Morning was dawning in Arnhem
Land on the outskirts of Maningrida.The shrill cry of the kukaburu broke through the stillness
of the grassy, eucalyptus-dotted plain.
Outside the Marimu ranch was
a green and black flag with a red center, much like the blood-red
highlights of the morning sky. It was the symbol of the Australian
Tribal Union, the red center representing Uluru, also known as Ayers
Rock, the spiritual center of Australia.
Inside the main house, 9-year-old Danny
Marimu was just starting to wake up. A small lizard scrambled over a
notebook computer on the small table next to his bed, then ran over
his face, tickling him with tiny 4-toed feet.
"Alright Sam. Just give me a
minute."
After getting dressed, Danny heard the clatter
coming from the kitchen through his open window. He fed his reptilian
companion then reluctantly opened his bedroom door. 'I might as well
get it over with,' he thought with a bit of resignation. Danny
entered the kitchen, really a large open area with more windows than
walls. His extended family sat at the large table, while his mother
hovered over the stove.
"Well, it's about time. We were just
about to start without you," commented Danny's eldest brother
Jim.
Danny sat down next to his oldest sister
Rachel. Their mother, Hanna, put a large plate filled with eggs and
kangaroo steaks down in front of him.
"Here you go, Yukuyuku." (Guninwingu word
for youngest child, which Danny is.)
"Aren't you special," remarked Danny's
slightly older sister Sara.
Danny, already embarassed from all the
attention, shrank back a little. His mother barked protectively,
"Sara! Your brother will be leaving us soon after the ceremony."
"That's right," remarked Danny's oldest
brother Jim proudly. "The youngest Yolgnu to enter
UTS. That in itself is quite an accomplishment."
After breakfast, the clan scattered -- Danny's
sisters went into town, while the rest of the family began their
chores. Since it was Danny's last day of childhood (before beginning
a 10-day initiation ceremony), he was excused from having to do any
work. He went back to his room, which was not un-noticed by his
oldest brother Todd who, being a guest, also didn't have to do any
chores that day.
In his room, Danny hunched over and
extended his arm to his desk. The diminutive lizard scrambled up his
arm and perched on his shoulder.
"Com'on Sam. Let's go," Danny solemnly
announced to his small, green friend.
Danny had walked about 2 miles away from
the house, unaware that his brother was following him -- Todd had
kept a healthy distance, but knew that his little brother would soon
need to talk to him. Todd remembered the apprehension he had felt
when he was about to enter UTS the age of 17, and imagined it was
doubled for his brother, who was only 9 years old.
Danny had suddenly stopped in a small
patch of bushes near a billabong, and Todd could hear him saying,
"Shoo!! Go on! Get out of here!" Todd decided to approach him.
"You're letting him go?"
"Yes. It's where he belongs." Danny wiped
his eyes on his arm, not the least bit bothered by his brother's
intrusion into this painful moment.
"Is that what's really bothering
you?"
Danny became thoughtful and looked out
toward the water, "I want to go, but I'm scared. What if the Balanda
attack here."
"What difference do you think your
staying back here would make. In order for us to survive, we have to
not only keep alive the old ways, but embrace the new. Incorporate
our magic into the machines. You remember Johnny Njiminuma."
"Of course. He was the first Yolgnu in
space."
"That's right. You carry inside you the
spirit of Gandayala. Don't be afraid to jump to the stars.
Danny smiled and closed his eyes for a
moment, and when he opened them, he found himself alone. Todd had
given him the words he needed to hear, and wisely left Danny alone to
ponder his future without the constraints of familial ties. He was
already becoming a man...
Ten days later, and 1200 km to the south in Alice
Springs, a different kind of family sat down to dinner.
"So, where's dad tonight. I figured he
would like to see me in the ol' uniform at least once before I change
into ranch duds." Jackie Starr looked quite dashing in his RAAF
uniform, being 19 and already one of the most promising test pilots
in the Force. He hadn't wanted to give up the station, but after the
drought of '99, it became painfully obvious that raising sheep would
not be a viable option, and that all Jackie had left was his love for
flying -- something he inherited from his uncle, who used to take him
on flights when he was around 8-9, before his uncle crashed in a
botched-up landing at the airport. Despite this setback, Jackie held
on to that love, and found that when he was in control, everything
was as right as rain.
"Your father's working late. He said he'd
try to make it in time, but not to wait for him."
"Working late? Out drinking with his
mates is more like it," sharply commented Jackie's older sister
Anne.
"Yeah, well things wouldn't be so bad if
the Abo's didn't own all the businesses."
"What?!! You sound just like dad!" Anne
was surprised at the depth of her brother's hatred.
"Oh yeah? Then why is it that two Abos
with less flight time, were both promoted to Captain first! Explain
that!" And with that outburst, Jackie popped open a bottle of
Toohey's Red, took a large swig, then belched. His sister was
speechless.
Just outside of Alice was the Grotto, a run-down
bar where racist white men gathered to curse and moan amongst
themselves -- something that was impossible to get away with at the
tourist-filled establishments in the center of town.
"Those Abo bastards! Getting rich off our
sweat and blood while our livelihood is becoming history."
"That's not all that's history. Frank
Petersen died last night."
"Jesus Christ. We're all dropping like
flies." muttered John Starr, an older carbon copy of his son, Jackie.
He stood up to get another round, but then he paused to listen.
"Not just that -- I hear the Aranda are
going to buy out his station. Naomi can't afford to keep it going.
Hell, she's tinny she has enough money to give him a decent
burial."
"Our fathers worked hard toiling this
land, and now it's being stolen right from under us -- all because of
that stupid land council!"
"Let's do something about it." John's
eyes smouldered with hate.
Sam Wright, an older rancher who had been
the one bearing the news, began to walk away. "Count me out."
"Fine. Everyone else in?"
The other four men nodded.
"There's gonna be a barbie in
Campbelltown tonight."
And so they climbed into a couple of old
beat-up trucks, then bombarded down the Stuart Highway into the
ancient red wasteland.
Some 200 kilometers down the road, they reached
the land of the Aranda -- miles and miles of red scrubland dotted
with a few trees. The trucks veered off the highway onto a dirt road,
not stopping until they came to a wooden structure, with only a roof
and one wall. This building served as the open schoolhouse for the
Aranda children in the area, the reading materials stored in cabinets
on either side of the only wall, with the blackboard in the middle.
The blackboard contained a colorful rendering of the Rainbow Serpent,
drawn by a young hand.
The sight of this infuriated Tony Gordon,
who believed that the serpent was a symbol of the Devil himself.
"Damn devil-worshippers!" he muttered.
He zealously splattered gasolene all over
the schoolhouse. Afterwards, the men stood a healthy distance away,
and John Starr threw a lighted road flare onto the gas-drenched
floor, and the open schoolhouse was soon a blazing inferno.
Around another fire, half a continent away,
expressively painted bodies twisted, whirled, lept and stamped. The
men who not dancing clapped to the music of didgeridoos and
sticks.
Danny fell back, paralysed, with a blank
look in his eyes. His soul had been taken up by
Milnugua, becoming part of the thick multitude of stars above him.
Once there, he experienced an incredible feeling of loneliness, of
separation -- and yet the heavenly beauty that surrounded him gave
him a sense of peace, a sense of belonging that went beyond the land,
beyond Mother Earth...
Back at the blazing schoolhouse, a shot rang out
in the smoky haze. John Starr fell down, a bullet lodged fatally in
his right lung. Tony broke out of his stunned surprise to pull an
illegal 45 out of his jacket's inner pocket. He shot out into the
blaze, but could not see what he was firing at -- whoever they were,
they were on the other side of the fire.
"Let's get the hell out of here! Before
someone else gets shot." Tony helped carry John back to the truck,
but he had already lost too much blood to survive. As they sped down
the dirt road, several of them thought they saw shadowy figures along
the side of the road. This was confirmed when a boomerang crashed
through the windshield of one of the trucks. The ranchers would never
again venture that far down the Stuart Highway.
The Aranda people, who had survived over
200 years of attacks by whites, were prepared this time. They hoped
to never have to build another schoolhouse again.
