Singular

by Larry Buenafe

  Then it was her turn to smile. “Of course. I would expect nothing less. Call me, any time.”

  They shook hands and turned to go, but at the last moment dad said, “Oh, by the way. Clearly, some of those twenty soldiers didn’t make it back to their submarine. I don’t suppose that the Bright Hand took any of them prisoner?”

  “Hmm. Interesting question. I suppose it’s possible… if you came with us, I guess you could find out for yourself.”

  Dad chuckled and said, “Very good. We’ll be in touch.” Dad and Benji hopped back into the Humvee, and we roared down the road. “Lukey, please ask Ava to check for any locating devices that may have been planted either on our vehicle or on our persons and check this phone for locating capabilities.”

  I asked Ava to check, and she said, “The phone’s a hot potato, but there are no other fries in the bag.”

  Oh, boy. As usual, I told dad what she said because I couldn’t decipher it. “Ok, ask her if she can disable the locator or if we need to do it manually.”

  “Ok… she says it’s in the software and she can do it wirelessly, but there are many cunning passages and contrived corridors in the code, so it will take a minute or so.”

  “Crikey, a whole minute? Our girl is slippin’, I’d say. A couple ‘a clicks ahead we’ll be takin’ a tiny detour, so get ready for some rough ridin’, mates.”

  “Where are we heading?” dad asked.

  Benji and Harry made eye contact, and Benji replied, “Oh, it’s not much, just gotta check on some critters the nation keeps out in the bush. Don’t worry, I think you’ll find it… interestin’.”

  “Dad, what nation is he talking about?”

  “Oh, that’s what they call his people. In the US we would probably refer to them as a tribe.”

  A few minutes later we came to a barely discernible path to the right of the road, and we turned off, barreling down the heavily rutted trail at what felt like a completely dangerous speed. Over the roar of the engine and the pounding of the tires on the dirt Benji shouted, “You lot are gonna get to see some things no one else ever gets to on this trip west. This is how the nation honors you. I don’t remember this ever happenin’ before, you, Harry?”

  Nahh, never. Good on ya, mates. You should be grinnin’ like a shot fox.”

  Like a… what does that mean?

  We continued bounding along for nearly an hour, and suddenly the road, or what passed for a road, turned hard to the left around a small grove of Eucalyptus trees. The road leveled out, and we proceeded smoothly for another fifteen minutes or so. A quick turn to the right, and we pulled up alongside an immense sunken pasture, probably ten acres or so in size, surrounded by a high chain-link fence. There was no conceivable way that anyone would ever find it; even the top of the tall fence was below the surface, and it was hidden by a small hill to its south and a line of Eucalyptus trees on the east and west sides of the pasture.

  Benji bailed out of the Humvee and said, “Well, come on, ya mongrels, you’re not gonna wanna miss this, I reckon.”

  The pasture was filled with head-high grasses, a few boulders scattered about, a small pond in the middle, and a handful of trees.

  Benji and Harry stood near the slope down to the pasture, shielding their eyes, gazing intently, and whistling a warbling tune. It all seemed weird, but suddenly, Benji said, “Oi, look there, in the far corner just to the right.”

  The grass was moving, and it seemed obvious that an animal of some kind was walking in our direction. It seemed roughly the size of a large dog, maybe like a full-grown German shepherd; suddenly the grass was moving in another area, and another, and another. It was hard to keep track, but I estimated that there were twelve of whatever the animals were in the pasture, and they were all moving in our direction.

  There was a small clearing right near the corner of the pasture directly in front of us, and one of the creatures burst through the tall grasses and paced the open space. It was making an odd sound, something between a whine and a roar. This was a truly bizarre animal; about the size and shape of a wolf, with short, tan hair, an odd face kind of like a distorted fox, a long tail similar to a kangaroo’s extending straight back, and a series of straight vertical stripes on its back and sides. As we watched, several more emerged through the tall grasses into the clearing, all pacing and making the strange sound.

  Ms. Houng’s eyes were wide, and she seemed a little scared as she stood behind dad and Benji. Dad said, “Are you kidding me? They went extinct more than a hundred years ago.”

  “Not exactly, mate. The nation knew they were bein’ hunted out, and took a few in, been breedin’ ‘em in a couple ‘a spots ever since.”

  I couldn’t take it any longer. “What the heck is it?”

  Benji put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Bloody Tasmanian tiger, I call ‘em Tazzies. They’re sacred to our nation, and we don’t want people muckin’ with ‘em so we keep ‘em hidden. They’re marsupials, like wallabies. See that bulge down by the tail on that one there?”

  From behind us came soft crying. Ms. Houng, through her tears, said, “Mardie would love to see this. He love animals. Well, maybe not mouse, but most animals anyway.” Then she cried some more.

  Dad put his arm around her shoulder and said, “Somehow, we’ll find him. I promise you, one way or another, we’ll get him back.”

  29

  W e stayed a few more minutes watching the peculiar, supposedly extinct animals, and eventually got back on the road west. As we drove, Harry told us more about the ‘Tazzies’. “Those critters have magic in ‘em, ya know. They come to us in the Dreamtime, tell us about our ancestors. They sound like bloody Morgan Freeman with an Aussie accent.”

  Benji laughed and clapped his hands. “That’s not true, ya hoon! You been chewin’ on those crazy mushies again?”

  “I like the way they taste, ok? And who you callin’ a hoon, ya hoon!”

  We drove on listening to Benji and Harry joke and argue for the next few hours, and I was wondering who Morgan Freeman was. Eventually Harry said, “We’ll be switchin’ cars up in Coober Pedy. We’ll be there soon.”

  “Time for a little tucker too, I reckon,” Benji offered. We had been traveling almost a whole day and even I felt a little twinge of hunger.

  Harry rubbed his hands together, which I though was a little dangerous because he had to take his hands off the wheel to do it. “We’ll find somethin’ in Coober Pedy.”

  Benji turned to us in the back seat and said, “Coober Pedy’s an interestin’ place. Dugouts everywhere, and it’s the opal capital of the bloody world. Oh, a dugout is an underground house. Gets so hot there, people just go down, ‘s nice and cool underneath, compared to the surface, anyway.”

  “The people live in… in holes in the ground?” I asked.

  “Nahh, it’s more like tunnels. It’s better than it sounds. Anyway, we’re not gonna be here long enough to check ‘em out, but maybe we’ll come back and see ‘em another time.”

  We drove into the town, and in the dark there didn’t seem to be much there. We drove down into a tunnel and stopped next to an old, brown van with faded orange stripes on the side. “Ok, mates, time to swap!” Harry cried.

  Out of the van came… another man who looked exactly like Benji. “This is my other brother, Wally. He says he’s the best lookin’ of us all, but I dunno about that,” said Benji.

  I couldn’t hardly tell any difference between any of them, and I thought if two of them left I wouldn’t be sure who the remaining one was. Dad and Ms. Houng seemed a bit confused also, and Benji and his brothers guffawed and slapped their knees. “I don’t reckon I told ya, we’re triplets. Comes in handy when you need ta fool people, eh? Wally got some tucker for us waitin’ inside. Well, hop in, let’s get movin’!”

  Either Harry or Wally, I wasn’t sure which, got in the driver’s seat of the old van, we piled in the back, and off we went down the tunnel. Although it seemed ancient, the van was almost silent, and as if
he knew what I was thinking, Benji said, “Had this old Henry yank tank retrofitted a while back. She’ll go over five hundred clicks on a charge, what a beauty!”

  I didn’t think it was much of a beauty, but it did run smoothly. We continued down the road eating some sandwiches that consisted of some odd-tasting spread between two slices of white bread, now traveling through the Great Victoria Desert, which Benji called the Great Vicky. We eventually found out that Wally was now driving, and he was a little quieter than his brothers, which Benji appeared to like just fine as it allowed him more time to talk.

  Eventually dad, Ms. Houng, and Benji fell asleep and Wally drove on through the night. As the sun dawned Benji suddenly awoke, a little drool on the side of his mouth, and grunted, “Did we take the turn off yet?”

  “Nahh, but it’s just ahead,” Wally replied.

  “Woke up just in time! If you thought those last critters were bonkers, wait ‘til you see what we got up ahead for ya!” Benji bellowed.

  What could it be? Those Tasmanian tigers were the weirdest animals I ever saw…

  Due to Benji’s enthusiasm, everyone was now awake. “Time for a little brekkie, don’tcha think?” he continued.

  “We got heaps more sangers in the cooler back there, better eat ‘em up before they go bad,” Wally answered.

  Suddenly we lurched to the right and tore directly into the Great Victoria Desert. Benji rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Here we go, mates! I haven’t seen these beauties in years. You’ve never seen anythin’ like this, I promise ya!”

  After a kilometer or so of bouncing through the desert we hit an actual trail and proceeded a little more smoothly. We took several turns around hills and sand dunes and after an hour came to an area with more vegetation; there were low trees, knee-high grasses, and small bush-like plants scattered about. As we traveled further it looked more like a desert oasis, and we came upon a large pond, again sunken down so low that you would not know it was there until you were right upon it. It really seemed unusual to find this spot in the middle of the desert; we stopped alongside the slope dropping down to the pond, and now could see another tall fence surrounding the area. On the side opposite us was a huge grassy area dotted with more of the low trees; it was probably four times the size of the pasture where we saw the Tasmanian tigers. Into the sides of the slope down to the pond were several tunnels or caves with entrances large enough for a car to drive in. The whole area smelled a bit like a pig pen; slightly sweet and dirty at the same time.

  “Ready, Wally?”

  “Ready, mate.”

  They both whistled, different this time from the one they used for the Tasmanian tigers; it was long and low, then slowly raising in pitch. They made the odd whistling sound several times, and finally something emerged from one of the caves, and they were right, we had never seen anything like this. It was huge, probably nearly three meters tall, covered in tan fur; at first, I thought it was a gigantic bear, but it was shaped differently; wide and pudgy, with a huge, droopy rear end, it walked more like a hippo than a bear, staying on all fours. Its head was triangle-shaped, and it had a long snout hanging down in front; not like an elephant’s trunk, but longer than a normal animal nose. In fact, it occurred to me that this thing was nearly as large as an elephant. It slowly trundled out of its cave and turned up toward us, then stuck its snout in the water.

  Benji and Wally jumped up and down, clapping wildly. Soon, several more of the huge animals exited their caves, splashed about in the pond, then wandered off toward the grasses and trees, chewing on vegetation as they went.

  Dad’s mouth was dropped wide open, and he said, “You have got to be kidding me. This is not possible.”

  “What, ya don’t believe yer own eyes?” Benji hollered, swinging his hands in excitement. “It’s exactly what ya think it is: bloody giant wombat, the diprotodon. Supposedly extinct for thirty thousand years or so. Largest marsupial ever. Some of ‘em weigh nearly three thousand kilos. When our ancestors first came here, these beasties were everywhere. Most of ‘em got either hunted out or died in the ice age, but we tamed some and kept ‘em goin’ by makin’ caves for ‘em, and here they are. These are the last of their species.”

  Wally had his eyes closed, his hands in front of his face in a praying pose and was humming softly. Waving us in close, Benji whispered, “These critters are sacred to our nation, just like the Tazzies. Spirit animals. ‘Course, I’m a man of science, but I got a foot in both worlds, eh?”

  He adopted the same pose as Wally, and they hummed for five minutes or so as we watched the amazing animals.

  “This is incredible. It’s like seeing living dinosaurs,” dad said, more to himself than anyone else. “I had no idea.”

  Ms. Houng seemed shocked. “I study Biology and Genetics long time. These should not be here, no way.”

  Benji laughed and said, “That big one there, her name is Daisy. Ahh, she’s a beauty. Totally tame, you can even ride her if you’re nice. Wally, whatta ya say?”

  In response, Wally whistled the strange tune again, and the giant creature walked slowly toward the fence. As she approached her size was even more impressive; much taller and wider than a hippopotamus, and although she looked gentle, she seemed to be made of pure muscle. She stood directly against the tall fence, and Wally stepped on the top of it and then down onto the back of the monstrous animal. He slid down on her back in a horse-riding position, but she was so wide that his feet went straight out to the side. He patted her on the back of the head and said, “Alright, Daisy, let’s have a little walkabout, eh?” Then he kicked her lightly on the side, and she ambled off toward and around the pond.

  “Oh, this is too much. How did you do this?” dad asked.

  “The nation’s been breedin’ ‘em for thousands of years. We take ‘em when they’re babies, get ‘em to imprint on us, and that’s all it takes. We got a few of our people down in that cave there, the one closest. They watch over these beauties, make sure they’re doin’ well. Pretty clever, eh?”

  “Amazing is what it is. Why didn’t you ever tell me about this in all the years we’ve been working together?”

  “It’s the nation’s sacred secret. If word got out, all these animals would be gone in no time, and we want ‘em to be able to live in peace, so we give ‘em as much space as we can and keep ‘em safe. That’s our duty, mate.”

  The giant wombats were literally twice as tall as Wally, and he petted the other wombats as he rode around on Daisy. Soon he returned, saying, “Thanks old girl, I’ll visit ya again sometime.” He stood up on her back and climbed over the fence, and in moments we were back in the van and rolling toward our next destination, whatever that was.

  30

  I paused for a moment, concentrating on the question. “Well, it does seem like that’s our only choice. There might not be as many of them as they say there are, though. We don’t know enough about them yet, all we really know is what Ms. Perez and Mike told us. I think… I think before you ask them for help, we probably should know if they really can help us, because we might give something to them but get nothing for it. That wouldn’t be logical at all.”

  Dad put his arm around my shoulder, and even though that would normally make me uncomfortable, he’s my dad so it was ok. “That’s my boy. You’re right, we need more information.”

  He reached up into the front seat and shook Benji awake.

  “Oi, mate, I was just dreamin’ about havin’ a few coldies. Also, I was dreamin’ about a few tweaks I could make to our boyo’s energy system. Now, if I could have a few coldies while makin’ some tweaks to his energy system, why, that would be the best day ever, I reckon.”

  “That’s great. Do you think the nation has any knowledge of the Bright Hand? Their size, reach, capabilities?”

  “Thinkin’ about callin’ that little Shiela, are ya? Wally, you think anyone back home knows much about the Bright Hand?”

  “Let me think… oh yeah, remember little Jimmie E
arly? The kid who was always talkin’ about physics this and physics that? He went an’ joined up with ‘em, he’s still there I reckon. Maybe we can get ahold of him. He’s a good egg, he’ll tell us if he knows.”

  “Little Jimmie? Tiny little fella, only kid in the nation with glasses?”

  “Yeah, that’s him. I bet his sister, Tarni, she’d know how to contact ‘im.”

  “You know how to get ahold of Tarni?”

  “Sure, I got her number right here in me phone.”

  “You made me go through all that when you had her number the whole time? Ya hoon!”

  “Who you callin’ a hoon, ya hoon?”

  “You’re not a hoon, you’re a bloody drongo, that’s what you are.”

  “Hey, wait just a minute, mate. Them’s fightin’ words, I reckon.”

  They stared at one another for a moment, then both roared with laughter, slapping hands and patting shoulders.

  “Hey, you used to be sweet on ‘er, didn’ya?” asked Benji.

  “How do ya think I got ‘er number?”

  “Gimme your phone, you… I mean my sweet brother,” said Benji, still giggling.

  “Alright, but you’ll not get any service out here, ya know. It’ll come in about a hundred clicks west of here, though.”

  Benji stared at Wally, then said, “I’m gonna strangle you one ‘a these days, you know that?”

  “I’m not afraid ‘a that, but I am scared you might talk me to death.”

  “Oi, you hear that mates? My brother is a comedian.”

  We drove on through the desert, which eventually turned a little greener as we turned south west, with more trees and low bushes along the road. Benji said, “Ahh, finally, a signal,” and punched in the number. After a few moments of silence, he spoke in his aboriginal language; a minute later he clicked to end the call and said, “Alright, all set. She’ll contact Jimmie and have him call us, then we’ll see what we got. Speakin’ ‘a what we got, there’s one more stop to make. What you’ve seen so far won’t match this, mates, I promise ya.”