A Girl Called Ari

by P. J. Sky

  Maybe I’ll be back?

  She thought of the beads and the bits of broken pottery, sitting where she’d left them, and the chalk figures. Had she deliberately left these items behind, preserving some kind of home she could always return to? You could hate a place for so long, and yet when the day comes to leave it, you miss it before you’ve even gone. And Starla, already so weak, would she really make it?

  Ari chewed on her bottom lip, a hollow feeling growing in her stomach. She thought of the long, hard days toiling on the salt plains, and the cold nights shivering alone in a cave; the feeling of barely being alive at all. Then she thought of the city, hovering in her mind’s eye like a shimmering mirage, forever slightly out of focus. Could she still remember the layout of that apartment? Was her room still there, to find again? Sealed all these years, awaiting her return.

  The cave, Cooper; these things will only hold you down Ari. So good riddance to it all. I ain’t never coming back.

  But still, the hollow feeling nagged her.

  Chapter 6

  “Starla, I don’t know why you love this place so.” Liviana Panache toyed with her fingers. “It smells.”

  “You didn’t have to come here,” replied Starla. “It was your choice.”

  “Yes,” said Liviana absently. Today, Liviana was so blonde her hair was almost white. Tonight she might be something else, but today she was blonde. These erratic transformations complemented her personality. Liviana would try to be many things, yet wound up archiving none of them.

  The grey koala clung to the ash white trunk with its six fingers and four thumbs. Its lazy black eyes, like two glass spheres, were half closed. One of its bushy ears twitched.

  The koala didn’t do anything, it never did. Koala’s spent their lives asleep.

  Just like me, thought Starla.

  They don’t go anywhere except here or there, and here might as well be there. Starla liked bringing Liviana to the koala enclosure, she suspected the creatures bored Liviana more than the rest of the animals. The lions and tigers prowled back and forth, the monkey’s chattered and leaped from tree to tree, but the koala’s stayed were they were. Perhaps they, better than the other animals, understood the true nature of the zoo. There was nowhere else to go.

  “You know that guard’s been watching us,” said Liviana.

  “They’re always watching us.”

  The koala slowly blinked. For a moment, Starla thought it was about to yawn. Gradually, its pink lips parted, but then it seemed to think better of it.

  “Not like that guard,” said Liviana. “He’s been staring right at you.”

  “What guard?”

  “By the pavilion.”

  As Starla looked up, the guard looked away. He was young, with sandy blonde hair, and wore the crisp, light blue uniform of the praetorian guard.

  The guards weren’t meant to stare. They were always there, but they weren’t meant to stare.

  “Maybe he’s got as thing for you? You should report him.”

  “I guess,” said Starla, as she turned back to the koala enclosure and the guard faded from her mind.

  ∆∆∆

  They said nothing for a long time after leaving Cooper and this suited Ari. Starla covered her head with the shawl and held the lead of the dog loosely. The dog walked obediently at her heels. Ahead, the land shimmered in a hot haze. At first the ground was rocky, as it was around Cooper, but gradually it gave way to an endless red dust, flat and featureless to the horizon.

  They followed a trail out to the old railway line. Twisted and bowed, the metal tracks had warped under the blistering sun. Beneath the rolling dust, sections of the line disappeared entirely, only to reappear further along the trail. Here and there, the concrete sleepers were just visible.

  “Who built this?” asked Starla.

  Ari shrugged. “Dunno. But we follow it.”

  “It goes to the city?”

  “Maybe once. Now it only takes us part way. It don’ cut through the swamp see. It goes another way.”

  They followed the tracks north. The landscape was eerily silent, with only the sound of the wind working its way across the flat emptiness to interrupt their thoughts. Ari thought of the town of Cooper, perhaps she’d grown more used to the place than she’d realised. The steady work, the bread and water, a place to rest her head. Routine can go a long way to making a place a home. And out here, the mind played tricks. There wasn’t enough to see, so the mind drew its own pictures. Ari thought of the Angu woman she’d seen yesterday, bent over, working the salt with a pickaxe. She’d be there now, filling her buckets. She’d be there tomorrow too, and the day that followed, and the day after that. At dusk she’d make her way to Wheels who would be sitting in his wheelchair in the shade and he’d hand her a few more half-moon coins. Maybe one or two less than he had the year before.

  Digging the salt, filling the buckets; one more foot in front of the other, eyes on the tracks as they cut through the emptiness. Today is a day, just as yesterday and the one that came before.

  Would Wheels wonder where I am today?

  Starla took a long swig from her canteen.

  “Careful with the water,” said Ari. “No water out ‘ere. What we got, it’s gotta last us a while.”

  “There’s no more wells?”

  “Nope. Not this way. Maybe a billabong if we’re lucky an’ it’s not dry, but until the swamp we just gotta make what we got.”

  It ain’t rained in a long time, thought Ari, and no sign it will anytime soon.

  There were no thunderheads on the horizon, just a pale blue sky that met a shimmering flat line at the edge of the world.

  Ari wiped the sweat from her shaved head, inhaled deeply, and licked her dry lips. No salt out here at least. She was used to this; she didn’t need much water. This wasn’t so for Starla; she’d need more rations and Ari carried far more water than she alone needed. Enough, hopefully, for Starla. Their destinies were bound, and there was no going back on this one. Ari had made this journey twice before. It was third time lucky, she wasn’t doing this again.

  They trudged onwards in silence. Further down the tracks, the foot-high remains of a building protruded out of the dust. On the tracks, on six sets of metal wheels, sat a huge piece of rusting machinery. A twisted panel on its side bowed open exposing metal bowels like the innards of some mechanised beast. The wind whispered around its many surfaces, blowing wisps of red dust into the air. Further on along the tracks sat a strange marker; a cross attached to a bent metal pole. On either side, a vague trail was just visible, running at right angles in either direction from the railway.

  Ari and Starla pushed on, following the metal tracks through the red dust.

  ∆∆∆

  The silence deafened Starla. Ahead, clouds of red dust rolled over the tracks.

  Starla couldn’t remember ever being anywhere so quiet. Her heart skipped quickly and the walls around her chest felt thin. She could hear blood pumping around her eardrums, along with the slightest high-pitched ring of tinnitus. She listened to the crunch of the dry dirt underfoot. Her ill-fitting boots pinched and rubbed; her foot tripped on a stone and she almost lost her balance. Her eyes teared and, with the back of her hand, she tried to wipe away the grit. Through the blur, she watched the gently swaying figure of Ari.

  She thinks she’s better than me.

  Starla heard it in the tone of Ari’s voice and in the way she gave her orders. She watched the back of Ari’s exposed neck; her shaved head gently swayed and gleamed in the sunlight.

  She doesn’t know her station. But you need her Starla.

  It took all Starla’s efforts to maintain normal discourse with the girl. Her head now spun and thoughts and ideas were blurring together. When she closed her eyes, she saw the old man licking his lips.

  “He said she’s worth something.”

  That’s what the other man had said. She remembered the gun, pressed up against the old man’s temple, and her heartbeat ring
ing in her ears and the sour stench of the old man’s breath. Now she was out in the open, she wanted to hide, to squeeze into some tiny crack and stay there until this was all over. She wanted to be back in the cave. She longed for protective surfaces to squeeze around her. Instead, there was only the red dust and the long abandoned tracks.

  Starla remembered the paintings in the city archive. Lush fields, green valleys, waterfalls.

  How, she wondered, could I have ever wanted to leave the city? How could I ever imagine the outside as anything but this?

  Starla’s tacky skin itched. She longed to dive into clear water

  She studied the back of Ari’s neck. She wanted to leap out and strangle her, to squeeze out the life, to take back control of this hideous situation.

  Why did I let her bring me here? This is all her fault. The more I think on it, the more I see it. I should abandon her.

  But, then I’d be alone. Alone and sick.

  I hate this girl. How dare she make me feel this helpless?

  She closed her eyes and saw Max grinning. That sideways grin, as if one side of his face disagreed with the other. “To hell with them all.” That’s what he’d said.

  Father, Liviana, the whole lot of them. I wish Max would come and save me. Prove himself worthy. That would be better than this. Then maybe I’d reconsider?

  She saw her fish, swimming in its bowl of water, its bulbous eyes peering up at her. Her mouth salivated.

  Starla opened her canteen and took a swig of water. It tasted metallic. Little white stars formed across her vision. She tightened her grip on the cord.

  Am I leading the dog or is the dog leading me? Either way, he should have a name. Why did I never name the fish?

  Starla’s heart was pounding. Her vision blurred and she tried again to concentrate on the skinny figure of Ari, moving further ahead now, the bulky sack on her back wobbling from side to side. Starla stumbled, her feet twisting in the boots. She was so sleepy.

  Starla’s head began to swim. She stopped walking and, for a moment, was quite happy to watch the figure of Ari separate into two distinct forms. The world seemed to be tipping upside down.

  ∆∆∆

  Starla collapsed and the dog barked.

  Chapter 7

  There was nothing to burn on the dust plains. It would be a cold, dark night by the tracks.

  Ari spared a little water to moisten Starla’s forehead and lips. She laid out the salt sacks on the ground in the approximation of two beds; a sack each to lie on and another to sleep under. She used Starla’s rolled up dress as a pillow for her head and moved her onto her bed. Ari wasn’t sure the dog was ready to be let off its lead, she didn’t want it to go running back to Cooper, and so she tied the cord to her wrist. Lying on her bed, Starla murmured occasionally but didn’t really become conscious until the big red sun was setting over the horizon and the air began to grow cool.

  “Here, put this on,” said Ari, offering the jumper.

  “What happened?”

  “Ya collapsed. It’s the heat.”

  “My head hurts.”

  “Ya need to eat, ya need water, and ya need to sleep. We’re gonna stay ‘ere tonight.”

  Ari tore one of the pieces of flatbread in half and then broke away a bit of the jerky.

  “Here, eat these. Ya have to eat.”

  “This all we got.”

  “No, I’m hidin’ the syntho cubes. Yeah, it’s all we got.”

  Little miss ungrateful, thought Ari, don’t she know how hard food is to come by here? But, she’ll get you into the city. This girl just needs to wise up, that’s all.

  She took the other half of the flatbread and began chewing on it hungrily. She gulped it down with a swig of water and it tasted good.

  Starla took the bread and jerky. She chewed unhappily on the bread.

  “Drink some water too or ya gonna die out ‘ere.”

  Starla did what she was told.

  The dog had been lying on the ground since Ari had made camp but now it sat up and gazed with concentration at the horizon. It sniffed at the air and then it froze completely, its ears pricked.

  “What’s with the dog?” asked Starla.

  “It knows somethin’s out there.”

  “What’s there?”

  “The dingoes.”

  “What’s the dingoes anyway?”

  Ari smiled painfully. “They’re about the most dangerous thin’ out ‘ere. Not really a problem in the day but at night. They’ll snatch ya right up while ya sleep. An’ we ain’t got much chance if they attack.”

  “But we got the dog.”

  “Yeah, mutt ‘ere wouldn’t be much cop in a fight with one but the dingoes don’t like other dogs see. It should keep ‘em away. That’s why it’s workin’ for its keep.”

  Starla took the jerky and held it out to the dog, who without argument swallowed it whole.

  “What the hell ya doin’?” said Ari.

  “He needs to eat.”

  “Like hell it does. Ya know how little we got of that? Dog can find its own food.”

  “Not tied up he can’t.”

  “It can an’ it will. Don’t ya worry about it sister. Dog knows what to do ‘ere better ‘an you. An’ dog don’t need to eat every day, you do. Dag it, Starla.”

  Ari kicked at the dust. This girl really needed to wise up. They didn’t have enough food to start feeding dogs. She hunkered down onto her salt sack, dragging the dog on its lead, and pulled the other sack over her. She lay back and looked up to the sky. Stars like tiny embers had started to appear; little points of light that even night couldn’t snuff out. Her eyes lingered on the Maker star, motionless above. The others moved, but not the Maker star. It looked right down at you, seeing all you did, for good or bad.

  Ari heard Starla pull over her salt sack and sniff.

  “Get some sleep sister.”

  Starla said nothing and for a time they both lay in silence. Still the dog sat upright, looking to the horizon, barely moving, occasionally sniffing the air. The big moon rose overhead and the world was bathed in a silver glow.

  A low whining howl broke the silence. It sounded quiet and far away. Then another joined it.

  The night song of the dingoes; make sure tonight it’s not for you.

  Ari shivered under her salt sack and hugged herself closer.

  Starla whispered, “Those the dingoes?”

  “Yeah,” said Ari. “Those are the dingoes.”

  Chapter 8

  “I understand you were outside without an escort again,” her father said. She couldn’t see his face, hidden in the shadows of her bedroom. It was late. He sat in a chair at the end of her bed, his head bowed, one hand playing with his chin. Starla sat up in bed.

  “My dear, what if you had been abducted?”

  Starla awakened and wondered where she was. Remembering, she pulled the salt sack closer and shivered. Her head hurt and her stomach grumbled. She remembered the old man licking his lips and she shuddered and was no longer hungry. She scrunched up her body, hugged her knees, and lay there a long time.

  The following morning, as soon as the sun was up, Ari started packing up the camp. Starla sat on a rail, holding the lead of the dog, and chewed unhappily at a bit of the jerky. It tasted of salt, it stuck in her throat, and it made her thirstier.

  “What is this stuff?” asked Starla.

  Ari shrugged and stuffed one salt sack into another. “Kangaroo I think.”

  Starla spat the meat onto the ground and grimaced. “It’s animals?”

  The dog dipped its head and licked up the partly chewed jerky.

  “Yeah, what did ya think it was? Could be camel or even dingo of course.”

  Bile rose in Starla’s throat. She leaned over the rail and retched emptily. Her throat hurt and her head spun.

  Ari rolled up the jumpers and the dress and stuffed them into the sack.

  “Ya gonna ‘ave to eat somethin’ proper soon,” she said.

  Sta
rla looked at the dog. He looked back at her with kindly eyes and tipped his head. Today he seemed calm and alert, unconcerned with the dingoes that last night he’d listened for so intently. Starla had also listened to the howls; they’d sounded remote and lonely, and far away. Starla ruffled the bristly fur on the top of his head.

  “I’m not going to eat animals.”

  “Well, dunno what else ya gonna eat out ‘ere. Bread’ll be finished soon.”

  They continued their journey in silence. Ari walked ahead, carrying the bag, Starla stumbled behind, the dog at her heels. She dragged her aching limbs, the balls of her feat throbbed. The world looked the same, a vast unchanging emptiness.

  Frequently, she took big swigs from her canteen. Her moist clothes stuck to her tacky skin. Starla had refilled her canteen that morning, and when, sometime later, she finally broke the silence to ask for more water, all Ari could say was, “Already?” But Ari stopped, and Starla sat down on the rail while Ari refilled the canteen.

  “Do we follow these tracks much further?” asked Starla.

  Ari paused and looked each way. “I dunno.” She took a swig from her canteen. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

  Sometime later, they came across a dusty collection of discarded items spread carelessly across their path. Initially, Starla didn’t recognise what she was looking at. She followed the knobbly ends of long, sweeping femurs to a prickly, snake-like vertebrae; images from a school lesson only half absorbed. The collapsed ribcage looked like it might have once housed an ornamental bird that had long escaped through the broken bars. Finally, her eyes met the smooth, bald skull, the jaw half buried in the red dust, the eye sockets hollow and empty. A shiver ran down her spine.

  “Is that a person?”

  “Yeah,” said Ari. “That’s a fella alright. I reckon he’s felt better though.”

  Picked dry, its yellow bones exposed and explored, little bits of fabric still clung between its joints. The dog sniffed a fibula.

  “An’ that’ll be us if we’re not careful,” added Ari. “Ya can go for days out ‘ere without seein’ no one.”