Sunlit Shadow Dance (3 page)

It was like
his second statement roused her to life. Quickly she withdrew her
hand, glanced at her children to check they were OK and then
replied, “Jane, I am pleased to meet you Vic.”

Now she turned
to the other children were gathered around and spoke to them. “So
today is cattle mustering day and you are all here, watching. Would
you like me to come over to the yard for a little while and watch
with you, before I take my children for a bath?”

“
Yes Miss Bennet, come and watch,” they all chanted in sing
song voices.

So she walked
towards the rails at the edge of the yards, taking care now to keep
her two children in hand. The other children all gathered round
her, chattering excitedly, half to her, half to each other.

Vic walked
along, a couple steps to the side, not really part of the invited
group but there anyway, wanting to talk to her, wanting to ask
questions but not knowing how to begin.

As she came
close to the yards she looked indecisive. Her face seemed to say
that holding the two toddlers up to look, together, was going to be
difficult. Perhaps she was looking to find one of the older
children to come and pick one of her toddlers up, but they had all
deserted her for the top rail and a better view.

Vic saw this
was his chance. “You look like you have your arms full with two.
How about I lift one up to give a view and then you will only have
one to worry about.”

She nodded; a
grateful half smile.

He picked up
the closest, a boy, who looked at him with a curious and slightly
cheeky grin. As he looked at Vic with the smile crinkling at the
edges of his eyes, there was something that was so like Mark that
Vic felt a jolt pass through him. It was as if he had just been
taken back in time to when Mark was barely more than a baby and he
had just seen him for the first ever time, a time more than twenty
years before he had ever met him as a grown man. That look held
something distinctive, as if this small boy had later became the
man he had known. It was a look-smile which screamed out his past
friend’s name. Almost involuntarily he spoke. “God you look like
Mark”

The kid stared
back, uncertain now, as if he may begin to cry. Vic realized that
this Jane person was staring at him intently.

Now he felt
awkward. He shrugged an apology. “Sorry, your boy looks really like
someone I once knew, the similarity startled me. I hope I didn’t
frighten him.”

Before she
could reply he hoisted the boy onto his shoulders, bringing his
head was to the same level as the other children on the top rail
and giving a full view of the yard. From here the kid chortled with
delight and patted his small hands on Vic’s head.

Now this Jane
person smiled again at him, almost a full and genuine smile this
time, then she also turned back to look at the cattle.

Vic found
himself tongue tied, it was hard to think of anything useful to
say. Making polite conversation seemed inadequate. So he stood
beside her, drinking in this person’s presence, like the scent of a
long lost fragrance. He thought he knew her, the age fitted, the
looks fitted, the kids fitted, even the mannerisms and voice sort
of fitted. She must know him. He could not shake this huge
conviction that it really was her.

But yet she
did not seem to know him at all, not even the name of Mark had
triggered any recognition. He did not think she was trying to hide
it; there was no trace of anything evasive like that. Yet she
looked at him like he was a total stranger she had only first met a
bare five minutes ago.

They stayed
like that for five or ten minutes, not talking, just watching the
action unfold as cattle were drafted this way and that. Soon the
yard nearest them was filled with cows bellowing to be re-united to
recently separated calves. Vic found himself transfixed by unspoken
communication with a little person who sat behind his head, a small
boy who was captivated by the scene before him and who expressed
his enthusiasm with whoops, pats on his head and kicks of his
little feet.

For a minute
he forgot about the woman beside him as her shared this child’s
infectious delight. Then he realized that this woman had laid her
hand on his forearm and was talking to him.

“
I am sorry; I will have to head away now. I have to bathe my
children early. I have promised the others to help set up the
barbeque. So, if you don’t mind, I will have to retrieve him from
you now,” she said pointing to the child on his
shoulders.

Vic grinned,
“Of course, let me carry him along for you as you walk home for a
little way. I think he is enjoying the ride up there.”

Now the lady
gave him a genuine smile. “I think you are right about that. Well
if you don’t mind, I live about 300 yards down there, behind the
shop. Your place for the night is half way there. I will point it
out when we get to it. So why don’t you walk along with me, until
then. After that I will take them both on home from there.”

They walked
along, side by side, kicking little clouds of dust in the dirt
street as they walked. Vic asked politely. “What are your
children’s names?”

“
Oh,” she said, apologetically “they are David and Anne. Sorry
I should have introduced them as well.”

All too soon
they reached the front of the bunk house where Vic was staying. She
reached for David as Vic handed him down.

David shook
his head as Vic went to hand him back, “No, not go,” he said. He
grabbed onto Vic’s arm tightly and tried to stay with him.

Jane raised
her eyes and said, “Well that is unusual, he will almost never let
a strange man pick him up. Yet here he is, him not wanting to come
back to me. That really is a change. He must like you.”

“
Just the view,” said Vic, patting his head with a deprecating
smile.

Turning to the
boy he said, “Well you can ride up there anytime you like. If you
want to get a really good view, get your mother to bring you for a
ride in my helicopter.”

She laughed in
return, “I think he has to grow up a bit before then.”

Vic responded,
“I was inviting you too, along with little Annie.”

She replied
seriously, seeming to let the humour pass her by. “Well thank you.
Not today; perhaps another time. I have things to do now.”

With that she
walked off down the street with her two children toddling beside
her, each holding a hand.

He watched,
unmoving, as she went all the way until where the road turned a
corner and she disappeared out of sight. As she passed from view
she turned back to smile at him, giving him a little wave, before
she vanished.

Vic fought
down an overwhelming urge to run after her, to call out the name,
“Susan” and see if she turned back.

But he could
not do that, she surely would not have ignored him if she already
knew him. If she had recognized him when they first met she would
have come running, with a bright smile on her face, flung herself
at him and hugged herself to him. He knew that was how his Susan
was.

So who was
she? Was she the wife of another man who lived here and who just
happened to be a dead ringer for Susan? Was she just a lookalike
who Vic had imagined was Susan in his desperation to find her? Or
was she the real Susan, with all her memories and former life
turned to dust? Could she just be a mirage that he had imagined out
of nothing in his mind, one like those seen far out on the black
soil plains and, once he came to where he had first seen her, she
would vanish into the air and never be seen again.

He found
himself unwilling to move from this place, lest he break the spell,
lest he find out it was only a mind dream of a person who no longer
walked on solid ground. He felt great dread she had returned to the
crocodile spirits so now just a faint essence of her still walked
in the world of people. He could not bear it to be so, but he felt
no other certainty in his mind.

He could not
ask her who she was, he could not tear at broken memory strings,
but he must find out about her. Tonight at the barbeque he would
try and discover, from others, who she was.

It was still
too early to go inside so her turned and walked back to his
helicopter. He had a photo of the real Susan in his briefcase. He
would get that out and look at it and see if there were any
tell-tale clues that either linked her, this Jane, to that picture
or made it clear she was someone else.

As he came
back to the yards the manager, Rick, was there, standing near his
helicopter, with some papers to sign, receipts for fuel used. In
Vic’s captivation he had almost forgotten about his regular
business, now it came back to mind. He wrote out an invoice for
five hours of wet hire for mustering and two hours for ferrying,
with the fuel taken from here deducted. They both countersigned and
the bill payment was promised within two weeks.

Then he asked
Rick, “Who is that lass with the dark hair and the two small
children, she was here at the yards for a bit.”

“
Oh, that’s Jane,” Rick replied. “She is an odd fish, isn’t
she? She is the bookkeeper at the shop. She has worked her for
around a year and a half now. She doesn’t seem to have any other
family or friends from outside, she just keeps to herself, apart
from going to church and singing in the choir. She is a looker and
a few blokes around here fancied to try it on with her. But she
never took any notice, she never seems properly interested in
anything or anyone but her two little kids and maybe God. All the
rest of the world passes by and she barely seems to notice it. It
is like some part is missing inside her head. Still she is sweet
and nice in every other way. So we have got used to her now,
stopped asking questions.”

Vic went to
the helicopter and found the photo of Susan. He showed it to the
man. “Do you think that looks like her?” he asked.

Rick looked at
Vic curiously then looked hard at the photo and frowned. “Well yes
and no,” he said, “looks wise she is almost a dead ringer even
though her hair is cut differently. But the girl in this photo
looks so alive. This Jane here, when you look hard at her it is
like she is not really alive at all, like you can look straight
through her and she is not really there. So it could be her but it
is more like two identical sisters, one who is alive and normal and
the other was born without a soul, as if someone took it away at
birth. So all I can say is, maybe, but I don’t really know for
sure.

“
But I know you know more about this one,” he said, pointing
to the photo. “So, if you tell me the whole story, maybe I can help
figure it out.”

Vic looked at
him, serious and intent, as if considering. “I would love to tell
you. But, as yet, I don’t begin to know what the answer is myself.
Once I work it out a bit more I will let you know.”

The sun was
now falling low in the sky and Vic was conscious of his need to
spruce himself up if he wanted to make a good impression tonight at
this big social event of the town, the barbeque.

He pulled out
his overnight bag from behind the helicopter seat, hoping he had
something clean amongst the pile of dirty clothes he had been
intending to wash once home at Borroloola. He suspected the
pickings would be slim, but he wanted to make a good entrance to
his next meeting with this girl, Jane, whoever she really was.

He whistled as
he walked back to his room, at least she was real, that was what he
had got from his conversation with Rick. So now he needed to turn
on the charm and find a way to get inside her head, to see what
secrets were hidden, even if buried deep.

So he showered, shaved, found his cleanest shirt and gave it
an iron so it looked almost spick. He checked himself in the
mirror. Not perfect but it would do; at least nothing to
short-circuit his charm offensive. He saw a monogrammed hanky that
his mother had given him; it was sitting inside his bag still, the
only article not yet in the dirty clothes pile.
That may come in handy if I spill some food or
drink
, he thought. He tucked it into his
pocket.

Someone had
said that the barbeque was in the church hall alongside the church.
He had seen the church with the cross on the roof as he made a
circuit of the town when he first landed. It was at the other end
of the town past the shop and petrol station. He stepped out,
feeling lightness in his step that had been missing for the last
year or more.

Soon he came
alongside a grey haired couple walking steadily along the street.
He hailed them as he passed. They returned his greeting, smiled
broadly, and introduced themselves, the church pastor, Doug, and
his wife, Ruth, out for an evening stroll before they too went to
the barbeque.

Vic fell into
step with them. As he joined their conversation a sense of courtly
manners and wise kindness radiated from them. He found himself
telling of how he came to be here, almost by accident and how he
had to dig deep into his limited clothes to find something suitable
to wear. They had a presence like some of the missionaries he had
known as a child, simple good people, and he felt at ease chatting
with them.

They told him
that, as of today, he was a minor celebrity in the town, the
aboriginal helicopter pilot. Now he had half the school children
wanting to follow in his career. They told him how their good
friend, Jane, and they spoke her name with obvious affection, had
told them how he had made a big hit with her toddler, David, who up
until then would not let any other men come near him. They all
shared a laugh at this. They asked him how long he was staying.