The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring (7 page)

"David?" Nicholas asked.

"Not the whole hog, yeah?"

Nicholas grunted assent, and instead thrust up against him, hard and hot now and the friction just on the right side of bearable. Dave came almost without being aware of it, the dreams slipping through into reality and the pleasure pushing him back into a sweet daze. Nicholas had to work for his release, his cock sliding through the stickiness of Dave's spunk, his mouth alternating bites and kisses. Dave ran his hands down Nicholas's back, soothing him, maybe helping, maybe not. But then at last Nicholas came, and he collapsed into Dave's embrace, and Dave rocked him gently, voicing an incoherent murmur on every breath, until eventually Nicholas fell asleep.

Early the next morning, Charlie rang.

"Mate," Charlie said when Dave answered the phone.

Dave instinctively responded to the slight edge of worry to Charlie's tone. "What is it? What's wrong?"

There was a brief silence which Dave knew better than to interrupt. Then Charlie said, "I heard from people that Ted Walinski, that surveyor, has been asking questions in Cunnamulla."

Dave let a beat go by. "What kind of questions?"

"He has a lump of what he says is hematite, and he's showing it to the locals, asking if they know where it came from."

"Hematite being …"

"Iron ore."

Dave frowned over that, trying to ignore the sense of dread like lead in his stomach. "Are you sure?" He turned to find Robin sitting at the table in the family room, apparently playing some kind of game on his phone. "Robin, I've got an old geology textbook in the spare room. Would you fetch it for me?"

Robin didn't budge, but asked helpfully enough, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to check that hematite is the kind of iron ore that the mining companies are after."

A nod from Robin, as he swiped out of the game and started tapping away at the virtual keyboard.

Dave turned back to the phone. "Charlie." He took a breath. "Does that mean he's found the waterhole?"

"Walinski? Nah. But he's saying the rock came from west of town, out beyond the Aboriginal reserve."

Which caused more frowning. "But if he hasn't found the waterhole, then how does he know that's where the rock came from?"

"Guess he found it in the general area, and can't find his way further in, and you've made him curious." Charlie huffed a sigh, and Dave could perfectly visualise him round-faced with breath-filled cheeks. "It's not the actual Dreaming site he's interested in."

"No, but it's bad enough, isn't it?"

"It
is
bad," Robin chipped in.

Dave turned to face him, and held the phone in his direction, too, hoping that Charlie would hear. "Go on, then."

"Wikipedia says that iron ore containing hematite is what the mining companies like best, because it can go directly into the furnaces without any processing. They call it ‘natural ore'. And it gets worse," Robin added.

By then Nicholas had come through from the lounge room, and was hovering anxiously. Charlie prompted, "Go on," in Dave's ear, which Dave passed on with an encouraging nod.

"It says that most reserves of natural ore have been used up already, or the ones that are accessible, anyway. So I guess that means," Robin said, looking at Dave with widened gaze, "they'll be really keen."

An edgy silence grew.

Nicholas sat down beside Robin, and tried to read the entry Robin had displayed on his phone, but really Nicholas couldn't tear his attention away from Dave.

Eventually Charlie said, "I'm heading down there, mate. To Cunnamulla. I'll see what's happening."

"I'll meet you there," said Dave.

Nicholas nodded, and stood up again. "I'll get us packed."

"Are you sure? We've got that fossicking trip coming up. Maybe you two should pace yourselves."

"No, we'll come," said Nicholas.

Dave lifted his chin at Robin. "It's a ten-hour drive, mate. You sure you're up for it?"

"We're coming, Uncle David," said Robin, also standing, like he meant business.

"We'll see you tonight, Charlie," said Dave.

"Take the Goondiwindi road," Charlie advised.

Dave didn't even bother asking why. "Will do. See ya, then."

"See ya."

"Shall we pack for a couple of nights?" Nicholas asked. "Or more, just in case?"

By the time they reached Cunnamulla that evening, there was already a buzz in the air. It was soon clear that the local community had been quick to extrapolate from a lump of reddish rock to a huge investment in the area from a well-funded mining company.

Dave, Nicholas and Robin found Charlie at the second of the pubs they tried. He was sitting back in a chair at a small table, with his arms crossed, looking as if his thoughts were miles away. Dave murmured a greeting, but when Charlie didn't respond, the three of them simply sat, and worked out what they would have for dinner. By the time Dave had been to the bar to order – including steak, potatoes and veg for Charlie – and returned with two beers and two lemonades, he'd overheard enough in any case.

"You know what happens to wages when the mining boys come to town?" one bloke asked his companion, purely rhetorically.

"They go through the roof, mate," was the complacent response.

"Mate, they'd go through the roof of a ten-storey building."

"So do prices, though," someone else chipped in.

"Reckon I can live with that."

"There's none ever come this far west, though," another guy fretfully observed.

"They'd come for ‘shipping ore'. That's the quality stuff!"

"We've already got the railway," the first bloke reassured everyone in hearing distance, "and the airport, too."

Dave sat down again next to Nicholas with a sigh, and his husband gazed back at him worriedly.

"How long until dinner's ready?" asked Robin.

"Won't be long, mate. Ten, fifteen minutes."

"David," said Nicholas, leaning forward to speak quietly. "David, what about the butterflies?"

"They'll be all right. We'll do whatever it takes, Nicholas."

"David –"

"Maybe nothing will come of this anyway," Dave said, trying to remind himself of that fact. "And even if it did, it'll be obvious to everyone that we have to protect the butterflies. Quite apart from the – the rest."

He hadn't managed to quite say ‘Dreamtime', because one of the younger blokes had come up to the table. "Did you hear?" he asked – not waiting for an answer before he continued. "They've found iron ore west of here."

"Yeah, we picked up on that," Dave replied in what he hoped were neutral tones.

"Apparently it's somewhere near where you guys go camping, you know?"

They were all four of them silent, which probably wasn't the best response.

"Is that why you guys are here again? Gonna see if you can help find it?"

"Oh! No … No …" Dave tilted his head, trying to gather his thoughts. Lying didn't come easy, but he wasn't sure yet about where to draw the line between concealing and revealing the truth. "We're, uh – We've got a fossicking trip coming up, out Yowah way. Thought we'd scout the place. See if Charlie'll join us."

"Sure. Yowah nuts!" the young bloke responded enthusiastically.

Robin's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Yowah nuts … ? Sounds painful."

"They're opals," Dave explained to Robin. "You find them inside rocks," he indicated the size and rough shape with a cupped hand. "Reddish-brown rocks that look like large nuts – the sort you eat. Never mind that," he said as Nicholas's smirk grew. "Or maybe they look like gumnuts, I dunno. They're round or ellip- … egg-shaped."

"How do you know the opals are in there, then?"

"You learn what to look for. You develop an eye for it."

"Cool!" Robin said, lighting up. "Oh, I'm going to find the most beautiful opal in all the world …"

Charlie finally stirred out of his reverie. "Opals? Count me in."

The four of them ate their dinner in relative silence, each of them tired or downcast or both. Finally, once they were done and the table was cleared, Charlie leaned in and offered, "Like you said: maybe nothing will come of it."

But Dave shook his head. "We can't take the risk. Not on this." He pushed in closer, too, leaning his elbows on the table, trying to look casual. "Look. Can we head out to the reserve tomorrow, and maybe – finally – start a conversation with the Elders?"

Charlie pursed his lips. "It's all just been talk, hasn't it, and a few locals with dollar signs in their eyes."

"I know, but if something's gonna happen, then we want to stay one step ahead, right?"

A shrug from those eloquent shoulders, but then Charlie said, "Yeah, all right." A few minutes later he tipped a farewell nod to them, and headed out.

Dave sighed. "Come on, then," he said to the others. "Let's get checked in to the hotel."

Dave and Charlie had been here many times before. Once or twice a year, they came to the reserve, sat in a circle with the Elders and anyone else who happened to be there that day, and they spoke when they were spoken to but otherwise held their peace.

No one ever raised the matter of Charlie knowing the Dreaming songs for the waterhole when actually he shouldn't, nor about him having had the audacity to then pass them on to a white fella. Charlie had gone on his own to tell them that news, seven years ago now, and had reported that the circle of men and women had all talked and talked until everyone understood, and then they'd fallen quiet as they'd pondered the situation. There had been no conclusions reached, no judgement given.

Dave had gone to the reserve with Charlie a tactful month or so later, half-knowing that he should be forbidden from the sacred site, half-expecting to be quizzed or harassed about it all, but of course that wasn't the Murri way. Everyone still seemed to be taking it in and trying to work out what to think about the matter. Later he wondered if the Elders had decided on a ‘wait and see' approach. None of the Murri spoke against him and Charlie keeping the songs alive, or at least not in Dave's hearing. Perhaps they, like Charlie, took the pragmatic view that the important thing was that the songs be sung, that the Earth's energies be renewed, that the relationship between land and people be maintained.

And so, in the ‘eternal now' or ‘everywhen' of Indigenous thinking, the Elders were pondering – and in Dave's white-fella view, time passed, and the whole thing became a fait accompli. Which was fine by Dave, and if it could have lasted through decades until it was finally time to find someone else to learn the songs, that would have been great. But it seemed that gubbah business – white-fella stuff – was going to intrude whether they were ready or not.

That day, Nicholas and Robin went to join the sociable mob which was gathered in front of the local store. They were soon sharing a drink and a jovial yarn with a range of people of all ages, all colours. After a few moments to make sure they were going to be okay, however, Dave and Charlie headed for the quieter group who were sitting in a loose circle under the shade of a huge red gum. There was a space that would fit the two of them and, as they approached, one of the Elders nodded – whether that was coincidental or not, Dave nodded a greeting, and he and Charlie settled cross-legged on the ground.

It was peacefully quiet in the circle, at just enough distance from the other mob that they couldn't make out specific words amidst the general talk – at least not until there was a scandalised "No way!" from Robin, which caused much merriment. Dave could make out Nicholas's laugh amidst the rest, which made him smile, and he exchanged a fond glance with Charlie.

Eventually, when there was a lull in the thoughts and meandering words of the group, Dave quietly asked, "May I talk to you, please? About the waterhole, about the Dreaming site where the Barcoo grunter sleeps." He didn't use the place's proper name, or the Ancestor's, even in this company. Neither did he have to explain further. It wasn't as if they didn't all know, even if they'd never spoken to him about it.

The lull became something more attentive, and a few of the others exchanged quiet words between themselves. After a while Dave sensed that he was welcome to continue, and Charlie murmured, "Yeah, go on."

"It's a very beautiful place," Dave surprised himself by saying. "It's precious. The water in the pool … it's like a jewel. The colours are so vivid … The layers of rock are red, and there's the green of the eucalypts, the gold of the wattle when it flowers. There are the butterflies, the most fantastic blue butterflies. My husband found them." He indicated Nicholas, though of course everyone there already knew about Dave and Nicholas. "The butterflies are unique, he thinks – but it's not only that. They're part of the Dreaming story about the waterhole, about the Ancestor who sleeps there and the Ancestor he loved who came down from the sky. It's a … a really incredible place."

He stumbled to a halt, having completely failed to reach the nub of the matter.

But then one of Elders nodded, and said, "We know you love the land."

Dave almost let out a gasp at that, and his eyes prickled embarrassingly. He hadn't expected to ever hear such a thing. Not ever. "Thank you," he said, not daring to even glance at Charlie for fear of the tears really welling up.

After a moment Dave considered what to say next. Even after such an acknowledgement, he wasn't going to ask permission to continue as custodian of the site, and risk a refusal. He had better pass on the news first, and then see where that left them.

"Look," Dave said, cutting right to the chase now, in his white-fella way. "The rock there – I think it's so red because it contains iron ore. And now a surveyor is trying to find it, and everyone in town is getting all excited, expecting a mining company to follow."

A silence fell after this great blurt. Dave looked around at faces that seemed even more enigmatic than usual. Charlie was looking pensive.

Eventually one of the men commented, "If they bring jobs and money, that's worth getting excited about."