The Silent Country (19 page)

‘This is between Topov and me.’

Peter nodded understandingly. ‘We’re going to look at the stars. C’mon, Colin.’

Colin grabbed his jumper and a torch from his chair and followed Peter who strode away from the fire.

‘Leave them to it. This has been brewing for a long time.’

‘Topov has had quite a few rums, will he get aggressive?’ worried Colin.

‘Yes. But he’s all hot air and shouting. So is Drago. Yugoslav emotion. Topov will go to sleep before he gets physical. Let’s explore. Do you know astronomy?’

‘No. Do you? Here, let me go first, I have a torch.’

‘No. It’s better to see by the stars, get your eyes accustomed, turn out the torch,’ said Peter.

Colin did so and in a few moments realised he could see more around him in the silvery light than by following the small yellow pool of torchlight. Peter climbed over flat rocks, past large boulders, around some of the massive boulders until they were on a slight rise and could see the chessboard of giant marbles placed around them. He sat down and leaned against a large rock. Colin joined him.

‘I was half expecting you to lean back and push that rock away,’ Colin said. ‘They seem so lightly balanced that a push from a finger could dislodge them.’

They settled themselves and sat in silence. Peter lit a cigarette as they gazed at the brilliant constellations.

‘You know these? Orion’s belt . . .’

‘I call that one the saucepan. And of course, the Southern Cross. Even I can recognise that, but in the city you can’t see a night sky like this,’ said Colin.

‘I used to look at the stars a lot when I was sleeping out, hiding in the forests and around farms in the war,’ said Peter.

‘When you were in the Resistance? Was it to keep your bearings?’ asked Colin.

‘No. For companionship. I was mostly on my own on reconnaissance or carrying messages. You never knew who to trust, even so called friendly farmers, so I kept to myself. It was a lonely time.’

Colin nodded. This helped to explain why Peter was
still very reserved and solitary. ‘And here, in Australia, do you have any family?’

‘I have no family.’

‘So what will you do after this trip? I mean, why did you come along with Topov?’ asked Colin.

‘Why did you?’

Colin was silent a minute. ‘I thought it was a chance to get into the film business. Scriptwriting. But that’s looking less likely. I think now that it was an excuse. I just wanted an adventure to break the routine of my life.’

‘You’ve certainly done that. Will you go back to your life? The same job? The same safety?’ asked Peter.

‘I don’t know. I guess I have to see how this play ends.’ Colin smiled in the darkness.

‘The final curtain might be interesting. To see if Topov pulls the rabbit out of the hat.’

‘You think he’s a bit of a magician? He has a way of springing things on you. He seems a lucky person. Lands on his feet when he should be flat on his face,’ said Colin.

Peter didn’t smile at Colin’s description. ‘Topov is the actor amongst us. I don’t believe he is who he says he is.’

‘He’s not Maxim Topov? Who do you think he is?’ asked Colin, quite shocked.

‘Who knows? The name is immaterial. I don’t think he’s Russian, I don’t believe he’s a famous director and he doesn’t seem to know much about cameras and film.’

‘Well, I agree Drago seems to know a lot more about cinematography . . . But Topov is the reason we all came along! Madame Olga would know about him, surely, or she wouldn’t have helped him. She’s put up money too. And he seems really committed to make this film,’ added Colin. ‘We have to give him a chance.’

In the darkness he couldn’t make out Peter’s expression
but he felt the Dutchman was smiling, which was a rare occurrence.

‘You’re right Colin. I’m trained to be suspicious of people’s motives. We’re here, we’ve all invested in this project in some way – money, time, effort. We all want this to work. We shall see what tomorrow morning and those that follow bring.’ He stood up and started to climb back through the rocks.

Colin was thoughtful and realised that the taciturn Dutchman still really hadn’t revealed anything of substance about himself. But his doubts about Topov seemed a bit extreme. In the dwindling moonlight the rocks looked soft, spongy, as if a strong breeze would send them blowing away like tumbleweeds. A light cloud suddenly obscured the stars. Colin had started following Peter who suddenly stopped.

‘I don’t recall seeing that rock formation. Did we come this way?’

Colin hadn’t been paying attention. ‘I’m not sure.’ Suddenly he felt they were surrounded by forbidding shapes that were blocking their way, closing in on them and silently observing them.

Peter looked up at the sky. ‘Can’t see the stars. We could walk around here for hours. Best we wait till daylight.’

‘You have matches. If we light a fire, the others might see us.’

‘It will keep us warm.’

By torchlight they gathered enough wood to make a small fire and huddled into a crevice in front of it. With their jumpers tight around them, they tried to sleep.

The next morning, at first light, Colin and Peter easily found their way back to the camp. It appeared that no-one, apart from Topov and Helen, had slept well that night. The ground had been hard and the night chilly. But at dawn
everyone forgot their discomfort as they watched, mesmerised, the sun glowing as it rose over the strange rock-strewn scene, changing it from harsh outlines to soft pink and lavender that then hardened to diamond sharp brilliance.

Drago tried to capture as much of the exquisite scene as he could, moving the bulky camera with Johnny’s help to the best positions. A sleepy Topov emerged from the caravan and, as the fire was stoked under the billy, Helen also stepped out looking businesslike and purposeful.

‘We must move on, this has delayed us.’

No-one answered her as everyone was discussing Colin and Peter’s night among the rocks.

‘It was a bit spooky,’ said Colin. ‘And at first we didn’t sleep well as there was all this scuttling about.’

‘Lizards. Lots of strange little ones in the rocks,’ said Peter. ‘And the tracks of quite a big one.’

‘Should we see if we can find it? Goanna over the coals for breakfast?’ suggested Johnny.

‘I’ll toast the stale bread, thanks,’ said Marta.

Topov plonked himself in a chair to await a mug of coffee. ‘Drago did good. Do like Topov say.’

Everyone ignored the comment.

They were still south of Tennant Creek when later that morning, they came across a group of Aboriginal people walking beside the road. The men wore torn shorts, the women faded and ragged dresses. All were barefoot and carried string bags. They looked scruffy and unhealthy. They stared sullenly at the cars as the group pulled over. Topov greeted them heartily but they simply stared at him.

‘Maybe they don’t understand his accent. You talk to them, Colin,’ said Helen.

Colin stepped forward and introduced himself, then asked, ‘Where are you from?’

One of the men jerked his head to where a single track wound westwards.

‘Is there a town, a settlement, over there?’

‘Camp,’ muttered the man. ‘Where you go?’

‘Darwin. Is it far to Tennant Creek?’

The man shrugged. ‘Little bit long way.’

‘Ask him if we can go see their camp,’ said Drago.

‘Can we drive to your camp? Are many people there?’

The man shrugged again and said something to the others. Another man shook his head.

Topov butted in. ‘We make moving picture. We take pictures, okay?’ He lifted the Bolex.

At this one of the younger women, who despite the dust and dirt might have been considered pretty with her large dark eyes and matted curls, stuck out her hand saying, ‘Two bob.’

‘She wants money! Like heck,’ said Johnny.

‘Let’s go,’ said Marta.

But Topov would not be deflected. ‘Drago and me take Jeep, go look. Colin, you come. Do talk.’

As they returned to the vehicles the Aborigines silently headed off the road, walking slowly into the scrubby landscape. They took no notice as the Jeep followed them. Within a mile Colin saw the glint of sun on tin and figures moving about but as the Jeep drew near, the Aborigines stood and stared. There was one building, merely sheets of iron nailed to rough-hewn posts. Its floor had tattered blankets spread on the dirt. The solitary wall was made of sheets of iron tacked together to act as a wind break. Other sheets of corrugated iron were bent over the ground forming small shelters where one or two adults could sit. Other humpies in the camp were made of branches and bark.

Scattered around were the remains of several campfires and a lot of rubbish and bottles. Emaciated dogs scratched about or lay in the dirt. Everyone was partly clad in an assortment of cast-offs. The women sitting
outside their bark shelters wore strips of skirts, their bare breasts hung, wrung dry and their ribs were etched on their shrinking skin.

Everyone looked dejected, unhealthy and filthy. A few pans, a kerosene tin with wire as a handle, lay beside the fire, but there were no other amenities of any kind.

‘This is terrible. Horrible,’ said Drago. ‘We can’t film this.’

‘Poor people,’ said Topov. ‘Yes, take picture. We show world Aborigines worse than peasant.’

Colin was embarrassed and shocked. If he had thought about it at all, he had imagined Aborigines as still strong tribal people or settled in missions. Reluctantly Drago filmed the depressing scene from a distance, using the telephoto lens, but nobody seemed to notice or care. When he had finished filming they turned the Jeep around and followed the tracks back to the others.

Closer to town they saw a mission and paused. It was surrounded by a fence with barbed wire on top and inside there was a neat church and a row of what looked to be dormitory buildings. Aboriginal children were lined up outside them and were being addressed by two nuns. The children looked clean and well cared for. Despite the surrounds being treeless and bare, creating a seemingly soulless place, it was certainly better than the camp they’d seen.

‘That’s why there were no children in that camp,’ said Colin softly.

‘Good idea church to look after children,’ said Topov.

‘I suppose they think it will help the children,’ said Colin.

‘It’s better than that dismal camp. They live like dogs there,’ said Drago.

‘What are we going to find in Arnhem Land?’ wondered Colin.

‘People stay wild. More better,’ said Topov.

‘I hope so,’ said Drago vehemently.

Tennant Creek was what they’d come to expect of outback towns – a wide dusty street, some pubs, a few buildings and scattered houses, but Topov became hugely enthusiastic the moment he spotted the mine heads that edged the town.

Anticipating some money from the bank, everyone booked into one of the town’s hotels and luxuriated in a hot bath, a bed with a mattress and hearty country cooking. The hotel was, by Helen and Marta’s standards, not the cleanest but it was a welcome change from camping. After they had all freshened up, Helen went to the bank, the men hit the bar, while Colin and Marta walked up Battery Hill to look at one of the ore crushing plants. Topov disappeared.

When they got back Colin and Marta sat outside the hotel on a bench having a glass of beer and Helen, looking annoyed and flushed, joined them.

‘Women are second-class people in this country,’ said Marta. ‘I’m glad you’ve joined us Helen. The ladies’ lounge is awful.’

‘I suppose I might as well have a gin and tonic seeing as we’re all in a mess now.’ She sighed and sat down.

‘What’s wrong, Helen?’ asked Marta. ‘Is there a problem with the money?’

‘You might say so. It hasn’t come through.’

‘Why not? Madame Olga was supposed to send it. Why hasn’t she sent it? What are we going to do?’ said Marta with some heat. ‘Where is the money we put up?’

‘I just telephoned her, reverse charges and she says it will be in Darwin when we get there. That doesn’t help us here.’

‘We didn’t think we had to pay our own expenses,’ said Marta. ‘That wasn’t part of the arrangement.’ She looked as though she didn’t know whether to cry or throw something.

‘It will get sorted out. It’s hard for me as business manager, of course,’ said Helen. ‘I don’t know how we’ll get to Darwin without any money.’

‘Maybe we should be leaving in the middle of the night,’ said Marta darkly.

‘Please don’t say anything to the others just yet. Let’s see what happens,’ said Helen. ‘I don’t appreciate being left in the lurch like this.’

Topov didn’t reappear until dark and then, having eschewed a hotel room, he disappeared into the caravan parked behind the hotel. When Topov and Helen walked into the hotel together, Colin, Marta and Johnny were seated in the hotel dining room, a basic but clean establishment. Topov was clearly in an expansive mood, jovial and loud, but as Helen rested her hand on his arm and whispered something, he brushed her aside and strode into the bar where a few men were drinking.