’d have measured it, but was somehow assured that was the height and he shouldn’t be arguing), then showed him, once again, the vision of the sunwalk and the clear box of round chocolates.

The lizard added two little stick arms. One from the chocolates, and one from the sunwalk, which had somehow turned into a golden pathway. They joined together, little stick fingers intertwining.

Bart shook his head.

The lizard added what looked like a tiny penis to the bottom of the chocolates and looked at him again.

‘I know what the chocolates are. They’re Ferros’,’ Bart said. ‘Oh! I think I’ve got it. You are talking about Solway’s brother.’ He clapped his hands.

Solway’s brother was not named Ferro. Bart snorted. He also probably wouldn’t appreciate being portrayed as a box of delicious chocolates. What the lizard had portrayed was that Solway’s brother was completely opposite to his sister in colouring, and had dark brown eyes instead of blue. His hair was also very dark, whereas Solway’s was very blonde. If the brother and sister could be complete opposites in the way they looked, Bart supposed to the lizard’s mind, this was how it seemed. Sunshine and Chocolate. For some reason, this brought tears to Bart’s eyes. 

Solway and her brother had not spoken since shortly after Solway had met Bart and, he thought, he might be the reason for that.

The lizard put one of the imaginary chocolates in its mouth and smiled.

‘I see,’ said Bart, although he didn’t, not really. ‘Oh, no, now I get it, you think Solway’s brother has something else going on, right?’

The lizard’s smile grew wider.

‘Okay. Well. Are you trying to tell me now is the time Solway should be talking to her brother?’

The lizard stood up from its levitating, jumped up and down, and ran inside the swag.

‘Oh no,’ said Bart, thinking everything would get completely soaked.

It didn’t get completely soaked because, apparently, the lizard had thought all about that and decided to wear a plastic poncho, which had not been on it before, and had hung it up just outside the doorway, which had definitely not happened as far as Bart could tell, yet apparently now it had, and the lizard had decided to change itself to look quite a lot like Solway, and that was extremely disconcerting because it had not remembered to wear any clothes.

Bart did not know quite what to say, and decided, at least for the time being, it would be safer not to say very much at all. He searched around with one hand for his beanie, and pulled it completely over his head, and his face, and all the way down to his chin.

Phew, he thought. That’s much better.

Liar, thought the lizard.

~~~~~~,~’~~~~~.~’~~80>

Making Do, and Bump xox

Bart decided he should probably set up some kind of temporary camp. Then he wondered, if he was going to do that, if he should wait for the rain to stop, or perhaps put himself further under the big, he glanced at the ones beside the track, tuarts and, he looked around a bit, jarrah, and marri.

‘Hmm.’ To put his swag under a tuart tree during a storm would likely not end well. Those trees had a habit of dropping branches just for the hell of it, and Bart did not want to wake up in the middle of the night (just in case he had not been rescued by then) squashed under an extra large branch that had decided to keep him company.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like tuarts. They were beautiful trees, and their trunks were particularly sturdy, which many people who had come down the hill through this forest had probably found out when they’d scraped their cars against them.

Once again, he silently congratulated Solway on her amazing reaction time to those killer trunks. She really was the most amazing person he had ever come across. Bart didn’t think many people would have handled a drive through the Australian bush at night time, on a track they didn’t know, quite as well as Solway had.

He smiled. How did he get so lucky?

Then again, he thought, he probably wouldn’t have made the decision to drive through a forest at night on a track he didn’t know, just to get somewhere faster. So, he supposed there was that.

But, he didn’t have quite the same adventurous spirit as Solway did and, he began thinking about this very deeply indeed, if “adventurous” was the actual word one might use. “Suicidal” perhaps. Or possibly “X factor”, which was what some numbnuts had decided to call those people who risked life and limb just to do something specky and extremely dangerous.

It just… Well… It certainly wasn’t his cup of tea, that’s for sure.

Bart considered himself more of a sensible person. It didn’t mean he did not enjoy Solway’s headlong, and often well-thought out, leaps of faith into the unknown, because he did. It was exciting. He just didn’t think, if he were somewhere by himself, that he would perform such acts because if he did, with his track record, he would more than likely find himself in deep poopies.

Deep poopies was not a place he wished to be.

Bart did not consider himself to be in deep poopy at this exact moment. He had a warm vehicle, filled with many wonderful things he could use to set himself up quite nicely, a full esky, and boxes of delicious num-nums that Solway had packed for him. The most delicious num-num of all was that block of chocolate sitting between the two front seats, that he had not touched all day, possibly due to the fact he’d been talking to people who weren’t actually there, and an extremely large “thing” that he hadn’t actually seen but knew had been, quite strangely, looking after him.

He was pretty sure it was the thing that belonged to that eye he’d seen in the mud. 

What else would it be? They’d come to this general area for the exact purpose of finding this eye, and that the “thing”, which according to some strange ghost man person was probably some prehistoric legless lizard, had sorta kinda turned up, and he certainly had not backed the Land Rover up onto this track quite as neatly as it had been without any external help.

Considering the fact the vehicle had not actually been turned on at the time, aided this thinking.

‘I’m not crazy,’ he said to the closest tree. ‘Just in case you were wondering.’

The tree did not reply, which made him feel slightly better. He decided to pull out his swag and find a more bushy looking tree, one that he could put the swag underneath and roll out and pop up the middle bit, and feel safe and cosy inside. Something perhaps, and here he sighed quite deeply, that resembled a wattle bush.

First of all though, he was definitely going to eat that chocolate. Solway had told him to reward himself with it, and that, he decided, was exactly what he was going to do.

The little giggle that escaped his lips as he began to unwrap the distinctive purple/blue paper might have been described by anyone else as slightly unhinged, but no one else was there, and the last thing Bartholomew Branson would describe himself as, and he hummed to himself as he put three squares of milk chocky into his face all at once, was unhinged.

8/ Bump

Solway decided that Ronald was unhinged. 

It sounded like his wife had decided that too.

‘Slow the fuck down for Gods sake man jesus christ this isnt a speedway,’ were the words coming from behind Solway’s head as the range rover scampered up the slope.

‘I’m not going to bother explaining to you, oof, why this is important, argh, fuck I nearly broke a finger, hmfph,’ Ronald replied through gritted teeth as they mounted the edges of the track. ‘This gravel is turning into a bed of marbles under the wheels, and I’m not talking about the kind with striations in it.’

Solway pondered that as they bounced over a low shrub. ‘So,’ she said calmly as the woman under her uttered another shriek. ‘You are talking about the round glass kind, that sometimes do have a kind of striation in them, that kids used to play with in the school yard in like nineteen sixty three.’

‘It wasn’t nineteen sixty three,’ Ronald replied, looping back onto the track and bouncing up the other side. ‘It was more like the nineteen seventies or something. Not that I was alive yet, but me dad showed me how to make those little mounds of dirt where, if you hit the marble just right with another marble, you’d get the first marble in the hole and win the game.’

‘Are we winning the game,’ Solway asked quite seriously. They did seem to be making good time up the slope.

‘So far so good, but don’t count your chickens,’ Ronald replied which for some reason had his wife break into a fit of giggles. He glanced sideways at Solway. ‘Private joke,’ he said.

‘Fair enough,’ Solway nodded, staring ahead into the growing darkness. ‘Jesus, it’s getting dark early, isn’t it?’

‘Yet another reason why we should be getting out of here. We left the kids with their grandparents and don’t have any way of notifying them that we’re going to be about four hours late home, and knowing my mother, oof…’ His head narrowly missed the window. ‘She will be preparing herself for an almighty row with my dad about whether we’re dead and have gone to heaven or hell yet.’

‘Is she Italian?’

‘No, she’s Scottish. Presbyterian to be exact, and very fond of calling on the Almighty when something goes in the slightest bit wrong.’

‘How the hell can you two be so calm when this is all happening,’ Jenny said breathlessly from under Solway’s arse.

‘Probably because we can both see where we’re going and you can’t.  Not really anyway,’ Solway replied kindly, in her opinion. She adjusted her grip on the handle above the door frame. ‘Don’t worry, I can see the crest of this hill.’

‘Well, that’s just great,’ Jenny replied. ‘Because if I remember correctly, there is a dip after this hill, and then we have another one before we get to the road. Someone give me a jube or a wine gum. I feel the need to suck on something. They’re in the glove box,’ she added helpfully.

Solway began to laugh, then let out a slight shriek herself, which she quickly covered up by opening the glove box.

Sometimes it was better not to see where you were going.

 ______________o______________

The rain had stopped, and Bart was not quite sure how long it would last.

Doing his best to be fast and agile, which he had never been particularly good at, he grabbed a swag out of the back of the four-wheel-drive and carted it over to the lowest, sturdiest tree he could find.

It had a good canopy.

Bart rolled the swag out, congratulating himself on the fact he’d left the bedding inside (pure laziness he had to admit) and that everything would be perfectly dry.

‘I am a legend in my own lunchbox,’ he said proudly. He’d often wondered what that saying actually meant but today it seemed appropriate. It also seemed the wind was coming back, which meant the rain would be here shortly which meant (and now he was beginning to understand the signs) that “she” was definitely here because his thoughts were becoming slightly more garbled than they had been five minutes ago.

‘Oh dear,’ he muttered and grabbed some tent pegs out of the inside pocket of the swag. ‘It may very well be a long night.’

The reason why he thought it was going to be a long night, was because the dark clouds that had been covering the sky all afternoon, were getting increasingly darker (which he had not believed to be possible) and were becoming a definite shade of charcoal or pewter, or some other shade of really, really dark grey.

‘Gunmetal grey,’ he mumbled to himself, thinking of a car he’d once owned. That had been an extrememememely dark grey, although it had also been shiny, and the sky he was comparing the colour to was not shiny, although that very loud crack of thunder he’d just heard was about to make it very shiny indeed, in his humble opinion. He started banging in the pegs with a rock he’d found on the side of the track. After doing that, he ran back to the vehicle, grabbed the esky and a box of food, ran back to the swag, put the esky beside it, the box as far under the bush as he possibly could, hopped inside and hoped for the best.

The Landy lit up.

Oh this was getting exciting. 

It wasn’t like the Landy had caught fire or anything, but it was kind of etched against the background in a sharp relief of light, and behind it, just briefly, he saw something really, really, really big that seemed to be lying on the track, looking at him, and, if he was reading this right, giving him a very large and very friendly smile.

It didn’t seem to have any teeth.

We could be really friendly right now would understanding this help if I got up and hopped in your pocket do you have a pocket, how about we just get naked and fly around on broomsticks okay not broomsticks, and why do we need to get naked, okay we dont his nose was  bigger than your gummy him dead okay well so we do this get it right, big not mine, okay but…

Bart blinked. It was still there.

I don’t know why I should climb over your freshly made up vehicle when I could just float on it, or slide underneath it and like I said, I’m an I but I’m not a you, and you should be pleased to see me and maybe you can call me mum, because nature is not what you think it is boyo, and an irishman once got in my turban, as I thought getting and swaddling babes and indestructible not my humming frightful man

Well, he supposed, that possibly answered a few questions he didn’t know he had. ‘Would you like a piece of chocolate?’

My mum told me to brush my teeth and I bet you didn’t and chocolate, what’s that, sounds sweet yummy in my tummy okay well then I guess that’s a yes

‘Okay, then.’ Bart slowly pulled the packet out of his pocket and smiled to himself. The more he thought about what this giant legless lizard (and she did indeed look like a legless lizard) had thought at him, the more he was beginning to understand she was pre-empting what he was thinking and thinking it for him.

She also seemed to want chocolate, which he began to unwrap… ‘Oh’

A very long, thin, and extremely pink tongue had suckered itself, for want of a better word, onto the chocolate and taken the whole damn thing under the vehicle, along the ground of the sandy track (which did seem to have slight puddles of water on it now) and pulled it back into the extremely large smiling mouth of the creature before him, which now, if he was not getting too confused, seemed to be resting its very large chin on the roof of the four-wheel-drive and creating quite a dent in it.

Not bad for an hour and a half of doing not too much at all when you could have been sensible and just got the point of wrestling, hindering, and crepe paper doilies Many think I’m dreaming from the great mind after the fact was where were we hello mummy and we’re sending renditions and we ass that’s arse and we did not human Fred Fuddly

‘You seem to be getting a little mixed up.’ Bart smiled, feeling the urge to scratch the thing under its chin. ‘Are you lonely?’

I am awake now when  I slept for many thousands/millions of years and  I do not think this is where I am supposed to be and you had a dreaming man here before he wants my precious eyes and he cannot have them and he has disguised himself as something SPLENDID  now and I will look for him and sweet mother of god boy can you hear me now you should run away as fast as your fat little legs can carry you just letting you know Bartholomew you are a very nice man and she will be fine she is with other people and they are saying you will need to wait and that’s okay and I will keep you company, I can shrink down and warm up your bed

For some reason, Bart felt very safe indeed. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let me take my boots off.’

The lizard began to purr.

“Up Shit Creek without a Paddle”

The Landy had stopped again, of its own accord. Bart contemplated the beach before him. The reason why he thought of it as a beach could possibly be the sand in front of the bonnet, and the water beyond the sand  slowly creeping out of the trees and onto the track.

The wind had decided to keep him company. She’d spread out a little bit, and didn’t seem as compacted around the vehicle as she had half an hour ago, and she seemed to be enjoying whipping up little ripples of water into the air and randomly throwing them at the windscreen.

‘I am very quickly coming to the conclusion that this weather has an incredible sense of humour,’ he said.

Random question.

‘What the fuck?’ He lurched sideways on the seat, nearly strangling himself with the seatbelt.

Oh, sorry. I’m back, by the way. The man ducked his head to look out the side window at the sky. Wow, she’s doing a good job, isn’t she? I think I like this one much more than the new one. She’s a hell of a lot bigger. I wonder if she can go all around the world?

‘Why?’ Bart frowned. That was what he wanted to ask this bloke? Couldn’t he think of a better question?

Considering it’s my random question, not yours, I’m not going to answer your question until you answer mine. I think that’s fair don’t you? Fairness being the operative word here, because I am beginning to think we don’t have that around as much as we used to. Not that I’d know, because… well I won’t tell you I’m dead because I’m not dead. I’m just kinda floating around at the moment, and I’m incredibly excited to have someone to talk to. Did I tell you not too many people come down here? Never did, to be honest. They knew it was a flood plain, kinda thing, and no one wanted to get their feet wet. Go figure. Anyway, what was the random question I was going to ask you?

‘How the hell would I know?’ Bart watched the water under the trees. It didn’t seem to be moving anymore, which was lucky. He looked behind the Landrover. The back end was sitting at the edge of the hill. It seemed a lot safer here, although he hadn’t ever felt particularly unsafe this entire afternoon. He wondered what time it was. The wind blew a little harder, giving the vehicle a bit of a shake. It felt like a dog drying itself after a swim.

Oh I remember now. Have you seen her eyes yet?

‘Who’s eyes?’ Bart glanced at the man. His eyes seemed to be smiling, if that was a possibility, which it apparently was, but his mouth was kind of thinned out, and one of his long knobbly fingers was trying to tap the piece of the door where the window went in, whatever that was called, and he didn’t seem to be doing a very good job of it anyway, because the finger was disappearing into the door and not making any sound. His blue-clad knee was also jiggling, which to Bart’s mind indicated the man might be ever so slightly nervous about something, and this now made Bart feel a little bit nervous himself.

Her eyes. According to the old stories she’s got eyes, but no one has ever seen them. I was just wondering whether you had.

‘Oh.’ Bart wondered if he should tell this man what he had seen on the video yesterday afternoon. It might not have been an eye. It may have just seemed like an eye. That it had been in mud, and sitting under what had definitely looked like paperbark trees, of which there seemed to be absolutely none in this area at all, had him seriously considering whether it should be mentioned to anyone at all, and now, it seemed to him that this man, whoever he was, was definitely trying to get information out of him that he did not need to know, and if Bart did tell him, he thought it was possibly not going to end well. He didn’t know why he thought this. He just did.

‘I didn’t see any eyes.’

Why not? Oh fuck. That’s a word I just learnt from you, but I think it’s appropriate. She knows I’m here. The man’s body began to tremble.

‘Who knows you’re here,’ Bart asked, just as the wind started smacking into the passenger side door.

Your lizard friend. She doesn’t like me now, let me tell you. Infact, I am getting the felling fulfilling feeling she wants to eat me, but not too badly, under-snafi fring, wow, I better go.

And, just like that, the man disappeared again, the four-wheel-drive was pushed about five feet up the hill, and the rain really started pissing down.

Bart decided to put on the handbrake.

7/ Making do

Solway found herself sitting on a very apologetic woman’s knee while the woman’s husband frowned furiously at a GPS.

‘I’m sorry there isn’t any more room,’ the woman said for about the third time. ‘We were just heading home from a camping trip,’ she added, which was new information. ‘Ronald likes to take absolutely everything on a camping trip, no matter how short or long it is. He likes to be… –’   She raised her hands on either side of Solway’s head and made ditto marks in the air with her fingers. ‘ – Prepared. Don’t you, darl.’ The last little bit didn’t seem to be a question.

‘I think we’ve lost the signal,’ he replied, which didn’t make much sense.

Solway very carefully adjusted her backside on the woman’s knees. This was a little awkward. The front seats of this vehicle were bucket seats, and every other part of it seemed filled with camping equipment, which was possibly why the woman seemed to be apologising so much. It also now seemed that what she had just said may have been a little white lie, as the woman’s husband (at least Solway thought it was her husband, they seemed rather familiar with each other) had now stopped looking at the thing in his hand and started looking at his wife.

‘I’m not the one who likes to keep this vehicle filled with random camping gear, Jenny, you are. I mean, it’s fair enough that I seem to like getting all the latest new gear and like to see what it does and so on and so forth, but it’s not me who wants to keep it all in the vehicle. That’s you.’

‘Well, I’m not the one who leaves it all lying all over the living room floor and filling up the spare room with it all, and pulling it all out to play with every now and again. That’s you,’ she replied. ‘I think it’s better having it all together in one spot.’

‘Which happens to be this vehicle,’ he said. ‘Which, you know, we shouldn’t really be doing, because adding too much weight to said vehicle is a damn good way to get us bogged in hairy situations such as this one could be, and besides that, if we wanted to pick up random hitchhikers in the middle of the bush, where the hell would we put them? No offence,’ he said, grinning at Solway. ‘But I’m sure my wife’s lap is not where you’d like to be sitting right now.’

‘I don’t want you to feel like you’re putting your safety at risk by picking me up,’ said Solway, then blinked. Where had that come from? ‘I mean, not that your safety is at risk. I just thought I’d put that out there.’

The man, Ronald was his name wasn’t it, grinned. ‘I would be more concerned about whether your safety is at risk, ah… What’s your name?’

‘I think, if my safety was at risk,’ Solway said. ‘You probably wouldn’t be asking my name.’ She began to smile, then hit her head on the window as the woman underneath her adjusted her knees.

‘Sorry,’ the woman, whose name was Jenny if Solway remembered correctly, said. ‘I’m Jenny. This is Ronald, and please don’t turn around to shake my hand because there is just not enough bloody room in the cab for that to happen in a nice way and you’ll probably elbow me in the boob.’

Solway couldn’t help it. She started to chuckle. ‘I’m Solway.’

‘That is an awesome name,’ Jenny said. ‘Where does that name come from,’ she asked, just as her husband said…

‘Is that Norwegian?’

‘Yes.’

‘Cool. I think I have Norwegian relatives from way back in the day. Maybe they were Dutch. Can’t remember. That’s a cool name though. Do you know anything about GPS’s?’ He looked down at the little piece of machinery in his hand. ‘This thing is going haywire. It keeps losing the signal, and that’s just not something that happens.’

‘Why not,’ his wife asked.

‘Because it collects information from satellites,’ Ronald and Solway said at the same time.

Solway tapped her lip thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure whether we really need it though. I just want to get down to where Bart is, and get … Oh.’ She looked in the backseat of the vehicle again. ‘We can’t, can we.’

‘No, we can’t. Well, we can, but there wouldn’t be too much we could do. That’s why I was trying to get the coordinates, so I would be able to place a marker so we could make sure we came back to the right spot, kind of thing,’ Ronald explained. ‘I suppose I could make some kind of physical marker.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better to put the marker at your entry point,’ Jenny said. ‘Rather than, you know, randomly half way down a track.’

‘Does this track veer off anywhere? Like, does it have forks, or pull off points, or random “I’ll just go this way today” mini track type things on it? Just out of curiosity,’ Ronald asked, ignoring his wife.

‘No, it’s just one straight line,’ Solway replied. ‘Well, almost. I mean it turns, but there aren’t any other tracks, not that I could see.’

‘Okay then. Well, we should be right.’ Ronald looked over his shoulder and out of the driver’s side window. ‘I’m going to have to reverse her up off the track so I can turn around. Not that I can see a bloody thing. This rain is insane.’ He scowled as he turned back to face Solway and the wife Solway was quite sure she was squashing into the seat. ‘Maybe we should wait until it stops so I can get a clear view of what we’re backing into. I’ve done this before, and it didn’t turn out well.’

Solway felt her heart sink. It didn’t look like they’d be getting back to Bart this afternoon. As lovely as these people seemed to be, they had their hands full and there seemed to be absolutely no way they could help make things better. Not immediately anyway. She stared out the window at the sleeting rain.

I hope that creek hasn’t risen too much. He’ll be in serious trouble if it has.

‘You don’t happen to have any bars on your phone, do you,’ she asked hopefully.

‘I’m afraid not,’ the woman underneath her muttered. ‘We lost bars as we were coming down from that siding further up on the main road. It didn’t seem too important at the time. I’m sure your partner will be fine,’ she added hurriedly. ‘These sort of things happen all the time, like Ronald said. He’s been in enough situations like this himself. Try not to worry too much about it.’

‘Easier said than done,’ Solway replied, not bothering to hide the distress in her voice.

‘I know how it feels,’ Jenny said softly. Solway noticed her husband’s face had gone very still. ‘Let’s get you back to where the siding is, and maybe then you’ll be able to start making calls. We’ll work out what to do from there.’

‘We can’t do that just yet,’ Ronald reminded them. ‘We have to wait for this rain to stop or we could end up in the exact same situation.’

Intermission — Straight Talk

What’s the why of it? This is the question.

Think of being the smallest child in the family. You have two big brothers, maybe, maybe not. They keep knocking you down, and they say ‘Stay down’.

You get back up.

You start to smile, and yes, sometimes it’s only on one side of your face, but it’s not a half-hearted grin, it’s a smirk.

Sometimes it’s a full-blown grin, and there are a lot of teeth displayed. Do you understand my meaning?

It’s not a display. It’s a willingness to fight. It’s your boxer in the ring, blowing his opponent a kiss. It’s a flick on the nose. Despite your willingness to make me seem small and insignificant, it’s my opportunity to say, ‘Okay. Fuck you too, Have another swing and see where it gets you.’

It’s not cowardice. You will get your diplomatic ones that do not have this little fire inside, They will keep trying to put your fire out. It’s not a physical fire, it’s a mental one, you see?

So, if you give me something to go up against, I’ll go up against it. I’ll circle it, or cross it. I’ll mark it in the sand, and I will say to you, ‘Go ahead, cross this line.’

You should not cross this line. Do not cross this line.

This is why I am telling you this. I’m the diplomatic one here. I’m telling you how it is. It’s a simple process of marking my line in the sand, and you just keep crossing that line.

Why am I not crossing that line? This is my strength that I offer to you. I do not cross the line, but I’ll keep getting up, over and over again. This is what I try to teach my boys.

Be polite.

Be kind, not naive.

Being nervous is okay.

Stand up, step up to the line and smile at your opponent. Use that adrenaline and turn it into a shit-eating grin. That is always the line I wanted to use when I wrote about Jake. Jake was a young man in a fictional story. He was not real, but his legacy is.

‘I feel threatened,’ your opponent thinks. ‘This guy is smiling at me and he has shit in his teeth. This guy (or girl) is saying hello, beautiful, and I think that’s frightening me. Or maybe I think it’s funny because they don’t take me seriously. Or maybe, they know something I don’t, which is often the case in this thought process, or maybe they simply do not give a shit what I do, because they’ll just keep getting back up. I can’t win here.’

Your opponent now has the choice to walk away, give in, or hold out a hand and say he (or she) is sorry. If they don’t then that remains their problem, not yours, because you never started this fight, but you can always finish it.

Here is another very short example. You say bee-sting. I say I have a splinter in my heel that has been there 12 months or more, and it does not concern me. It’s painful. It reminds me I’m alive. Train yourself to remember you’re alive.  

C.S. Capewell

P.S Stop using sticks and start using clicks. Not bait. Just a sound. Just a sound to get your horse to move forward. It’s the exact sound your opponent doesn’t want to hear. Walk on. CSC

Storm (continued), and Windy

Bart realised he was quite good at reversing. He hadn’t been going particularly fast, which helped, but now he was beginning to wonder how the hell he was moving at all.

‘It’s got a flat,’ he said to himself, remembering why they had stopped in the first place.

It’s got four “flats”, actually. That’s what you call those rubber things with no air in them under this “fourby” isn’t it?

‘Oh, you’re still here.’

The man with the big brown eyes and the blue suit beside him smiled. I never left. You just started ignoring me when you were congratulating yourself on what a good job you were doing. He leant back in the passenger seat, part of his back seeming to disappear into it. Not that I mind. Most people ignore me when they come out here. You just seemed to notice me when I woke you up. Have you ever thought about why?

‘I haven’t had much time to think about anything except going backwards,’ Bart replied testily.

And the fact you’ve got four flats, the man reminded him.

‘Why do I have four flat tyres?’ Bart stopped the four-wheel-drive.

It’s better on soft sand, that’s why.

‘How do you know that?’

You read it somewhere, I think.

‘I read it somewhere?’

Yep. That’s how it works. I’m still getting the hang on your brain but the more you think, the more I learn, which is kind of awesomeness.

Bart couldn’t help grinning. ‘Some of that was a little bit wrong.’

I’m not fucking genuses.

The wheezing cackle that escaped Bart’s mouth surprised him. ‘No. I suppose not.’ He looked out through the windshield. The rain was pelting down now, but there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger.

Pelting down? Like fox pelts? I do not see any of those around here. Feral. That’s right. Rabbits. Oh so this is right, cool and death defying.

A vision of red and grey furs softly thumping the exterior of the four-wheel-drive popped into Bart’s brain. ‘This is possibly the oddest situation I’ve ever found myself in,’ he mumbled under his breath.

No kidding. Oh hey, she’s coming again. Not too far away now. You might feel a bit of a shudder. 

‘What?’ Bart knew what the man meant. He was referring to the legless lizard thing he’d been talking about earlier. ‘I thought we left her behind?’

Left her behind? Not likely. You know, I think this isn’t the one I’m used to. The man frowned, and for the first time Bart noticed his magnificent eyebrows. I think this is the old one.’

‘There’s a new one?’

Well, there’s the one I know, and the one that’s a lot older than me. Haven’t seen her for… Well… I haven’t seen her. She went into the ground long before I came along.

‘I’m afraid to ask.’ Bart looked at the man carefully. ‘It’s kind of dangerous for me to ask this anyway, seeing as I’m supposed to have no idea, but…’ He took a deep breath. ‘When did you come along?’

When the land was still all joined up, that’s when. Might have done a bit of island hopping. Not too sure. It was a long time ago. Came down from the top to here. Took a while but you know, it happened. The man looked down at himself. Obviously.  I’m here.

‘So when did the “old one”, as you put it, come along?’

She didn’t “come along”. She was here the whole time. She kindly made this for us/you/me/ them. I’m getting misty. Mateship. Lingering. Obviously.

‘Are you alright?’

The man did indeed seem to be getting “misty” as he put it. Bart couldn’t find quite the correct term for exactly “what” the man was trying to explain, but he appeared to be sliding down through the vehicle’s floor.

Oops, the man said quietly, then disappeared. It was about that time the wind hit.

Windy

6/ Windy

The vehicle shuddered on its flat tyres then seemed to dig itself into the ground as the wind struck. It was almost like a physical thing had run up and surrounded him on all sides without Bart being able to see it.

He should feel trapped, but he didn’t. The funny thing was, if anything could be funny in this particular moment in time, the wind seemed to have come to a sudden halt. It wasn’t not moving, it just wasn’t going anywhere.

It was almost like a huge dog had run up, knocked him over and now bounced around and licked his face – or would be licking his face if it could get inside the cab, which it couldn’t.

Maybe it was more like one of the lions or tigers in one of those African safari parks that jumped on the roof and everyone sat inside and stared at it, titillated but reasonably safe until one idiot rolled the window down.

Bart contemplated if today, he would be that idiot.

He decided against it. It just didn’t seem like the right time for idiocy. Not at this point. Maybe later. He stared through the windscreen. The shrubbery on the side of the road, and he used the word shrubbery loosely when explaining wattle trees to himself, was waving around madly, the light branches bending steeply in the direction of the hill behind him, but the trees in front, where the wind did not appear to be, stood still, like nothing was touching them, not even a breeze.

He was finding it difficult to control his thoughts. They seemed to be racing wildly around inside his head, just like this wind seemed to be doing outside.

‘Just go with it,’ he said to himself politely, which was odd, but it also seemed easier if he spoke out loud to think what he really meant, because now if he kept his mouth closed the mental words were just leaping about with gay abandon and depositing themselves on his thoughts and making everything look, (well everything that was inside his head anyway) …everything look like someone had come inside and thrown around a pile of laundry without a care in the world, despite the open drawers waiting for them.

‘Smart move,’ he called to the wind. ‘I like you too.’

The wind sighed and hushed, then picked up into a gale, then screamed and lost its way and failed to be exactly what he wanted it to be, and then fainted, only to get up and try it all over again.

‘You’ve got some cool moves there,’ Bart said, although he didn’t know why.

Maybe you can play with me, and see where we go, and we can get up and fall down down and run around naked and freak out, and freak in and laugh our way to the top of the world and fall back down, and vertically hover like a moonbeam on a hot day and frequently decide we aren’t going to do this anyway

‘No problem,’ said Bart. ‘I have a feeling I should be slightly afraid right now. I can’t see anyone talking to me.’

Despite your efforts to be totally cool, your mother always sees you as a greasy haired vertical twig with a pot belly You should make sure to brush to the left and not to the right and send loving messages to bestial freaks from afar and western breathtaking breweries make good beer Maybe we should go to the pub

The words floated and shimmered around him as the wind blew, and Bart, being Bart, thought this was the possibly the most exciting moment in his life, aside from that time about nine months ago when he’d met Solway in the newsagency. He also wondered, and not so briefly, whether he should start the fourby up again and keep reversing until he at least got to the bottom of the hill, because he thought, if he stayed here, there might be a high possibility the creek, which was likely no longer a creek but a very fast moving river, would come up past the line of wattle trees and be on the track where he currently was, and it might be a bit hard to get out of there.

He turned the key in the ignition. Like a heartbeat in motion, which was a very odd way to describe a okay I’m just going with it then, the vehicle started up, put itself in reverse, and Bart looked over his shoulder simply for the fact it seemed like a good idea to look like he was actually controlling the very fast reversing of said vehicle, because if anyone was watching, not that anyone was, and saw he didn’t even have his hands on the steering wheel and perhaps was merely a passenger and not even a guide, they might think now was a good time to call the cops because Bartholomew Branson had probably lost his marbles.

He fervently agreed.

Then he decided he should probably place his hands gently on the steering wheel, like his driving instructor had told him to many years before, because if anyone happened to be reading this in their heads later in the day, not that it was likely as he hadn’t written it down, keeping hands on the steering wheel was a very safe thing to do, and the last thing he wanted, when he started up his vlogging business, was have anyone say that Bart Brand was an unsafe influencer.

Not that he’d ever been an influencer of any description, but if he became one, ever, he’d rather be one for good rather than bad, and this seemed like the best possible moment to think that.

~~~~~~,~’~~~~~.~’~~80>

Solway had just come to the conclusion she did not like rain. The rain had stopped some time ago. It had just become really windy, and not in a particularly good way, because her clothing had been soaked through and now she would have to take all her wet gear off in the middle of a track on the side of this very long slope, and try not to let any of her clothes blow away while she was attempting to put them on. She unslung her backpack and let it drop to the ground.

She did not stop to wonder why she was thinking in very long sentences. It was too bloody cold for that. She thought, in fact, that she should probably be thinking in very short, vertically challenged, sentences, because the shivering she currently experienced made her brain think in static, up and down, stop start, beeping machine-like thoughts, rather than long flowing thoughts, and now she had just repeated the same idea in one thought, which would be highly unlikely under any other circumstance because the training she had done before becoming a weather presenter did not allow for that sort of thing and…

‘Fuck. Where the hell is my jumper?’

She stomped a foot down on a dainty pair of knickers someone had thoughtfully placed in her backpack for no reason at all. Letting her underwear fly off into the sunset didn’t seem like a very good idea.

Ah, there it was, under the…

‘Goddammit.’ Bart had also put what looked like a very cheap, but extremely practical, plastic poncho in a side pocket, and if Solway had noticed it earlier, perhaps she would not have found herself in this current predicament.

The predicament being; half-naked standing on a slope covered in short prickly bushes in the middle of the afternoon.

She’d put her jumper on first and then perhaps get out of her jeans and attire herself in those very comfortable warm, fluffy looking tracksuit pants that were not going to fly off into the sunset at all.

*stomp*

Solway sighed. Well. Hopefully someone would get some use out of that sparkly, frilly, lace covered and not in the least bit practical, pair of underwear one day. They certainly seemed to be enjoying the weather, floating around in the breeze like a large demented butterfly. She pulled the jumper over her head.

‘Ooh-hoo-hooo, lovely.’ The warmth was immediate and indeed rather lovely. She unzipped her jeans. A large, black range rover appeared over the rise in front of her. The driver began to grin. Solway, literally, had just been caught with her pants around her ankles. 

‘Oh great. Just great.’ She waved. 

It seemed appropriate and if she thought about it (which at this point she didn’t really want to do) it was probably better they’d appeared in front of her. If they had come up behind her they would have got a full display. As it was though, and she could count her lucky stars for this one, she was semi-squatting and the rather large jumper she had, extremely fortunately, just put on, disguised the fact Solway Endersans was currently wearing no underwear. The vehicle stopped.

‘Need a hand?’ The man grinned, then winced as the passenger Solway had only just noticed, smacked him in the arm.

‘Don’t be such a wanker, Ronald.’ The woman got out of the vehicle and strode towards Solway, a thermos in her grip. ‘I’ll stand in front of you, if you like, while you put your trackies on, then we’ll discuss whether you have sugar or not, and why the hell you are out here in the middle of nowhere.’

Solway smiled. It felt like the first genuine smile she’d made at another human being aside from Bart for quite some time. The sudden tears in her eyes were probably from the wind rushing down this slope and she wiped them away quickly with the hand not holding onto her forgotten jeans.

‘Thankyou,’ she said.

‘You’re welcome.’

Storm

Bart woke up to the sound of his own snores, and the feeling someone had just spoken to him. What was it the man had said in his dreams?

Rain’s coming.

The sense of urgency he now felt was something he could not ignore. He lurched to his feet just as a stiff breeze came down the track. The sound of the creek had become louder and he could feel something grumbling under his feet. As the breeze hit, his floppy hat blew off his head and then there was the sound of a very large splash.

‘What the fuck?’

This time he could hear the voice quite clearly.

You should probably get moving, it said conversationally. She’s here.

The creek, which had been happily gurgling the last time he’d gone down there, now seemed to have a, although still happy, very loud humming sound. An extreeeeemely loud, giggling, humming sound. It was possibly the strangest, oddest, newest, oldest sound he had ever heard in his life. Above Bart’s head, the air had begun to shimmer slightly, and as he went to pick up the, once again, fallen over camp chair, it picked itself up, folded itself neatly, and deposited itself in the back of the four-wheel-drive.

I’m obviously still asleep.

No you’re not.

‘Huh?’

A very tall man stood beside him, deep brown eyes filled with mirth. He wore a very shiny blue suit with black lapels, his long thin legs seemed to reach into the sand of the track, and he didn’t appear to have feet.

You’re not dreaming, he said, although his mouth didn’t move. And, you’re not having a panic attack, just in case you were wondering. We should probably get all your gear into the, he drifted over to the Discovery. What do you call this thing?

Bart felt decidedly out-of-sorts. He seemed to have sat down, but he couldn’t remember doing it. He knew he had though, because there was a twig sticking into his arse.

‘A fourby? A four-wheel-drive? An offroad vehicle? Who the hell are you?’

Today, the man said as he picked up the kettle. I’m your best mate. How do we make your “fourby” move?

‘We can’t make it move,’ he said, and his voice sounded distant, and oddly calm. ‘It’s got a flat tyre.’

Never stopped me before. The man smiled, large white teeth stretching the skin of his face into a happy-go-lucky grin. Somehow, he’d seemed to pick information out of Bart’s head and applied it to himself. He rubbed his hands, then laced the long, knobbly fingers together as he stretched his arms over his head. You should probably get up now, he said, his deep voice making Bart’s mind quiver. I’m not doing this all by myself.

What the fuck is happening? Bart was on his feet again, and seemed to be helping the man shove the folding table into the back of the Landy.

How many names do you have for this thing/fourby/off-road vehicle?

‘Not that many,’ Bart replied, feeling strangely peaceful. ‘Enough to make it a little more interesting, and not so repetitive, I suppose.’

Interesting? Hmfph. Sounds confusing though, don’t you think?

‘Not really.’ This was the strangest conversation he’d ever had with an imaginary person in his life. He knew the man wasn’t actually real. Nobody wore a suit in the middle of the bush, and nobody talked with their mouths closed. He shut the rear of the four-wheel-drive and looked at his companion.

Fair enough. The man was moving his lips now, but it was definitely not in time to his words. I suppose there’s a lot of names for water too, if I think about it. Like, still water, waterhole, rain water, small river, big river and … Yeah. I don’t think she’ll wash you out. Not today. She seems to like you.

‘Who seems to like me?’ Bart glanced around. There wasn’t anyone else here.

The lizard. The man picked up Bart’s backpack. Okay, maybe not exactly a lizard. He flicked his wrist and one of the side doors opened. More of a snake. He paused and pursed his lips then grinned at Bart again.  Well, not exactly a snake. Sort of like a great big snake, but with little tiny legs that don’t move.

‘A legless lizard?’ He didn’t understand why this seemed to be interesting information, but apparently it was.

The man clapped his hands and laughed. Just like that. She’s kind of big though, for a legless lizard.

‘Big?’ Bart seemed to have relaxed into some sort of nightmare. He didn’t know why, but this bloke, whoever he was, seemed friendly, and very helpful. He certainly wasn’t teasing, not like Solway did, and he didn’t seem to be mean or nasty. He just … He just was.

Big, the man repeated. And small, sometimes I suppose. Kind of like a rainbow. She’s a legless lizard though, not a rainbow. She just looks like a rainbow.

‘I’m sorry?’

It’s the sun, you see. Reflects off her, or something. Well sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn’t. Today, here, it doesn’t. He smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders. Possibly because you’re standing in it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter much. She’s here, and that’s all there is to it.

‘So, what do we do?’ Somehow, Bart found himself in the driver’s seat of the four-wheel-drive and the man was sitting beside him. He did not remember how they got there.

Well, just in case she changes her mind, which she does quite a lot, let me tell ya, we should probably go backwards. Forwards, the track you’re on stays reasonably  flat for a really long time. Backwards, it goes up that hill. Remember that hill? The man looked at him inquiringly.

‘Yes.’ Bart shuddered. Listening to this made him think about all the times Solway had narrowly avoided those eucalyptus trees the previous night. It really had been touch and go there for a while.

Ah. You remember how that feels. The man threw the gear stick in reverse, then slapped his bright blue knees, a happy grin on his face. He glanced at Bart expectantly. That’s good. This is going to be a lot worse.

As if of its own accord, the Landy started going backwards.

~~~~~~,~’~~~~~.~’~~80>

The cloud Solway had seen earlier had come in fairly quickly. It began to spit. The rain seemed light for now, but it  also seemed like it would get pretty heavy, pretty quickly.

The track was holding up. It had probably not rained here since the previous spring over six months ago, and there didn’t seem to be any clay in this soil. The ground had become slightly gravelly underfoot – the rocks under her feet were very small, almost pea-like. With the incline Solway was currently scaling, she felt more concerned about turning an ankle than slipping in clay. There wouldn’t be any reptiles out in the open now, not with the way the temp had dropped so rapidly. It would probably be better and slightly more relaxing to walk in the centre between the wheel ruts.

Still no T junction in sight. Surely it couldn’t be that far away. This track had really not seemed that long on the map – only a few k’s max. Why did it feel like she’d been walking for hours?

‘Because I have been walking for hours.’ She took off her cap, shook it,  put it back on again over her smoothed back hair and turned to look back. The slope she’d been walking up felt more obvious from here. Off in the distance she could see the bend she’d come around, and the slight wiggles in the track that had not been so obvious on the aerial map. 

‘What that means is this T junction I’ve been waiting for is coming up.’ She began ticking her fingers. ‘There’s only one track. That’s one thing. There’s a tributary to my left. That’s two.  Oh.’

She hadn’t exactly seen this tributary. Even with the rain, which had been getting distinctly heavier, she couldn’t hear it. That didn’t mean too much, not really. It just meant the water wasn’t moving. But, surely, she’d hear the rain on the water?

‘And what does that sound like,’ she admonished herself. ‘If the water isn’t moving, how am I going to hear it over all this rain, anyway? I’m not. If I really want to know if I’m going in the right direction, I should make sure the tributary is there, right? It’s either that, or keep walking. If I keep walking I’ll hit this T junction, and if I factor in this track is a bastard to walk on, that would have added extra time, so…’ She began stomping along the trail again. ‘I’ll get there soon enough, and I should stop being so impatient.’

Solway jerked her dripping cap back down over her forehead and tried to ignore her soaked long-sleeved shirt. If she stopped for too long, her body temp would drop very quickly and she’d begin to get cold. What she needed to remember was that she was on a rescue mission, and not the one in need of saving.

‘I’m going to have to put on extra clothing soon which means I’ll need to find some kind of shelter so nothing gets too wet.’ 

The bushes in the surrounding landscape were still knee height. She thought back to the map. On the other side of the T junction, it looked like there might be some kind of forest. Maybe when she got there, she’d cross over the road and take a break. The lightweight, silver emergency blanket in her backpack would warm her up, she could change socks, and possibly throw on a windcheater.

‘Not going to do that yet, though. It can wait until I get there.’

For the first time, Solway Endersans wondered if she had bitten off more than she could chew. It was not a comfortable feeling. 

She kept walking.

Bunyip of the Blackwood; Chocolate and Direction

After making absolutely positive Bart had the car keys, Solway left. There had been no particular ceremony in it, or passionate goodbyes – she’d just gone. It was a bit of a let down, in Bart’s opinion. He’d checked on her departing figure a couple of times as she’d walked off along the track, but somewhere between the rise and fall of hillocks he’d not even known were there, she disappeared.

‘Well, I can’t stand around here all day waiting for her to come back,’ he thought, although that’s exactly what he had in mind. ‘I’ll clean up, I suppose.’

He did the dishes, pulled everything out of the back of the Landy, repacked it again (and much better, he thought – he’d always been told his spatial awareness was off the charts), then unpacked it all again when he realised he couldn’t get to the things he wanted as easily as he thought he could. It seemed practicality was a part of packing for camping. Who knew?

Well, he did. Now.

Bart checked his watch. Great. Only an hour had passed. Pulling out the little winding mechanism on the side, he gave it several turns, and tapped the glass for good measure. How would Solway fare when her own digital watch ran out of battery?

Christ, he was being dramatic again.

‘Nobody cares, Bart,’ he said to the trees, then sat down heavily in his camp chair and stared at his boots. ‘Nobody cares.’

God he felt bored.

Maybe he should go back down to the creek again and have a real good squizzy at it? Maybe he could get some mood shots in black and white from his phone? Ooh! Maybe he could do micro shots or whatever it was they were called, and get real closeups of some of the different flora and fauna around the place. He looked around. Not that there was really much to take any good shots of, unless you really liked wattle leaves.Maybe there was something a little more interesting the way Solway had walked?

Bart stood up. He’d just got an idea. Maybe, like those old explorer types did, he could follow the creek a little way, see if it turned anything into like the landscape he’d seen where that (even now he didn’t want to say it was an eye, but it was, goddammit) eye was, and get some photos down there. Then, at least, when Solway came back, she could get some video, or make his photos into video, or something, and they could do stuff with it, and post it on his channel, and maybe, just maybe, someone might find it interesting enough to tell someone else, and maybe they might just get somewhere for a change.

First of all, though, he might just grab himself a cup of tea.

And, maybe, a little piece of chocky.

~~~~~~,~’~~~~~.~’~~80>

She’d finally reached the bend. How long had that taken? An hour and a half? It hadn’t looked that far on the map. Solway adjusted the straps on her backpack. Her legs were getting one hell of a workout in this soft sand. It would be nice to be able to walk on the hump between the ruts in the track, but there could be snakes, so it wasn’t a risk she was prepared to take.

Sunscreen had begun to get in her eyes. It stung. She pulled her cap down lower. One foot in front of the other. It’s the only way she’d be getting anywhere.

______________o_______________

He’d decided against the chocolate. He’d made himself a nice cup of tea and cupped the metal mug in his hands as he sat quietly in the shade, the brim of his floppy hat drawn low. On the other side of the track, past the harsh line of sunlight reflecting off the sand, colour flickered next to a sapling. It was a perfect shade of electric blue. The tiny bird bounced from one less-than-exciting leaf to another, little head cocked on one side. It seemed to be looking for something. A slow smile formed on Bart’s face as three more little birds popped out of the bushes. They were varying shades of brown and seemed to be quite friendly with the first one. Each of them darted off in slightly different directions, like a little gang of pickpockets. He grinned. 

‘Cheeky little bastards,’ he said softly.

The first bird, so tiny that if it were in Bart’s hand he’d be able to cup his fingers over it without even touching its feathers, looked over at him inquiringly. It didn’t seem in the least bit afraid. Bart supposed it was because the little man had three girlfriends. Tough little chicks, he thought, then smiled to himself. 

I could make this into a movie.

In the movie, the male bird, a fairy wren if he remembered correctly, would be riding an electric blue motorbike, and the three females would be strutting around threatening people with… Hmmm. Bart stroked his beard. They’d be threatening people with tiny caterpillars that squirted green gunk when you squeezed them.

I should write this down.

He frowned. I should be taking photos, that’s what I should be doing. Fuck.

He stood up, the camp chair collapsed and just like that, the four little birds disappeared.

Before I go, did you want to help me with

‘Before I go, did you want to help me with the dishes,’ Solway asked just as Bart was grabbing a tea towel.

‘Sure,’ he said, holding the tea towel aloft and flapping it at her. Then he got a good idea. ‘Would you like me to get some extra water from that creek?’

‘What creek?’

‘The one over there.’ He pointed vaguely off into the bush where that strange thump had come from. It had probably been his imagination. Weird things happened early in the morning.

‘I didn’t hear a creek.’ Solway glanced at him sideways as she picked up a large water container.

‘You didn’t hear a creek?’

‘No.’

‘There’s a creek just over there.’ Again, Bart pointed towards where he’d heard the running water. ‘Wouldn’t it be better, if I’m going to be here for a while, for us to use water from the creek to wash dishes, rather than wasting what we’ve got?’

‘Sure,’ Solway scowled. ‘But I didn’t hear a creek, Bart.’

‘Look, just give me a bucket, and I’ll go and get some water.’

‘If you think there’s a creek, Bartholomew Bransson, then get your own fucking bucket. I’m the one doing the dishes.’

‘Wow.’ Bart stomped back to the open rear of the four-wheel-drive. ‘Okay then. I’ll be back in five minutes.’

‘Don’t get lost,’ she called as he walked back into the scrub.

‘Yeah. Fuck you too,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Now you’ve got me second guessing myself, there had better be a fucking creek.’

It wasn’t as dark under the wattle trees now. Patches of sunlight shone through the branches creating little specks of gold on the leafy ground. Something not too far off scuttled under a bush.

Lizard, Bart thought. Not much else would survive in this.

The gurgling sound of water became louder. Debris from the bushes crackled under his feet as he stepped out into the light. The creek was about two metres below him. He backed up. Bits of the bank had fallen into the water, but not too recently. He needed to find a way down.

Why am I even bothering, he thought to himself. I’ll tell me why, he replied. Because I’m going to prove a point to myself this morning if it’s the last bloody thing I do.

He stepped down sideways on the soft ground, the empty bucket swaying from one fist. There were exposed roots here, and he could use them for traction if he needed to. The water wasn’t rushing or anything, so it wasn’t like it was dangerous.

‘Can you swim?’

Solway. Jesus Christ, woman can’t you leave me alone?

‘I don’t think I need to.’

‘I was joking.’

‘Very funny.’

‘So you found this creek.’

‘I did.’ He stepped further down, one foot slipping slightly. He grabbed at a root to steady himself.

‘Need a hand?’

‘I’ve got it.’ He glanced up. Solway was sitting on the side of the bank, legs dangling over the slight drop. She smiled brightly, blue eyes laughing at him. He didn’t smile back. ‘Why don’t you go back to the Landy and start cleaning up?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘And miss out on this? Not likely.’

‘You are not helping me in any way by sitting there and watching, Solway.’ Bart stepped down again. He was really doing quite well, in his humble opinion. ‘Kindly bugger off, and let me get on with it.’

‘Okay then.’

She must have stood up then, because sand cascaded down the slope past his shoulder. Not too far now, and he’d be able to get some water. His feet began to slide. ‘Oh no.’ He looked up again, but she had gone. ‘Thank god,’ he said as he landed on his side and slipped feet first gracefully into the creek. Grinning to himself, he dipped the bucket in and filled it up with water.

Solway wandered back to the camp, carefully stepping over the fallen branches. She’d need to make sure Bart was comfortable by himself before she left. The one thing she was not going to do though, was the dishes without him there. He seemed quite adamant he wanted to help, for reasons unknown, and she respected that.

Bart had never asked what Solway had done for a living before he came along, and the last thing she wanted to talk about was what it was like to work in the industry. Just thinking about it made her feel like spitting, but seeing as there was no one to spit at, she wasn’t wasting her energy.

Some men were absolute pigs. Some women were too, to be honest.

She wasn’t going to think about that today, though. That was not why she was here. Reaching the sand track quite quickly, Solway decided to take a decent gander at their surroundings. The fact she hadn’t even heard the creek Bart was talking about made her feel slightly out-of-whack, and certainly not as comfortable in her own skin as she should be feeling right now.

There was something about this area that, if she thought about it too deeply, was distinctly off-putting.

She folded up the camp chairs and placed them in the back of the Discovery on top of the swags.

‘Dammit,’ she mumbled. ‘What am I thinking? Bart needs a chair, and he needs his swag. What I need to do is just stop for a minute.’ Taking a deep breath, she began to pull it all out again. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t even eaten.

Well, there was no time for that. If Bart could just get a move on from retrieving his bloody bucket of water, they could do the dishes and she’d be on her way. She looked at her watch. The sun had been up for almost two hours now, so she really shouldn’t be wasting any more time.

She took a deep breath. ‘BART.’

‘Kitten?’ He appeared next to her like some kind of wizard, the amazingly full, blue bucket swinging gently by his side. ‘You want to get going don’t you,’ he added. ‘I can tell.’

‘Yes, I really don’t want to stay longer than I have to.’ She dragged the backpack towards herself to check it again.

‘I’m just a little bit concerned about you walking off by yourself,’ Bart said. He was such a sweet guy when he wasn’t being a pain in the arse.

‘I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you,’ she replied, turning to face him.

‘I can look after myself okay, Sol. I did it for years before you came along.’

‘I know, but…’ She looked at his legs. From the knee down they were extremely wet. He must have taken an accidental paddle in that creek. She pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice. He was busy monologuing, and most of it made sense.

‘You don’t need to control everything,’ he continued ‘Have you got something to defend yourself with? You know, if some evil people decide to pick you up or something.’

Solway laughed then, long and loud, and kissed her partner on the cheek. ‘You’re an idiot. I can handle myself, don’t worry about that. Nobody will get close enough to get handsy, so I doubt anyone will be dragging me into their car anytime soon.’

‘You don’t know that though.’

‘We’re not in a place where that kind of thing is the norm, Bartholomew. I think you’ve been reading too many of your magazines.’

He smiled then, and she sighed with relief. She had been pushing him this morning, she knew it, but just as she’d expected, Bart had stepped up and made himself useful.

‘Why don’t you get going then,’ he said, surprising her once more. ‘I can do these dishes. And,’ he lifted a finger and shook it at her. ‘I’ll clean up the campsite as well.’

‘Don’t pack everything up just yet,’ she warned. ‘I might not get back tonight.’

‘Do you think it will take that long? It’s not like we’re in the middle of nowhere.’

‘I know, but it will likely take me a few hours to get where I need to go. I’m walking, remember. Then, if they actually have reception, I can make a call. If not, I’ll have to rely on someone else to get the help we need. These things can take longer than expected sometimes, that’s all. I need you to be aware of that.’

‘Oh.’ He smoothed his beard, eyes beginning to lose focus.

‘There’s chocolate in the console between the front seats.’ Solway nodded at the car, then pushed his shoulder gently. ‘Why don’t you wait until you really want it. It can be a reward.’

You might think this is rolling out in a bad way…

But this is why it is best to read something in its entirety, not just in pieces.

Either way, it’s never what you think it is.

While Bart relaxed comfortably on his camp-chair eating breakfast, Solway  inspected the tyres. Her legs poked out from under the vehicle like two popsicle sticks and a language he’d never heard before started floating back towards him. Maybe it was time to offer some help.

Snatching the last piece of bacon out of the cooling frypan, he plodded towards her elastic-sided boots. ‘What’s happening?’

‘Very bad things, that’s what.’

‘Do you want me to have a look?’

‘Grab my legs, will you?’

Solway’s voice sounded almost as crispy as the bacon. He shoved it all in his mouth as quickly as possible, looked at his greasy fingers, decided if he was going to wipe them on anything it would be her jeans, not his, and grabbed her legs just above her fuzzy explorer socks. ‘Won’t you get sand in your hair if I drag you out like this?’

‘I honestly don’t care.’

‘Okidoki then.’

Bartholomew Branson was many things, but coordinated was not one of them. His act of pure power, dragging Solway out from under the four wheel drive, ended up with him falling backwards into the native grass on the edge of the track, one of Solway’s feet lodged neatly in his crotch, and hysterical laughter coming from the woman attached to the other end. He smiled happily to himself. This was the sound he always aimed for when it came to Solway. It took a lot to get her to crack a smile, so hearing her laugh made him think that, occasionally, just occasionally, he could do the right thing.

She rose from the sand and started scratching twigs and clumps of dirt from her beautiful blonde locks. Her smile faded almost immediately. ‘I should’ve put on a beanie,’ she muttered.

‘You can’t get everything right.’ Bart rose from the ground himself, just not quite as majestically as she had. ‘What’s wrong with it?’ He nodded at the vehicle.

‘Oh you know. Everything.’ She sighed. ‘No, it’s not that bad. I just had to pull what looked like half a forest out from underneath it, but I blame myself for that one. After all, I was the one who decided we couldn’t wait.’

‘I didn’t try to stop you,’ he reminded her gently.

‘I know, but you know I wouldn’t have listened anyway. The back wheel’s fucked. I wasn’t wrong about that. That branch pierced the sidewall, so it’s not just a puncture. We could patch it up with some duct tape I guess but there’s absolutely no air in it, so even if we got back out to the bitumen, we wouldn’t get very far.’

‘What if we…,’ Bart gazed around at the scenery. ‘Never mind.’

‘What if we what?’

‘Oh I saw this tv show once where the guys filled the tyres up with spinifex just to keep going, but they were in different country to this, and I just can’t see what we could use here.’

‘Sounds like a perfect way to start a fire,’ Solway muttered.

Bart frowned. ‘They stopped driving when the tyres started smoking which, as you know, is a pretty good indicator a fire is about to start — so that didn’t happen, Solway. Look, why I’m arguing with you about a tv show, I don’t know. What I do want to know though, is this. Are you going to let me help you or not.’

She dusted off her jeans, not meeting his gaze. ‘I’ll walk back for help.’

‘What?’ Surely he wasn’t that useless? He’d eaten all the bacon. Now he felt like a piece of toast.

‘I’ll walk back for help. Okay, not back, forwards.’ She turned and pointed eastwards, then traced the air with a finger. ‘This track circles towards the road in a couple of k’s and I can head down that way. I think there’s a siding not too far along, so I’ll probably be able to get someone to help us from there.’

He cleared his throat. ‘Right. Well, that sounds sensible.’ It sounded a lot more sensible than he felt at the moment. 

Sick was how he felt. Sick to the stomach. And, very upset, if truth be told. He’d never felt like bursting into tears before, aside from that time in year five when some kid had stolen his school bag but right now, it seemed like something had just broken in Bart Brand’s soul, and he did not know how to fix it.

‘Not that I know how to fix anything,’ he muttered.

‘Sorry?’

‘Nothing.’ He turned away. ‘Nothing at all. I suppose you want me to stay here and look after our belongings just in case someone turns up, and all that sort of thing.’ He adjusted his jeans. They seemed a little looser, but that was possibly because he’d slept in them all night.

‘Yes please.’

He glanced back as Solway pulled a backpack over the backseat.

‘Could you find me a water bottle, please,’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ Bart said quietly. ‘No problem.’ He headed for the back of the vehicle.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

He didn’t bother answering. He didn’t see the point.

Popcorn (continued). Bunyip of the Blackwood

Before I do the old copy/paste thing, I’ll tell you that a little voice inside my head told me I am tempting fate. I’m not tempting fate, mate. I am fate. Pull up your pants and let’s get on with it.

~~~~,~’~~~,~’~80>

Bart opened his eyes to a grey light creeping into a silent sky and a desperate need to relieve himself. The hardly visible glow of dawn made it almost impossible to make out their new surroundings. The previous night, aided by the vehicle’s brake lights, Solway had placed his swag in the wheel rut on one side of the track and now he quietly unzipped it, struggling to release himself like a rotund terrier from a rabbit-hole as he felt for his boots. You never knew if a little bitey would make a home in your footwear when you were sleeping rough, and it didn’t matter what you did — if you didn’t check, it would happen. He shook the boots vigorously yet as silently as possible, unwilling to wake his sleeping partner, then grabbed a nearby twig to poke in them as well.

Solway’s soft fluffy snores from the other single swag made him smile, but he didn’t let it distract him. He really needed to take a piss. Pulling on his boots, Bart stepped off the track.

Due to the fact the sun had not yet risen, and daybreak really seemed to be taking its bloody time, it remained dark under the low canopy of trees. Bart slowly stepped over saplings and dropped branches, flapping furiously at the stickiness of unseen cobwebs. He stopped. Should he face away from the road or towards the road when he went to the loo. Did it matter? There didn’t seem to be anyone else here, aside from a distant raven heralding the oncoming daylight. The track, once they’d come off the hill, had been terribly overgrown. Once again, Bart assumed it to be highly likely no one had been this way for a very long time. He could hear the gurgle of running water not too far away and shivered in response, then heaved a sigh of relief as he began to water the plants.

The sun was rising. Wattle bushes began to take shape before his eyes and tiny, unseen birds started to chirp. Solway had told him in order to get a real good feel for a place you had to take in all the sights, sounds, smells and be aware of what local wildlife to look out for. It made better footage, she said, if you at least tried to sound like you knew what you were talking about. He couldn’t smell anything except for the acrid stench of his own piss and he couldn’t see the bloody birds. He had no idea where they were. 

Somewhere in the trees, he thought. Which isn’t helpful.

A heavy thump reverberated through the soles of his boots. If he could explain it as a bang, he would have, but it was not a bang it was a really big thump and he didn’t know what the fuck it was and, if it could be anything alive, why he didn’t hear it again, or which direction it had come from.

It was not a kangaroo. Of that he was ninety seven point nine five and a bit positive.

Kangaroos jumped when they weren’t grazing. If he’d heard a kangaroo, or disturbed one, or whatever, it would have made more than one thumping sound, that’s for sure.

It wasn’t a branch. If it had been a falling branch, it would have had to have fallen from a very big fucking tree, and there were no trees big enough to make that sound.

Bart realised he’d been spraying the surrounding scrub as he’d turned, searching for whatever the hell it was and somehow, he’d become a sprinkler system and it didn’t matter. He needed to know where the fuck that sound came from — and the cracking sound that had just happened behind him. He lurched around again, tripped over the low bush he’d been pissing on, and landed on his arse on something decidedly prickly.

‘What the hell are you doing,’ Solway asked from above his head.

He let go of his dick. ‘Nothing?’

‘You are a fucking weirdo sometimes, Bart,’ she said, pointing a roll of toilet paper at him. ‘Do you need the shovel?’

He pulled up his fly and got to his feet. ‘No thanks, I’m good. Go do your thing. I’ll just head back to the Landy.’

The sun had fully hitched itself over the horizon as he reached the sand – the long shadow created by the four-wheel-drive nearly reaching his swag. His heartbeat began to slow as he opened the back door and started searching for something to eat, then the hush of footsteps on the track had him looking over his shoulder at Solway’s grinning face.

‘Hungry, are ya?’

‘I’m a tad peckish, yes. He pulled a cardboard box towards himself. ‘Did we bring milk?’

‘We did, it’s in the…’ She looked him up and down. ‘Are you trying to distract me?’

‘No?’

‘What happened back there, Bart?’

‘I heard something. God, I sound like a little kid in an American movie. Did you hear something?’

She smirked and shook her head. ‘Just you, falling all over the place. What scared you?’

‘Nothing? Okay,’ he sighed as she raised one perfect eyebrow. ‘Look, I know what roos’ sound like, and I know it wasn’t a roo, okay? I don’t even think there are roos’ around here. It was just one big thump, I didn’t know what it was, I got spooked, and then you turned up.’

She grinned again. ‘Are you going to get that box out of the back of the vehicle, or are you going to balance it there on the edge of the seat forever.’

‘Oh come on,’ he muttered. ‘I was pulling it out from under that friggin’ blanket when you turned up, and I am just about to remove it, if you’ll just give me a bloody minute and if you like, I’ll take it back to wherever it is you want to set up the camp oven. How’s that?’

‘That’s great,’ she replied, smiling even wider. ‘But you could have waited until I’d pulled out the table and set that up before taking out that bloody box. So, I guess you’re hungry.’

Bart sighed again, so deeply he felt his shoulders rise and fall. ‘I am hungry, okay? I got a fright, and I just want a biscuit, a cuppa coffee, and a sit, alright?’

‘That’s fine.’ Solway gave him a hug. ‘I’ll grab everything and get the kettle going. Why don’t you grab a bickie while I set it all up.’