Vanishing Point (23 page)

As evening approached Petri drove south towards the track near Ponton Creek. At least on the maps it was called a creek. In reality it was a sandy depression with fewer trees and bushes than the surrounding country. Petri kept his eyes open for a possible camp site. He planned to make the final leg of his journey into Kalgoorlie next morning.

Sooner than expected he found the local track he'd driven along a few days previously before turning off into unmarked ground. He bumped his vehicle over the small ridges of sand left at the edges by a grader and turned west along the track. As he settled in for the drive he noted the position of the sun, now making it more difficult to see through the windscreen, and calculated how long before he had to make camp. In a few hours tracks would be criss-crossing the country and he knew he was well on the way home.

Petri, alone in his vehicle in the bush for weeks at a time, had much time to think and very little time to socialise. He considered his anchoritic life as a geologist. He was thirty-one and there had been no long-term relationship since he left university. Most of his friends had married and were buying homes. Some had started families. Petri found that invitations to social events were less frequent than in the past. Even now in the liberated 1970's a single male was rare and, as friends became couples, he was like a fifth wheel on a wagon. His most serious relationship, with a girl he met while at university, lasted four years. It had been a roller-coaster relationship. She acknowledged that exploration geologists have to travel away from home for long periods. Soon, however, she began to pressure him for a commitment. At that stage Petri wasn't ready for marriage or a family.

On night he returned earlier than expected from a field excursion to find her in his bed, naked and fast asleep. Next to her was a student he had helped with some motor repairs. It was the end of the relationship.

Since then there were several brief affairs but nothing serious.

Petri considered the short visits he had made to Melbourne for research. If he acknowledged the truth of it he was making more trips than strictly necessary because of Shelley. He was aware that she was interested in Alec who, while he seemed attracted to her, was going out of his way to stay aloof. What a pity Shelley lived on the other side of the continent. But even if he moved closer, how could he court her if Alec was still keen?

K
atherine stood alone on the weathered wooden boards of the veranda, sipping her cool coffee and gazing into space. It was pitch dark, and quiet - not a hint of the bush noises she normally associated with night. Absolutely silent. As she stood alone with her thoughts a red glow appeared on the horizon. At first she thought it to be a distant fire, but even as she wondered what a fire might mean to her and the bush, what events might occur as a result, she saw the rising edge of the moon. It progressively grew larger, the colour of ripe cheddar and by the time her cup was drained it stood large and golden, just tipping the tops of the scattered trees.

As it rose higher it seemed to shrivel slightly to its accepted size and debased to silvery white. It converted the pitch night to one bathed in soft light, with skeletal trees casting gentle moon shadows.

‘Moon shadows,' she whispered. It seemed like her life, just moon shadows.

In the past a cup of coffee in the quiet stillness of night would have brought warm feelings of love, comfort and perhaps even romance. Now, as she stood alone, tipping out the last three drops from the mug on to the sand at the edge of the veranda, she felt only deep anger.

She was sure she was pregnant. All the signs were there; two misses and a slight feeling of nausea in the morning. Benjamin wasn't aware, yet and she felt no compunction to tell him. He would find out soon enough. He didn't follow her life patterns closely, just ensured she was there when he wanted or needed her. Deep within her a well of hatred swelled; she felt so helpless, controlled and humiliated. ‘Used' would be too gentle a term for her feelings. Within her body an unwanted seed had been planted and even now was growing, mitosis-by-mitosis, swelling, developing, forming tiny organs and limbs.

The contrast with how she felt during the time when she carried Carolyn struck her. Then, each moment was exciting and precious. Every morning she would lie in bed and touch her belly, thinking about how much their child had grown. At this stage she would have been impatient for the quickening, that wonderful feeling of active life inside her. To have Carolyn growing inside her gave her a powerful feeling, that of a goddess, a creator. It was intensely personal, yet it happened all the time to millions of women.

Though she and Alec shared the excitement of her pregnancy, both being equally thrilled as he put his head against her swelling body to hear a heartbeat, somehow the process was something that only she, a woman, could deeply experience. It was the most defining difference between the genders. It was something a male could feel only vicariously, through the eyes of his partner. Even with his hand on her expanded, stretched belly to feel the moving foetus and seeing the glow of anticipated motherhood in his wife's eyes, Alec's joy was a pale reflection.

Now Katherine felt the polar opposite. Any innate feelings of warmth were swamped, even drowned, by bitter anger. She didn't think of the growing foetus as a baby, a child, a human-in-the-making but rather as an invasive canker. She hated the idea that this creature would grow and swell and eventually slide out as evidence of his power and her ultimate surrender. Her body had become just a medium, control over which she remained helpless.

She wished she could rid herself of the pregnancy. Thoughts of abortion, even suicide, crossed her mind. But what of Carolyn? How could she do such a thing?

So her anger turned from her unwanted foetus to him. Her captor. Her master. She identified very easily with the women in history, so often used as political tools to cement alliances, or worse, the poor women of war ravaged parts of the world where rape was used as a strategy of war, a mechanism to create fear and flight. Women were just property to be given to victorious men to satisfy their lusts. She began to hate men in general, not just for war and bloodshed but also for the misuse of their power and brute strength to subjugate women.

The evening Bible readings with Benjamin emphasised the inferior position of women. They were always unimportant, to be used, sidelines to history. Their only role seemed to be that of a vessel for procreation. Male begat male. If infertile, it was always the woman at fault. Little had changed. The idea of abortion reminded her of men's domination of women's reproduction: from church to law. Men sat in judgement, men made the laws and men largely carried them out. Women were grossly under-represented in determining the moral issues of reproduction, yet women bore the greater physical burden.

A tear slid down her cheek. Alec's words came echoing back, ‘Life is unfair. The sooner we get used to it, the happier we'll be.' How she missed him. What was he doing right now?

* * *

Katherine carried on as usual, teaching Carolyn and working around the Factory. Karl visited occasionally and when her pregnancy became obvious, in spite of the kaftan-like coverings she had made from her ‘rewards' he was as pleased as if he himself had impregnated her.

On one of his visits he found her alone and approached her. ‘Well, now ya's a real woman, eh?' He came up behind her and put his arms around her. His hands met on the now obvious swelling. ‘A proper wife what fucks ‘er man. I'se real proud of ya. ‘Bout bloody time.'

Katherine prised away his hands. ‘It's none of your business. And you've no reason to be proud. Both you and Benjamin should be ashamed, as ashamed as I am. I had no choice.'

Karl's heady body odour and alcoholic breath made her nauseous. As he went to press his mouth against the back of her neck, Benjamin appeared around the corner of the building. Karl stepped back, said nothing and carried on with his work.

During the evening meal he said, ‘Well, ya gunna be a Dad, eh,' and slapped Benjamin on the back as Katherine served them. ‘Congrats, mate. A bubs of ya own. He kin help ya round ‘ere, come ‘roo shootin' with me and we can make a fortune selling skins and honey, eh?'

Even in her present state of mind Katherine noted that the assumption was that the unborn child would be male.

Benjamin smiled at his friend. ‘Yeah. An' I'll remember it was ya what helped ‘er decide to be me wife, proper wife. Thanks, mate.'

Karl ignored Katherine, which suited her just fine. He revolted her and her memories of how he had taught her to be submissive still rankled. It raised blushes when she thought of all the humiliations she endured to prevent Carolyn being hurt or more emotionally scarred than she no doubt already was.

As the pregnancy advanced she increasingly worried about the birth. Carolyn had arrived easily. For her it had been a hospital, a supportive husband, doctors, nurses, and sterile environment. This time it was with a man she regarded almost as a rapist, no medical support and probably as far from sterile as one could get.

Katherine was surprised when, as her time approached, Benjamin arranged for one of the Aboriginal women from Cundeelee to come and help her. Once more hope sprung up that Katherine could get news of her predicament out to the world. It was not to be. The woman brought to the Factory spoke only her own language and a very small amount of broken English.

Apart from learning that her name was Jenny and that she had delivered many babies, Katherine learnt little else about this kind and gentle woman whose mouth seemed to be crinkled into a permanent smile. The women communicated by touching, pointing and through their mutual feminine instincts. They laughed together as their understanding grew.

A baby boy was born towards the end of the year, as the summer heat was starting to cause waves of haze across the red sands. It was, as Katherine so desperately hoped, a relatively easy birth. Labour pains started in the early hours of the morning. Jenny was sleeping on a nearby mat. When Katherine's contractions started and she cried out, Jenny immediate rose and took Katherine outside, away from Carolyn who remained fast asleep. There the men would not be able to see them. ‘Woman business,' she said.

Jenny indicated Katherine was to stand against the edge of the building where she could reach up and hold on to an extended beam. Jenny had prepared an open fire nearby and she now lit it before leaving Katherine alone with her increasingly strong contractions. She held the beam tightly to keep herself standing as she dealt with each surge of contraction pain. Between contractions, when her brain had a moment for sense, she thought, ‘Thank God this is the summer. It would be freezing out here otherwise.'

By the time Jenny returned with hot water, a blanket and a bundle of cloths, a huge puddle lay at her feet as her waters had broken and run down her legs. When Carolyn was born Katherine had been supine but Jenny indicated she should remain standing and stood behind her, rubbing her back and stomach, actions that comforted her greatly. Katherine obeyed without question. She was no longer in control of her own body; the increasing pains tightened and tightened. She shouted involuntarily and then swore obscenities she didn't even know she knew.

In between the vice-like contractions, each increasing in intensity, she tried to remember to pant-breath-pant, as the nurse had told her when she gave birth to Carolyn. Then another clamping of the vice blotted out rational thought.

Her shouting brought both Karl and Benjamin running to where she stood naked, arms holding on the beam, her face contorted and with Jenny behind her, rubbing her belly. They stopped and stared at the apparition reflected in the glow of the nearby fire, like some medieval witch in the torture chamber. When she saw them there Jenny ran at them, shouting angrily. Although they did not understand her language they, understood the intention and rapidly retreated into the darkness to become invisible. Jenny returned just as the baby's head appeared from between Katherine's now bloodied legs. Katherine gave another involuntary push, driven by the vice. Jenny quickly put her hands out and caught the slippery parcel. As soon as the baby was fully out she encouraged Katherine to lie on the blanket and, once she heard the first cry she cut the umbilical cord. After a short while Katherine started a second round of contractions.

‘Oh! God, not twins. I can't bear it,' She shouted at no-one in particular. The contractions were sharper and Jenny pressed gently on her stomach to expel the afterbirth. Katherine collapsed, totally exhausted, and gratefully closed her eyes. Jenny washed the newborn before placing him on Katherine's chest. Katherine automatically held him, not caring what she looked like, who saw her lying naked on the ground or what was happening around her. What she didn't see was how Jenny carefully collected up all the afterbirth and buried it far from the birthing site. When she opened her eyes, Jenny was crouched between her legs blowing smoke into her stretched vulva.