Opal Dreaming (17 page)

There was a bang on the trailer door. ‘I want everyone to come outside for a talk,' said Lindy's voice.

‘This oughta be good,' grumbled Mrs Arnold.

Jess dragged herself out of bed.

One by one, Lindy brought everyone from their hiding places. Lawson stood with his arms folded, looking surly, and refused to sit down. Mrs Arnold wouldn't leave the doorway of the trailer. ‘I can hear everything from here,' she said obstinately.

Jess rejoined Shara, Rosie and Grace, who sat along a log with blankets wrapped around them. Bob stood quietly in the shadows, Luke took one of the fold-out chairs, Stan and Ryan stood alongside each other, both with arms folded across their chests.

Lindy held up a short thick stick. ‘No one talks unless they hold the stick,' she instructed, then she began a lecture. ‘What is wrong with you mob? You guys are all kin, mostly. You should be pulling together. Someone's done wrong by your family member and you're not banding together. I don't get it.' She held the stick out. ‘Who wants it?'

Everyone stared at it in silence.

She gave it a coaxing wave. ‘User-friendly.'

No one took the stick.

Lindy spoke again. ‘If anyone's to blame for those ringers, it's me – I hired them. They were my staff, my responsibility. I just wish I'd got rid of them quicker.'

Ryan stepped forward and took the stick. ‘I didn't know those blokes well enough. I thought they were okay. I wouldn't have asked you to put them on otherwise.'

Mrs Arnold marched out and grabbed the stick from Ryan. ‘Not my fault one of 'em raided my stash.' She stomped over to Lawson and shoved the stick at him. He refused to unfold his arms, and she poked him with it.

‘Hey!' he said, angrily.

Lindy coughed. ‘Um, that's not really how it's used.'

Mrs Arnold thrust it insistently at Lawson again, and this time he snatched it from her. ‘What do you want me to say?'

Mrs Arnold snatched it back. ‘You can start by apologising,' she snapped.

‘To who?'

‘Don't you speak while I got the stick.'

‘You snatched it off me!'

She thrust it back at him.

‘I don't want it now.'

‘You guys are like children,' said Rosie.

‘You're a disgrace!' Grace jumped up, marched over and held out her hand for the stick. Lawson ripped it from Mrs Arnold's hand and gave it to her.

‘We're not just useless girls, you know,' said Grace. ‘You could've asked us to help with the cattle. Me and Jess and Sharsy and . . . I s'pose even Rosie. We could help Lindy drove the cattle while the men go and look for Marnie. You could take the ute.'

‘Marnie'll be at the saleyards by now,' said Stanley.

‘Oi!' Grace waved the stick at her father to shut him up, then handed it back to Lawson and waited for his response.

‘Marnie's microchipped and branded. I've reported her stolen to the authorities, so she should get picked up if she goes through any saleyards. But the ringers would know that.' He shook his head. ‘I just hope they don't shoot her. She's too nice a horse.'

The camp fell silent. After a while, Jess stepped forward and took the stick from Lawson's dejected grasp. ‘Let us help with the cattle, Lawson. We can do it. You should be off looking for Marnie.'

He held his hands in the air. ‘Looking where?'

‘I don't know, maybe go back to where I saw their truck and follow the tracks?'

Lawson gave Lindy a
what-do-you-think
look.

She nodded. ‘I think it's a good idea. You got some good riders here. They'll be all right if they listen up.'

Lawson looked unconvinced. ‘Fifteen hundred head of cattle to move?'

‘They're very quiet, old cows mostly. I'm sure the girls can handle them.'

Jess could see Lawson turning things over in his head. Finally he gave a sigh of resignation. ‘You're the boss. If you don't mind me taking off. If you're happy to ride with a bunch of kids—'

‘We'll be right,' said Lindy. ‘Won't we, girls?'

Grace jumped up and punched the air. ‘Yeah, baby!'

‘We're going droving,' cried Shara, jumping up and grabbing Jess, Rosie and Grace. The four girls jumped around in a circle.

‘No more stockies' jocks!' Rosie rejoiced.

‘Hang on a minute,' said Mrs Arnold. ‘You can't all go. I still need help to pack up camp. I'm going into town for supplies tomorrow.' She looked at the four girls, who were still hand in hand, jumping for joy. ‘Someone's gotta stay with me.'

The girls all stopped and stared at each other.

‘I'll stay,' Jess volunteered eventually. ‘I wouldn't mind going into town and finding a phone.'

‘Good,' said Mrs Arnold.

‘Right, that's settled then,' said Lindy. ‘Grace, Rosie and Shara can ride with me. You blokes can hunt down those ringers and get Marnie back.'

Bob sidled up to Lawson. ‘Want me to come? Might find some tracks.'

‘That'd be great, Bob,' said Lawson, slapping him on the shoulder and suddenly sounding more positive. ‘We'll take the ute, put the motorbike on the back.'

‘I'll come too,' said Ryan, and the hopeful chatter that filled the camp instantly fell away to uneasy silence.

Lawson took a while to answer; when he did, his tone was cold and unwelcoming. ‘I think you've already done enough.'

‘I want to help get the mare back. I want to find Dave and Clarkey.' Ryan looked at Lawson earnestly. ‘I want to make things right.'

The camp remained silent as a thick slick of tension ran between the two men. The fire snapped and popped and the generator hummed, but no one spoke.

‘You've got an awful lot of stuff to make right, Ryan,' Lawson said eventually.

‘So let me help you. I know some of the places they go, some of the people they associate with.'

Lawson was still cold and quiet.

‘I didn't mean for this to happen, Lawson. I came out here to reconcile with you. I thought these guys were okay. I was wrong.'

When Lawson replied, he was surprisingly controlled. ‘You got to be more careful about who you spend your time with.'

Ryan looked straight at him. ‘Then let me spend time with you.'

22

JESS SCRUBBED THE LAST
of the morning breakfast dishes after eating half a pig, nearly an entire loaf of bread and a mountain of scrambled eggs. Upsetting the cook on a droving run, she had discovered, was a foolhardy thing to do on Lawson's part. Mrs Arnold had locked the entire food supply in a large metal box, stored it under her cot and slept on it all night, refusing to yield to the hungry demands of her fellow campers. By morning Lawson had lost all popularity and the entire camp milled around anxiously waiting for breakfast.

As she watched Shara, Rosie and Grace ride out, Jess wondered how long it would take to get scurvy without a morsel of fresh food. She could hear the cattle crooning loudly as they bustled around, waiting to get out and graze for the day.

‘You got the rough end of the pineapple today, Jess,' said Mrs Arnold, bundling up her cooking gear and packing it into the trailer.

‘At least a pineapple would have a bit of vitamin C,' Jess murmured.

‘What?'

‘Nothing. I don't mind,' said Jess. ‘I really want to ring the station and see how Opal is. I was going to ask Lawson if I could borrow his phone, but he wasn't really in the mood last night.'

‘Oh, I meant to tell you,' said Mrs Arnold from inside the trailer. ‘He rang the station about her.'

Jess rushed to the doorway. ‘What did they say?'

‘Lawson was pretty vague. He just said she was the same, or something like that. Like you say, he wasn't really in the mood for talking. Nor was I for that matter. Sorry I can't tell you any more than that, love.'

Jess's heart lifted a little. At least Opal was still alive. Maybe she was even getting a bit better. She imagined the filly, gleaming in the sunlight, trotting about with the other brumby foals. She set about packing with renewed energy, keen to find a phone as soon as possible and hear every detail of Opal's health, firsthand.

Lawson helped Luke and Ryan load a motorbike onto the back of the ute and tie it down with ropes. Then he jumped in the driver's seat. Bob disappeared into the passenger side of the ute, while Luke and Ryan jumped on the back and stood holding the roll bar.

‘I hope they find Marnie,' said Jess, as she watched them take off down the road, leaving a trail of dust behind them.

‘Don't fancy their chances,' said Mrs Arnold.

Without the other girls, it took a good hour to pack up after everyone. Mrs Arnold made Jess sort out the unholy mess the girls had made in the back of the gooseneck, and to Jess's dismay, this produced a whole new load of dirty washing.

‘We can find a laundromat in town while no one else is looking,' said Mrs Arnold, winking at her.

Jess shook sand and horse hair out of Grace's sleeping bag and rolled it and the others up. She swept out the peak of the trailer and shoved any clean clothes she could find into duffle bags. She bagged up rubbish, rearranged saddles and folded up chairs and camping tables. With the men having taken the ute, they needed to find even more space to pack the swags, horse rugs and all manner of other gear. Finally, when they could barely squeeze in another item, Jess and Mrs Arnold lifted the tailgate of the trailer and latched it closed.

An hour's bumpy drive over the dirt track and another hour up the highway, Mrs Arnold pulled into a large highway truckstop. It had the usual franchised burger joints, souvenir shops and food halls catering for busloads of tourists. Mrs Arnold found a spot towards the back of the huge car park and pulled on the brake. ‘Should be able to get supplies here,' she said.

Jess sat in the passenger seat, hunched over her mobile. She waited impatiently as it struggled and failed to find a network. ‘Useless thing,' she said, tossing it back into her bag. She hopped out and stretched. ‘I'm going to look for a landline.'

‘Try the servo. I'm going to the mini-mart.'

Jess wandered into the cool, air-conditioned servo. It was enormous, set up with several individual shopfronts offering everything a bored and weary traveller could wish for. A newsagent presented racks of books and newspapers before shelves of trinkets, stationery and souvenirs. There were about four different food bars with glass-fronted bain-maries, some with greasy processed food, others with gourmet burgers wrapped in paper and stacked in neat rows.

Jess scanned the various food menus for anything vaguely tempting, wrinkled her nose and decided to get something fresh from the mini-mart. She searched across what seemed like acres of tables and chairs for a public phone, but before she located one, another shopfront caught her eye.

GENUINE QLD OPALS
FINE OPAL JEWELLERY
AND LOOSE STONES

Jess wandered over and peered at the glistening gems through the polished glass. They were all so different. There was a small cluster of whitish stones, shaped and polished to look almost like a clutch of tiny eggs. Another opal was cut to a diamond shape with mostly blues and yellows. She moved her head from side to side and watched the different play of colours in the changing angle of light. Then she noticed another, which was black with streaks of fiery red.

‘Beautiful, aren't they?' A well-groomed man in a shirt and tie smiled charmingly at her, his hands behind his back.

‘I love opals,' said Jess.

‘Come in and have a look.'

Jess knew he was spruiking and she inwardly berated herself for playing straight into his sales pitch. ‘I actually have to make a phone call,' she said, wanting to escape.

‘You can use our phone, if you like,' he said. ‘Come on in.'

‘Okay, just quickly,' she said, following him into the shop.

The man walked behind a counter. ‘We have lots of different styles,' he said. ‘Black opals . . . white opals . . . boulder opals . . .' He began pulling out velvet-covered trays of necklaces and bracelets.

Jess was about to ask him about the promised phone call, when another cabinet caught her attention. ‘I find those ones more interesting,' she said, pointing at a shelf of loose and roughly cut stones on flat sheets of old cardboard in a purposely rustic display.

The man whipped the other trays away and began pulling out individual stones. He picked through various clumps, streaked with blues, whites and greens. ‘The play on this one is quite beautiful,' he said, turning it around in the light.

It was beautiful, but a different piece of rock caught Jess's attention: a jagged grey layer of stone around a solid opal centre, not unlike the one she had found near the trough. ‘What about that one?' she said, pointing at it through the glass.

‘Ah yes, the Yowah nuts,' said the man, pulling the entire tray out. ‘A man brought those in only yesterday. Getting harder to find these days.'

There were only a few pieces, five in total, but the one Jess had already seen nearly made her heart stop. She patted her top jacket pocket. ‘Where is it?' she mumbled to herself. Then she found what she was searching for in the front of her jeans. She pulled it out and opened her fist, revealing an almost identical piece of stone.

She took the piece from the tray and pressed its cut surface against that of the opal she had found by the trough. The halves fused together so perfectly that barely a crack showed where the stone had been split. Jess stared at the man with an open mouth. ‘How weird is that?'

The man's forehead wrinkled into deep furrows. ‘Snap,' he said. ‘How bizarre!'

‘Where did your piece come from?'

‘Yowah – it's the only place in the world where opals form like that,' said the salesman. ‘Where'd you find yours?'