The other villagers seemed impressed with Pukz’s bravery as he climbed on board and Junie sensed he was something of the village daredevil. It was his third time in the air, Marlon told her, which Pukz confirmed by grinning beneath thick, cracking face paint and holding up three fingers. Then muddling things by proclaiming, ‘Turd!’
Marlon laughed loudly at that and turned on the engine. ‘Ready to fly, monkeys?’
‘Why monkeys?’ Gus asked, buckling in.
‘Because we’re apes and we’re about to fly. Haven’t you ever seen The Wizard of Oz?’
‘I was made to endure it once.’
‘Made to? It’s the best story ever told, isn’t it, Junie?’
Eliza looked at Junie’s face, amused. ‘You won’t get a yes there, especially today. Lost Horizon is her favourite, remember?’
‘Ah, that’s right. Elle est une romantique. But The Wizard of Oz is romantic too,’ Marlon protested.
‘In what possible way? Unless you’re suggesting something about the witch and her harem of monkeys?’ Eliza said, laughing.
‘You’re disgraceful,’ Ernest told her with a shake of his head.
‘I don’t know. Think about it from the poor witch’s point of view…up in her castle, all alone…’ Eliza continued as Junie giggled.
Marlon turned towards her. ‘What’s so funny? I thought you were the soft-hearted romantic?’
‘And an animal lover,’ Eliza added.
‘Yes, but not a lover of animals,’ Junie said, trying to keep a straight face.
Marlon chuckled, breaking into ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard’ as he turned the plane around for take-off.
‘Oh Lord, now he’s singing. Make a note of that in your story, Gus. Tell the world how we perished from bleeding ears,’ Eliza instructed.
They rose above the village and out towards the valleys in good spirits and Pukz began to point out various sights as they flew along: rivers and ravines; a lone, majestic eagle; a shimmering waterfall. Marlon was doing his best to translate what he could, then Pukz rattled something very fast and Marlon strained to listen above the engines.
‘This is the lost valley coming up now. Beyond those clouds along the ridges. Pukz is saying that he has been down there, but only a few times. Most are too afraid to go.’
The passengers couldn’t see anything as they moved through the white mist, but then it cleared in feathery strips and there it was. Steep, wild hills protected hidden depths that were green and thick with vegetation, darkening to indigo in places, and a great river cut through it like a golden, twisting snake in the sunlight.
‘My God, it looks like the river really is filled with gold. Like in the book,’ Junie exclaimed, and for some reason she wanted to laugh or cry. She did a bit of both as goose bumps rose on her arms. ‘It’s – it’s incredible.’
‘Like a yellow brick road?’ Marlon teased.
‘Far better than Oz,’ she said in awe. ‘It’s Shangri-La.’
The valley truly did look like paradise from up here; a vision hidden by the gods, a secret utopia teeming with brilliant life that clung to its edges and burst out of gullies and hillsides. Every inch seemed covered in unique, abundant foliage unchanged by time; a landscape from a primitive era. The way the world must have been before man grew advanced enough to destroy it. Strange-looking birds glided through patches of low fog and gigantic ferns shadowed unknown depths.
‘Amazing,’ said Gus, clicking his camera. ‘Has Pukz ever seen any of the natives up close?’ he asked Marlon, taking a photo of Ernest, who immediately put his arm around Junie.
Pukz nodded. ‘Kurelu.’
‘He’s got some guts,’ Gus said. ‘Takes a brave man to wander into that.’
‘Bah, he’s stone age himself. Probably cracked a few skulls with them over a fire,’ Ernest said, laughing at his own joke, and Junie moved away from him, revolted.
Fortunately, Pukz didn’t seem to take much notice and pointed out something else to Marlon.
‘Kuji,’ Pukz said, pointing to the western side.
‘What is Kuji?’ Eliza asked.
‘Who is Kuji, you mean. He’s like a spirit man – a white ghost who walks with the Kurelu tribes. I’ve heard him mentioned before; I think he may be a legend in these parts,’ Marlon told them.
‘Sounds like a Phantom comic,’ Gus commented, writing it down. ‘Fascinating.’
‘A ghost? God, they really are primitive aren’t they?’ Ernest said.
Marlon shrugged. ‘Maybe my translation is poor.’
‘You – Kuji,’ Pukz repeated, pointing at Ernest.
He laughed again, a little nervously this time. ‘Well, here’s hoping. I won’t be too pleased if I’m about to become a ghost.’
‘It’d do wonders for my story,’ Gus muttered.
Eliza slapped his arm. ‘Behave.’
They sailed along for another ten minutes or so, marvelling at prehistoric-looking forests and becoming excited at the only sign of mankind: a smoke trail wafting from what appeared to be a cluster of huts. Junie leant her forehead against the window, wishing desperately for a closer look but knowing it was impossible.
‘Time to leave, people. Take your final photos, Gus,’ Marlon called.
They made their way to the rim of the valley, the white encompassing them once more and blocking a full view of the exterior walls as they climbed out. Junie was grateful for Marlon’s skills as she observed the sharpness of the stone in fleeting glimpses, conceding the valley really was extremely well protected from the rest of the world. Suddenly she felt very privileged to have seen it, one of very few westerners ever to have done so. It was so different to the earth she knew, almost like it wasn’t really a part of it, so removed had it seemed.
And now obscured once more, like it had never existed.
‘The Lost Horizon,’ she said out loud.
Marlon looked over at her and his expression was difficult to read. ‘Maybe it should stay that way.’
They turned in a slow circle and began their journey back, leaving the mysteries behind in their deep folds, and Junie hoped to return again one day. It was too much to take in on one viewing.
By the time they landed back on the rough strip at Wamena, Eliza was pleading a headache and lay down on the floor of the honai, seemingly uncaring of the little tribe of children staring at her from the entrance. Gus was making notes as Ernest sat and conversed with the leaders, John assisting, which left Marlon with Junie.
‘Tea?’
‘My, very sophisticated,’ she said as he produced a thermos from the plane, whistling a tune as some villagers watched in fascination.
‘You get used to it,’ he said with a nod at them.
‘Yes, I suppose you have to. I must look very peculiar to them.’
They sipped their tea in companionable silence as the locals began to wander off, returning to everyday mountain life.
‘I must thank you for that incredible flight today. It was far beyond anything I could have imagined.’
He looked over at her, a glad smile spreading. ‘Like you went inside your book at last?’
‘Almost,’ she said.
‘Sometimes, when I’m flying over, it feels like I’m sailing somewhere between heaven and earth. Like it isn’t quite real.’ He flushed a little and she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. ‘Guess I’m the romantic now.’
‘I guess you are,’ she said, liking the fact.
They fell to silence again and she noticed that he seemed very preoccupied.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he said, sighing as he took out his cigarettes. ‘I’m afraid I have a favour to ask you and I hope you don’t mind, but it’s legal in nature.’
‘What have you done?’ she asked, immediately concerned. ‘No, not me,’ he was quick to reassure her, ‘my friend. He’s a native fella I’ve worked with for years, Joseph. Got into a bit of trouble over a poker game and – well, basically Judge Mosle
y is accusing him of stealing from white people.’
‘Did he?’
‘No, definitely not. Joseph is no thief, I assure you.’
‘What does he allege Joseph stole?’
‘Based on the contents on the table, there was a watch and a fair bit of cash. I gave him the watch so he certainly shouldn’t be accused of stealing that, and I pay him well, so the cash is justifiable too. I think I could get him off but there is one item he had I didn’t know about and I can’t prove where he got it.’
‘Why not?’
‘He says he got it from Pukz, traded it for some supplies, and of course we can’t really ask Pukz to testify or they’ll just throw him in jail instead.’
Junie nodded, absorbing that fact. ‘What’s the item?’
‘A silver lighter.’
‘Where on earth would Pukz have got that from? Perhaps someone on a joy flight?’
Marlon shrugged. ‘Probably. That’s what we need to find out while we’re up here.’
‘Without making it sound like an accusation of any kind.’
‘Of course.’
Junie considered his predicament. ‘Why don’t you just bribe the judge?’
‘It’d be a hefty bribe. Did I mention he’s not very good at poker?’
She nodded slowly, understanding the situation now. ‘So if he keeps Joseph in jail, he keeps the booty from the game.’
‘Exactly.’
Junie sipped on her tea thoughtfully. ‘How can you prove it’s the same lighter Pukz gave him anyway?’
‘It’s engraved.’
Ernest was taking a while and Junie wondered if he’d gotten lost. It seemed he wasn’t keen on using the part of the bush the locals favoured as a toilet. Eliza was only just coming back and Junie had to laugh at the look on her face.
‘How did you get on with your little spade?’
‘I think the least said about the matter the better,’ she replied, sitting down. ‘Pass my bag would you?’
‘God, what’s in this? A brick?’ Junie wondered, handing it over. ‘How’s your headache?’
‘Mostly gone. I think it must have been Marlon’s singing that caused it. By the way, I’ve decided to give up on him – he obviously fancies you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m…I’m married….’
Eliza seemed to find that funny. ‘Good Lord, even more reason to play the game. Shh, here they come.’
Ernest had found his way back and Marlon was helping the women carry drinks. They passed them around, fresh juice of some kind, and Eliza added some vodka she produced from her bag. That explains the brick, Junie thought.
‘Can’t leave all the comforts of home at home,’ Eliza said, winking at her as she poured.
Gus set up his camera and they watched with interest as a dance began. It was filled with strange yelps and noises and Junie soon realised it was an imitation of war. The paint on their faces was elaborate, filled with markings and dots, and feathers framed the eyes of some, with long quills bobbing up and down on the foreheads of others. Large bark masks were held in front or hung from behind to symbolise both spirit and man, or so Marlon tried to explain.
Eliza seemed more interested in refilling glasses but Junie was captivated.
The meal came next, lots of pork as expected, and a variety of forest fare. Junie thought it all rather delicious and they ate hungrily, filling their stomachs at the villagers’ encouragement and thanking them continually for their generosity. The women smiled at her shyly and one pointed at her diamond bracelet, repeating something that Junie guessed was a request for a closer look. She took it off and they all had turns holding it and admiring it before returning it to her.
‘Nice rocks,’ Marlon said.
‘Ernest likes me to wear it,’ she said with a shrug.
‘You make it sound like a chore,’ Ernest said. ‘Never grateful for anything, are you?’
Junie was embarrassed but was saved from commenting as Ernest lit his cigarette with his gold lighter. The villagers became very animated and they pointed at it, chatting excitedly.
‘Litter,’ said Pukz immediately.
Ernest, Gus and Eliza were engaged in showing the villagers the further contents of their pockets and Marlon seized his opportunity while they were diverted.
‘Have you seen one before?’ he asked Pukz, then quickly tried to translate as Junie leant forwards in anticipation.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Pukz said.
‘Yours?’ Marlon asked.
‘Pukz,’ he said proudly.
‘And did you give it away?’ Marlon moved his hands in giving and receiving motions and Pukz seemed to understand.
‘Joseph.’
Junie and Marlon exchanged relieved glances and Marlon asked where he originally got the lighter from, translating awkwardly when Pukz didn’t understand the question in English. Pukz went into a long, rapid-fire explanation. Well, that was easy, thought Junie as he spoke, but Marlon looked pale.
‘What is it?’
‘Seems Pukz did trade the silver lighter for some food with Joseph. He said he didn’t want it any more because the magic didn’t like him. Must have run out of fuel. Then he said Joseph didn’t want me to know because he’s not supposed to do deals on the side when we’re working, which all rings true.’
‘So where did Pukz get it from? Was it someone on a joy flight we can track down?’
‘No, that’s the weirdest part – he says he got it from someone down in the valley.’
‘These valleys? But who on earth…?’
‘That’s just it, he said it’s not someone from earth,’ Marlon told her. ‘He said he got it from Kuji.’
Marlon was deep in conversation with Pukz when Junie approached the plane next morning.
‘Goodnight,’ Pukz said, nodding as he left them.
‘Hey, it’s a greeting,’ Marlon said, shrugging at her confusion.
Junie had to smile. ‘What were you just talking about? Did he tell you anything else?’
Marlon nodded. ‘Among other things. Sometimes it’s hard to bridge the gap.’
‘You mean you don’t understand the language or the culture?’
‘Half versed in both, I’m afraid.’
Junie leant against the plane, shielding her eyes to read his expression, her lawyer senses on alert. ‘Is something else going on?’
Marlon sighed. ‘Let’s just say that the day is coming when we may need a very big bridge.’
Junie cocked her head to one side, trying to understand. ‘So what’s next?’
‘With Joseph? There’s nothing else for it. I’ll have to bribe Mosley.’ He checked his watch.
‘Yes, it seems like it. You can’t exactly get a testimony from a ghost. How much do you think he’ll want?’
‘At least a thousand pounds, I’d say. Bloody old crook.’
Junie was shocked. ‘So much! Have you got the money?’
‘Just,’ he said, loading their bags and helping her into the plane. She took her seat and an awkward silence followed.
‘It’s none of my business is it?’ she said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, it’s all right. I, uh, got into a bit of trouble after the war, hitting the bottle too hard…and I don’t mind a gamble myself,’ he admitted. ‘Had a month’s pay on the table in the same game actually.’
‘But you seem to be doing all right, with your plane and all.’
‘Oh, I’m getting back on my feet now and look to get a pretty nice contract signed with Philippe by the end of the year, ferrying mining staff back and forth. Except for a bit of poker and whisky when the mood takes me, I’m right back on track,’ he said. ‘This will clean me out, though.’
‘And you can’t make a call to the States?’
Marlon looked out the window with a frown and she wished she hadn’t asked, annoyed with herself for prying a second time.
‘My parents basically washed their hands of me after the first few years when I reall
y went off the rails,’ he told her, ‘and my grandmother died in forty-six, so…yeah. Not many options there.’
He went quiet and Junie suspected that memory was a painful one.
The village children were waving and they waved back.
‘Do you miss it? Your home?’ she asked, looking around them at what must seem a million miles away from America.
‘San Francisco? Not really. I miss Sausalito though. Have to get out of Moresby and into the wilderness sometimes – especially the open coast. It’s in my blood.’
‘I think it’s in mine too,’ she said. ‘Society life isn’t really my thing – despite appearances. I much prefer just being by the ocean or in the countryside. Or the jungle,’ she added, looking around them. ‘Just feels right for some reason. More natural.’
‘I remember thinking that about you the first time we met. That there was something a bit untamed about you.’
‘Just a wild colonial girl at heart,’ she said lightly, but she was blushing.
‘I’m a bit wild at heart myself,’ he said.
She gave him a teasing smile. ‘You don’t say?’
‘More than you know actually,’ he confessed. ‘I’m part Native American – Coast Miwok. My grandmother Liwa was full blood.’
Junie stared at him, intrigued. ‘Wow, well, that explains a few things.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well…such as why you seem so at home up here. And why you have so much compassion for native peoples…like your friend Joseph.’
‘You have compassion for native people too and it isn’t in your blood. Look at what you did to protect that maid of yours.’
‘Maybe it’s an Irish throwback. Maybe I’ve got some ancient fisher woman in me.’
‘Now that’s a delicious thought – you throwing your nets to the ocean on a wild Irish coast,’ he said, observing her closely now. ‘Your eyes are the colour of the sea.’
‘Are they?’ she said, trying to act as though the words didn’t affect her. ‘I do miss it, I must admit. The beaches are different back home.’
‘And what else do you miss about Australia, Junie?’
She frowned, the admission hurting. ‘My daughter, Frankie.’
‘I didn’t know you had a child.’ He looked surprised. ‘How old is she?’
Worth Fighting For Page 29
