Sunlit Shadow Dance Page 3

  He whistled as he walked back to his room, at least she was real, that was what he had got from his conversation with Rick. So now he needed to turn on the charm and find a way to get inside her head, to see what secrets were hidden, even if buried deep.

  So he showered, shaved, found his cleanest shirt and gave it an iron so it looked almost spick. He checked himself in the mirror. Not perfect but it would do; at least nothing to short-circuit his charm offensive. He saw a monogrammed hanky that his mother had given him; it was sitting inside his bag still, the only article not yet in the dirty clothes pile. That may come in handy if I spill some food or drink, he thought. He tucked it into his pocket.

  Someone had said that the barbeque was in the church hall alongside the church. He had seen the church with the cross on the roof as he made a circuit of the town when he first landed. It was at the other end of the town past the shop and petrol station. He stepped out, feeling lightness in his step that had been missing for the last year or more.

  Soon he came alongside a grey haired couple walking steadily along the street. He hailed them as he passed. They returned his greeting, smiled broadly, and introduced themselves, the church pastor, Doug, and his wife, Ruth, out for an evening stroll before they too went to the barbeque.

  Vic fell into step with them. As he joined their conversation a sense of courtly manners and wise kindness radiated from them. He found himself telling of how he came to be here, almost by accident and how he had to dig deep into his limited clothes to find something suitable to wear. They had a presence like some of the missionaries he had known as a child, simple good people, and he felt at ease chatting with them.

  They told him that, as of today, he was a minor celebrity in the town, the aboriginal helicopter pilot. Now he had half the school children wanting to follow in his career. They told him how their good friend, Jane, and they spoke her name with obvious affection, had told them how he had made a big hit with her toddler, David, who up until then would not let any other men come near him. They all shared a laugh at this. They asked him how long he was staying.

  He said he had to fly back to the Northern Territory in the morning; he had a distance of about 800 kilometres to fly before daylight Monday.

  The pastor asked, “Would you have time to come to church in the morning before you head away?”

  He shrugged and grimaced slightly. “Well you know Pastor, not really my cup of tea, so I better not make any promises, plus I had planned to go early. So I won’t say yes, but stranger things have happened, so you never know.”

  Doug and Ruth both smiled and nodded knowingly as the conversation moved on. Vic found himself wondering at his even half agreement, it was more than he had intended, but perhaps he was in the current of something much bigger and he just had to go with the flow.

  Soon they came to the church hall and Vic was introduced all around. There were maybe 50 people gathered, a quarter white, three quarters black and a few of in between shades, like himself. They were standing in loose groups, conversations drifting here and there. A gang of children, maybe twenty, ranging from toddlers to ten plus ran around between the adults grabbing handfuls of nibbles, while they chatted and drank fruit punch. It was friendly and welcoming. Vic found himself looking for the Jane person.

  Suddenly there she was at his elbow, carrying a platter of savoury pastries which she was offering around. She treated him to her brightest yet smile, not quite Susan like but somehow more familiar and welcoming than before. He thanked her and she moved away, continuing her rounds.

  She was dressed simply and plainly, no glamour of make up or hair style. Her clothes were probably op-shop hand me downs, neat but without any concession to fashion. Yet he still thought she looked lovely. He felt a huge compulsion to talk to her, to get to know this reincarnation that looked so like Susan, even if the light at her core was missing.

  However that was easier said than done in this busy social gathering. She continued to take a lead in the service of food and he had many people who wanted to talk to him; ask his advice about the cattle work, find out about how he came to be a successful helicopter pilot, trade stories with him of the bush. He enjoyed it and found it engaging, yet part of him wished for a quiet place where there were just two people and they could talk alone.

  However he participated with good heart, knowing he must be patient for a chance to come. He found himself seated with a big plate of food, surrounded by several stockman and Rick, all telling stories of cattle work. Jane was seated now at another table talking to the Pastor and his wife. Her two children were like unguided missiles, shooting amongst the floating mass of others, running here and there, sometimes eating, mostly laughing.

  He felt something grab his leg. It was David. He hoisted him to his lap and directed pieces of food his way as the conversation continued. David seemed content for a minute just to sit there and gaze around this crowd of men’s faces. After a few minutes he wriggled back down and ran off.

  Vic watched him as he hurtled back towards the place where his mother sat. Suddenly a small foot caught a chair leg. Vic watched as he crashed face first into the wooden floor. Vic was up and over to him in a bare second, lifting him up before he could start to cry. He did not begin to understand how his reflexes had moved him so fast.

  David had a cut on his lip and looked to be about to burst into a crying fit, but then he saw this man’s face holding him. He took a deep breath as he calmed himself and controlled the tears. There was something so ‘Susan like’ in that little gesture. It shook Vic to the core, that ability for self-control.

  He took the hanky from his pocket and dabbed it on the cut, just a smudge of blood. He gently held it there for a minute while the boy remained quiet. He removed the hanky and the lip seemed OK though no doubt it would be swollen in the morning. He returned the boy to the floor, giving him a pat on the head and saying. “You are a brave little fella.”

  David toddled off, minor injury forgotten. Vic looked up to see Jane’s eyes on him. They were serious, not smiling but seeking, as if trying to find some tiny fragment of another self. As he caught her eyes she looked away.

  It seemed all too soon when the night was ending, no late night revelry here. He had found no chance to talk to her in anything approaching a private setting. Now he saw her walking towards him bringing her two little children, one holding each hand.

  She stood before him, in a simple and unassuming manner, saying. “I am sorry, I need to take my children home to bed now, they are both tired. I just wanted to say thank you for minding David, particularly when he fell over.

  “I am not sure if you can manage it in the morning, before you leave, but if you can it would be really nice if you could come to church. Service starts at 9 am and our choir has been practicing some songs to sing. I would like it if you came.”

  He wanted to jump up and escort her home, but something restrained him. He had a sixth sense that he had to take it slowly, allow trust to grow and give her time to open up when she was more comfortable. He still did not know if this lady was Susan or someone else, but it no longer mattered so desperately. He just wanted to know her more, the face of the enigma. So he stilled his impatience and watched her walk out the door, knowing that he was destined to be at church in the morning.

  He looked up to see Rick looking at him in an appraising manner, “I don’t pretend to know what is going on inside your head, but there is something happening there. And not just for you, our Jane has shown more animation tonight than in the year and a half she has been here.”

  Vic nodded, “You could be right. I promise I will tell you soon. I need to do more work around here, so as to have a reason to make some more visits. Make sure my name gets to the top of the list if you hear of helicopter jobs going, hell I can even drive a bull catcher if it comes to that.”

  Rick nodded. “I get it, jobs north, south, east and west of here with ferry stops and overnights here. I might need a commission to act as your local age
nt, but I will see what I can do.”

  Chapter 5 - Monochrome

  Jane dreamt of lying in bed, without memory, with the unknown man, again that night.

  It was a broken night of sleep. David was restless and irritable with the cut to his lip. In the end, she brought him into bed with her to help him settle and, of course, Anne would not stay alone without her inseparable brother in the crib next to hers. So they both ended up sleeping in her bed; fortunately it was a big double bed so they all had space to stretch out. She put them on the inside where the mattress was hard against the wall. That way she knew they would not fall out of bed and wake up screaming.

  So, for a couple hours after she came to bed, she lay there in a restless state, soothing her children until they finally settled. After that she found her own mind was wide awake and active as it relived her remembered life, the almost eighteen months since her memories had begun in April last year, just at the end of the rainy season, with her children born in early May. It was now October and the nights were getting hot, she could feel sweat on her skin from places where her children were touching her despite the ceiling fan whirring away. The covers, which her children needed to settle, seemed too heavy on her skin and made her hot.

  She found herself wondering about David and why he had taken to this strange new man, the one that looked at her with such piercing eyes, as if she should know him, though she had no idea why he thought that.

  He was just another stranger who she had seen for the first time earlier today. The funny thing was he had begun to have a color in her imagination this night, a nut brown color, not all of him, but the bare skin on his arms, those strong arms which had effortlessly picked David up and hoisted him into the air, sitting on his shoulders. She found herself smiling as she remembered the way David had chortled as he sat on top, loving the view and patting this man’s head like a pet dog.

  Every other time a man had reached for David, to pick him up or restrain him, David had cried out in fear and she needed to take him and comfort him. Even now, after well over a year, he would barely allow Pastor Doug to touch him though he went happily to his wife Ruth and to other children. And yet he had gone straight to this man, Vic, without hesitation. She intended to give Anne to Vic to hold, knowing she would be fine. Instead he had picked up David before she had a chance to suggest that.

  She felt a small bit of worry about David, Anne was resilient and outgoing but David was very shy and dependent on her and his twin sister. She would have liked him to be a bit more confident. When she was out with other people he mostly just clung to her skirts. Maybe it was a stage he was going through. She had no one else to compare him too. While she loved her importance to him, she wanted him to become braver and less dependent. So yesterday had been a big step forward. She really hoped this man would come to church to see and listen to her sing. Singing was the one time she felt complete, as if she had something of value to give to others.

  It was funny, but when she had first come to this place she had no real sense of a missing past, just an empty place before her memory started and a new reality began. But she knew there must have been a past somewhere, a man to father her children, a mother and father of her own. She did not miss not knowing them, but she did feel a vague curiosity about who these people were, most particularly her mother.

  It had come to her clearly one day when she wanted to know when her babies would be able to walk, people had told her that most children learnt to walk at about a year of age but some learnt early at nine months and some took up to a year and a half. She found herself wondering how old she was when she took her first steps. Then the thought occurred to her that, if she had a mother nearby, then she could ask her. So she wondered what had happened to her own mother so that she did not know her.

  Now, as she lay tossing in bed, her mind wandered to another place, thinking affectionately of her best friends the church pastor and his wife, Ruth, who seemed to have adopted her. She remembered them coming to the hospital the day after her babies were born, introducing themselves, and offering to make a prayer for her babies’ health and happiness. She had accepted, thinking this must be the normal thing people did with babies. It had been nice, hearing them say kind words for her and her children.

  Then Pastor Doug had suggested she have her babies baptized a few weeks later. She assumed this was also part of what one did so she said ‘Yes’ again. He had asked her if she wanted to invite anyone, like parents or family. She said she did not know where her parents or family were. So he suggested an aboriginal man and woman from the church to stand in as god parents. She accepted that too as they seemed like nice people and they now were also her friends.

  As she looked back on her remembered life she thought about another thing she had since discovered about herself which was peculiar. Her life had no colours.

  People often talked about the colour of things, the green of trees, the blue of the sky, the brown of the earth. She saw shades which she thought were those colors. But, a few months ago, she had been having a cup of tea at Ruth’s house while her babies played. She was looking at two books on the coffee table there; they both had pictures of people and places. To her the pictures in both books looked much the same, nice but nothing special.

  Ruth had come and sat alongside, looking with her. Pointing to one picture, Ruth said, “Isn’t that sky the most beautiful blue colour?”

  She had replied, “It looks the same to me as that other picture,” pointing to a picture with sky in the other book.

  Ruth said, puzzled, “But that is just a black and white picture, how can you tell they look the same?”

  Jane said, as if it was normal, “They both look the same to me.”

  So they had turned a few pages of both books together and Ruth had pointed out different colours which all looked the same shade to Jane. Gradually they had both come to realize that Ruth was seeing something that Jane could not, a thing she called colours.

  Jane had thought, before, she was seeing colours too. Since then she realized that what she was seeing was shades of grey. It had not seemed a big deal to her, she could see just fine and she could work out what things were from the shades she saw, even if Ruth seemed a bit concerned.

  Soon after that she started to go to church each weekend, at first to keep Ruth and Doug happy. But it was nice. Pastor Doug mostly told happy stories which she liked.

  But what she discovered, which she most liked at church, was the music. The church had a choir; she really liked listening to the choir. One day the choir sang a new song which she had never heard before. It was an aboriginal song by a blind man called Gurrumul. He lived at a place called Gove; it was somewhere towards Darwin in the part of Australia called the Northern Territory. This day, someone played a new song which Gurrumul sung on CD music player. The church choir sang along.

  “I was born blind, I don’t know why.

  God made me blind, because he loves me so.”

  As they started to sing, suddenly this beautiful blue colour started to come out of their mouths. She had sat there crying, it was so beautiful. The music was really beautiful; it had the most exquisite notes and melody. And the words were really beautiful, as if they had been written just for her.

  She realised that like this man, Gurrumul, she had a part of her that could not see; she could not see the past and she could not see the colours of the world. But now she knew it really did not matter because God had made it so and he loved her anyway. But what made it so special was that, as Gurrumul sang and the choir sang, and as the words and music came out together, she could see a colour too. It was just one colour but it was the most beautiful blue and, because it was so, so very beautiful, it made her cry.

  That day she had joined the choir and loved to sing all the songs, but particularly this song. When she sung the other songs, she felt she could almost see some colour, like the sun trying to break through a thick cloud, when it was raining heavily, and she would see tiny glimpses of colo
urs flash. But when she sang or heard this song, then the purest and most beautiful blue colour came out. She could see it so clearly even if other people did not seem to. That made her feel really, really happy, all over.

  Then yesterday, not when she first met him, Vic, but when he picked up her baby, David, and put him on his shoulders, and again after he cut his lip, suddenly Vic had a color too. It was not an all over color but it was a color to his arms where they were wrapped around her baby. It was a rich brown color; she called it nut brown in her mind, it was so real and warm.

  If she could see that colour on him then perhaps he would see the blue colour she saw when she sang; she really hoped so. So she had she had invited him to come and hear the singing. It was not something she had ever done before, to invite anyone to anything, though Ruth had organized and invited people to a couple things for her, like the baptism and birthday party of her children. But this time it was she who had wanted him to come and the invitation popped out of her mouth. Now she was glad it had. She hoped he would come to see and hear the singing and that he would like it, his opinion mattered to her.

  She was feeling comfortable and happy thinking about this as she finally drifted off to sleep in the late night, with her children’s bodies pressed into her. Then she woke with the dream, like she had before, where there was another body in the bed and she did not know it or anything else. She had felt the shape. I was a hard and angular shaped; a body of elbows and bony protuberances. It must be a man.

  This time she had really wanted to see it, to see a face and to know who it was. But she was so afraid, afraid to know this person and the story that went with it, lest it tear her apart and destroy her. So her fear had stopped her. Instead she had buried her face in the pillow and tried to hide it from her mind. But, in forcing herself to pull away, she was so lonely, so utterly alone; her insides feel desolate.