The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring (9 page)

"I realise that times have changed, and for the better, but I don't think we've ever been the kind of people who would have felt ashamed of it."

Martin nodded. "Then – sorry – but what's your connection with this Dreaming site you mentioned?"

Dave told the story again, of how Charlie's friend had been the last of his tribe, and he'd passed the songs and stories to Charlie rather than let them be lost.

"And there's no chance that your mate Charlie has some kind of family connection with the tribe? Anything at all?"

"I wouldn't have thought so … No. I mean, that's the point, isn't it? His friend was already crossing the line in passing the songs to Charlie. And now Charlie seems to think I'm more entitled to them than he is."

Martin frowned in confusion. "Why exactly is that? I mean … if you don't mind me asking."

So Dave explained how Charlie hadn't been able to find the sacred site, but Dave had; and how Charlie had become convinced that Dave was the rightful custodian of the waterhole, especially once he'd discovered that Dave had been born in Cunnamulla, and conceived nearby as well. "So, you see," Dave concluded, "I've kind of inherited this in a … well, in a
spiritual
sense, yeah?" His face flamed. This was worse than talking about sex or love. "Not in the sense of bloodlines."

Martin considered him thoughtfully for long moments. Finally he said, "You seem sincere about this."

"Yeah, I am," he replied in easy tones despite the fact his face was still bright red.

"And you actually go there and perform the rituals every now and then?"

"Yes, of course. We haven't missed even one. Sometimes Charlie comes, too. Sometimes I go on my own. Well, with my – husband."

Martin didn't blink at that latest revelation. After a moment, he simply said, "Mr Goring Taylor –"

"Dave."

"Dave. I don't know what to tell you. It's remarkable that you've taken this responsibility so seriously. But – the Native Title Act is designed to recognise the traditional owners of the land, and their biological descendants."

"Ah."

"They are required to have continued to practise the traditional customs associated with that area, just as you have done, but –"

"No, I get it," said Dave, hardly able to bear hearing any more. "I've been naïve again, haven't I?"

"Not naïve," Martin protested. "In an ideal world –"

"Okay, so there's no chance," Dave concluded heavily.

"I'm afraid the right to claim, as the law currently stands, would have extinguished with the death of the last member of that tribe. If we tried to claim on the basis of a … a spiritual inheritance, then I doubt we'd get very far. To be honest, I'd love to try – to test the concept. But even if the Federal Court took us seriously, they'd be wary of opening the floodgates. It would be setting a precedent for … well, for anyone to claim almost anything."

"I haven't invented this out of thin air," Dave argued. "I have a real concern for that waterhole. There's iron ore in the area, and a mining company has caught wind of it."

"You're …" Martin hesitated, and then asked almost apologetically, "You're interested in benefiting from the mining rights?"

"Not for myself, no, but if the Murri benefit from it, that's fine. I'm just wanting to protect that place."

Martin looked as if he were desperate to help. "Native Title isn't the answer," he concluded. "I only wish it were."

"Not even Charlie could claim Native Title?" Nicholas asked that evening.

"No biological connection," Dave confirmed. The three of them were sitting around the table in the family room, comparing notes about their days.

"So, what do we try next?"

Dave sighed. "The only real idea Martin and I came up with was to extend the reserve to include the area surrounding the waterhole. In which case, I can help, but it would have to be Thursday and his mob who make that happen."

"Well, that's all right, isn't it?"

"If it's made part of the reserve, then the people who live there will have a say in what happens, and they'll have the power to negotiate with a mining company. But there are plenty of locals who'll be happy for the work coming in – white fellas, Indigenous, or anyone else – and I can't say as I blame them. So I still feel like … well, like we need to do more to protect the waterhole itself, you know?"

"We might be able to help there. Do you want to tell him, Robin?"

Robin abruptly went pink, and stuttered a bit before saying, "Dr Munroe –"

"Lisa," Nicholas explained to Dave.

"– said she'd love to come out to the waterhole with us. She asked if she could bring her partner."

Nicholas grimaced. "I didn't mean
that
bit, Robin. I'm sorry, David. I don't want to inundate the place with visitors."

"No, it's all right. I meant it about sharing."

"Go on, then, Robin," Nicholas said.

"W-w-well, Dr Munroe said she's very interested in the wattle, v-v-very interested indeed, and if it's rare then she can help protect it. And she asked if Nicholas had had the butterflies officially listed as ‘Vulnerable'."

Nicholas was nodding along with this, sitting back in his seat and looking overly casual. "I've been a bit of an idiot not to have thought of this before. But the waterhole always seemed – so very secluded. Safe. And there's a sense there that nothing's changed for thousands of years, and probably won't for thousands yet."

"I know," Dave agreed. "Don't worry, I know what you mean. So, what's this vulnerable thing about?"

"We can nominate the
Ogyris davidi
species to be listed as ‘Vulnerable' under the Nature Conservation Act. They're a textbook case, really." Nicholas counted off the points on his long fingers. "Their population is low; it's localised; it depends on a limited habitat; and that habitat might be at risk."

"Good," said Dave. "Okay. And once it's listed, what happens then?"

"Well, that opens up a number of possible activities, I suppose, but right now I'm thinking more about making it abundantly clear to any mining company that they can't just walk in and have everything their own way. If the waterhole is acknowledged as a Dreamtime site, in an Aboriginal reserve, with not one but two threatened species living there and nowhere else …" Nicholas grimaced and shrugged, throwing his hands out in a plea. "That would be a solid first step, wouldn't it?"

"It's perfect," said Dave. He got up and went to lean over Nicholas, and wrapped him up in a big grateful hug – which provoked a happy rumbling growl from Nicholas. "You're awesome," Dave said. "Both of you," he added, glancing across the table at Robin.

Dave expected to find Robin grimacing in distaste or rolling his eyes, but instead the young fella was looking rather indulgent. The probable reason seemed fairly obvious to Dave. "So …" he said, only loosening his hold on Nicholas enough so that they could all three converse. "Robin liked your mate Lisa, did he?"

Robin promptly blushed, but his smile was bright and uncomplicated. "She was cool," he asserted. "She's like Uncle Nicholas, you know?"

Nicholas grinned. "I'm cool, am I? Wonders will never cease."

"You're pretty cool," Robin agreed. "But the thing I like is … you and Dr Munroe are both tall, dark and super intelligent."

Dave had to stand then, as his burst of laughter would have threatened Nicholas's eardrums.

"Oh my God …" Nicholas was drawling. "Robin has a type …"

Dave and Nicholas were curled up together under the doona that night. It was late and dark, and Robin was probably sound asleep, but nevertheless they whispered. "He's got a crush on Lisa … ?" Dave asked.

"Completely smitten," Nicholas confirmed, huffing a laugh under his breath.

"No change on the sexual side of things, though."

"I asked him afterwards, and he announced that he's asexual and bi-romantic." Nicholas shrugged. "I still don't understand, but he insists that romantic attraction and sexual attraction are two completely separate things."

"I think maybe he's right. I think maybe they are."

"Well," Nicholas responded – though how he could still sound tart while whispering, Dave had no idea. "Well, then you'd better explain it to me."

Dave let out a sigh. "I don't have the words to talk about that kind of thing, Nicholas."

"Try. You might surprise yourself."

"Anyway," Dave continued, letting his hands caress their way further down Nicholas's lithe body, "call me greedy, but I like having both mixed up together."

"Best thing in the world, having both," Nicholas agreed. He stretched out a little taller, pushed in a little closer.

Dave slipped a hand down to cup Nicholas's balls – and his cock, too, while it was still at rest – and he rolled the delicious handful in his palm. Nicholas groaned quietly and pushed closer still, wrapping his arms around Dave's shoulders. They bumped noses in the dark, but then they were kissing and mouthing hungrily. Soon Nicholas's cock was poking hard at Dave's wrist; he adjusted his hold slightly so he could rub the heel of his hand against it while still kneading his balls. A groan tore out of Nicholas, which Dave muffled with another kiss before gently shushing him.

"Quickly, then," Nicholas said, an insistent hand pushing down to wrap around Dave's cock. Nicholas shifted closer still, obviously wanting to wrap both their cocks up in one hand, as he'd liked to do ever since their first time together. Dave let go his own hold, but instead reached to bring Nicholas's leg up to hook around Dave's hip. By lifting up onto an elbow, Dave found he could reach down between Nicholas's thighs to tug at his balls from behind – which had Nicholas groaning again, and clinging on tight round his shoulders, round his cock. When Dave managed to grasp and rub at his own balls as well as Nicholas's, the orgasm hit them both like a lightning strike, and afterwards they lay welded together, panting and damp in each other's arms – and if they had after all made too much noise, in that moment Dave really didn't give a damn.

The clients for the fossicking trip were a well-off family who were quite happy to ‘rough it' for a week, but wanted someone on hand who knew the ropes. It was hardly a challenging job, but Dave was perfectly happy to indulge them, especially as it meant he could give Nicholas and Robin a bit of a treat, working holiday though it was.

The three of them drove out to Cunnamulla again, and on the following morning went to meet the family who were flying in to Cunnamulla airport. Dave had talked to the father, Mike Baldry, on Skype a couple of times, so they recognised each other right away and shook hands heartily. Mike introduced his wife Suzanne, who seemed rather dauntingly elegant – until she grinned as broadly as her husband, and obliterated Dave's initial reservations. Their daughters Monica and Chloe were sixteen and fourteen years old respectively; the former was apparently going through the ‘too cool for this' stage, but Robin and Chloe were soon nattering away excitedly.

Nicholas and Robin got the Baldrys' luggage neatly stowed in the back of the four-wheel drive Dave had rented for them, while Dave talked Mike through the controls, as he'd never driven anything beyond a regular sedan before. Not that they would be doing anything very challenging: it was sealed roads all the way to Yowah, and well-maintained graded roads after that.

The two vehicles proceeded in convoy into Cunnamulla, where they were going to have lunch before starting their journey. Apparently Monica thought that travelling with the gay couple was cooler than hanging out with her sister, so she sat in dignified silence in the Land Cruiser's back seat, while Robin joined Chloe in the back seat of the rental. Mike seemed to have no problems handling the vehicle during the short drive to town; in fact, it was all they could do to persuade him to take time out for lunch before starting the three-hour drive to Yowah.

Dave had chosen the town's restaurant as their lunch venue rather than one of the pubs, given the nature of the party, and that worked out well. The grub was simple in the best ways, and plentiful, and the conversation was promisingly cordial. Even Monica deigned to enjoy herself for a while.

"Can I hang with you guys?" she asked Dave and Nicholas afterwards.

Dave glanced at the other four who were still strolling down the pavement, chatting away. It seemed that Robin and Chloe were firm friends already; apparently they were bonding over a shared love of a series of films that Dave was only vaguely aware of. "If it's okay with your parents," he said to Monica, "it's okay with us."

"It's not, like, you have to talk to me or anything. I'll just listen to my music."

"That's fine," said Nicholas.

"And you don't have to watch what you say around me. I'm not a child."

"Understood. And if you did want to talk with us, that would be fine, too."

She went a bit pink, as if both pleased and embarrassed, so they let her turn away and slip her earbuds in.

Dave went over to the others, and rested a heavy hand on Robin's shoulder. "Can you put up with this one," he asked Mike and Suzanne, "if we stick with the current seating arrangements?"

Everyone was perfectly happy, so soon their small convoy was heading west along Adventure Way, with Dave in the lead. They stopped in Eulo for a cuppa and comfort break, and then continued on until they reached the intersection with the Opal By-Way which would take them to Yowah.

Once they'd made the turn, Dave pulled over to the side of the road, and switched off the Cruiser's ignition. Mike pulled in behind him neatly enough.

"Is something wrong?" Nicholas asked, though he didn't sound very worried.

"Nah," he replied, with a reassuring smile – though he flicked a glance in Monica's direction, trusting Nicholas to understand that meant Dave was being discreet. He climbed down from the cab, and went to say to the others, "Thought we could stretch our legs for a minute. How're ya goin', Mike? It's about another fifty clicks from here …"

Everyone was amenable to taking a short break. They all took a drink of water, and no one minded being reminded to wear their hats – not even Monica, thank heavens, who wore a straw hat with a wide circular rippling brim which Dave assumed she thought was cool.