Chapter 8

Sam and Tessa were in Iga Warta. Sam was ‘helping’ with carpentry while Tessa’s mum and the aunties fussed about aiding Tessa’s ‘recovery’ from her miscarriage. It was nearly two months since their race to the hospital in Kunnunurra. Sam was more depressed than his spouse.

“It’s not abnormal,” Tessa told him repeatedly. “I’m young. I feel fine. We’ll resume trying. Who knows? With all these weird things going on, perhaps our birds just didn’t see it as appropriate or auspicious.”

“Perhaps. Do you feel up to a field trip?”

“Where?”

“Towards the pipeline?”

“Sure. Maybe I can get to the lake this time.” [Lake Frome is a large, shallow, unvegetated, endorheic lake, 100 kilometres long and 40 kilometres wide, lying mostly below sea level. It only rarely fills with brackish water flowing down usually dry creeks in the Northern Flinders Ranges from the west, or exceptional flows down the Strzelecki Creek from the north.]

“There might even be water in it.”

“I doubt it. There may have been rain on Uluru, but not down here.”

“Let’s make it an excursion, not an expedition, OK?”

“Meaning?”

“Not all the way to Moomba or Innamincka.”

“Fine. We’ll even take water and some tucker.”

Sam’s phone rang. “It’s my dad ... Hi. What’s up? ... Seriously? ... All of them? ... You did? ... Him too? ... I see ... No, I’ve been concerned with Tessa ... She’s fine, I’m just anxious ... Let me talk to her. I’ll call you in the morning. OK. Say hello to mum for us.”

“That sounded important.”

“It was. Dad’s python has been sending dreams to him. And Henry’s uncle on Oahu has had dreams, too. The powers are unhappy about what we’re doing. Dad spoke to a senator and to a representative in Canberra. One mocked him, the other referred him to Malachi and to me.”

“That was so terse I’m not sure I understand.”

Sam elaborated about the dams, weirs and coalmine in Australia; the volcanoes in Iceland, the Caribbean and Hawaii; the flooding and locusts in Africa; the history of the North West coast of the US. “Hammond quoted a lengthy passage from Malachi to dad. That’s why he called me.”

“I don’t know the Old Testament that well, even though I went to a religious school.”

“Nor do I. But we can look it up. Is there a Bible around?”

“Mum’s got one. We can take it on our excursion.”

It was a copy of the “New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition.”

“That’s a mouthful.” They agreed.

They drove towards the dead lake. Sam parked on Pipeline Road and they walked down the decline towards the salt flats. They sat on the pipeline and ate chocolate and drank water and held hands.

“Look!” Tessa said. There were two birds over the lake a small one and a large one. “I can’t tell what that wedge-tail is following.”

“I don’t think we need to tell. We know. What does eagle follow?”

“Right. ‘Eagle follows raven.’ Let’s look up Malachi,” Tessa said.

It was the last book of the Old Testament.

“Here it is. Dad said chapter 4 ... Oh, listen: ‘Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and terrible day of Jehovah come. And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers; lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.’ (4:5–6) That’s quite grim.”

“Yes. But I recognize a lot from the Gospels in it.” She took the volume from Sam. “Here, at the beginning of Luke: ‘With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous.’ (1:17)”

“He left out the curse.”

“I think the worst happenings are in Revelations. Anyway, let’s go on our picnic.”

They then strolled further towards the glittering salt.

“Look!” said Sam.

The wedge tail was plummeting nearly to the ground and then climbed on powerful wingstrokes.

“What does it mean?”

The raven flew in a generally north-westerly direction, the eagle swooping and rising.

“Do you feel up to travelling to Lake Argyle?”

“It’s no longer that. But, of course. Here to Marree, to Coober, to the Alice, to Tanami, to Sturt Creek, to Kununurra. That’s north-west. Nearly a week. Do you feel up to it?”

“I’ve been telling you. I wasn’t even spotting the next day. All the books say a first trimester miscarriage is nothing to fret over.”

“I worry.”

“Get over it. I’ll be pregnant again in six months or less. You’re not going to hang all over me, are you?”

“No. I’ll try not to.”

They walked a bit more, the birds were gone, after a while they drove back to Iga Warta.

Sam spent the evening looking at maps, working on routes.

“Would you like to visit Uluru?”

“Yes. But not necessarily this week.”

“We could make a side trip ... a diversion.”

“We could focus on getting to the Alice and then meander a bit.”

“Hmm. If we put in around seven hours, we can get to Coober Pedy in one day from here. Then it’s another seven to the Alice. But we can make the rest of the trek in briefer legs.”

“Have you called Josiah?”

“No. I wanted to wait till we’d made a decision.”

“Well, call now. Tell him we’ll see him in a week or ten days.”

Sam did so, then he and two of the ‘men’ checked the 4x4, tires, fluids, etc., and shook out and re-bundled the swags. Tessa, her mother and several ‘aunties’ inventoried clothes, set aside a case of bottled water and some candy bars. They spoke to everyone in the evening and got on their way by nine.

It was barely two hours to Marree, where they didn’t pause, but got onto the Oodnadatta Track. They paused to view the white salt expanse of Lake Eyre South and drink some water, then continued to Curdimurka, looking at the abandoned railway siding between the old Ghan Railway Line and the Track. But they stopped at William Creek. It was past 13:00, so they used the facilities, ate some lunch and topped up the fuel. They then jolted on to Coober Pedy, arriving there before 17:00.

Sam parked in front of the tourist information centre and said: “I’ll get us a room. One night or two?”

“Two. I’ve never been here.”

“Deal.” It was quite simple. Sam took a large underground room at the Desert Cave, taking advantage of one of the truly unique features of Coober. Tessa stood next to the 4x4 and stretched in the heat.

After showering, they took a brief walk up Hutchison Street to the Kangaroo Orphanage and then back to the Mediterranean Street Food Tavern, where they had char-grilled pork ribs and Greek salad before returning to the Cave. In the morning, they walked to the Umoona Opal Mine – they listened to the introduction, took the tour and (of course) went to the shop.

“Don’t you want an opal?” Tessa asked Sam.

“Perhaps.”

“An opal might help your vision. Opals have metaphysical power which allows people to traverse the dream realm, according to my mum. One might helping you in your dream quests toward understanding.”

“And how about you? Raven leads...”

“Perhaps a pendant ... like that oval one.” Tessa pointed at a blue/green triplet on a silver chain.

“That’s all?”

“Yes. But you should get a ring. Something larger, more powerful.” She pointed at a display. Sam could see the clerk observing them and nodded towards him.

“C’n I help you?”

“That pendant on the silver chain and this ring.”

“Yes?”

“What would they come to?”

“Just under five large.” Tessa gasped.

“Could I try the ring for size?”

“Right hand?”

“Wedding band’s on the left.”

“Fits quite well.”

“OK. Write them up.” Sam proffered his bank card.

“Can we afford it?”

“We can afford whatever we want. Both Gordy and my dad complain we don’t spend enough.”

“Would you like the pendant wrapped?”

“I think she’ll wear it. Right, dear? But I’ll need a receipt, lest someone is suspicious.”

“Of course.”

A few minutes later, having recovered his card and received a receipt, they went up to the surface.

“Where should we stop for lunch?” Tessa asked.

“Right there!” Sam pointed down Hutchison to the corner of Post Office Hill Road, where a sign read ‘Downunder Gallery and Cafe’. They had a tasty yet simple lunch, but Tessa kept on touching her pendant.

“You spent too much.”

“Nonsense! We’re not in debt. We’re not going into debt. How can I be spending too much?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know you worry. But my family has been very lucky. From Gordy’s father on – my greatgrandfather – they’ve passed on stuff. We’re not even using up all the interest. Gordy lives on his pensions – from the CSIRO, from the UWA, from the Museum. For all I know, the Forces give him something. And my parents got dosh from a mining engineer and from my other greatgranddad. Anyroad, don’t fret; everything’s under control. And we really ought to talk about where we go next and how fast and for how long.”