Neji nodded his head and went over to a wall that was covered in hand prints and placed his own tight against the rock. Then he drank the milky substance and blew it out around the uplifted hand. What remained was one more imprint upon time. It would last throughout the ages, just like those of the elders before him.
“Can I?” asked Donovan eagerly.
“No,” said Neji sternly. “It’s a sacred family ritual. No Balandas.”
Donovan turned his attention to another wall, feeling embarrassed. “Is this another ancestor?” he inquired about another drawing of a bird.
“That’s Djuway, a bowerbird. He keeps the initiation ceremonies. And over there..,” he pointed to the outline of a sea eagle, “Marrawuti.., snatches away the spirit when we die.”
He aimed for another, “And that croc is Ginga. He got the lumps on his back when he was blistered in a fire. Made the rock country.”
Then he went back to wall with the handprints and motioned for Donovan to join him there.
“Thought it was against the rules, since I’m just a white boy,” he said sarcastically.
“I forgot that we were in this together. Sorry for bein’ a jerk. Come on and put your hand up,” Neji urged.
Donovan plastered his hand against the wall next to Neji’s and took the bowl in the other hand and filled his mouth with the ocher. Then he reared back and spat it out all around his hand. When he took it down, he swiped his mouth that was now covered with the chalk and then wiped it down his side. He was beginning to look more like Neji. He looked at the imprint and was proud of what he saw.
Neji said, “When others see it they will know there were two natives here. See how our hands look the same?”
“I can see it,” grinned Donovan.
“Come on,” Neji stepped outside of the cavern. “You said you were hungry. Tomorrow you will have to really get your hands dirty, if you want to learn to live off the land.”
“Tomorrow is a new day, brother Neji. And I shall again demonstrate my fastidious warrior skills,” replied Donovan.
“Indeed, Miro,” Neji laughed speculatively, as they drew comfort around the campfire and made good of their catch. “Now have a taste of this,” he handed Donovan a chunk of meat that he had just torn away from the belly of the lizard.
The goanna was bearable, but the Thorny Devil was off limits, and Donovan was all the merrier for it. He had just cleaned a thigh bone for Neji and started to give it to him for his collection, but decided that he should make his own. So he wedged it into his backpack instead, while he still worked at cleaning the fish.
“So what all do you keep in that sack of yours?” asked Neji.
“Just a little bit of this and that, but nothing of real value. I’ve got some change that won’t buy a thing out here. I’ve got a deck of cards though,” as he removed them from his backpack that were now slimy from the fish.
“And get a load of this,” he added as he removed the Polaroid camera from the pack.
Neji reached out to take it and said, “I’ve seen these before, mate. Didn’t know they made them any more.”
Donovan shook his head. “I don’t think they do. I found it before I left home and was just having some fun with it. Look at what I’ve got,” he reached in and pulled out a photograph of the underside of Miss Lucia’s skirt. There was a slight angle that showed her red and pink striped underwear with the slight curve of her behind.
“You’re such a perv, mate,” insinuated Neji. “Who is that?”
Donovan laughed. “She’s our housekeeper back home. She’s altogether lovely, don’t you think? She’s got a beautiful face to match. She doesn’t know I have that. I snatched it back before I left home.”
Neji laughed and pointed at the photograph, as he held it closer to the light of the fire. “Just when I thought I had you pegged as straight laced, you go and do that. Have you ever made out with a girl?”
Donovan didn’t want to sound too naïve, so he talked as though his experiences were bigger than they were. “I’ve had a girlfriend or two. How about you? Have you ever made it with a girl?”
Neji grinned and pointed at the fire, while shaking his head, as he stirred up the ashes some more. “No, mate. I ain’t ever had a Sheila. Not like that anyways. There’s one I’ve had my eye on, and maybe when I get back she will be payin’ some attention.”
Donovan laughed as he admitted, “Me either, really. Only in my dreams.”
They both chuckled. Then Donovan took the camera and snapped a picture of Neji. Then he posed with the spear, while Neji snapped a picture of him as well. When both had developed, they were surprised at how they looked and glad to have the keepsake.
“Do you want to play some cards?” asked Donovan.
“Maybe later,” replied Neji. “I’m kinda beat from all the walkin’ we’ve done today. I just want to lay back and rest my head for a while,” he leaned back on his elbows and took a deep sigh.
Donovan too, leaned back with his backpack beneath his head and glanced up at the one thing that linked them, the night sky.
“What do you have to say about the stars?” Donovan asked, but the enthusiasm was long gone with the days journey. “More Mimi spirits?”
“Somethin’ like that,” sighed Neji, tiredly. “What’s your opinion? I’m sure you’ve got one hiding somewhere.”
Donovan thought about it for a moment. “I don’t really get it, I suppose. I mean, why worship the stars instead of the one who created the stars?” he questioned, but not really caring if he got an answer.
“And who would that be?” questioned Neji curiously.
“God,” he said, surprised that Neji didn’t know that already.
“Uh huh The elders have a saying too. The land and sky is our cathedral. No building can contain the Mimis.”
“No building can contain God, either,” Donovan replied in earnest. “It’s just a gathering place where people meet.”
“Just like here,” Neji replied.
“I suppose so,” answered Donovan. “You’ve got a point there.”
“Didn’t think you were religious,” said Neji flatly.
“Don’t really think that I am. I was just thinking about something I had heard a long time ago. It’s funny how words pick their moment and just spring up when you least expect it,” he laughed.
“No harm done,” replied Neji. “You can say what’s on your mind if you want.”
There was silence between them for a while. Then Neji got up and removed something from behind a boulder that was intended to be a surprise. He had found it there and was planning to keep it as part of his initiation, and he shook the dirt loose from the holes of the long hollow tube.
“It’s a didjeridoo,” he said as he began to breathe into it, producing a low mournful sound.
“Yeah,” Donovan shrugged, “I’ve seen one of those before, but I’ve never heard one played. Is it hard?”
Neji shook his head as he began to play it. The mood struck Donovan as he got up and hopped around on the good foot, while trying to stay in rhythm. The sound was shrouded with breath that produced long and short bursts that resembled a base sound that reminded him of an elephant. Then Neji began to move around as well, while they danced around the campfire, slowly and rhythmically as he drug the edge of the hollow tube along the ground.
“Perhaps I can find something that sounds like a drum,” clapped Donovan as shook his fist forward and moved along the perimeter of the ring of fire.
Neji stopped playing long enough to grab a couple of sticks and demonstrated to Donovan. “Like this..,” he double-clicked them together and made a knocking sound.
So Donovan took them and began to tap the rhythm as they swaggered around like wounded animals, as Neji breathed the mournful sound, they both appeared to be heavy laden with sorrows that felt worthy of expression and sounding out.
Eventually, the air was joined b
y other mournful sounds, and not too distant howling.
Donovan stopped and wondered, “Dingoes?”
“Yeah, mate,” replied Neji. “We’d better put the fire out and get some shut eye, before they come any closer.”
So Neji tossed some of the sand onto the smoldering flames, and everything went black as they took their belongings into the cavern. Soon the howling had faded away and they were resting with their backs against the cool wall.
“Do you ever get scared out here all alone?” questioned Donovan. There was some obvious nervousness in his voice.
“Nah,” waved Neji, as the white ocher on his hands glowed in the moonlight. “I’m as much a part of the bush as everything in it,” he boasted. “I’m just used to it, I suppose. I might be afraid otherwise.”
There was a long pause of intermittent quiet, as Donovan took some deep breaths and tried to relax.
“But I have one for you, mate,” asked Neji. “If your God is so big, then why do you fear?”
Donovan had never really thought about it that way before, but the more he did, the more he began to realize that he shouldn’t be so afraid of the unknown. If there were angels to protect him, they must have sent one in the form of Neji. So he replied, “You’re right. I have nothing to fear,” and he sank a little further into the rock and tried to go to sleep.
Then a low growling came from beside him and he jumped, but Neji only laughed.
Donovan scoffed, “Cut it out already,” and turned in the opposite direction. The truth being, that neither had any certainty for what the night held. And as the sounds of the forest grew louder against the cold wavy floor, he would have given anything to have felt the warmth and security of his own bed again.
Chapter Fifteen
It was 10:30 am. The house maid clanked down the hallway with the second tray of hot cross buns and coffee. The first had been denied and left outside the bedroom door, but it was Madams wish that she try for brunch.
Placing the tray on the teakwood table beside the door, she started to knock again and hesitated. There was bickering followed by a short pause. Maybe she should come back in a little later when the air had cleared. She left the tray and walked away.
There was a fresh bouquet of lavender in a vase on the veranda. When Elizabeth heard the knock at the door earlier, she didn’t want to seem ungrateful so she left the tray of food and took the flowers. The wrought iron table beyond the French doors seemed a more fitting place for them. That way, she didn’t have to look at them and she didn’t have to smell them. Nothing would sweeten the foul air that had enveloped the guest quarters they had locked themselves into.
“Of all the nerve! How dare that idiot simply leave word that he’s going back up in the plane! Does he think I’m supposed to stand around be patient until something turns up? Although, why should he care? It’s not his child’s life at stake!” Allister pounded his hand with his fist as though looking for something more tangible to take his wrath out on.
Elizabeth, still in her bathrobe, searched high and low for her slippers. “Won’t you stop pacing the floor already? I’m losing my mind over it! It’s not my place to even try to justify your brothers emotional state when you can’t even control your own. Maybe he didn’t want you in the cockpit for a reason. Did you ever think of that?!”
“Well..,” Allister’s fist met a pillow and he ripped into it, dusting everything in white down. “Believe me, I can control my emotions! It’s coming to grips with the unknown that I find impossible! This whole ordeal is maddening!”
Elizabeth swung open the glass doors and took a deep breath.
“Don’t I have a right to be angry?!” he yelled, “or should I have to suffer that, too?”
“Ooh..,” Elizabeth fumed, turning back to him while waving one of the beige silk slippers. “I could tell you a thing or two about suffering. How do you think it’s been for me all of these years having to wear a pretty face while someone else harbors the love of my children?”
She grabbed her small box of jewelry off the low-boy and threw it on the floor. Rubies, diamonds, her wedding ring, all scattered onto the tile breezeway, mingling in with the feathers.
“Are these the things that hold the most value? Tell me if you can! Because they’ve been a poor substitute!” she hastened.
“Whatever do you mean?” Allister was appalled as he stomped past the jewels and onto the veranda.
She pursued him. “When I was growing up we didn’t have much of anything, but Mother’s love. And oddly so, it seemed to be enough,” she walked past him and looked over the edge onto the sprawling grounds. Viola and Marcy were playing on some swings.
“I remember chasing through the dales in search of poppies and marveling at the huge stone palace on the hill,” she said reflectively, but yet grudgingly beneath her breath. “Mother told me that I would live in a house like that one day.., worthy of a kings ransom and I believed her. So for years that became my obsession. I never knew it then, but the reason I believed in myself was because she believed in me. And I can’t remember a time when she expected me to walk in her footsteps She gave the best of what she knew, and to this day, it’s what I hold most dear. Afternoons like those, and the days my children were born.”
She turned to face the man whose heart she believed had grown too callused to feel and added poignantly, “You know Allister, I’ve never told you this before, but I resented you the day you made me choose between being a mother and being your wife.”
Attempting to somehow salvage the moment, but still lost in confusion, he caressed her satin shoulders and questioned, “Whatever do you mean, love? I’ve never given you an ultimatum about anything. I thought you wanted to be my partner. The staff may very well care for the children, but they know how much we love them,” he tried reasoning it out.
“Know how much we love them? Look around, why don’t you? Their most precious years are a blur..,” her gaze fixed on her daughter. “Our children look up to us like we’re some kind of disapproving idols, but not anything they’d like to be. I can see it in them. They don’t really know us the way they should. Love has to be experienced, not just observed from afar. Tell me Allister, what do you remember most about your childhood?” she breathed accusingly.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” he snapped back, “I don’t seem to recall.” His hand went stiff and he headed for the bedroom with his arms flailing angrily.
“All of this is your way of blaming me for Donovan’s disappearance.., like I’ve been an absent father. Is that it?” his voice began to crack as he sat down on the bed.
“Do you not think that I feel guilty enough?... Oh, Liz It probably is my fault, but I promise you this. I’ll find my son.., and if he’s still alive..,” practically choking on the words, “I’ll see to it that his childhood is one worth remembering.”
However, there were no choice words to give him. Elizabeth sat down by the wrought iron table and watched the girls running barefoot in the thick sod grass. They looked so innocent and untouched.., Viola’s skin as fair as lambs wool compared to Marcy’s golden bronze. She wondered if they were really enjoying the warm summer sun, or were the smiles simply a cordial façade?
It was the most naked she had ever felt, as though stripped of everything that mattered. And for the first time in a long time she sat and wept.., completely unadorned.
The clapping sound of the propellers whirred steadily as Yancey altered the degree of the rotor, preparing to send the helicopter into a slow lift off. Head gear in tact and the old cockney secured beside him, he gave a thumbs up to the uniformed man on the airstrip.
Soon the small terminal became a square stepping stone in the symmetry of shapes that lined the vastly changing land below. Where they were going, the small airplane wouldn’t do. They needed to be able to land anywhere in a moments notice, because they finally had something to go on.
They received the news when they
had reached the airport. The authorities had information about a youth fitting Donovan’s description.
When some concerned elderly tourists asked a ranger about a boys safe return from the falls at Jim Jim, he made the call. And his hunch had proved right. A missing persons report was filed directly.
An Aboriginal tracker from the Arnhem region was in the back seat, experienced in first aid and ready to do his part, whatever that might be, if not only for an additional pair of eyes. Scoping out every angle of what was in the open was easy, but trying to see through the thick mass of rainforest foliage was near impossible. Having hiked the trails of Kakadu many times, he knew how easily one could disappear beneath a tree branch, rock, or even the shadow of an embankment.
“Slim to none, mate,” the tracker’s voice muddled against he vibrations of the craft.
“Yeah, well.., I’m payin’ you to be optimistic,” Yancey corrected him.
Then he quietly commanded, “Hang tough, little Winthrop,” as his thoughts shifted back to the controls. Still the uncertainty was mounting.
Since it had been two days already, he wondered how the stifled upbringing of a young Winthrop could withstand the harsh realities of the outback. As an Aussie for the past fifteen years, he knew all about the trunks of Boabab trees that contained small pockets of water for an emergency supply, along with the huge edible flowers and nuts that grew to be the size of emu eggs. With a little bit of knowledge and the proper equipment, anyone would have a fighting chance against the elements, but the last time he had actually seen Donovan was five years ago. Somehow, he couldn’t shake the image of an overindulged white haired child falling prey to an unspoiled land.