Chapter 4

We had a mediocre lunch in Byron Bay (location withheld) and drove towards the beach and the point, only to discover that there was a vehicle fee.

“Welcome to New South Wales,” I said. “Where we charge for nearly everything.”

“Let’s go back to the beach we were on. We can look for a place to stay at that ‘heads’ place to the north.”

“Yes, dear,” I said.

“And stop that!”

“Yes, dear. Brunswick Heads. By the way, It’ll take a lot longer to get back.”

“Oh?”

“We’ve got to drive north to the roundabout and come back on the other side. It’s over double the distance.”

“OK. Can we buy some chocolate, perhaps?”

“I’d say you were sweet enough; but OK.” We held hands up to the roundabout and back to the highway fuel stop. I handed Laura a five and she went into the kiosk, emerging with two bars.

“I’ll keep the change. I’m sure I’m still below the going rate.”

“I wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t pay. My notion is that’s the reason for dining and theatre and cinema – it’s all in lieu of buying sex overtly.”

“I was joking; now you’re serious!”

“Well, we’re back at Tyagarah!”

The lot was notably more crowded. I parked and took two of the remaining bottles of water. “You might want to locate your comb. You can untangle your locks after we swim.”

Laura did that and got out sandy and only slightly damp towels. We walked out to the beach and noticed that there was a rather large party just south of the pathway.

“Let’s head five minutes north,” she said. We did so. I turned to look back and realized that the party was about a dozen folks in a group orgy.

“We might be missing something,” I said.

She turned. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve not tried it, but it seems to me to be too impersonal, too much just treating people like pieces of meat.”

“Have you ever tried a – uh – multiple?”

“Once. In Toronto. Two girls I knew and two guys they knew. Since then I’ve been too wary both of STDs and of AIDS.”

“Understood. ‘A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted / With shifting change as is false women’s fashion’.”

“Shakespeare, but I don’t recall where.”

“Sonnet number twenty.”

“You have literary depths.”

“Just a good memory for what I’ve read.”

“I’m certain he didn’t have a beach orgy in mind!”

“No. Not even the concept of a nude beach, unless Nausicaa and her handmaidens were sans garb.”

“Homer says they went to the beach to wash clothes, but are playing games when Odysseus appears nude.”

“Book Six.”

“Very good. Paxton did a painting where they’re all nude, incidentally. Would you like to – uh – play games in the water?”

“Yes. But I’ve never heard of him.”

“American portraitist.”

We had no golden ball, but played in the water anyway. We then stretched out in the sun and dried ourselves while Laura tried to comb out her locks, and ended up prone together.

“Gordy?”

“Hmmm?”

“You understand this isn’t serious?”

“Well, I’d say serious but not permanent. The government will move me along by the new year.”

“Oh. I’ll be going back to Melbourne in about six weeks.”

“Good timing. Could we agree to a two-month relationship?”

I got the tinkly laugh again. “Friends with limited benefits?”

“Time limited, not benefit limited.”

“Deal.” She gave me a kiss, then moved down and began a soft, slow suction. I stiffened immediately. “Just stay still,” she mumbled. Somewhat later we switched and I pleasured her. Then we got up, dusted the dry sand from each other and got dressed. We were nearly back to the 4×4 when I said: “See, that’s why footwear’s important.”

“What?”

“That’s an Arbanitis, a Brisbane trapdoor spider. They’re not poisonous, but a bite can be painful. They live in embankments, and I’m sure an area like this, just above the high tide line is a popular neighborhood. But my point is really that Australia’s home to a very large number of unpleasant animals. Actually, unpleasant to us: spiders, ticks, scorpions, a large variety of insects, and lots of snakes, lizards, and things we brought from afar.”

“I hadn’t noticed it.”

“You wouldn’t, unless your foot went too near and it felt threatened. And then it would bite you. Just look before you step. Around here, I would have thought bulldogs would be more dangerous.”

“Bulldogs?”

“Bulldog ants. There are nearly 100 species around the Australian coastal areas. Their bites are quite painful and, if you’re allergic to the venom, fatal.”

“Fatal? An ant bite?”

“Oh, yes. Not often. It think there have been only half a dozen fatalities in the last sixty years. But nasty. And they’re big. Up to 40 mm long.” We loaded everything into the rear seat.

“OK,” I said. “Next stop Brunswick Heads.”

“You said there are Aborigines living near your family?”

“Not near. Right on our land. Some work for my dad. Men riding fences and herding, women to tend the kitchen garden and do laundry.”

“Amazing.”

“Not at all. My oldest friend’s an Abo. Jacky’s exactly my age and we played in the dust and stole eggs and caught goannas and crayfish together ... and fish, too, when we got older. And I got to listen to the stories of the Dreamtime and learn about bush tucker because I was Jacky’s ‘fren.’ We went to St. Patrick’s together. But not high school. That’s when our paths diverged.”

“Fascinating.”

“Well, we’re nearly at the river.”

“River?”

“Brunswick Heads is on the Brunswick River. It’s not really much of a river. Technically, it’s a wave-dominated barrier estuary, only 35 kilometres long. But there’s some swimming and they farm oysters in the pool.”