The Bunyip Collection

Chapter 5

Tristram slept lightly, in a state between dreaming and awake. He was aware of his cousins breathing near him, the insects outside and the moonlight shining through the tent. He was warm and snug…

He sits by the pool in the moonlight and listens to the babbling stream. It is a warm summer night. The humidity carries sweet pollens and eucalyptus scents, whilst gentle heat emanates from the limestone rocks about him. He runs his hand over the rough texture of the rock and the dry feathery lichens. He dangles his feet in the warm water. The elegant white trunks of the mountain ash, the tallest eucalypts in the world, are brightly reflected in the pool. There is just the faintest breeze, and the long emerald gum leaves rustle gently in the surrounding forest canopy. Tristram smiles. This is a beautiful place.

He sits by the pool in the moonlight and listens to the babbling stream. It is a warm summer night. The humidity carries sweet pollens and eucalyptus scents, whilst gentle heat emanates from the limestone rocks about him. He runs his hand over the rough texture of the rock and the dry feathery lichens. He dangles his feet in the warm water. The elegant white trunks of the mountain ash, the tallest eucalypts in the world, are brightly reflected in the pool. There is just the faintest breeze, and the long emerald gum leaves rustle gently in the surrounding forest canopy. Tristram smiles. This is a beautiful place.He gazes up at the full moon as billions have done before and feels at peace. Suddenly he hears the laughter of children. He looks about the pool and thinks he glimpses their shadows running on the rocks on the other side of the pool. They squeal and call to each other. They began to sing a nasal, happy song.

He gazes up at the full moon as billions have done before and feels at peace. Suddenly he hears the laughter of children. He looks about the pool and thinks he glimpses their shadows running on the rocks on the other side of the pool. They squeal and call to each other. They began to sing a nasal, happy song.Where are they? He sees a shadow of a child dancing out of the corner of his eye, but when he turns his head it becomes the shadow of a wattle tree.

Where are they? He sees a shadow of a child dancing out of the corner of his eye, but when he turns his head it becomes the shadow of a wattle tree.Not a ripple breaks the surface of the pool. He looks at the perfect reflection of the stars…and two particularly bright stars catch his eye. He looks for them in the sky above, but they are not there. When he looks back into the pool the stars are bigger, like a pair of shining silver coins. They are getting closer, rising slowly up towards him. The children continue to sing.

Not a ripple breaks the surface of the pool. He looks at the perfect reflection of the stars…and two particularly bright stars catch his eye. He looks for them in the sky above, but they are not there. When he looks back into the pool the stars are bigger, like a pair of shining silver coins. They are getting closer, rising slowly up towards him. The children continue to sing.Tristram smiles in wonder as he realises that they were eyes – he is looking at the eye-shine of some animal. Now, they are about the size of headlights. What is this creature looking up at him from under the water? He stares into those bright white eyes amongst the reflected stars, and tries to fathom the presence behind them…

Tristram smiles in wonder as he realises that they were eyes – he is looking at the eye-shine of some animal. Now, they are about the size of headlights. What is this creature looking up at him from under the water? He stares into those bright white eyes amongst the reflected stars, and tries to fathom the presence behind themSomething was shaking him in the tent.

“Tristram, you awake?” Pyran whispered.

“Yes.”

“Warrick’s completely out of it. Ya can hear ‘im snoring.”

Tristram listened.

“Yeah…”

“Well? What do you reckon? Shall we sneak out and take a look at the opal?”

“Alright.”

They slithered out of their sleeping bags and through the tent flaps like snakes from a washing basket. The chill outside was an unsettling contrast with the balmy night of Tristram’s dream.

“It’s freezin’, eh?” Pyran whispered. “Let’s go over to the fire.”

They put some wood on the dying embers and huddled close to the warmth.

“Pretty bright night, eh?” Pyran continued. “I reckon I can see just as much now as I can in daylight.”

“Yeah…” Tristram answered, rubbing his arms.

“Well?” Pyran prodded. “Where is it?”

“It’s right here.”

The opal was ebullient in the moonlight. The boys stared.

“Are you looking at a red, Pyran?”

“Nup. I was gonna wait for you to pick a colour out, so we could look together, eh?”

“Alright…” Tristram hesitated and then looked at his cousin.

“What?” Asked Pyran.

“Do you reckon we should do this now? Wouldn’t it be better in the daylight?” Tristram looked with some apprehension into the dark shadows of the surrounding bush.

Pyran considered it.

“Why? You scared or something?”

“No way…are you?”

“Of course, not…but then… we don’t really know what we’ll see, eh?”

“Right.”

They stood staring at each other. To face either fear or ridicule – the greatest dilemma for young boys.

Suddenly Pyran smiled.

“Tell ya what. I dare ya.”

“You dare me?”

“Yeah. I dare you, and you dare me.”

“OK…I dare you.”

“Righto then, you’re on. Let’s do it.”

Shaking with excitement they sat down together with the opal on the dust between them.

“Which colour?” Pyran asked.

“Let me just look…”

To their surprise, a large, rusty red fragment seemed to roll into view from the centre of the opal. The azure colour phased into sapphire. They exchanged a fearful look.

“I reckon that’s our colour, Tristram.”

“Yeah…spooky how it just appeared like that.”

“Want to give it a miss?”

Tristram thought hard about it, but in the end, curiosity had the better of him. Besides, Pyran was with him and he felt safe by the fire.

“No.” He said finally. “Let’s look at it. It’s only a memory. We’ll count to three and then look, OK?”

Pyran took a deep breath. “OK.”

“One…two…three…”

For an instant Tristram thought that a sudden breeze had blown hot ash into his face from the fire, but then he realised that it was only sand. Red sand. He was in a desert, looking at a dawn sky with the richest rose and cerulean hues. There was not a cloud in sight. A still chill lay upon the desert, but he knew that soon a great heat would engulf the landscape.

He was anxious, and he had a headache.

His left leg bent at an unnatural angle, but he was well accustomed to it as he hobbled along in his loin cloth, with his koala skin dilly bag over his shoulder.

Finally, as he descended a sand dune, he found what he was searching for. A fresh dingo kill. It was a large female kangaroo, with short woolly fur that had a pleasant blue tinge. An elegant creature in a ghastly state – throat torn, belly ripped open, blood upon the sand. He had a hard time seeing the dingoes off her.

He put his hand into the bloody mass of kangaroo and felt eagerly through the unctuous viscera.

Good, the heart is intact.

Good the heart is intactGently he pulled it free from the animal, tearing it out with its major blood vessels attached. He severed the arterial vessels and veins from the heart with his teeth and spat them contemptuously on the sand. He then reached into his dilly bag, and pulled out some ti-tree, five yellowed wombat incisors, a moist snakeskin and…the opal. With a nasal spell he tossed all but the heart and opal over the kangaroo corpse. In his left hand he held the heart, in his right, the opal. He turned his face to the heavens with his arms reaching high above him. His aspect was defiant, not supplicating.

the opalThe heart was still warm, but it was not beating.

He held the heart gently and concentrated. The opal was deeply chilled – as it always was in his hand. He let the chill run down his arm into his chest. There it mingled with the heat of his own heart, and it pained him. He breathed sharply. He had a fight on his hands…

He must get rid of the cold…

The sun began to rise and he knew this would help him. The heat in his chest overcame the chill of the opal, and he concentrated on sending that heat up his left arm and into the heart…

It was working. The heart began to beat.

It was a giddy thrill as it pulsed in his hand.

Suddenly the kangaroo twitched violently. It let out a terrified screech, and its eyes opened wide in panic.

“Tell me what the dream meant.” It was not English that Tristram was speaking, but a nasal, rounded language. His voice was guttural and metallic.

The animal writhed in agony and squealed. The sunlight glistened in a rancid vapour that rose from the fur and the exposed bowels. Tristram understood that the kangaroo was pleading for the unnatural torture to stop. Blood spurted afresh from the reanimated corpse and nervous reflexes caused the animal to kick red sand violently into the air. Yellow and green intestines fell loosely out and collected the sand. A terrible life force struggled anew in matter that had accepted death. The heart in his hand pounded at an alarming rate.

“TELL ME WHAT THE DREAM MEANT!”

The kangaroo continued its awful wailing…and then suddenly Tristram heard a voice cry out. It was the very voice of life, as it cries at birth and sighs at the instant of death.

The kangaroo suddenly ceased all movement. Its eyes closed. Tristram moved in for a closer look. He prodded the animal gently, but it did not react. The heart was beating slower and slower…

He whispered, “Tell me what the dream meant.”

Tell me what the dream meantTense seconds rolled by whilst the animal did not stir. Then suddenly the head twitched horribly and faced Tristram. The eyes were wide, showing the whites. It screamed in mortal rage.

“BEWARE OF THIEVES!”

Pyran and Tristram yelped in fright. They were sitting beside the fire again, breathing rapidly and staring at each other in horror.

“What the hell was that?!” Wailed Pyran.

“Shhh! I don’t know!” Tristram whispered.

“Oh God, that was awful! I think I’m gonna be sick. I can’t believe what I just did!”

“It wasn’t you. It was the witch doctor. Calm down or you’ll wake our parents.”

“Tristram…Tristram, I never want to look at that opal again…”

They sat in a nauseated anxiety for a few minutes, before Tristram’s horror at the memory was replaced by a desire to comfort his cousin.

“Pyran…it was terrible, but it was just a memory. A very old memory. My other granddad said that he has been dead for years. So, relax…it can’t hurt you.”

old“Yeah…you’re right. I reckon I’m startin’ to settle down…God…”

They sat in nervous silence for a while, as each boy’s mind raced to calm the fear that hurtled through him. Tristram made a silent prayer to Jehovah. Gradually their panic diminished.

Finally, Tristram said “You know what I think we should do?”

“What?”

Tristram looked deep into Pyran’s green eyes, which were wet with fear and reflected the coals.

“We should look at another colour. A happy colour.”

Pyran considered this.

“What if the opal tricks us?”

“It doesn’t do that.”

Pyran hesitated before giving a tentative nod.

“Alright…”

“On the count of three, let’s look at this purplish colour right here.”

“OK.”

They braced themselves and took a deep breath.

“One…two…three…”

It was a warm starry evening and she wore a rich purple dress of a material that was a delight to touch. It was soft and just a little loose on her body. Her dark, chocolate hair was fine with a gentle wave, and it fell gracefully about her shoulders and slender neck. Tristram noticed her perfume next…a faint trace of frangipani that permeated the humidity, barely detectable over the fragrance of the gardenias nearby. The garden was simple, yet elegant – a temperate approximation of an English cottage garden…a thunderstorm rumbled in the distance, and Tristram was invigorated by the moisture and electricity in the air…

She was curvaceous and a little taller than average, with a build that suggested an active life. White, ample cleavage rose and fell rapidly. The rest of her skin was tanned and almost flawless – she had a light freckling on her forearms and nose. Her face was strong yet feminine. Large, intelligent hazel eyes sparkled vividly. Sensual lips softened a determined chin. There was a rosy glow of distress about her brown face which contrasted with her usual cool. She was a woman with a formidable balance of fire and intellect. Tristram was absolutely attracted to her.

He was tall and strong himself, and a powerful heart pounded in his chest.

She moved closer, her pupils dilated in the dark. Tristram watched her transform her anxiety into righteous anger.

“You’re a terrible man.”

Her voice had a mellow femininity that softened her rebuke. She spoke with a mellifluous accent that was English, tempered with Scottish undertones.

Tristram could not take his eyes from hers – they were a wide window into a soul that ignited his temper, challenged his intellect and gave vivid colours to his dreams.

“I know I am late, and I am dreadfully sorry. Please don’t stay angry with me. I have a wonderful excuse.”

Tristram’s voice was a light, pleasant tenor.

“Oh?”

“Do you believe in magic, Valeria?”

She gave an incredulous laugh. “No, Michael.”

“No? Just like that, you say no?” Tristram chided.

“No. I don’t believe in magic.” Valeria affirmed, hands on hips.

“How can a good Christian woman like you, who believes in the miraculous powers of God, not believe in something lesser like magic?”

Valeria sighed, and her anger melted into a warm smile that sent him soaring.

“I have something for you.” Tristram whispered.

“Yes?”

Tristram reached into the breast pocket of his satin vest and pulled out the opal. Valeria gasped.

“This is a very special jewel, Valeria MacAllister. If it is lost, it will find its way back to you. If it is taken from me, and I die, it will come back to my family line. That is what the old Chinese man told me tonight.”

“Who is this old Chinese man?”

“He has never told me his name. He says that a name is like a strong rope about the soul, and that he will have none of it.”

“How very absurd.”

“Yes, perhaps.”

“What do you call him?”

Tristram laughed warmly as he answered. “I call him Uncle.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Valeria…this opal has a magic that I don’t understand.” Tristram continued earnestly.

He took her hand and placed the jewel in her palm and held it there.

“Look closely at one of the colours, Valeria. Look at the light blue fragment in the centre with me…”

Valeria gasped and trembled as sensations flooded into her from the opal.

“Our first picnic!” She cried. “When you fell into the river trying to retrieve my hat…you were so good natured, even though I laughed at you mercilessly…”

“It is the first of the best memories of my life…”

“Michael…It was as if I was actually there…but I was seeing it through your eyes!”

there“I told you that it was magical. It came from the opalised fossil of an ancient creature that no naturalist has described before. Uncle’s family were gold miners and they unearthed it in the red desert country. Uncle said that a debt to the spirits could be paid with something sleeping in its bones.”

Tristram gazed into Valeria’s eyes, expecting to see her usual, cool incredulity. However, her eyes were wide in wonder.

“Go on.” She whispered eagerly.

“Uncle carved this opal out himself. He said that it fell from the skull like a tear into his hand. And then, in the strangest twist of this tale, he gave it to me after we had been friends for a few years. I rode to see him tonight. It is a long journey to his house and my horse is quite indignant with me.”

“Vernon is like that, even on short rides.” Valeria grinned.

“I made the trip so that I could ask him if I could give this opal away to my beloved…it seemed the proper thing to do, somehow. He laughed when I asked him and said that while the opal cannot be taken away, it can certainly be given away.”

given“Michael, you’re not giving this to me?” Valeria was astonished and moved. “No, Michael. It’s too much!”

“Please accept it. You have my heart in your hands, Valeria, and no one can steal it from you. It will always find its way back to your line…”

Valeria trembled and put a gentle hand on his chest, then up the side of his neck and caressed his face. All the while she stared into his eyes with a peculiar coalescence of bliss and sadness. He kissed her hand and then they embraced. He smelt her hair and relished the feel of her body as she held him tight. They kissed and to Tristram’s wonder, who was at an age when girls were the enemy; he was not repulsed by the kiss. Instead he was aroused. A wild and strange desire possessed him entirely. It was absolutely animal. Tristram did not understand it all; it was as though he wanted to devour her and embrace her all at once, and that it would excite her if he did so. Their kissing became deeper and gratuitous. Their hands moved over each other’s bodies in gentle, sensuous caresses. Their breathing changed, becoming deeper and more rapid. Suddenly Valeria groaned and kissed his neck with a carnal indulgence. Her warm, moist kisses sent tingles of delight across every inch of his skin. She then began to unbutton his shirt. Tristram ran his hand smoothly from the back of Valeria’s neck in spiralling caresses towards the back of her thigh. Then he slid his hand under her dress. His fingers massaged their way up the back of her thigh, over her round buttock, up the small of her back, then around her ribs to the front of her body. Finally, he fondled her plump breasts. He kissed his way slowly across her face, then down her neck, then across her collarbone, then down her chest until he had her erect n****e between his lips. He rolled his tongue gently and rapidly around the areola, massaging her bosom with his lips. Valeria shuddered and sighed. She began to gently bite Tristram’s neck.

Tristram was lost in sensation, and a wondrous change occurred in his perception. He became two people at once, both in an intense euphoria…

Suddenly a savage, tumultuous cry shattered the moment, and the boys were brought back instantly to the fireside.

“Whoa! Was that from the opal or the bush?” Asked Pyran.

There was another tortured roar from the dense shadows of the surrounding forest. It shred the night air.

“Was that a man or an animal?” Whispered Tristram.

“I dunno…but I reckon we should get back into our tent. Right now!”

There were no more cries as they scurried back into their tents and into their sleeping bags.

Neither boy said anything to the other as they both lay awake, their minds a whirl of thought. Of everything they had experienced that night, they reflected little on the cruel witch doctor and his ungodly torture of the kangaroo. Neither were they apprehensive about the clamorous, woeful cries that they had just heard from the bush. What haunted them most was the carnal, electric craving that pulsed in their veins as they relived the passionate moment with the exquisite Valeria MacAllister.