Vanishing Point

To shake off her lethargy, she picked up her happily gurgling child and headed off along the fence. Even though the sun was getting cooler, the red earth held the heat of the day and the still air remained an oppressive blanket.

Suddenly, rustling shrubs disturbed the stillness. Katherine turned to see a small, spiralling willy-willy of wind and sand wind its way across the plain, tickling the shrubs as it wandered an erratic path through the fence and across the road. It passed close by and Katherine quickly turned her back, holding her baby protectively close to her, away from the swirling sand. The edges gently brushed them before, about a hundred metres further on, it collapsed into nothing but a whirring of ruffling leaves. The twisting fountain of wind had disappeared as fast as it had appeared, silently into nothing.

A short distance down the track she came across an animal trap. Its powerful jaws had snapped shut on a dog, trapping its front leg about half way between the paw and the knee joint. The animal was dead, and apparently had been for some time because it no longer had the nauseating smell of rotting flesh. The flies, although present, did not form the usual impenetrable black cloud. The dry heat of the desert had partially mummified the remains but it was still clearly recognisable as a female dingo.

Katherine knelt near the corpse. ‘You poor thing,’ she said quietly. She imagined the animal trotting through the scrub, on the lookout for possible prey, a small wallaby or a rabbit, to catch and feed to her pups. The old traditional hunting path, used for countless generations of dingos, was barred by something now: a fence. Settlers from the old world needed to define their boundaries and protect their exotic animals so they built miles and miles of wired, prison-like enclosures that kept creatures both in and out.

Katherine imagined the dog trotting along the fence line barrier, looking for a way through. Suddenly, without warning, the jaws of the trap snapped shut. As her mind pictured the scenario, she looked closer at the trapped animal and realised that it must have taken a long time to die. In its desperate attempts to free itself it had almost chewed through its own leg. Above where the steel jaws had trapped it all the flesh had been torn away and the bone partly damaged, but the teeth marks were clear. Escape was impossible.

Tears welled up in Katherine’s eyes. ‘What an awful way to die. How cruel these traps are. How can the men that set them be so unfeeling?’

As if Carolyn could understand Katherine said to her baby, ‘I wonder if a human would do something like that if they were trapped and trying to escape. I wonder if a person would be prepared to undergo such pain in order just to live. I doubt it.’ She shuddered involuntarily. ‘The more I know of people, the more I like animals.’

* * *

Late in the afternoon, as the shadows lengthened, Katherine collected almost a full container of water from the pit and drained an equal amount from the little plastic bags on the branches of the surrounding vegetation. She collected a small pile of twigs and branches from the dead mulga trees near the fence to make a fire and cook her evening meal. She broke the twigs and stacked them over crumpled paper, ready to light a cooking fire. Her planned meal consisted of a few tins of baked beans, some tinned vegetables and a steak and onion mix from the remaining food in the Kombi. She took out the tins, ready for her own meal, but first fed Carolyn so she could eat without being interrupted by a hungry cry.

After feeding and changing Carolyn she was about to start her own meal when she heard the faint noise of a vehicle. Katherine climbed out of the Kombi and looked up and down the track. The noise was quite distinct but she could not decide which direction it was coming from. She took a few steps into the track and squinted her eyes westward, using her hand as a shield. It was the direction from which Alec would return. Her heart lifted.

Nothing but the long shadows from the sun low in the sky could be seen. She turned east to see a small dust cloud moving slowly towards her. A vehicle, at last. It wasn’t Alec, but it was someone.

Katherine heard the steady throb of the engine coming closer. A four-wheel drive diesel engine makes a noise very different from the higher pitch, distinctive throaty whine of their Kombi. As the vehicle drew nearer Katherine recognised it as a Land Rover, so familiar with its functional design. It was a utility and towing a small, two wheeled trailer. A fine dust plume trailed the pair.

As it approached the Kombi Katherine raised her hand in greeting. The driver slowed the vehicle, changed gear down and pulled up in a whirl of dust. Katherine turned her body away. By holding her hands over her face she shielded her nose and eyes until the cloud of dust accompanying, and now overtaking the vehicle, had settled. The driver had his window open and seemed oblivious to the mini-sandstorm he had created. He looked at Katherine but appeared expressionless and said nothing as she dropped her hand and turned to face him.

‘G’day.’ Katherine opened the conversation with the standard country greeting.

‘G’day. How ya goin’?’

‘Not so good. We broke down and are a bit stuck.’

‘Well, ya got good weather for it.’

‘It would be good if we weren’t stuck. I can’t appreciate the weather or anything else because of worrying about what’s wrong with our Kombi and getting back to Adelaide.’

‘Adelaide! In that! Jeez, woman, what ya thinking of out here alone in one of those an’ on these tracks?’

‘Oh, no, I’m not alone. Or rather, actually I am just at present because my husband has gone to get help in Ceduna. We waited here for a while, but there’s so little traffic that he decided to walk there cross-country.’

‘How long ya been here? When did he go?’

‘He left early this morning. Reckon he’ll be back with help tomorrow.’

‘Well, if he left this morning he won’t be back for a day or so, this bin a weekend, like. Late t’morrow at best. Would ya like me ta give ya a ride ta the main road and ya can hitch in to town?’

‘Thanks for the offer but I’ve got a little baby in the Kombi. I can’t really hitch a ride or risk not getting one with a baby.’

&nbs

p; ”Strewth, woman, are ya mad? Got a bubs out ‘ere. In that!’ The driver’s tone reflected his obvious incredulity.

Katherine looked embarrassed. The stranger had voiced the same opinions as her mother, and now her guilt welled up inside her. She looked down at her feet and shuffled them in the sand. ‘Yes, I know. I must have been off my head. Now this has happened I admit it was pretty dumb.’

The driver climbed out of his vehicle and walked over to the Kombi. Once out of the driver’s seat Katherine was surprised at his size. He was as bulky as a large sack of potatoes and stood at least six foot tall. Katherine took in his appearance and made a snap judgement. He seemed all right; probably in his early forties with the look of a man from the land. His leathery and tanned face matched his brown eyes in colour. Distinct stubble indicated that at least a couple of days had passed since the last shave. His hair, still dark, had a few streaks of grey and was thinning. In a few more years he would have the typical partial atoll of hair surrounding the island pate of the balding. He looked like a man used to hard physical work and, although dusty, his clothes did not smell stale and unwashed. On the man’s right arm, just above the elbow, was a small, geometric pattern tattoo. Katherine always felt you could judge a man by his hands and his were broad with short fingers, almost podgy. Katherine was sure this indicated a streak of stubbornness, probably a practical person with little creativity.

Leaning his hand on the vehicle he peered inside the two central open side doors of the Kombi. Carolyn lay on the open back seat, propped up with two pillows and happily gurgling. Katherine came up behind the man and joined him in the examination of the interior.

‘They are so sweet when they’re happy,’ she said. ‘Her name is Carolyn and she is just over four months. She’s such a good baby.’