Read Online The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring by Julie Bozza - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Julie Bozza
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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."
"Well, yes," Dave agreed, his gut sinking. It was a fair point. "But I'm concerned that – that we make sure the Dreaming site isn't disturbed. And that the butterflies are safe."
"Yes," said one of the Elders, the one who'd nodded a welcome to Dave when he and Charlie first arrived. Dave didn't know his Indigenous name, but he went by the nickname ‘Thursday'.
"Thank you, Thursday," Dave said. "I guess I just need to know that – if we have to make this official somehow – you'll support Charlie about him knowing the songs."
"No, mate," Charlie protested. "It's you that belongs there."
Dave turned to stare at him. Are you kidding … ? "Mate, no one's gonna take that seriously!"
Charlie put on his most mulish expression, and insisted as he'd insisted before, "Old man grunter chose you." Then he kind of hunkered down inside himself as if withdrawing from all further discussion.
"I'll back you up, mate," Dave said, "but you've got to be the front man, if push comes to shove."
Silence.
Dave sighed, and fell into a ponder of his own. It wasn't that he had any firm plans yet, because he hardly knew what they'd be facing, but his initial sketches were already falling apart.
After a while, though, Thursday said, "You can speak for us, David. You can figure out what has to be done, and you can speak for us."
"I can?" he asked, somewhat flabbergasted.
"When it's time for us to speak, we will."
"Good. That's good. Wow." Dave hunkered down into himself, too, suddenly having a whole lot of rethinking to do. But he didn't neglect to say, "Thank you."
When he and Charlie finally got up to go, it wasn't only Thursday who nodded a farewell.
In town the next day, Dave ran into Ted Walinski as he, Nicholas and Robin were walking back from the shops. Part of Dave wondered if he should just push past the man on the grounds that sometimes discretion really is the better part of valour. Within the moment it took to reach him, though, Dave had decided that it was time to start taking a stand. "Morning," he said, pausing on the pavement in the shade of an awning.
"Morning, Mr Taylor," Walinski replied, stopping likewise, and nodding a genial greeting to them all.
"It's Goring Taylor now," Dave said.
"Right you are."
"Look," said Dave. "What are you up to?"
Walinski took a long cool look at him, and then glanced down at the pavement – almost as if miming a spit – before meeting his gaze
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."
"Well, yes," Dave agreed, his gut sinking. It was a fair point. "But I'm concerned that – that we make sure the Dreaming site isn't disturbed. And that the butterflies are safe."
"Yes," said one of the Elders, the one who'd nodded a welcome to Dave when he and Charlie first arrived. Dave didn't know his Indigenous name, but he went by the nickname ‘Thursday'.
"Thank you, Thursday," Dave said. "I guess I just need to know that – if we have to make this official somehow – you'll support Charlie about him knowing the songs."
"No, mate," Charlie protested. "It's you that belongs there."
Dave turned to stare at him. Are you kidding … ? "Mate, no one's gonna take that seriously!"
Charlie put on his most mulish expression, and insisted as he'd insisted before, "Old man grunter chose you." Then he kind of hunkered down inside himself as if withdrawing from all further discussion.
"I'll back you up, mate," Dave said, "but you've got to be the front man, if push comes to shove."
Silence.
Dave sighed, and fell into a ponder of his own. It wasn't that he had any firm plans yet, because he hardly knew what they'd be facing, but his initial sketches were already falling apart.
After a while, though, Thursday said, "You can speak for us, David. You can figure out what has to be done, and you can speak for us."
"I can?" he asked, somewhat flabbergasted.
"When it's time for us to speak, we will."
"Good. That's good. Wow." Dave hunkered down into himself, too, suddenly having a whole lot of rethinking to do. But he didn't neglect to say, "Thank you."
When he and Charlie finally got up to go, it wasn't only Thursday who nodded a farewell.
In town the next day, Dave ran into Ted Walinski as he, Nicholas and Robin were walking back from the shops. Part of Dave wondered if he should just push past the man on the grounds that sometimes discretion really is the better part of valour. Within the moment it took to reach him, though, Dave had decided that it was time to start taking a stand. "Morning," he said, pausing on the pavement in the shade of an awning.
"Morning, Mr Taylor," Walinski replied, stopping likewise, and nodding a genial greeting to them all.
"It's Goring Taylor now," Dave said.
"Right you are."
"Look," said Dave. "What are you up to?"
Walinski took a long cool look at him, and then glanced down at the pavement – almost as if miming a spit – before meeting his gaze
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