withdraw a little, as the dreaming waters waited for her lover to return.
He brought the bodies of four possums which he placed gently down on the bank where lovers had camped as far back as the Dream time when the first female lover had been turned into a pool to eternally receive the downflowing passion of her lover. Jangamuttuk braved the water. Gingerly, he lowered himself and was swept towards the rainbow. She saw how his body glowed as it passed through the rainbow and moreover saw that he could not swim and was in danger of being taken into the depths. She swam to him and towed him into the shallows. Safely in her arms, he could resist her no longer. They merged oblivious of the dreaded present and future which was wrenching them from this past.
Jangamuttuk chanted out his memory: ‘And after, we roasted those possum over the fire.’
And Ludjee chanted a reply: ‘And they still are the sweetest, the most tender possums I have ever eaten ...’ Then her voice became as bitter as the salt sea: ‘Now all gone. All spoilt ... All that happiness, all that land, that Dreaming place which held us both.’
‘But we still together, Ludjee,’ the old man whispered. ‘We still together. No matter what happened. We still goin’ strong together.’
Suddenly, he broke into a fit of coughing, and Ludjee made him eat some of the salt pork she had taken from the mission house and the vegetables which she tended in a little garden of her own. It had to remain hidden, for if Fada knew, he would first commend her, but then take all the vegetables for his own table.
‘You gotta take things easy, old fella,’ she gently scolded him again as she watched him masticate the pork. ‘Take things easy, else I lose you.’
‘No, I ain’t a thing to be lost. When I go I know I go. I am a boss of that world. Time come to go, I know. And not from this island either. Almost got answer I been looking for. It almost come to me now. When I get it, maybe, just maybe, I take this sickness and fling it into Fada. Maybe I just do that.’
‘Not Fada, he good man,’ the woman protested. ‘He done his best for us.’
‘Maybe his best not good enough. Maybe his value is at an end,’ the old man said, flinging off his assumed weakness.
Ludjee was alarmed. She knew her husband was capable of hurting Fada and she didn’t want that, though sometimes for all the world, she couldn’t understand why she felt such tenderness for the ghost. Maybe, she had more than once thought he was the spirit of her grandfather come back. He had been thick headed like Fada and clubfooted as well, though Fada was not. This kept her from making a full identification of Fada with her grandfather, though she still felt protective about him. Now she raised her voice in protest and also indignation as she realised that her husband was not as weak as he made out and had been funning her. ‘What you mean?’ she almost shouted. ‘Don’t you go poking’ fun at Fada. Don’t you go planning’ to hurt him with that bone-pointin’ nonsense. If it wasn’t for him, where would we be? Answer me that, where would we be?’
The shaman stared down towards the mission compound. His eyes fastened on the graveyard as he muttered: ‘And yet that graveyard keeps growin’, and them souls keep callin’ to me. I see in vision, right in front of my eyes, that sickness comes from that ghost, and when we die, he binds us to him. He writes us down in that big book of his and we are trapped for ever. But I watch out, I know what he is doing, and I can free ...’
‘Old fella, you talkin’ outa your sickness,’ the woman said softly, feeling that the old fella had suddenly weakened. ‘You runnin’ aroun’ in that head of yours. Listen, old man, I work in his house. I know ghost talk good. I listen to what he say to Mada, his wife. He tells her that he has plan. Soon, we all up and goin’ to new land.’
The old man broke into a fit of coughing, then croaked out:
‘Tell me the old , old story,
Tell me the old, old story,
Of Fada and his love.’
‘You shut your mouth now. A body never knows if you sick, or lying’, or funning’ or crying’. You shut your mouth now and let things be until we know.’
‘Woman, you the crazy one,’ the shaman shouted in exasperation. 'You know how he got us to this island, you know full well. We was the ones that told them others to put their trust in him. He was going to take us to another place free from ghosts. And when we got here, them ghosts were still over us, and worse Fada was the com-mand-ant of this mission and he cut off our hair and he made us wear those clothes and ...’
‘He done the best he could. He still tryin’ his heart out.’
‘An’ so am I, an’ I got better skills than he has.’
‘Well, maybe you have,’ the woman answered somewhat reluctantly. ‘You do ceremony as it should be done. Fada’s medicine done us no good; your medicine better for us. Most of us well now; but we still here and Fada will take us away.’
‘Fada’s plan is my plan,’ Jangamuttuk declared. ‘I see it all in vision. New land and no Fada. We will go soon. I know.’
‘You old fella roamin’ too long in head. Sickness got you alonga balls. Squeeze the sense outa you. You not Fada ... Now I ’member he wants to see you. Told me to tell you to come quick smart,’ she replied before realising that the shaman had been speaking from a trance which he had fallen into. The state stirred things in her. Things which Fada’s teaching had put out of her mind. She smiled as she watched him return.
Jangamuttuk did not return her smile. He said: ‘He wanta see me ’cause I wanta see him. I, Master of the Ghost Dreaming, and he a ghost.’
‘Hush, don’t talk ’bout such things in front of your woman,’ Ludjee said quickly. This was a warning that the novices might be listening, for she had reached the age when things were revealed rather than concealed. Now she kept the smile on her face as she added: ‘Whichever way it is, he wants to see you. You go see him bye and bye. Okay, and put your pants on. He don’t want to see your thing dangling’ down. We civilised now, you know.’
In the cleft the listening novices wondered why the two adults continued laughing for so long.
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