University - Cover

University

Copyright© 2011 by Peter H. Salus

Chapter 57

The drive home from Canberra was pleasant: as we'd left Al with his parents, we were alone for a change. We stayed home all day Boxing Day; reading, watching the telly, enjoying being with each other. There were only a few phone calls – nothing disruptive.

On the 27th I called dad and asked whether he'd like a few more boxes sorted: there were about 10 more. He said 'yes, ' but pointed out it would be Monday, Thursday and Friday because of the weekend and New Year's. On Saturday morning, mum called and asked whether Sarah was with us. I said we'd neither seen nor heard from her since Tuesday, when we left after Christmas dinner.

After dinner, mum called Rachel and asked about Henry. Rachel gave her his mobile number. We talked about it, but had too little information to even do much speculating. I phoned my parents on Sunday and learned that Henry had taken Sarah off for a jaunt on his motorcycle about noon on Boxing Day. "Again!" was the extent of my commentary; but when I spoke to Rachel, I expressed unhappiness with my sister's behavior.

"She wants to do edgy, dangerous things. Running away with a circus performer; now a Hawaiian on a motorcycle."

"As long as they don't get really hurt," I said.

"Oh, she won't," Rachel said. "Unless she really thinks Henry's serious."

"What?"

"Henry likes women. I've seen visitors at the Gallery eye-ing him. Several have taken him off for a drink."

"A drink?"

"He hasn't gossiped. I'm sure there was more involved. But Sarah is legal and so is he. But I don't think he's the marrying kind at this point. And whatever she says, she's not either. I'm not at all sure but that she'd run away if Henry were serious."

"Yeah," I said. "But we'll have to pick up the pieces."

"True. Where should we go for dinner?"

While we were out Sarah called on my cell. She'd gotten home and mum had told her that we'd been called. "It's why I don't want to live at home," she said.

"Don't. Enroll in a program of study and find a place to live," I responded.

"Thanks. I don't even know what I want to do."

"This is neither the time nor the method to advise you."

"I know. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I was going in to the Museum. Why don't you come in with dad?"

"Good idea. See you there."

"Not a lot of data," Rachel remarked.

"No. You want that last slice?"

"You take it."


I'd been wrong. There were only eight more boxes. I'd just gotten one onto the table and opened when my sister's voice said "So this is where you lurk!"

"Not quite lurking, but yes. This was a storeroom and I've been trying to empty it out. Henry helped for several days."

"So I heard."

I opened the box, labelled "No. Territory; SW of the Alice; 1954," and took out a paper-wrapped bundle.

"Aren't you going to quiz me?" Sarah asked.

"No. If you want to, you'll tell me. If you don't want to, you won't. Or you might decide to talk to Rachel. But I'm not going to try to pump you, like in a bad mystery."

"That's a relief!"

I unwrapped the parcel. There had been several necklaces, but the thongs had become brittle and several were basically leather-dust. I put it at the end of the table and picked up the next package. It was an etched piece of red sandstone. I held it up. "Looks like an emu. Someone'll know whether it's old or relatively recent."

"Is that what you've been doing?"

"Mostly. No one knows what's in these boxes. One was full of bark paintings. The tech blokes at the Gallery were trying to flatten them out. There was a lovely turtle. And a bag of alchuringa stones. But most of it has been quite ordinary. Sixty or 70 years ago, people in the field just collected stuff. I think the Museum's lucky to have places and dates."

"I guess so. So these were archaeologists and anthropologists?"

"I doubt it. Surveyors. Cartographers. Demographers. Possibly fellows maintaining the rabbit fence. This is a big island; there are still places to explore." There was a bundle about 70 cm. long. I unrolled it. "Ceremonial spears. Probably a tribal gift to the collector. Might be worth something as gifts in the shop." I wrote on the side of the carton and replaced the three packets. Then I moved it to an otherwise-empty shelf and put the next one on the table.

"Wow!" I said.

"What is it?"

"Look what it says."

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