Chapter 4

“Could we go on an excursion?” asked Tessa a few days later.

“In general, yes; in particular, of course.”

“Very funny.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“It’s a site called the Stonewoman Aboriginal area. I think it’s about an hour or so from here. There’s a story about it.”

“OK.”

“There was once a young girl who decided to choose her own husband, and not let the older people choose one for her, as was the custom of those days. She married a person who was not of her right group and did not belong to her people. The young girl ran away with her husband, but the girl stopped to have a drink of water. The Elders had sent people after her to kill her, because she had broken the law, and when they found her bending over drinking the water, they hit her on the back of the head with a nulla nulla, causing her neck to break. She is still there today with her head in the water, and she is a warning to all young girls not to break the laws of marriage.”

“So, a story about why you shouldn’t break the rules.”

“Yes. Also about marriage and moiety lines and paying attention to one’s elders.”

“Well, we obtained your grandfather’s approval, my grandfather’s approval and Waa and Bunjil are in opposed moieties. So, we’re safe.”

“When can we go?”

“Nearly anytime. We’re past the August bank holiday, so there’s nothing till Labour Day in October. We could go on Friday if you want. Where’s the NSW map?”

“The map’s in the car, I’ll get it.”

“It’s not far from Inverell!” Sam exclaimed a few minutes later.

“Inverell?”

“Site of the Myall Creek massacre in 1838. You ought to read about it. I’m ashamed of what the Europeans did. There’s now a memorial there. The inscription begins: ‘In memory of the Wirrayaraay people who were murdered on the slopes of this ridge in an unprovoked but premeditated act in the late afternoon of 10 June 1838.’ Really horrible.”

A few days later they drove to Tingha, parked and walked to the Stonewoman.

“Interesting,” Sam said.

“Oh?”

“I can see the woman, but I feel nothing. Not like when we were in the west nor elsewhere here in New South.”

“And?”

“My guess is that the story is an ‘explain’ of the geologic feature. It’s aboriginal, but it’s not what we’d think of as Dreamtime.”

“Mightn’t the – uh – magic have been overwritten? By whitefella tourists or by the immensity of the massacre you talked about.”

“I guess so. But I feel nothing here. Let’s drive back via Guyra. We can lunch at the Woolly Lamb.”

“OK.”

They got back to Bellevue Road a bit after 15:00.

*

Several days later Sam said that he was “still unhappy” about the classes.

“So, drop them. Drop out. Who ever said you needed a degree? What do you want to do? It’s your life!”

“That’s quite strong.”

“I’m irritated! I’m adamant! We’re married. But that can’t force you to do anything. I’d like to get a degree. But you don’t have to. I’m really interested in the sociological and anthropological things I’m learning. But you grouse whenever you emerge from Aussie history. So drop it. Talk to other folks. Talk to the people downtown and here. Both to native Australians and others.”

“Well...”

“Well, what?”

“I might like to write.”

“What sort of things?”

“I don’t know. Not Upfield mysteries. Nor White-ish novels. Something with an Aboriginal flavor. An Australian Kim or Jungle Book. Not like White’s Chariot, though it shows the ignorance and prejudice of the everyday people in reaction to the few.”

“So you’ve notions.”

“I guess so.”

“Do you know any authors? Have you spoken to anyone? Isn’t there a writing programme here?”

“No. No. I don’t know.”

“Let’s look online.”

“OK.”

“Just OK? Have you tried writing?”

“No.”

“Are you depressed? Can I help? Sex?”

“Sex is always good. But it doesn’t fix. I don’t like being at sea. Not knowing what to do. And asking what I want doesn’t help. Let’s look on line. Actually, you look. I’m going to wash my face. Maybe cold water’ll help.”

“Do you know the story of raven or crow stealing the light?”

“Of course.”

“I am trying to bring that light to you. Kaa leads Bunjil. I bring you the inner light.” Sam sat down and put his head in Tessa’s lap. She stroked his head. “You are too tense. You are trying too hard. Close your eyes and rest. Relax.” Sam fell asleep.