The Audrey of the Outback Collection (20 page)

‘If you want water.’

A log slipped from Audrey’s fingers. She felt it falling and jumped back. It missed her feet, hit the floor and rolled to one side. The log didn’t mark the floor. Crushed ants’ nest and mud made a firm surface. The only time the floor cracked was if it dried out in the heat of summer.

Audrey stooped to pick up the log. ‘What if you were a bunyip, Price?’

‘I’m
not
a bunyip.’

‘But what if you were? Do you reckon you’d like wells as much as billabongs?’

‘Audrey, these questions are silly.’

‘Not if you’re a bunyip.’

‘I
told
you. I’m
not
a bunyip. I’m a man.’

‘You’re a
boy
. You’re too young to be a man.’

‘I’m a
young
man.’

Audrey couldn’t quite see how her brother could turn into a man—even a
young
man—in one night. Last December he’d gone to bed, eleven years old and a boy. Next morning, on his twelfth birthday, he started saying he was a man.

Audrey picked at a splinter that had speared her right thumb. ‘But do you think a bunyip, even if it wasn’t you, would like a well as much as a billabong?’

Price shook his head.

‘Have you ever seen a bunyip, Price?’

He gave a little snort.

‘Heard a bunyip growl?’

‘I’ve heard some strange things in the bush.’

‘Were they
bunyip
strange?’ asked Audrey.

‘Bunyips aren’t real.’

‘How do you know if you’re
not
one and you haven’t seen one?’

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He’d catch flies if he kept flapping his jaw like that.

‘You do know what bunyips look like, though,’ said Audrey.

‘I’ve told you before.’

‘Tell me
again
.’

‘They’re huge and hairy, with red eyes on the sides of their heads, and fangs. They like water. They bellow at night. And they eat kangaroos and people.’ Price lowered his voice. ‘Especially women and girls.’

‘I told you boys and billy goats were tough meat.’ Audrey looked at her brother sideways. ‘You know a lot about bunyips for someone who hasn’t seen one and doesn’t believe in them.’

Was that thing she’d seen last night a bunyip looking for water? It
had
been down near the well.

What if it was looking for something yummy to eat? Something wearing a nightgown and a cardigan. Audrey remembered the howling she’d heard. It had sounded like dingoes. But bunyips made noises too.

Audrey hadn’t seen red eyes though. And a hungry bunyip would have eaten her right up when she was out there alone.

No, it couldn’t have been a bunyip. Nor could it have been an angel. An angel would fly, and if Pearl and Esther came back to visit, they’d come inside the house.

But whatever it was, it was real. And Audrey knew she wouldn’t stop thinking about it until she solved the mystery.

Had something moved out there?

Six

Back in the kitchen, Audrey wiped the last saucepan and hung it on its hook over the kitchen fireplace.

Next time Dad went south to Beltana, he was picking up a proper stove from Mrs Paterson. That stove would be the sort you put wood inside, behind a metal door. With one of those, Mum could cook bread and scones in the house. Although Dad had done a pretty good job of the bread oven out the back. It was made from crushed ants’ nest and wire, and hardly crooked at all. Maybe his eyes had been better then.

Audrey glanced out of the window. A pleasant breeze drifted in. Most of last night’s clouds had floated away and the sky was a deep blue.

Suddenly Audrey stood still and narrowed her eyes. Had something moved out there?

If so, it wasn’t Stumpy. Today, he was playing out bush. He didn’t like chores. And he wasn’t that good at them either. Four legs weren’t much use if you had to dry dishes or clean lamp glass with salt. You needed hands.

Audrey stood at the window, staring out.

When their dog, Grease, was alive, he had barked if a stranger showed up. He’d barked
too
much, actually, and he used to dig holes all around the house. He died just before the family went to Beltana, and Audrey missed him. Dad probably missed him even more. Grease used to go with him when he went away.

There!
Audrey was certain now. A small black dot moved on the edge of the tree line.

She ran to the door, wrenched it open and dashed towards the clothes line. ‘Mum! Dad! Someone’s coming.’

‘Where?’ Mum spun round, towards the track that led to their house. ‘I can’t see anything.’

‘You will in a minute.’

Price leaned the axe handle against the wall and dusted his hands.

Douglas forgot the game he was playing in the dirt with two sticks and jumped to his feet. ‘I wannaseetoo.’

‘Audrey, this isn’t one of your make-believe stories, is it?’ asked Mum.

‘I don’t make-believe things.’

‘What about Stumpy?’ Price wiped his forehead with his sleeve. The cuff flapped open. Either the button had gone missing or he hadn’t bothered to do it up.

‘He doesn’t make up things neither.’

‘No. I mean
you
made up
Stumpy
.’

Audrey felt sorry for her older brother. He couldn’t see things since he’d grown taller and moved into his lean-to room at the side of the house. He was so busy growing that wishing and playing were being left behind.

‘Stumpy is
real
,’ she said in her firm-but-polite voice. The one she’d learnt from Mrs Paterson. ‘I see things that other people don’t.’

‘My oath, you do, Two-Bob.’ Dad dropped the stick onto the ground. The kangaroo skins hung straight on the line.

‘Wotisit? Wotisit?’ A dirt smear curved from Douglas’s nose across his left cheek. The knees of his trousers had round patches of dirt on them.

Dad smiled at Douglas. ‘Someone’s coming, all right.’

‘I saw him first,’ said Audrey. ‘Cos I used Dad’s wrinkles.’

‘You did what?’ Mum frowned and laughed at the same time.

‘Like this.’ Audrey squeezed up the skin around her eyes to form a tight squint. ‘Dad does this in the bush so he can see better. That’s how he got his wrinkles. Us Barlows have bush eyes, don’t we, Dad … I mean, Chip?’

‘Reckon so.’

Douglas ran to stand behind Mum’s skirt. He leaned to one side, so he could still see the track.

The figure on the track seemed to grow larger as he came closer. He was solidly built and wore a broad-brimmed hat. A swag was slung over his back. His steps were slow and plodding. He’d probably walked a long way. If you set out too fast, you didn’t get far because you felt tired before you reached the place you were going. ‘One foot after the other will get you there,’ Dad sometimes said when Audrey was rushing about, knocking into things.

Excitement gripped Audrey like a giant cramp. Even her fingers tingled. She danced up and down, then ran towards the visitor.

Seven

Up close, Audrey saw this was no ordinary swaggie.

He
was a
she
. But she looked as tough as boots. She wore thick trousers and a baggy grey shirt. Her eyebrows were unusually pale. Much paler than the brown hair that showed beneath her hat. The swaggie was broad as well as tall, and her hands were rough and tanned.

Audrey had a feeling she’d seen this face and solid shape before.

The swaggie tilted back her head and grinned at Audrey. Pink gums glistened in the sunlight. ‘What d’ya know?’

Those bare gums and booming voice could only belong to one person. ‘You’re Bloke!’

‘Blow me down. You know who I am?’

Audrey’s smile was so wide that she felt her ears move. ‘You gave me my other name, Two-Bob. You said I was as crazy as a two-bob watch.’

‘Right on the nose.’ Bloke chuckled and her whole body shook. She slapped Audrey on the back.

Audrey staggered. A pat like that could knock a person into next week.

‘You remember me calling you Two-Bob?’ Bloke’s pale eyebrows danced up and down.

‘Sort of. Dad told me about it too. He calls me Two-Bob a lot. I call
him
Reginald sometimes.’ Audrey fiddled with her plaits. ‘He doesn’t like that name too much.’

‘Sounds like a gent who sits straight and folds his hands a lot.’

Audrey nodded. ‘And a Reginald would always have clean fingernails. Dad doesn’t. His are brown, even after he washes them. And when he’s home, he baths every week. So I reckon his fingernails will be brown forever.’

She waved to her family, waiting by the clothes line.

Mum waved back.

‘I reckon I saw one of those two-bob watches in Beltana. Actually, it wasn’t a watch. It was a clock, which is bigger. It had dead Rome language numbers on it,’ Audrey told Bloke. ‘You came on a good day. Dad’s going to make one of his rabbit stews in the big pot. We like his stews. Except Dad lets them boil too long and the vegetables get all broken and mash up with each other and you can hardly tell which one you’re eating.’

Audrey skipped alongside Bloke’s plodding feet. ‘Dad’s giving Mum a rest because she’s got a baby in her tummy. I want a girl. But Dougie, my little brother, wants a horse. Dougie’s only three, so his brain’s not working all that good yet. When he felt the baby kicking in Mum’s tummy, he cried because he thought she’d eaten it.’

‘It’s all comin’ back to me now, why I called you Two-Bob.’

Audrey giggled.

‘You’ve gone and grown on me,’ said Bloke. ‘I remember you bein’ knee-high to a grasshopper.’

If she ever shouted, Bloke could blow kookaburras out of trees. Maybe when people had no teeth, there was nothing to dampen the sound of their voice.

‘I got trousers too, like you.’ Audrey plucked at her braces, then let them snap back. ‘I have to roll up the cuffs. They’re too long because they were my brother’s. But girls can wear trousers.’

‘Too right we can.’

‘We can’t grow beards though.’

Bloke guffawed. ‘Suits me just fine, I can tell you. Some of them blokes on the track got more wildlife in their beards than there is in the zoo.’

‘Is that why men scratch their beards a lot?’

‘Could be.’

As they passed the new dunny with real walls, Audrey called out, ‘Chip! Everhilda! It’s Bloke! The girl swaggie.’

Bloke stepped forward and offered her hand to Dad. He didn’t often shake hands with girls or women. Bloke squeezed his hand up and down as though it were a pump handle. If Bloke shook hands with the same strength that she slapped backs, then it had to hurt. But Dad didn’t even wince.

‘Bwoke,’ called Douglas, from behind Mum’s skirts.

Bloke didn’t shake Mum’s hand, but she showed her gums in a wide smile. ‘Mrs B,’ said Bloke, and tipped her hat just as a man would do.

Price said, ‘Hello.’ But he stayed back near the house. Which was good because he was as skinny as a greyhound. If Bloke shook hands with Price, she’d probably lift him right off the ground.

‘Did you visit us last night?’ Audrey asked Bloke.

Bloke shook her head. ‘Been walkin’ since sun-up. I was miles away last night. Couldn’t see the hand in front of me face in that dust storm. I stayed put till it passed.’ She took off her hat and wiped sweat from her face with her left forearm. Her brown hair was flattened and there was a red line across her forehead from her hatband. ‘And there’s not much chance of a cuppa if you turn up at night.’

The mystery of the moving shape in the darkness was still alive.

‘You behave yourself, mate.’

Eight

Audrey held out the tin. Bloke carefully placed an egg in it, then added a second and a third.

Suspicious of the big black rooster, Audrey kept her eyes on him. ‘Watch out for Nimrod. He’s started flying up at people. He doesn’t like anyone taking the eggs.’

Bloke grunted and kept searching the ground. The hens had little wooden boxes they were supposed to lay eggs in, but sometimes they dropped them in the yard. Audrey wondered why the eggs didn’t break when they fell out. It could be because chook bottoms weren’t that far off the ground.

‘It’s a good thing eggs aren’t round like cricket balls,’ said Audrey. ‘Otherwise they’d bounce.’

‘You might be right.’ Bloke squatted on her heels and eyeballed the big rooster. ‘You behave yourself, mate.’