Chapter 5

It was intermission at Mozart's Magic Flute. Rachel was bubbling over the singing and the production in general. "I love the whole fantasy element! Those puppets are wonderful! Oh! Over there, the chap in a green shirt..."

"Yes?"

"He's in my myth course!"

"Well, you can talk to him tomorrow or the next day."

"Yes. It'll be a start. But, what did you think of the Queen of the Night?"

"You mean her voice or the costume?"

"The white costume, I thought she'd be in black or midnight blue."

"Well, she had to show against the dark and starry set. And if you see her as the moon, she should be white by the reflected light."

"What about the headdress?"

"Moon's crescent; just like the Phoenician Astarte."

"I thought Astarte was the Evening Star."

"In Babylonia and Egypt. You know the gods change as they appear in different locales, different cultures. Anyway, the opera's about the opposition of light and dark, of male and female, of good and evil."

"And noble and savage. Prince and birdcatcher."

"Right. There's the chime. That was a fast half-hour."

"'The sun's rays disperse the night!' There we are!" Rachel exclaimed as were leaving.

"I'm not sure I like what they did."

"Well, I loved it! What didn't you like?"

"Well, they cut it a bit. And the flying birds and the dragon and those bears are to make it a sort of fairy tale. But it wasn't intended that way. From what I read, it's a Masonic allegory."

"There's a dragon!"

"True."

"And directors always cut and alter. I was told in college that people cut an hour and more from Hamlet, for example. And you know very well how the Dreamtime stories vary from band to band."

"You're right. But I still it's an attempt at making things easy. A dumbing-down."

"Maybe. But bringing Mozart to the masses should be a good thing."

"Anyway, the voices were lovely and the orchestra was great. So it's the production, not the opera."

"Okay. Anyway, we're nearly home."

When Rachel got home the next afternoon she told me "His name's Mark and he comes from some small town north of Tamworth. He said his family's involved with horses called fish."

I burst out laughing. "Not fish, sweetheart, 'walers'."

"Whales?"

"No. Walers are horses bred in New South Wales. Tamworth is a center for breeding them. I'll bet his folks are in Manilla."

The name 'Waler' is derived from the term 'New South Waler', a horse bred in New South Wales, and Australia's first colony. It was coined as a term for colonial bred horses used both in Australia and as remounts for the British Army in India. Rajahs also bought Walers for military and recreational use such as polo. Walers, through the flourishing remount trade, were sold to India from the 1840's to the 1940's and were supplied to the Australian Army for the Boer War and World War I, where their feats of endurance and courage became legendary.

"That's right."

"That's about half-way to St. George."

"And?..."

"Where my uncle David lives."

"Do you want to visit?"

"No. Not at all. My aunt wouldn't know how to talk to you. She was awful to my friends when I was little. My cousins think their shit doesn't stink!"

"Patrick!"

"Sorry. But it's true. My Mum once really handed it to my aunt. I've heard about it from Dad's friend Jackie and my Gramps."

"I can't imagine Weena doing that."

"You've never seen her in a rage. See if you can get someone to dig out a tape of her on Seven. There she really raged on live telly."

See "Mining a Meteorite."

"Mark wants to get a doctorate in Greek and become a professor."

"There's little else you can do with that kind of degree."

"And? Is that worse than teaching about ants or worrying about the water table?"

"Not at all. Well, he doesn't sound like a good candidate for Allison."

"Matchmaking?"

"Not really. But we did talk about widening our circle. Remind me after dinner. I've a notion."