BunyipoftheBlackwood

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.’

the rest of that very short chapter, and a little bit more… (story completed in March 2025 over an eleven day period). You’re Welcome

He pushed her hand away. ‘No thanks. I can get up by myself.’ The sideways roll onto his hands and knees and the flailing grasp at a dining chair had him reconsidering those words a few moments later. He crawled to the wall, vaguely resembling a portly tug-boat in high seas with a broken motor. It must have set something off in his insides as well for, as he scrambled to find purchase on the smooth surface of the plasterboard, his backside let out what may have been in any other orchestral situation, a sliding trombone-like sound.

‘Fuck me,’ he heard from behind him, accompanied by a most unlady-like snort.

‘Shush,’ he said. ‘My body is obviously extrememememely excited.’

‘Apparently,’ Solway responded as he slowly lurched to his feet. ‘Okay. I’ve made an executive decision. Get the camera gear packed up. I’m going downstairs to check what supplies we have remaining. If I don’t come back, I’ve gone to the shops. We’ve got about forty-five minutes until they close, so I need to get moving.’

‘Okay. While you’re down there,’ he said as she strode towards the front door. ‘Could you see if we’ve got any…’ The door slammed behind her. ‘…Yoghurt… Bugger.’

~~~~,~’~~~,~’~80>

2/ “Popcorn”

Solway demanded they start back to the campsite as soon as possible when she’d returned from the supermarket, despite the fact they’d be driving into the night. Their hasty departure had been a little too exciting, especially when accompanied by questions Bart couldn’t answer.

‘I don’t even know where it is,’ he said as she shuttled him to the old Discovery. ‘It could be bloomin’ anywhere, Sol, we were all over the southwest escarpment on the weekend.’

‘We’ll find it,’ she’d replied, almost throwing him towards the passenger door. She ignored his masculine mutters of surprise. ‘Just get in the car and put on your seatbelt.’

‘I am NOT a child,’ he muttered, hunching down in his seat and refusing to suck his thumb.

She’d ignored him and started the engine.

By the time they’d hit the bridge two hours later, Solway had made the decision to go offroad.

‘We’ll take this one.’ She slowed and nodded at a fire break rising beyond the reflective posts. ‘Might be a little bit faster getting back to where we were last.’

‘You don’t even know if that’s where it was,’ he protested but again she ignored him.

That’s when things got a little hairy.

He’d always trusted Solway, but after the hour and a half drive into the oncoming night, it was almost like something possessed her. The headlights of the Land Rover waved crazily over the darkened scene as the trail entered a local forest. Low bushes began to scrape the side of the vehicle and slid underneath the chassis with inhuman shrieks. Bart became quite sure his life was at risk — despite the fact they were only doing about ten k’s an hour.

‘Do we know this track,’ he asked. ‘Doesn’t look like it’s been used for quite a while.’ He peered out the window at very large trees and dense shrubbery. It looked very dark out there.

‘No,’ Solway answered, and he noticed her grip on the steering wheel changed. ‘I don’t want to break a thumb,’ she muttered at his silent question.

Bart blinked furiously and turned off the radio. That’s when he began to feel like popcorn in a frying pan.

They lurched and jerked over holes, his shoulder hitting the door with frequent abandon. He was quite positive it would bruise his sensitive skin. Branches swiped at the windscreen, scarred trunks of the occasional eucalypt leapt up in front of them, and it seemed only Solway’s impressive reaction time was stopping them from hitting anything at all.

He was not sure whether he should tell her he loved her, or ask her to stop. He settled with holding onto his seat and the handle above the door for dear life.

They finally came to a halt after a descent onto level ground where the sand that had slowly replaced the firm dirt of the hill became too soft. Solway’s grim face, after a quick inspection of the vehicle with a flashlight revealed a flicked-up branch had pierced the back tyre, had him assuming they had not yet replaced the spare. They’d have to doss down here for the night.

~~~~,~’~~~,~’~80>