He gazed at the beauty he’d married, contemplating her words and enjoying her fine features once again. Even after twenty years of marriage, Mishy was beautiful and could still steal his breath away. As a pretty twenty-year-old single and nearly two decades ago, Mishy and her aging parents were visiting central Australia from Sydney when she met Butch at a country dance raising funds for the Royal Flying Doctor in The Alice. They fell in love on their first dance and Butch pursued her relentlessly after that night until she consented to become his wife twelve months later; and now they had a family-–three stunning girls. It was a big ask for any country-bred girl to marry into the station lifestyle, let alone a born and bred city girl. The life was lonely and isolated with the closest neighbours hundreds of kilometres away, making socialising with outside people rare and the work tedious and impossible to separate from family life, but Mishy never complained and took to her surrounds like she was born to it.
Mishy suddenly interrupted his thoughts and pointed to the luxuriant green lawn. “Take me outside and sit with me, husband. Everything always seems better after staring at the stars.”
The highlight of the day was spending time relaxing outside with Mishy and the girls, lapping up the cool evening air and gazing up at the myriad of stars above them before the chill of the night settled over the desert oasis.
In recent times, strange purple flashes appeared in the sky and disappeared over the horizon. Butch couldn’t remember seeing this phenomenon before in his life, until this extended drought suddenly turned up ten years ago and sucked the life out of Pearl Springs. Eddie’s superstitious mind blamed the strange purple flashes for the drought and wouldn’t even talk about the phenomenon. In the rare occasion he did offer an opinion, all he would say was, “Bad sky, bring nothing but bad luck to the country!” and he’d stalk off.
Butch extinguished the floodlight, settled into a garden recliner on the lawn and reached for Mishy’s tiny frame, settling her on his lap and wrapping her in his embrace. As they gazed silently to the spectacle above them, the cacophony of crashing and disoriented flying insects—searching for the floodlight and their food source—soon abated and settled into an ear piercing silence. A lone dingo howled from a secluded ridge, his yearning bawl smothered by the vast desert plain, mournfully disrupting the absolute night time calm and intensified the feeling of isolation. Mishy shivered in Butch’s embrace and her quiet voice drew his attention from the sky to her dark silhouette.
“Even after twenty years of living in the bush, that sound still haunts me,” she whispered.
Butch’s arms tightened around Mishy, reassuring her she was protected. A fiery meteor distracted her concentration and held her attention as it streaked across the exquisite painting hanging above them, while Butch contemplated the starlight reflected in Mishy’s innocent eyes and fell in love once again. She suddenly realised he was staring at her and turned to meet his gaze with an adoring smile.
“What?” Mishy whispered.
“I love you, Mrs Slater.”
“I love you too, Mr Slater.”
The emptiness and isolation of the bush at night could be a threatening place but in Butch’s arms she felt content and safe, with the warmth of his kiss intensifying Mishy’s depth of emotion. Somehow the stars seemed brighter tonight and her fear drifted away, but something kept niggling at her. For reasons she didn’t understand, Mishy felt a deep sense of uneasiness and the dark desert night seemed to reflect it, too. Awed by a display of streaking meteors graffiting their fiery tails upon the darkened heavens and finally extinguishing their impressive light in the thickening protective atmosphere, Pearl Springs appeared to be the centre of a intuitive cosmic light show.
Toward the west, a sudden flash of purple erupted across the sky and lit up the horizon like a welder's arc. Following the strange event closely, Butch and Mishy stared at the phenomena in silence until Butch suddenly whispered, “No one has been able to satisfy me with a plausible explanation for those purple flashes yet.”
Before Mishy could speak, another flash erupted across the dark sky, reflecting in her wide and staring eyes. “Wow, that sure is eerie!” Mishy responded, dazzled by the brightness of tonight’s display.
Their attention was suddenly diverted by a white glow on the horizon, the unmistakable signature of an approaching vehicle.
“We're not expecting visitors are we?” Mishy verbalised what Butch was thinking.
“No, not that I am aware of,” Butch replied, staring at the horizon in the direction of the intensifying light and watching the beam weave and dip as the vehicle negotiated the multitude of dry river crossings and the rough gravel road surface. It was usual for people meaning to visit from other stations to call ahead and announce their intentions before making a substantial trip to a neighbour’s property, minimizing the possibility of a shotgun pellet greeting.
But visits rarely, if ever, occurred at night.
“Better get back inside with the kids,” Butch demanded, his demeanour suddenly turned serious. “I don’t like this; it may be trouble. Take the girls and lock yourselves in the bathroom until I give the all clear. I’ll get the shotgun!”
*~*~*~*
Chapter 12
The homestead flyscreen door slammed shut behind Mishy, reverberating up the passage and sealing outside the menace of an unknown and unexpected visitor as well as a cloud of swarming insects attracted to the kitchen lights and the thick cooling night air. Butch’s warning struck terror into her heart. Seldom did visitors come to the homestead unannounced. But never at night. Urgent footsteps hurried past the open kitchen door, Mishy’s gait breaking from a brisk walk to a subdued run and making the floor beams squeak and clack loudly under her sandalled feet. As she made her way hastily up the stone-walled passageway and towards the girls’ bedroom, Mishy pushed the door open with such ardour, the sudden appearance of the girls’ mother—obviously panicking—caused Danica and Jess to jump with fright.
“Quickly, girls, get into the bathroom! Where’s Molly?!” Mishy’s flustered voice demanded.
“She’s in the lounge room, Mum. What’s going on?!” Danica’s voice cracked with concern, glancing up from her prostrate position atop her bed.
“I’ll explain in a minute; just get into the bathroom while I round up Molly.”
The two girls rushed down to the bathroom herded by their mother and once they were safely behind the solid closed door, Mishy made a beeline for the lounge room to find Molly.
“Molly! Sweetheart, where are you?!”
“In Daddy’s chair, Mummy,” Mishy’s youngest daughter called back, wondering whether she was in trouble for climbing into her father’s chair. Molly gazed at her unshod feet, then focused on her pink socks, determining her innocence and absolutely certain she had kept the ‘no shoes in the lounge room’ part of family law.
Relieved to have found her missing child, Mishy swooped up the six-year-old from Butch’s recliner and then hurried towards the bathroom, hugging her daughter tightly. Finding the bathroom door, Mishy swung it wide, entered with Molly and threw it shut with a resolute bang, then shifted the substantial bolt across into the locked position with a sturdy thunk. Gazing around at the worried expressions of her daughters and mentally taking stock, Mishy threw the light switch off with an abrupt click, stealing the light from the room and plunging the occupants into fearful darkness.
“Mum, I’m scared. What’s happening and where’s Dad?!” Danica pleaded, her voice quavering in the darkness.
“There’s a car approaching along the access road and your father has taken his gun and gone to investigate. Like he’s always said, he wants us safe and locked in the bathroom until he has made sure our visitors mean us no harm.”
Danica’s paused as she chewed on the significance of her mother’s words and pondered her father’s demands. Were they really so vulnerable to strangers?
Many moments dragged past as the four women listened in complete silence to the n
oises of the house from within their protective bathroom sanctuary. For a long time, the only sounds were their own strained breathing and galloping heartbeat pounding in the deafening quiet. Mishy leaned closer to the door, trying to determine what was happening outside. The unbroken silence seemed to stretch on relentlessly until the unmistakable sound of an approaching vehicle divided the still night.
A sudden loud blast tore through the calm, making the girls jump with fear and whimper in terror. Trying to reign in her own panic and keep the girls calm and quiet, Mishy’s trembling voice hushed their frightened cries lest they give away their hiding place. Mishy’s heart was still pounding as she tried to reassure the girls and gauge what had just happened, drawing her children into her protective embrace and silently praying for Butch while trying to remain calm and decide what to do. Butch had repeatedly drilled the women for just such an occasion and he was adamant they weren’t to come out of hiding until he had given the all clear.
*~*~*~*
Loading two shotgun cartridges into their respective barrels, Butch nervously and determinedly shifted the safety to off. Holding the gun in one hand and pointing the business end towards the darkened sky, he expected the approaching vehicle driver would see the menacing weapon in his headlights and advance with utmost caution. He stood in the centre of the access road some distance from the homestead just prior to the cattle grid and waited, watching the approaching spotlight beams cutting through the darkness and painting eerie bouncing shadows on the homestead roof.
Then as the vehicle came closer, its focused powerful beams picked up on Butch standing in the middle of the road, momentarily blinding him while the vehicle came to a panicked skidding stop. Clouds of red dust engulfed the vehicle lights in a plume of choking smoke-like powder, making it difficult to see past the lights.
In a moment of decision, Butch discharged his shotgun into the air, proclaiming a serious warning and his intent to defend his family and home without regard for his own safety, or the vehicle occupants.
Immediately, the lights dipped to low beam, followed by a chorus of flashing blue light from a light bar attached to the vehicle roof, reflecting eerie disco-like blue shadows.
“Butch! It’s Sergeant Bob Maxwell, Birdsville Police,” the driver yelled from the window of his dust smudged, white coloured Land Cruiser.
Recognising the police vehicle and long time friend, Butch breathed out an anxious breath and dropped the business end of the barrel to face the ground. “Bob! What on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?! You about scared ten years life out of me and nearly scored a couple of rounds of buckshot into the bargain!”
Bob knew the unspoken law about approaching isolated properties in the dead of night and unannounced. His job sometimes required him to take risks like this in extreme situations and possibly bring him into unintended conflict with the very people he was trying to protect. “Sorry for coming unannounced, Butch, but I couldn’t get through to anyone here and there is some nasty business going on in the neighbourhood of late and I just didn’t like the feel of things. You and the girls are a long way from anywhere here and your phone appears to be out. None of your neighbours could raise the homestead by email or VHF either.”
Butch approached the idling Land Cruiser and leaned down on the open window in line with the familiar policeman’s tired face, puzzled at his disclosure, but thankful he had friends like Bob Maxwell who would drive six hours on deteriorating outback roads at night just to satisfy a whim and make sure Butch and his family were okay.
“Come on in, Bob, and I’ll get the girls out of hiding. Then you can have a shower and freshen up while Mishy throws some food together for you... that’s if she’s still talking to you after scaring the life out of her.”
Bob smirked briefly at Butch’s remark, fully aware Mishy couldn’t hold a grudge against anyone; but his reasons for being here were not a laughing matter. The police Land Cruiser squealed to a stop just short of the homestead door, dowsed its lights and extinguished the engine while Bob eased his big solid frame from the driver seat and then shook hands with Butch in a relieved greeting.
“You are staying the night with us, Bob?”
Bob nodded. “If it’s no inconvenience, Butch.”
*~*~*~*
Mishy caught her breath and hushed the girl’s whispered whimpers, listening to footsteps approaching the wooden verandah and then the unmistakable screech of the flyscreen door as it opened, allowing whoever into her home. She sighed in anguished relief when she heard Butch’s relaxed speech talking to someone else, while the other voice seemed somewhat familiar but she couldn’t place it.
“Mishy, sweetheart, it’s all clear. We have a visitor all the way from Birdsville!”
Mishy sighed in relief, flicked on the light and pulled back the bolt, releasing the four women from their protective sanctuary.
“Uncle Bob!” Molly squealed, recognising the visitor immediately and running as fast as her little legs would carry her towards the esteemed caller, blissfully unaware of the drama that had led to his arrival. Bob caught the exuberant six-year-old rocket in mid flight and swung her over his shoulder in a happy greeting while Molly giggled excitedly, loving the attention from her favourite policeman.
“Thanks for the evening entertainment, Bob,” Mishy jested sarcastically as she welcomed their visitor with a hug. “What brings you all this way?”
Bob scanned the room, scrutinising the inquisitive faces. In turn, they returned his expression, expecting an appropriate answer for the unconventional visit. “I need to talk to you and Butch. And just to set the record straight, madame, I did try to ring and send emails, but even the VHF wouldn’t work. I even called your neighbours to relay a radio message, thinking the Birdsville signal may have dropped into solar flare void. When no one could reach you, I set out, thinking something untoward was at play.”
Mishy turned to face Danica with a questioning gaze while her daughter’s red-faced response answered Mishy’s question. “I would guess Danica has been downloading pictures from her friend in Switzerland; and our phone sometimes doesn’t work when the internet is downloading to our computer. As for the VHF, I’m sure that was working.”
Followed by a curious crowd, Mishy made a track for the kitchen shelf and the VHF radio set occupying its greatest portion. The power light was green indicating the set was on, but when she examined the settings, the volume had been turned right down.
“That’s odd,” Mishy puzzled and then she remembered. ”I must have bumped the volume control when I was dusting earlier. I remember the duster caught around the dial but I didn’t think to check its position afterwards.”
Now it was her turn to wear a red face. She turned up the volume again and reached for the receiver and did a test call to a nearby station, immediately receiving a relieved response from an anxious neighbour. Returning the receiver to its place and satisfied all was well, Mishy glanced sheepishly at Butch and then to Bob with an apologising expression; but before she could speak, Butch filled the silence.
“We owe you an apology, Bob, for a wasted trip,” Butch offered. “But surely a visit from a neighbour in the morning would have avoided a long trip for you?”
Bob uneasily glanced at the girls and then back to Butch and Mishy. “As I said, I need to talk to you, preferably not in the presence of the kids.”
*~*~*~*
Chapter 13
After a soaking hot shower, Sergeant Bob Maxwell’s navy blue police uniform had been exchanged for a relaxed sweat shirt and strides. With his heavy frame mushrooming over a sturdy wooden kitchen chair and pushed up to the table as far as his munificent midsection would allow, Bob hungrily shovelled generous amounts of Mishy’s home cooking into his masticating jaws, momentarily captivating famished tastebuds in a delectable salivating delivery. With a massive groaning belly cavity demanding food, the sumptuous meal didn’t stay long enough around protesting taste buds to savour the delight, before the m
ix prematurely disappeared down a cavernous slippery slide and into the realms of Bob’s vast stomach. A damp red fringe hung lazily over his eyes and tickled the bridge of his nose, until he lost patience with the annoying strands and swiped it from his face like swatting at a persistent bush blowfly. Only to have it fall down across his nose once again when he leaned over his plate and shovelled another high-performance forkful, repeating the amusing scene over.
Mishy attended their guest like a good hostess would, offering another helping of food or another glass of cold water while in each case and with extremely well rehearsed manners, he would oblige the lady of the house and courteously devour anything she put in front of him. Bob Maxwell had been remote Birdsville’s only policeman for nearly twenty years and everyone in his vast, but sparsely populated desert policing district knew and loved the esteemed bachelor. He would do anything—and often placed his own life at risk—to assist a friend or neighbour; but do the wrong thing by the law, mess with the people he loved or get on the wrong side of the eccentric law enforcer, the red-head-switch would abruptly overload and shift to pernicious in less than a heartbeat.
From down the passage, an eager figure skipped into the kitchen, bathed by her sisters and clothed in her nightgown and slippers, ready to wish her favourite policeman a hearty goodnight before turning her attention to her mum for a kiss and then a much coveted cuddle from her daddy. Moving from adult to adult until satisfied her nightly routine had been fulfilled, Molly skipped back up the passage singing, “G-n-i-g-h-t!” as she left.
“Molly?!” Mishy’s voice followed her youngest down the passage.
“Yes, Mummy?!” the skipping stopped and a tiny voice answered.
“Tell Danica and Jess we’ll be in to say goodnight in half an hour then lights out, okay!”