Chapter 23

“I have a surprise for you,” was Sam’s greeting. “Come inside.”

Sitting in Boobook’s ‘parlor’ was a young woman. She was wearing soiled overalls, a tee-shirt and trainers. “This is Lily. Lily, this is Sam.”

Sam nodded. “Lily has made her way here from Broome. She ran away from a home and got rides from truckers by giving them oral sex. She told me she is still a virgin.” Lily had still not raised her head.

“I see. Look at me, Lily.”

She raised her face and Sam immediately knew why Bunjil had commanded him to come here. Lily was of Japanese extraction.

“Was your mother a pearler?”

“No. Gran’ma.”

“Your mum?”

“Hooker.”

“Your father?”

Lily shrugged.

[The frontier settlements around Broome had produced numerous children of mixed race and scant means, some born to imported divers, some to Aboriginal women press-ganged onto the boats for their diving prowess, used for sex, all later discarded when too pregnant to keep diving.]

“So, you’re half Japanese.” Lily nodded. “Look at me. My gran was Japanese. My mum is half Japanese. So I’m a quarter. Can you talk more than a word or two at a time?”

“‘Course. I’m no dummy.”

“Why’d you come here?”

“Dunno. A voice in my head tol’ me to find an owl here.” Boobook started, but Sam waved him down.

“Really. Did the voice mention other birds?”

“Yeh. Tol’ me eagle follows raven. Crazy. Don’ mean nuttin’.”

“I think it means something, Lily. Do you know any Abo language?”

“No. Sisters didn’t allow nothin’ but English.”

“Ah. I am called ‘Bunjil.’ That means wedge-tailed eagle.” She stared at him. “My wife is ‘Wodang.’ That means raven. I think you were sent to us. How old are you?”

“I was 17 ten days ago. They wuz arrangin’ me a job as a skivvy on a station. So I done a runner.”

“Do you have any papers?”

“Nope.”

“Any kit?”

“Nope.”

“OK. I’m tired and am going to lie down. I’m giving ‘owl’ two bricks ($40). You wash up and go with a granny and buy yourself some clean clothes including sox and underwear. OK?”

“Yes.”

“Boobook?”

“I will turn Lily over to a woman from Waringarri. She will take her to Bushcamp Store.”

As he dozed, Sam dreamt of a white snake with a woman’s head. Then of a creator with reddish skin, an emu’s legs and many wives and many children. Did ‘he’ suffer from sunburn? Why emu’s legs? Could he dream and think of the dream at the same time? He thought of Yeats’ poem, ending:

O chestnut tree, great rooted blossomer, Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance? [‘Among school children’]

Was this the Buddhist theory of essence and change? He thought about Emerson’s ‘Red Slayer’. No, that wasn’t the title. That was the beginning.

If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. [‘Brahma’]

Yes. That was it! “Shadow and sunlight are the same.” The dancer is the dance; light means shadow. The Dreamtime is the then and the now. What was it in Wagner? Oh, yes: the is, the was and the will be. Three Norns. Three Moirai. The spinner, the measurer, the shearer.

Sam woke up. Things were no clearer. He washed his face. He could hear Owl and Lily outside. He went to the door. Lily was seated at boobook’s feet. She was wearing a new, white tee shirt.

“Lily.” She looked up. “You look much better.” She bowed her head. “Did your mother tell you stories?”

“No. I don’t really ‘member her.”

“She didn’t talk of Benzaiten?”

“No.”

“I will need to think more. Have you eaten?”

“We had enough,” said Boobook.

“May I call carpet python?”

“Of course.”