by Peter Butler
The water was putrid: a thick, deep green sludge sat on top and absolutely no aquatic plants grew in it, or around it. Even the large, well established trees nearby were all dead. A big part of the smell was coming from the many dead animals that lay around the edge of the pool. The best way to describe the area was like the rings of a tree trunk. The oldest victims were just piles of bleached bones, then a row of dead animals whose skin still remained partially intact but stretched tightly over their framework of bones. The internal organs had shriveled and disappeared leaving the skin depressed to the extent that the top layer rested on the bottom layer.
The most recent corpses were bloated like balloons as the gases inside had expanded in the heat and the process of decomposition. There were kangaroos, wallabies, rabbits, frogs, birds, even a couple of dingoes, all in these three repulsive states. It was as if any animal that touched the water or fed on the animals that had died from drinking it, also died. This had to be one of the most vile places on the planet and it was clear to all of us that mother-nature was in no way responsible for this outcome.
We were reluctant to get too near the water, but we needed to get a sample for analysis. We hadn't had the foresight to buy some plastic gloves, but Joey's ingenuity came to our rescue... again. He attached a plastic Coke bottle to a long stick, using some strands of tough grass to tie it securely onto the end. At full stretch Truf was able to half fill the bottle and safely retrieve it. We found an old rag in the car and wiped the bottle dry and then cut the grass away with a knife Joey carried in his bag. I screwed the cap on tightly, using the rag to prevent any residual poison from getting on me. I tested it to make sure it was leak-proof and then wrapped it in the rag a stowed it beside the jack in the back corner of the car.
Joey wanted to show us something that he thought we'd be interested in and he led us to the drill hole that the miners had made.
As we approached, Truf said, 'It's a dry hole. They've capped it and moved on.'
The top of the well had a square concrete lid, or slab, that had been poured over it. A metal pole, about the width of a man's hand protruded from it and it too had been filled with concrete, effectively sealing the hole forever. Joey kept going straight past the well and after a short distance it became obvious where he was taking us. We walked over a large mound of dirt and saw that the miners had dug a pit and simply rolled the drums that the chemicals had been stored in, into the depression. They were beginning to rust, but still seemed to be intact. I picked up a rock and threw it at one of the drums. It made a solid clunk sound instead of a hollow ringing sound. It was full.
But why hadn't they bothered to fill it in?
I hadn't noticed until then, that Tim had been busy with his phone taking numerous pictures of the two areas. There was some hope for him, after all.
'Can you send me copies of those pictures, please Tim?'
'Of course, Gary. I'll email them to you tonight.'
Tim had been the big revelation to me on this trip and I was gradually changing my opinion of him. That was up to this point in time. Now I had a new "biggest" revelation when I saw with my own eyes the disgusting way some people are capable of behaving. To say I was pissed at the people running Plutarch Resources was an understatement; a bit like calling a mass murderer a naughty boy.
'You make sure you all stay well away from this area,' Truf said to Joey. 'It's very dangerous. No playing, no investigating and under no circumstances should you pick-up or even touch any of these animals.'
'You think, boss?' He said to Truf with his now well-known cheeky look, covered with a huge grin.
'Okay. It's pretty obvious,' Truf replied, remaining serious. 'But I had to say it, just to guarantee there was no confusion. Anyone who touches that water might well die. You make sure you tell the other kids, Joey.'
'We know,' he agreed, momentarily becoming serious. 'My sister... she already died, mate.'
'I'm sorry, Joey. We are going to try and find a way to fix this for you,' I said with more confidence than I felt.
'We should take a look at where they're drilling at the moment,' Tim said, and I noticed an attitude had crept into his tone. Similar to me, he was rightly pissed at the company he and Megan owned 10% of. I was warming to Tim; hence I'd elevated him to co-ownership rights. Hopefully my new found esteem will continue.
'Can you show us where that is, Joey?' Truf asked.
Such a question didn't deign an answer, but it still drew one of his looks. Joey tuned and headed back to the car. We followed, like three small children being led into class by our teacher.
I marveled at the arrogance in one so young, but I had to concede he only showed it when someone questioned his ability to command things within his own areas of expertise. The cocky little bugger had my respect. He was going to grow up to be terrific asset to his people - or become one of the great assholes of this world. Possibly he could become both, simultaneously. I'd be watching.
As we reached the car and Joey was climbing to his seat on the bonnet, I said, 'We don't want the miners to know we are looking into what they're doing, Joey. If it's at all possible can you get us close to them without them seeing or hearing us. We don't mind if we have to walk the last bit.'
'No worries, mate. There's a ridge nearby, we can hide behind that.'
The drill site was not very far and Joey indicated that we should drive slowly when we were close. Eventually, he turned around and gave Tim the stop sign with his hand.
We climbed out of the car and closed the doors quietly. Joey led us a little further and then he ran ahead to scout the site. We followed and found him lying on his belly looking over a rocky ridge.
I crawled up as stealthily as I could and joined him, belly down on the hot parched earth. The heat that radiated though my body from the ground was almost painful. How Joey could go barefoot over terrain like this was beyond my understanding. Then I noticed he had chosen a sizable tuft of grass to lie down on. The stupid guy with him hadn't thought of that.
Tim and Truf joined us at the rim of the ridge and we found ourselves looking down into a small compound that was cordoned off with a temporary wire fence about eight foot high.
Inside the fence stood a large truck with a huge drilling rig attached to its rear-end. The truck's motor was bellowing and blowing puffy black smoke out of its exhaust. So much for our need to be quiet. I counted four men working the rig. A pile of long pipes was stacked beside the fence and as we watched two of the men walked over and took one of the pipes from the stack and carried it back to the truck. On the far side of the compound I could see two dingy caravans and a couple of cars. In a far corner sat about ten drums that looked very much like the ones we had just been looking at a few minutes ago.
'Why would they just discard the other drums, when they clearly need them at this drill site?' I asked Truf.
'Search me. It makes no sense at all. The chemicals are expensive. The only thing I can guess is the other containers were damaged in some way and too risky to transport. Obviously there are procedures that should be followed if that were the case. Dumping them in a hole in the ground is not one of them.'
As we watched two of the men had attached a chain to one end of the pipe they had brought over to the truck and it was being hoisted up to the top of the rig. One of the men jumped up and worked the suspended pipe over the one that was just sticking out of the hole they were drilling. His mate joined him and they began to thread the two pipes together, the top one acting like a nut being screwed onto a bolt. When they were satisfied with the join, one of them gave the man at the control panel the thumbs up signal. The motor revved loudly and the pipe began to rotate and slowly drilled its way further into the earth.
'They must all live in those two caravans,' Tim suggested.
'Nah,' Joey chipped in. 'The big boss bloke drives back to town every day.'
'Have they drilled any other holes, Joey?' Truf asked.
'Nah, just these two.'
Truf loo
ked at him questioningly and was about to query his tiny local expert, when he noticed the look on Joey's face. 'That doesn't make any sense,' he said, turning his attention to me. 'They've been working this lease for over two years. Even if they were drilling through solid granite all the way they'd have more wells to show than just these two. Something stinks here, and it's not just the billabong.'
Joey watched the two of us with interest. He had picked up that when any technical questions needed to be answered we directed them to Truf.
Down at the drill site something was happening. The motor had suddenly been shut down and we could hear yelling. A fifth man had appeared and was giving instructions to the other four. He was stocky and wore a broad hat which covered his face. He must have been working in one of the caravans and was clearly unhappy with something the men were doing.
He went to the man who was working the control panel and grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him away from the machine. He leaned in and examined the dials and tapped one to check it wasn't stuck. Then he turned and yelled at the operator he'd just attacked. The worker slunk away and joined his mates. They were all obviously fearful of the man and stood in a bunch and watched him as he adjusted knobs on the panel.
The boss had clearly worked up a sweat with his sudden burst of anger and activity. He took off his hat and used his sleeve to wipe his sweat-soaked brow. Then he turned to the men and yelled at them once again. They quickly headed off to one of the caravans.
The boss turned back to the panel and as he did we got a glimpse of his face. We all looked at each other, wide-eyed. We knew that face.
It belonged to Felix the pool table hogger and fellow guest at the Drover's Dog.
As we walked back to the Land Cruiser Joey walked beside Truf. 'You the boss man, here?' he asked.
'No Joey. Nobody is the boss here.'
'But these two fellas always ask you what's goin on with those blokes who make holes in the ground.' He pointed back to the compound where the workers were in the process of getting another pipe ready.
'Remember when we were saying how important school is, Joey?' Truf said, giving his best impersonation of a teacher addressing a student.
Joey nodded.
'Well, the school I went to taught me all about what those men are doing with their drilling equipment, and all about the things that rocks contain that are valuable.'
'Rocks are good - I like 'em,' Joey said with enthusiasm. 'Sharp ones are really good. I can get baby wallabies with 'em from about thirty feet away. Dong 'em right on the bloody head and he falls over, then I grab 'em and stick 'em in the chest,' he held up his pointed stick and grinned, showing his pearly-white teeth. 'My dad taught me that.'
The three of us showed our appreciation of his talents by nodding to him. It sounded brutal, but we all realized that we city dwellers, had long ago been desensitized from the actual capture and preparation of the meat we ate. The process was just a variant of Joey's method, but took place behind closed doors. All we saw was the nicely packaged piece of meat in the supermarket or butcher shop.
'I have my two lucky rocks in here,' he said as he reached into his bag and brought out two jagged rocks, both about the size of an apple.
I'm no expert but I could tell from their off-white, opaque color they were quartz. He held them up so we could see the crisp, sharp edges. I imagined them crashing into the skull of an animal and could see how effective they would be. I decided I was more than happy to have this ten year old kid as my protector in this harsh land. I wasn't sure if he actually was ten but for simplicity sake I had settled on that number. Nine was taken after all.
Joey stopped suddenly and instinctively we all did, too. Joey held his finger up to his mouth, indicating that we should be quiet. Then he held up his palm to make us stay put. Nine had seen the change in Joey and knew what this meant. His ears pricked up and he scanned the area around him, sniffing as he did. Joey eased his way forward. The only thing of note that I could see was a small tree about ten feet tall. It was suffering from the drought and had hardly any leaves. I could see nothing that would be of interest to Joey. The three of us exchanged glances, clearly we had no idea what was going on.
Nine had been given no instruction but he knew instinctively to pad gently beside his master. Knowing he would be given the command to spring into action when the time arrived. The tree was Joey's focus apparently, as he headed straight for it in a quiet, stealthy manner that would be the envy of any professional hunter. He held the two rocks that he was showing us when he had suddenly spotted his prey. Prey that we still couldn't even see. He slowly raised his right arm and held it poised at the apex of his throwing arc. Suddenly the base of the tree exploded in a cloud of dust accompanied with a loud scratching noise as a small animal darted into the nearby grass. Before it had reached the cover Joey had launched his missile at it and it made a dull thwack sound as it crashed into the earth. Before the rock had even landed Joey had transferred the second rock into his throwing hand and was in the process of delivering it in the direction of the animal. An animal that none of us useless city boys had even seen, let alone identified.
The second rock crashed into the ground in almost the exact same spot as the first and Joey leaped into the air. 'Got the bugger...!' he yelled as he pumped the air in victory. Nine charged across the ground, covering it in less than a second. He barked once and growled as he reached the area where all the activity had taken place. He kept going a short distance into the grass before returning with a large lizard in his mouth. It was black, with a thin white lacy diamond shaped pattern all over it and much larger than the one Joey had delivered for lunch. This one was almost three feet long and nine could only carry it by biting onto one of its front legs. Its tail made a sharp line in the soft earth as he half-carried, half-dragged it back to Joey.
How the hell could I have missed seeing something that big?
Nine was given no praise for his retrieval work. Joey simply nodded and the dog dropped his prize to the ground. I noticed the poor lizard had a large gash at the base of its head and another half way down its back. The blow to the head had been enough to kill it. I had no idea which rock had been the killing one, but I suspected that Joey's skill would almost guarantee that it was the first one. Never-the-less I made a conscious decision to never cross my little protector. I now understood why he was allowed to roam the countryside alone. Joey was a pint-size Arnie - Sylvester, come Jackie Chan and I would seriously fear for the safety of any would-be nut-job, abductor who decided he'd found an easy prey in little Joey.
He picked up his capture and held it for us to admire. His pride and glee evident for all to see. 'He's a beauty, eh? A Lacie.. bloody good tucker. Lots of meat.'
My Google searches of things that should be included in my paranoia list, had brought up goannas. As a result, I knew that Joey had caught a Lace Monitor Lizard. I hadn't added it to my list of killers, because it wasn't a killer. If it bit you you'd need antibiotics for sure, and if you managed to grab one in the wrong way, its lethal three inch claws would give a doctor a lot of practice at stitching. Google had not advised me that they were "bloody good tucker".
Lacie wouldn't fit in Joey's bag, so he draped it around his shoulders as he went to retrieve his two favorite rocks. He found them and used a tuft of grass to wipe the blood off them.
Truf was watching him intently.
'Could I have a look at your special rocks, Joey?'
He handed them over, clearly a little concerned that Truf might try and steal his favorite weapons.
I watched Truf as he turned them over in his hand, his eyes were wide with surprise and I could see why. I'm not a geologist, but I didn't need to be, the thick seam of bright yellow material that ran through both of them was enough of a clue for even me to know it was gold.
These are very special rocks, Joey,' Truf said, casting a glance at me.
'I know. Bloody good sharp rocks,' Joey concluded.
Truf looked ques
tioningly at both Tim and me. Tim was also aware of what we were looking at. I gave a gentle shake of my head to Truf and I think he got the message I was sending. Tim, I wasn't so sure about, so I said. 'Remember how Warra looks after his booty from his art works? We have totally different values.' I'd hoped the use of the word booty was code enough to slip by Joey. I hoped the same wasn't true for Tim. He looked at me and looked about to say something so I gave him an urgent little shake of my head. I think he finally understood he should shut up.
Joey was watching us suspiciously. He'd seen the head shakes and had picked up something. He just didn't know what.
'You're right, Joey. They are bloody good rocks. But only when you throw them. I don't think any of us would even be able to hit the tree, let alone get the monitor lizard smack on the top of his head. You must be the best thrower in your tribe.'
Joey was pleased at being recognized as a great hunter and smiled proudly to me. 'Me dads pretty bloody good, too.'
I think what I'd said had deflected any suspicion that Joey had harbored that we were thinking of stealing his rocks, so I moved to the question we were all dying to ask. 'They are very pretty rocks. Do you remember were you found them, Joey?'
He looked at me with his now familiar "of course.. are you stupid?" look, and said, 'Yep.'
Truf couldn't contain himself any longer. 'Would you take us there, Joey?'
Suspicion returned to his face. He sensed he was missing something and he seemed to be trying to work it out but he was too young to make any sense out of it.
