Lost Girls (12 page)

She looked at
Mark, he was watching her finish her ice cream, his own long gone.
He had a lascivious look on his face. “By God it is hot. Looking at
you makes me even hotter,” he said. Standing he walked over,
scooped her up with his arms and stepped into the pool.

She laughed in
delight as the cool water doused all of her. The water was chest
deep, and the cool water made her nipples erect under her thin
shirt, showing them in perfect outline in a watery silhouette.

She slowly
unbuttoned her top, exposing her breasts. “I think you have been
trying to look at these so I thought I would give you a full
view.”

Now his mouth
was on one and his hands pulling her pants down. She wrapped her
legs around him and he pushed into her.
God it felt
good
.

He carried her
to the bank and laid her on the baking hot ground. She felt
prickles and sharp stones prick the skin on her back and bottom. It
aroused her even more, like multiple love bites, exquisite in its
pain.

She flicked her
body and rolled him over. Now it was his back in the dirt and
prickles. She pinned him to the ground as she worked herself back
onto him, laughing as he squirmed with discomfort. She could feel
herself coming with the wildness of it. As she began to lose
control he rolled again and pushed her underneath, laughing at his
ascendancy. Now they both came in a great rush.

As she felt
herself come down off the mountain she stroked his head and hugged
him to herself. “Thank you, I have had some wild bonks over my life
but I think this one under the baking desert sun with prickles in
my back and bottom will take some beating.”

He gently
kissed her on the lips and said “Me too.”

After a few
minutes more of swimming and playing he asked her if she was ready
to head on. She nodded; she would have been happy to spend a lazy
afternoon with him here but was game for whatever came next.

As they drove
on the air shimmered with heat haze. They came around a corner in
the road. A huge expanse of white glittered before them, running
away endlessly into the horizon. “That is the start of Lake Eyre,”
he said. Now the surface is hot enough to cook an egg. It would
kill us in half an hour if we tried to walk over it. So now we will
just drive past and look at it. Tonight, when the moon is full, if
you are brave enough, we will walk on it.

As they drove
through the full midday heat their world took on a surreal feel.
Even though the air conditioning was working well in their four
wheel drive nothing could remove the heat blasting through the
glass of the windows and shimmering of the salt lake and sand
hills. Elin felt she had entered a trance as the relentless heat
mirage blasted into her. Mark had his eyes gritted with the strain
of the sun-glare.

Finally they
sighted buildings in the distance and came into a small town. No
one was in sight so they pulled up outside a sign which read Marree
Hotel. The cabin thermometer in their Toyota read 49 degrees. They
walked through the swing doors into a dark interior which felt so
restful after the glare. There were more than a dozen people at the
bar and a blast of cool air washed over them as they came close.
The bar tender said. “Howdy MB, bit of a bloody hot day for driving
across this God forsaken country. Do you want to introduce me to
your lovely passenger?”

Elin said,
“Hello I am Eli, does this man usually bring his visitors to such
desolate places.

The bartender
replied. “Well you are a rare one. Not many have the stamina to
travel on a day like this. Hottest day so far this year. Over fifty
degrees out there in the sun and even in the shade of the verandah
it is 48 degrees. No wonder you look like you need a drink.”

They stayed for
two hours, slowly sipping drinks as they felt the fluid ooze back
into their pores. At first they drank lemon lime and bitters and
then, as their hydration returned, they shifted to beer.

When the clock
passed five in the afternoon Mark stood up and said, “Well that
will do me for the day. Got a mile to make.”

It was still
baking outside but, with the sun low in the sky, the ferocious
glare was gone. They drove on, following the signs for Birdsville,
out of town. Now the sun was behind them, lighting up the desert
scrub in a range of colour tones; golds, oranges, olives and
browns. As they drove they slowly veered from heading east to
north. An hour further on they approached a turnoff to the
left.

Mark looked at
Elin and asked, “Are you game for a full moon walk out on the lake?
While it looks solid on top of the salt crust, underneath parts are
like jelly. It can be real scary if you fall through, like
quicksand only worse. But it is also beautiful for those with the
courage to dare.”

Elin looked at
him and laughed. “If you are brave I am too. Plus I am with a true
outback bushman. I trust him to know what to do.”

Mark grinned,
self deprecating. “Out here there are no certainties, even for
bushies like me. It is a game of Russian roulette. Mostly fortune
favours the brave. Sometimes even the brave loose.”

“That sounds
like my Viking ancestors throughout their long and chequered
history, whether discovering new worlds or hunting whales. Whoever
got it wrong died, such was their warrior way.”

The sun was a
hand’s breadth above the horizon as they came to where the track
ended at the edge of the lake. From their elevated position in the
sand hills the surface still shimmered in heat haze but is was
turning into something else, a rainbow surface, as the full range
of colours of the rainbow refracted off the surface crystals in the
late afternoon light.

Elin looked out
and said, “Wow, it is like Antarctica when the light hits the ice
sheets, so barren and yet full of an eerie and remote beauty that
it takes your breath away.”

Mark unpacked a
box from the back of his truck, it was an ordinary looking tin box
and inside were things to make a meal, a frying pan, a billy can,
along with some metal plates and cups and some tins of food.

The heat was
still beyond hot on the sand but there was something restful in the
view. Mark pulled out a square glass bottle of brown liquid. He
poured an inch into two tin mugs then added water from a canvass
bag tied to the back of the cabin. He passed one to Elin and said,
“To your health and a good trip to nowhere.”

She raised and
clinked her mug to his, “Nowhere beats any other anywhere right
now.”

She did not
know why but she felt more content than she could ever remember,
sitting here in a desert place with this man she had only met this
morning, his soul met with hers in a place of dangerous emptiness.
In the centre of this dangerous emptiness lay a powerful bond of
empathy between them. Moved by affection she slid her bottom across
the hot sand, coming close alongside him. She put her arm around
his body then snuggled against him and lay her head on his
shoulder.

“Thank you for
bringing me here,” she said.

He did not
reply but ran his fingers through her hair and stroked her head.
They sat that way, almost unmoving, until the sun orb fell below
the lake and the light had faded to a deep red in the far western
sky.

Now Mark stood
up. He gathered scattered pieces of dead wood from the surrounded
scrub, formed them into a pile, inserted some dry grass and struck
a match. The grass flared and burned brightly. Soon the wood was
burning fiercely, throwing sparks and bright splashes into the
night sky. Mark found a packet of sausages in a cooler box, chopped
an onion and fried the mixture in a pan, before adding a tin of
tomatoes. It was simple fare but tasted sumptuous after a long day
of travelling.

They sat side
by side, each eating with their own knife and spoon from the pan.
When it was just juices left he passed her a slice of bread. Each
wiped up and ate the remnants until only an empty pan remained. He
wiped the pan out with a damp piece of paper towel which he tossed
in the fire before returning the pan to its box, along with the
other meal things, saying, “Out in this place water is very
precious. So I don’t waste it on washing unless I can refill the
water tank. You never know when you might need it. One would be
dead inside a day, on a day as hot as today, out here, without
water.”

She nodded, it
made sense.

He said, “Ready
for a moonwalk on the lake?”

She looked
behind her; the moon had just crested the horizon, it was a day
after full moon, but still made an almost perfect circle. In her
mind Elin was taken to other places of moonlight, nights in the
Arctic winter when there was no sun, where a full moon made its way
across the dark sky bathing the whole world in silver which gained
an overpowering intensity when seen reflected off a snowy
landscape. Then it was so cold that every part of her was covered,
here warm air played off her skin as it gently wafted in the
night.

Mark found a
coil of light, strong rope, the sort that climbers use, along with
two webbing harnesses. He put one harness on and passed the other
to Elin. She put it on following his lead. Then he clipped one end
of the rope to her harness and, about half way along, tied a loop
in the rope which he clipped to his waist. He looped up the
remainder of the rope which he also clipped to his harness. He took
a big water bottle and also clipped it to his harness.

Then he picked
up a small tightly rolled canvass bundle. “I thought we might sleep
out there tonight, in a place where our whole horizon is only flat
salt. We will have to walk for an hour to get that far out.”

He passed her a
hard plastic foam object, like a piece cut from a surfboard, about
50 mms thick and half a metre across, with a hand sized hole cut
into one side. “This is for you. If you suddenly fall through the
crust, put this flat on the unbroken salt next to your body and
fold your upper body to rest on it. It should be enough to hold
your weight and stop you sinking down into the mud. Equally, if I
fall through, stop and put it on the ground where you are, sit down
on it and stay there until we work out how to get out.

As you are a
lot lighter than me it is probably better if you go first. Try to
avoid places where the surface is a funny colour or looks
different. If you feel the ground wobble, stop and walk backwards
gently until you are half way back to me before you try a different
direction.”

Elin nodded,
she could feel the nervous energy course through her, filling her
with a sense of intense concentration and excited anticipation.

They headed
out. Twice in the first five minutes, she felt the ground move a
bit. Each time she backed up, as instructed, and took a quarter
turn to take a new direction. Then the going became good and she
fell into a routine, walking along carefully and steadily as she
surveyed her route.

They went on
that way for around half an hour. The moonlight bathed the surface
in a sparkling glow of iridescent colours, innumerable tiny salt
crystals each reflecting their own tiny point of starlike light.
Erin felt as in a trance, captivated by fairy light beauty.

Without
becoming aware her attention drifted from the close watching
required. In an instant the world collapsed underneath her, sucking
her down into bottomless liquid mud. The mud rose above her waist.
It was midway up her chest before she mustered the presence of mind
to put her plastic support into place. She felt fear washing
through her. She tipped her upper body towards the float and rested
her arms on it. She tried to raise her body slightly but the
suction was formidable and she could feel the ground under the
float wobble.

She looked over
at Mark. He had sat down on the ground, body spread out, his back
resting on his bed roll, and was now pulling in the couple metres
of loose rope between them. She guessed he was about eight metres
away. He was looking at her intently, gauging her courage and
resolution to deal with this situation. He raised his eyebrow as if
to say.
Well, what now?

She knew it was
a test. She could ask him to come and rescue her and, no doubt, he
would.

But she did not
want this; she must think on her own and see if there was some way
for her to improve her situation and, maybe, get out.

She slowly
turned her head and surveyed the salt surface which receded from
her in all directions. Now she could see her error. A seam of
darker colour about a metre wide ran through the salt. It was like
the meandering course of a river. She had fallen through two thirds
of the way across this dark seam. Her plastic support was resting
on the same unsafe surface directly behind her, its edge just
tipping the harder surface.

She decided
that she needed to move her support to the more solid ground, which
lay closer directly in front of her, and see if it gave a solid
enough surface to try and lift her body onto. Millimetre by
millimetre she slid the foam piece across the wobbling surface,
slowly rotating her body to stay over it. She was half way round
when the ground gave a major wobble. Her heart skipped a beat but
she calmed herself. She realised she had sunk another inch or two
into the slime. The rope to Mark was now pulled tight, with him
taking the strain. She was determined not to give up now and ask
him for help. So she steeled her mind to continue.

Slowly she
resumed the sliding movement. Now she was three quarters of the way
to getting her float to where she wanted it, her float corner was
almost to the edge of solid ground. She squeezed all other thought
out of her mind and focused on her task, now the float was ten
centimetres onto the harder surface, then twenty, then at last it
sat fully on it. She brought it fully in front of her and surveyed
her situation.