Chapter 1

We were married the last Saturday in November – 27 November 2004 -- and spent two days driving to Longreach, some of it on the Capricorn Highway, spending the night in a motel in Charleville. In Longreach, we went through the Stockman's Hall of Fame and drank at a pub and had dinner ... and made love. After breakfast, we got tucker for lunch, climbed back into the rent-a-Rover and headed for Mount Isa. We were hot and sticky and tired when we got to Mount Isa, but we found the Verona Hotel right away and had a happy time showering together. Then we got dressed and walked down to the Leichardt River, flowing north to Burketown.

"I love you," said Weena.

"Thy love is better than high birth to me, " I responded.

"Ooh. I love it when you quote Shakespeare!"

I kissed her. "And we're at the Verona! Let's find a place to eat."

"And drink?"

"Strong drink giveth the desire, but taketh away the ability, " I responded.

"After these weeks, I find it unlikely that you'll lose ability."

"You are a saucy wench!"

When we got back to the Verona, I hauled out my map and realized two things: it was a long, hot drive to Perth and I really didn't think I wanted to do it. But I didn't really want to go north to Darwin, either. And I didn't want to backtrack.

"Sweetheart?"

"Mmm?"

"What do you really want to do?" And I told Weena what I thought.

"Could we get to the Alice?"

"I think so. We're pushing the rainy season, but we'll be going south, away from the Timor Sea. We could get to the Barkly Homestead in one day, if we leave early. And from there to Wauchope and then to the Alice. Taking it a bit easier, we could stop in Tennant, then Wauchope, then Alice."

"Could we dump the rent-a-Rover in the Alice and fly to Perth?"

"Why not?"

"Let's do it. You ask the barman whether he thinks we can make the Homestead in one big drive."

The barman opined that it was under 500 k and that we could do it eight hours. One of the patrons said we'd perish trying to do that. Another responded that he'd perish if he went that far from a pub. I left them to their discussion and asked the woman at the desk whether I could phone the Homestead about a booking. She offered to do it for me, and I told her to take the best that was available. Then I went to report to Weena.

We were downstairs before seven and I checked our jerry cans for petrol and for coolant. I went to the Verona's kitchen and asked about cutting some brownie and meat for lunch, which they were happy to do. Then we had coffee and chops and fried bread, paid the bill, and started out. Just as we were getting on highway 66, I pulled into a station, filled the car's radiator with straight coolant, topped off the petrol tank and the tin, bought some bottled water, and we were on our way.

Folks used to joke about the road from Mt. Isa to Camooweal, built by the Yanks during the war, and called "Tojo's Highway." It was the worst road in Australia. But it was resurfaced a few years ago, and hasn't broken up (much) yet. So we just zipped along with only some jouncing. It was under two hours till we saw a warning sign that the caves were flooded, so there was no attraction to cause us to stop at all as we passed from Queensland into the Northern Territory. About an hour later, we did stop. I made a billie of tea and we had a snack. I was confident about the petrol, but I topped off the radiator. It was already 30 [86 F] and it might get a lot warmer. Evaporation can kill. December in the tropics!

It was about the same distance again to Barkly Homestead as what we'd covered in our first three hours. But as we got along the road began to undulate and I slowed.

"Great job of roadlaying!" Weena remarked.

"Must have been done by the serpent in Dreamtime," I responded.

"Oh?"

Soon after the beginning of the dreaming, after the rocks and the waters were in their places, but there were no people to move things about, the great serpent lay down in the grassland. The serpent was going to sleep and dream some more. But, as it still is with serpents, the skin was getting dry and began to itch. And so the serpent began to roll and to rub and to beat coil after coil against the grass. And after a time and a time, the skin split and the serpent was free of that itch and the old skin just blew away when the rain came. But the places where the great serpent rolled and rubbed kept their marks. And the road keeps those marks, too.

Weena looked at me. "Is that Warlbiri?"

"No, it's Gordy."

"What?"

"I just made it up. I've been hearing those stories for nearly 30 years. Didn't it sound like a real one?"

"You nasty bastard!"

"Nonsense, you saw my parents only a few days ago."

"But you know, it's a true story. You may think you made it up, but it was brought to you on the wind as we drove. Baiame brought it, as he walked on the earth he made, among the plants and animals, and created man and woman to rule over them. He fashioned them from the dust of the ridges. Look around. There's no other man nor woman, no 'roos, no cattle. We are the man and the woman."

"Yes." I got serious. "The land does that to us. We're not natives, but we're part of it, you and I. Wait till we get to the Alice. We'll take a day and go to Uluru. We'll see where Tatji's remains are."

Weena took my hand and squeezed it.

Charlie

I never could sleep while riding in an airplane. I guess it was the engines that kept me awake. So, I spent most of my time looking out the window, hoping to find some sign of civilization — so far, no luck. Everything had gone blank right after the plane took off from Perth, headed north and east. Brown-redbrown-light brown. We'd been in the air now for a couple of hours and you would have thought that there would have been some kind of house or a farm visible. Nope, none that I'd seen.