Chapter 13
At first, things are quiet during our visit to Uluru, the massive sandstone monolith. The place is sacred to the people of the land. The tour guide Johnno is particularly passionate on this point.
“If you fuckers try and climb that mountain or take anything from here, then you’re walking to the camp site.”
Kai with the Stupid Backwards Cap rolls his eyes with his whole body. “You wouldn’t let us party on New Year's Eve, and now you won’t let us climb the mountain?”
“Too right I won’t. It’s for your own good.
Firstly, it’s steep and dangerous to climb, and people have fallen and died.
Secondly, that place will curse you if it doesn’t kill you.
I don’t want the bus flipping on me because some stupid Yank took a bloody souvenir.
This has been around for millions of years, but you think a piece of it might look good as a doorstop? Where’s your sense of reverence?”
The already bow-legged man is crouched at the waist as he gives his short monologue.
We drive a long way to get there and intend to walk the track around the base of the mountain.
Afterwards, we are camping within Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park for two nights.
There we’ll join a tribal meeting known as a corroboree.
After that we’re going to the red-rock formations known as “The Olgas”.
The walk is unbelievably hot. Mischa has a very large backpack. He’s also carrying two bottles of water. One of which he pours on himself so his shorts and top cling to his perfect body. All the girls stare at him. Pathetic.
As the walk progresses, the different paces stretch the group into a long line. Some try to walk together but the heat makes some want to speed up and some slow down. William is at the very front. Mischa is behind me for most of it but catches up to me halfway through.
“Hey, about last night...” he begins.
I cut him off. “I could have had a seizure, and my brother would have found us and killed you, moron. I can’t risk this trip going badly again.
I can defend myself by the way. I’m a better fighter than he is, or you, or those fucking idiots last night.
If anyone else did what you did they would have regretted it. ”
“It was wrong of me to grab you like that. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” he says. “How is William?”
“Awful. We had a rough night.”
He reaches for my hand and it brushes his. I flinch and hold my hand like I scorched it on a hot iron.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I was trying to hold your hand,” he says.
“Why?” I frown.
“I wanted... I don’t know... to comfort you.”
So many emotions flash through me. “Please don’t touch me.”
“Sorry.”
“No it’s not you... it’s just not a good idea... please don’t touch me.”
“You want to stop for a snack?” he asks.
“Jesus, I couldn’t eat,” I say. “Although, you could have your way with me for a bloody popsicle. I’d fellate you for an ice-cold drink too. I’m boiling out here.”
He frantically takes off his backpack and rips off the tape around the sides. His bag is a cooler. Inside are berries and fruit, drinks and water. He pushes back a layer of ice to reveal a range of frozen treats.
“I saw you liked strawberries at breakfast so I got some for you.”
The air inside starts to form a cloudy vapor.
“What’s that?” I ask, fanning it with my hand.
“There’s dry ice at the bottom.”
He holds out a punnet of berries and a popsicle.
My jaw drops and I feel my heart melt a little.
Checkmate. He’s won over every piece on the board, even me.
He hands me a huge strawberry with his wicked smile taking over his face.
I sit down with him on the secluded rocky outcrop.
I look at him and consider the fruit. I take a bite out of it.
It’s the most incredible experience. I close my eyes and moan.
I give him the second bite and he takes it enthusiastically.
I take a can of drink and roll it over my neck and feel the chill go down my spine.
When I open my eyes Mischa is watching me. Of course.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He lowers his sunglasses. “So, can I get that fellatio now or...?”
???
At the end of the walk, Billy is lying in the shade.
He’s dehydrated and red, his hat over his face.
I give him one of Mischa’s cold sodas and he inhales it.
Then he flops back down and pours a bottle of water over himself.
I give him a popsicle. He doesn’t ask where it’s from because he’s too hot to care.
He thanks me by doing the peace sign. Seeing him enjoy something unplanned makes me so incredibly happy.
He’s in a good place. I don’t have to worry about him right now.
Mischa offers the rest to the other students. A couple other guys also joke they will suck his dick too. He has officially conquered the whole kingdom.
???
Our campsite is in the park, but it’s still an hour or two by bus. The corroboree is at a historic Aboriginal campsite in the evening. After a meal there’s a bonfire and traditional dancing and music.
Mischa seems to like everything more than the other students.
The old ladies love him. The children adore him.
They all try grab his hand and pull him this way and that.
He’s so touchable. He’s so touchy. Everyone is so happy they get a pat from him.
Pat pat pat. He drips with energy and sweetness and everyone is enthralled.
Johnno seems very comfortable in this environment too. He’s making his way to everyone in the indigenous group and talking with them like they’re old friends.
Hayden has the next four days off. We don’t need Kane either, but he’s here, looking awkward. The thing about bodyguards is they’re mostly not needed, until they are. Billy really can’t cope anymore without at least one around at all times.
An old woman of the tribe makes her way over William and I after lunch the next day.
She’s tiny and bent over and old. William is very polite, and I am very quiet.
She uses a word that’s probably not English that sounds like ‘a-kon-ye’.
Neither of us can understand her accent and so she beckons Johnno.
“Japaljarri!” she calls to him, with his tribal name.
Soon Johnno approaches us and they confer with each other.
“This lovely lady is Madge,” he says. “Well it’s hard to explain. She can’t talk to the translator because he’s married to her daughter and there’s tradition.”
“What does she want?” I ask.
“She’s a healer, and a bloody good one. She can see more than just the body.
She can see spiritual sickness. They’ve been healing in an unbroken chain for fifty-thousand years.
They know what the fuck they’re doing. When my father was crook, she pulled the cancer right out of him.
She got him walking to boot. Anyway, she thinks you have a spiritual thing that might be bothering you. ”
“Me?” William asks.
“Both of you. She can help a little, but you might need more than one visit.”
Without hesitation Billy says, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Johnno asks.
“We actually do have a spiritual thing,” I explain. “We’ll do whatever she asks.”
For the next two hours, Madge works on my spirit under a shady tree and Johnno translates.
She sings and plucks imagined spirits from my body and kneads the knots out of my shoulder and back.
From time to time she blows onto the top of my head through a tunnel in her hands and after a while I start zoning out.
When I zone back in I feel very relaxed and present.
More time has passed than I realize. She says she’s done with me and starts on my brother.
The sun is going down. Johnno pats me on the shoulder. I walk back to camp, taking in the colors of the desert with clear eyes. I’m not preoccupied, or sad, or just treading water in a sea of anxiety. I’m a human existing on Earth and there’s nothing contaminating that experience.
Mischa is sitting on a log in a quiet spot at sunset. I go to him. He’s mildly alarmed, which I find mildly amusing.
“Hi,” he says, and offers me a spritzer.
I take it from him.
“Hi,” I giggle. “You’re alone for once?”
“I’m in a bad mood,” he says. “Ten days playing come-here-go-away and I’m fucking sick of it.”
“You poor thing,” I say “But life has no meaning without someone to torture you. Metaphorically, I mean.”
Mischa frowns. “Are you high right now?”
I shake my head. “I’m just in a good mood for once.”
I squint, and touch the tip of my tongue to my right canine.
“You’re not holding out on me?” he asks.
“No.”
“Or flirting with me?”
“No. Have you ever seen anything as beautiful as this sunset?” I ask.
“Yes. I think you know what I’m going to say.”
I turn to him and smile. “You look beautiful in the golden light too.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You are flirting.”
“Just paying you a compliment.”
He stands and kicks the dirt hard. “THIS IS FUCKING TORTURE!”
Some of the other students at the picnic tables and bonfire turn to see the commotion. Mischa is fuming. I grab his arm and laugh.
“Sorry!” I say, pulling him back down.
“What’s got into you?”
“I just had an old lady massaging me for hours and I can’t remember what my damage is. You should seize the opportunity while it lasts. I’m usually morbidly depressed. I am quite enjoying the feeling of enjoying life.”
Mischa can’t follow. “You... what?”
“I feel less awful than I’ve felt in years. I’m so happy. I want you to feel happy.”
He thinks about it. “Hang out with me then.”
“Okay,” I say.
He looks around. “Not here, I’m sick of being around all the featherweights.”
Mischa takes my hand through the trees, and leads me to a small campfire far away from the others. We sit and he touches the side of my leg with his pinkie finger and it doesn’t bother me. It’s even slightly comforting.