I had not organized anywhere to stay so told the taxi driver to take me to the nearest youth hostel. As I crashed onto my bed (I had a room all to myself, to my great relief), still thinking of Cain and with two questions chasing each other round in my head:
1) How do I get to see the Aborigine people? I wanted to spend time with them but didn’t know anyone who knew them, and
2) Where do I get boot wax? My boots were scuffed and I’d become a little obsessed with cleaning them up.
That night I did not sleep well, feeling sad about Cain and uncertain about my purpose in being in Australia. The next morning another man checked into my room and it transpired that he was Australia’s leading UFO investigator and one of his team had spent many years living with the Aborigine people. He immediately arranged for me to meet her in three days time.
I then spent several hours looking for boot wax but, in that huge city, none seemed to exist. The next day a friend took me to an Australian Rules game and then I eventually got to meet the lady who had lived with the Aborigines. She could give me no contacts or ways to meet them and told me that if I wanted to see them, I’d have to wait till they came to me. I left her house feeling disappointed.
The only thing I could think of doing was to go to Alice Springs so, the next day, I took the nine-hour train trip to Adelaide. There was a six-hour wait-over till the Ghan* left for Alice Springs. I sat in the railway café, with a coffee, to write letters to my two children in New Zealand. To get my writing gear out of my bag, I had had to get some other books our first, which I left on the table while I wrote. One of the books was a spiritual one, by Sanaya Ramon and, as I was writing, a lady stopped and stared at the book.
I looked up uncertainly.
“Are you into spiritual things?” she asked. She introduced herself as Szuson Wong, a Chinese American. I assured her I was very interested in such things and so she got a drink and food and then joined me at my table. We chatted animatedly and with great absorption in each other’s stories till the train left. Among many other things, she told me about a book called Mutant Message Down Under by a Marlo Morgan. In the book, Marlo, an American nurse, arrived, as a stranger, in an Aboriginal community and they greeted her with: “Bout time you come! We been waiting long time to see you!”
As Szuson told me this story, bolts of hot and cold lightening shot through me and I felt like I was levitating, somehow. For a split second that went on forever, I felt a disconnection, an other-worldliness, at hearing this. When I recovered my power of speech, my first words were: “Wow! Wouldn’t it be so amazing for that to happen!”
Two weeks later it did ... this will be continued and, in the meantime, you can follow Arthur Bayly's story, from the recently-written novel, The Importance of Being Arthur ...
* The railway line from Adelaide, through Alice Springs and to Darwin was built (mainly) with Afghan labour. In their honour, the train that runs the track is called The Ghan.
"Oh, careful, that jars, you bully," said Toby, striding out, holding his sore arm gingerly. Amanda sneaked up to the corner of the corridor and waited. She heard a distant door open and shut and, soon after, someone was asking, "Where are you, mate?"
"Out in the passage," yelled the guard back.
Amanda could hear no footsteps on the thick carpet and made her move, based on gut feeling and guesswork, as to when the man would be over Toby. She reached the second guard just as he was about to kick an apparently oblivious Toby, kneeling beside the prone man. Amanda slipped one bag over the man's head and, as he faltered, struggling with an unexpected impediment, she grabbed his ankles and pulled them together, as good as any All Black tackler. He toppled and fell forward just as Toby rolled away and jumped up to plant his foot heavily between the man's shoulders, like a triumphant boxer. Amanda quickly tied his ankles together with a muslin bag and leapt upon his backside to claim his now-pinioned arms. Between them they managed to get his arms behind his back and tied up with another muslin bag.
It all happened so quickly there was hardly time for a sound, save the odd oomph and argh and the carpet and solid walls absorbed most of the sounds. They rolled the second, trussed-up guard off his guv'nor and let him lie there, panting surprised and embarrassed.
The man at the bottom of the little pile was stirred to life and started groaning. His hand went to his head, perhaps to feel for cuts, and Amanda knew she had to act.
"Quick, stop him moving!" commanded Amanda as she grabbed another muslin bag and trussed his wrists together behind his back, with a little help from Toby. She then did the same with his feet. "Right, we've got three we don't want moving and they can, while we've got one we want to move and he can't."
"Well, at least they won't move till the police get here," said Toby, smiling.
"The police are already here! If only you knew," said Amanda, looking at Toby and considering whether or not to say any more. "Look, I've just got to make a phone call. Can you keep an eye on these guys for a minute, please?" She went into the kitchen for privacy, dialled the number, spoke to Superintendent Hopkins at Scotland Yard and returned to the men.
As Amanda and Toby looked at each other, wondering what to do or say next, Arthur stirred and started to mumble. Amanda rushed over to him and knelt by his face. His lips were moving from time to time as if he was conversing with someone.
"Are you okay, Arthur?" asked Amanda quietly as she placed her hand gently on his forehead. "I'm listening."
"Maybe he's delusional, just raving …" said Toby.
"Sshhh!" said Amanda. "We're listening, Arthur."
"But he's just …" said Toby.
"Shut up will ya!" said Amanda. "Give him a chance."
"He's frightened," said Arthur faintly, with a gentle smile across his face.
"Who's frightened?" asked Amanda, not sure she heard him right.
"Toby is. Toby is frightened," said Arthur quietly. Amanda had to bend close to his face to hear him.
"Toby is frightened of what?" asked Amanda, caressing his forehead gently.
"I'm not frightened. He's just …" said Toby, stopping mid-sentence as Amanda's withering glare stopped him. He looked perturbed but he kept his mouth shut and shuffled a little closer to Amanda and Arthur as if daring himself to hear more.
"He's frightened of the love," said Arthur quietly, taking in a deliberate breath and his smile never leaving his face.
"The love?" asked Amanda, looking quizzically at Toby.
"The love he fears," whispered Arthur. "So he uses his own strength."
"His own strength?" asked Amanda, not sure whether she should look at Toby or not. Toby shuffled closer, intrigued and a little annoyed.
"His own strength … not letting the love through," said Arthur weakly with the steady smile still on his face.
"The love?" asked Toby, intrigued and now kneeling next to Amanda.
"The love is power, is knowledge," said Arthur, panting a little as if he was tiring but had words he needed to get out. "Listen to the love inside. Amanda can teach listening."
"Listen?" asked Toby, now more sure than ever that Arthur was raving. But something invisible pulled him into Arthur's words.
"Amanda knows the listening," said Arthur. "She listens often."
"Arthur's right, Toby," said Amanda. "I know what he means, totally."
"When she listens to the love, she's not frightened," said Arthur, panting a bit but no strain showed on his face. "When she does, the love speaks its power. Life flows."
"Yes, when I do, things do flow," said Amanda. "It's effortless but I keep forgetting."
"Not forgetting," said Arthur in his hoarse whisper. "Not forget but not believe you deserve the power."
"Oh," said Amanda, not sure what to say.
"Nothing to say, just listen," said Arthur. "Listen to each other. Much power there."
Amanda and Toby looked at each other uncertainly.
"I must go inside now," said Arthur, smiling uncertainly. "There is nothing to fear and I shall return." His lids slowly closed over his eyes and a deep and abiding silence filled their space.
As they stood up looking at Arthur, his closing eyes seemed to dim the light, a light they hadn't noticed before. There seemed to be nothing and everything to say and Arthur's peaceful face gave no clues. They stood there, daring to look at each other, with empty minds and stilled tongues. No one moved, not even the overweight guard who had been constantly fighting his awkward position - he stopped and his look of embarrassed annoyance was swept away by one of smiling benevolence, as if someone had just told him a beautiful and moving story. George Sanderson, too, stopped his twitching and his attempts to rouse his body to full consciousness. A warm and gentle breeze, a zephyr, touched their cheeks and Toby and Amanda looked at each other as if wondering if the other had brushed their cheeks. Neither had and it fell to their imagination to wonder at the zephyr inside a house with so many thick walls and massive doors. This zephyr, this softest of breezes, soon passed and they blinked as if waking from a sweet dream. Arthur seemed oblivious to it all, in peaceful repose.
The other two men started their fidgeting again, though tentatively as if waiting for permission to continue.
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