Chapter 40

Edwards came through. The flight to Tibooburra was comfortable. We had three mining executives for company – actually two executives in suits and a bloke with a sun-browned face wearing a safari jacket and a slouch hat.

"Headin' fer Isa?" he asked.

"No. Wedding in Tibooburra on Wednesday."

"Warm place. Might be 40. Still two pubs?"

"I think so."

"You getting' hitched?"

"No. Done that already. I'm best man and she's matron of honor."

"Waal. My best wishes. Hold on." He rummaged in his leather carry-on. "Here. Give this to the couple from an old prospector." He handed me a small rock – about 6 cm. long. "It's real. Them streaks are gold."

"Thank you. Thank you very much." I put out my hand and shook his. "I'm Patrick Hollister. My wife's Rachel [she smiled]. You want to be careful on this trip. Especially near that zinc find."

He stared at me.

"You nungungi?"

"Yes."

"Thanks. I'll be careful. Good meetin' you. Ma'am." He moved a row further back.

"What was all that, Alf?" I overheard.

"Jes' chattin' wi' them young folks."

"What did you give the boy?"

"One of my samples."

Rachel looked at me, but I shook my head.

The flight took just under three hours. I reread White's The Tree of Man, because it's full of Australian folklore and cultural myth, and is White's attempt to infuse the way of life in the bush with some sense of the cultural traditions and ideologies that Western civilization has bequeathed to Australian society in general. Rachel was reading Flood's Archaeology of the Dreamtime. Just prior to landing the co-pilot came back and told us that the hotel was sending a ute to fetch us. Rachel gave him a smile and a thank you.

It wasn't over 40 [104F], but it was hot. And bright. Our bags were unloaded and we walked towards the nearby building. There was a bloke and a car (not a ute!).

"Hollisters?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'll get the boot open."

Baggage stowed, we got in and ten minutes later we were at the hotel. Actually we were in front of one of several cabins.

"We've put most of the weddin' party in the cabins," the driver said. "Couple more'll be comin' today."

"Thanks. Do we register or sign in or what?" I asked.

"Jus' come in any time. Have a cold 'un. Whoever's there'll sign you in and run your plastic."

"Great. Thanks."

It was slightly cooler inside. Windows provided a slight breeze.

"Is there anything you want to do here?" Rachel asked.

"Two things: there's a local museum and Cameron's hand-carved cornerpost is somewhere in an office. Gerry's dad will know about that."

The Tibooburra Local Aboriginal Land Council Keeping Place is a unique museum displaying traditional indigenous artefacts and selected photographic material from the Tibooburra district.

The collection consists of wood, stone and fauna materials from the Wadigali, Wongkumara and Malyangapa tribes.

As its name describes, the museum is a 'Keeping Place' for the remains of the tools and artefacts found in the Tibooburra Corner Country district.

"Well, let's wash our faces and go up to the pub," said Rachel.

"What was that with the bloke on the plane?" she asked as we emerged into the heat.

"He asked about us and where we were going. But I suddenly knew that he was journeying into danger, and told him. He gave me a piece of crystal with gold in it for the bridal couple."

"'Knew'?"

"It gets stronger away from the city. Maybe the great serpent is more powerful away from the steel and concrete. I'm invigorated here, despite the dry and the heat."

She laughed. "I'll look at your great serpent later and let you know."

We were laughing as we entered the hotel building. I signed the Registration Book and we looked about, Rachel's eye being caught by the paintings. But I spotted Gordy in the pub, and recognized the couple he was with as his parents.

"Come meet the important folks," I said to Rachel. Our movement caught Gordy's eye, and he gestured to his folks. I jumped in before he could say anything.

"Rachel, these are two very important people: Jacky and Alice. I've known them all my life. Jacky, Alice, my wife Rachel." Alice didn't say a word, just turned and gave Rachel a big hug. Jacky was a bit more stoic.

"Patrick was at our wedding; I was a childhood friend of Gordy – your father-in-law, not this rascal."

"Is Weena here?" I asked.

"Of course. Primping, I'm certain," Gordy said.

"Will the ceremony be here?" Rachel asked Alice.

"No. There's a church, and a local domine will officiate. He'll fly in tomorrow and out after the ceremony."

The Church of the Corner was erected in 1963 by the Australian Inland Mission now succeeded by the Uniting Church Frontier services. It is open for use by visiting clergy by arrangement. It is a church for all the people of the area.

I took Jacky's hand. "Don't fret. The yeaning will go smoothly."

"Hunh?"

"You're worried about the ewes. They'll be fine. And so will the new lambs."

"Still doin' that, eh?"

"Only when I feel it. You're here as Gordy's dad; don't fret about the stock."

"What's Patrick doing?" Alice asked.

"He's being nungungi."

"I thought that was a joke." She looked at me, smiling. "Do you have other powers?

"No. Rachel's been trying to spin gold from straw, but it just doesn't work." Everyone laughed.

Just then Weena arrived. She was extremely pretty and even paler than her mother. Her grandfather's genes must have prevailed. She was wearing jeans and a tee shirt and was taller than Rachel.

"Laughing at me?" she asked.

"Not at all," I said. "You must be Weena; I'm Patrick and this is Rachel."

"Hey. I was hoping to meet your mum and dad, but I guess not."

"I can hear it already," Rachel said. "Gordy and Weena, I'd like you to meet Weena and Gordy. And the other way round, too."

"Let's sit down and have a drink," Jacky said. Alice was still looking at me strangely.

I sat between Alice and Weena. "What's the problem?" I asked.

"I don't understand about your being nungungi," she said.

"Nor do I. Do you understand your being here?"

"What?"

"You're here because you got married and had two children and one of them is getting married the day after tomorrow. I'm nungungi because at your wedding the grey kangaroo named me. There you are."

"That doesn't mean anything," Weena said.

"In some ways, that's true. In others, it's an exact description."

"All my teachers have said that abo stuff is just tradition, like fireworks on Australia Day."

"Celebrating Easter and Christmas is just tradition, too. But many people go to churches and others at other times to mosques and synagogues and pray. And the ceremony's in a church."

"It has to be!"

"No. Rachel and I were married by a clerk in an office in Perth. Someone, probably more than one, opted for the church. And though I don't recall them, I was at your parents weddings – both of them: tribal and religious. And they were both on my granddad's station."

"Too true," Jacky added. "The Kangaroo asked for Gordy to tell Weena to bring Patrick to the ceremony. And, in front of the band, he called her 'Weena-nungungi' and Pat, 'nungungi-to-be'. And so he is."

"What can you tell me?" Weena asked.

"I don't know. It isn't a water tap. I don't really control it, it controls me."

"Have you a totem?"

"Yes. I am a carpet python. My skin is in Perth. We did not move it to Sydney."

"Don't you need it?"

"I don't think so. The Great Serpent didn't tell me that I needed it."

"The Great Serpent? You're weird!"

"Perhaps. You are quite pragmatic."

Weena glared at me a bit.

"She's the family cynic," Alice said.

"I can see that. But she should be more open to things that are unfamiliar. That the earth was a sphere revolving around the sun was lost between the ancient Greeks and the sixteenth century, but it was so anyway. Bruno was burned at the stake in 1600; Galileo was sentenced by the Inquisition in 1633. The Church was wrong in both cases. It's important to recognize that we don't know everything."

"Liven up," interjected Rachel. "We're here for a wedding celebration!"

"You're right? Drinks anyone?"

"I think tea or coffee," Alice said.

"What powers do you have?" Weena asked. She sat next to Rachel.

"None."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a second-year at Sydney and I work at the Art Gallery."

"An art gallery?"

"No. The Art Gallery. The Art Gallery of New South Wales. I do independent study with the curator. She's had me work in several different departments. It's wonderful! I get to spend time three days a week among works of art!"

"Haven't you ever been to the Queensland Gallery on Melbourne Street in Brisbane?" I interjected.

"Where?"

"I've been there," said Alice. "I thought you'd been on a class excursion."

"Oh, yeah. Big modern building with paintings." Weena turned back to Rachel, "So you go about and look at paintings?"

Rachel sighed. "No it's far more than that. I've been learning how each work fits into a pattern. It has a place in the work of its artist. And a place in the genre – painting or drawing or wood carving or sculpture. And a place in the wider world of art. Do you know who Fred Williams was?"

Weena shook her head.

"Williams was from Melbourne, but spent time studying in England. He died about 30 years ago. When he returned from England, he saw the potential of the Australian bush in its inherent plasticity. He wanted to find a 'language' with which to express the Australian landscape, as it was very un-European. This was grounded in setting up a pictorial equivalent to the overwhelmingly vast, primarily flat landscape like around us here, where the traditional European relationship of foreground to background breaks down, and makes necessary a complete re-imagining of space. In this, Williams looked to the approach taken by our Aboriginal artists. It makes his work unmistakable and highly original. But you've got to see it in the light of European landscape painting, of Williams' own work, of the open, flat, barrenness of much of Australia, and of the traditional representations. It's not just looking, you have to learn how to look."

Everyone was looking at Rachel. "Wow," said Alice.

"I'm sorry. I get carried away."

"It's your passion," I said. "Remember, I got carried away explaining the Williams at Winnie's."

"Those two awful women!"

I laughed. "They weren't awful, just idle and predatory."

"Anyone for a walk, it should be beginning to cool off?" asked Gordy.

"I'm going to lie down before dinner," said Alice. "Coming Jacky?"

"'Course. Let the youngsters go out."

The four of us went outside. It was still fairly warm, about 30, but about half the road was in some sort of shadow.

"What will you do after you get your degree?" Weena asked.

"I'll most likely try for a real post at the Gallery but, depending on other things, we'll start a family in a few years." Rachel paused.

"And you, Patrick?"

"Oh, I thought everyone knew. I'll get my degree, article for a year, take the exam and be a lawyer trying to win back what the original Australians have lost."

"It's in their family, you know," Gordy added. "The band's territory and our station came from Pat's grandfather. His dad protected ours in school. His ma saved Jimmy's life. That band, our band, our family owe everything to the Hollisters."

"Well..." I began.

"No!" Gordy said. "I'm serious. You are the best. The girls have both told me about you. You know," he turned to Weena, "It must have cost a lot of dosh for them to come here. They didn't pause ten seconds before saying 'yes.' Big Gordy's got a medal for service. Hollisters don't ask questions except what can they do."

"True," I said. "But my grandfather made good money from the station. Both my dad and his brother went to uni. Ecclesiastes tells us to 'cast bread upon the waters.' And Proverbs adds 'He who is kind to the poor, lends to the Lord, and he will reward him.' The Great Serpent is the same. We have what we have because we do what we can."

Gordy clapped me on the shoulder; Weena just stared; Rachel smiled.

I broke the silence. "So, what do you want as a wedding gift?"

"I'll wait till my boss gets here tomorrow."

"She's trained you well, already," Rachel remarked.

By lunchtime, several utes had arrived: Audie and Gerri and their parents; Jimmy and his wife; Sam, Jimmy's nungungi; after lunch, Allison and Mark appeared. It seemed that Allison had driven north to Manilla and Mark had driven from there. They'd spent last night at a motor inn in Cobar. I'd not seen Mark since our party six weeks ago. I was glad to see him.