into a big white snake, coming out of the sky to get me.
In the morning, bright sunlight and bacon smells woke me.
Gran was tending the fire. There was a blackened old kettle on one bit of it and a blackened old frying pan on the rest. She’d made up a new woodpile. I looked at my watch. It was five thirty. There were plenty of birds about now. They were going mad in fact.
“Hello, Gran,” I said, kind of dopily. It seemed funny we were still here and that I wasn’t scared any more.
“Hi there, Stace, how are you going? Sleep well?”
“Sort of.”
“Want your coffee in bed? Billy’s boiling.”
I didn’t even think “Who’s Billy?” I could see that “Billy” was the kettle, and I remembered some song when I was a little kid about “he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled”, and how I used to think it was his willy that was boiling. I giggled and hiked myself up, leaning my back against the cabin. I just sat there all peaceful, looking around again. There was nothing scary about the bush by daylight, it looked beautiful. The colours were red, for the ground, and a sort of greyey-green for the grass tufts (I found out later it’s called spinifex), and brown for the tree trunks. Not all the mulgas were dead, some had leaves on them. And the sky was a gorgeous dark blue. Would you believe the sun was hot already? Gran handed me up my pannikin full of fresh hot coffee.
“Get a swig of that into you and then jump down for breakfast. It’ll be ready in a minute.”
I wanted to get down right away. I felt suddenly all hot and uncomfortable and I needed to go. I put the pannikin on the roof of the cabin and started to scramble over the side of the ute. Suddenly Gran said, “Hey! Have those boots been on the ground all night? Wait right there.” She came and picked them up and shook them, open end down. Something dropped out of one of them.
“Oh, look! You see? I practically saved your life!” she said, all cheerful.
“Why? What is it?”
Whatever it was was scuttling away. It looked like a black prawn with claws and a tail.
“Scorpion,” said Gran. “Good it didn’t bite you, that would’ve been the sign of an early spring all right!”
“Kill it, Gran, stamp on it!” I shrieked.
“No! Why kill it? It’s only doing its thing.”
I watched it darting to and fro on the flat red earth – looking for somewhere to hide, probably.
“Oh, catch it, Gran! I don’t want it running around near us!”
Gran laughed and clapped her pannikin upside down on top of the scorpion. I thought of it getting a coffee-bath and straight off felt sorry for it.
I didn’t want to climb down after that, but she made me. I wished there was a pathway up above the ground so I wouldn’t have to touch anything dangerous. I went off to the trees again. It seemed just as gross as it had the night before – worse cos it was daylight. I thought I’d never get used to going in the open.
The bacon and eggs were good. Gran must’ve done a load of shopping.
She said, “Today we’ll be at the station. You’re just going to love it, I bet.”
She got me to roll the swags up tight and tie them, and help load everything. Just as she was climbing into the cabin, I thought of something.
“What about your pannikin?”
“Oh! Thanks for reminding me.” She started to climb out. “You better sit tight, Stace, or the scorpion might get you!”
“Can we bring him?” I heard myself asking.
“Oh, so it’s a him now, is it?” She gave me a funny look. “You must be starving for a pet! Have you never had one?”
I shook my head.
“Right, you can bring it along if you can put it in this.” She gave me a glass jar. “Let’s see how you manage. Need I say, don’t touch it?”
Now I had to catch it, I got scared again. I didn’t know why I’d said I wanted it. I circled its pannikin prison two or three times. Finally Gran took pity on me.
“Here, I’ll show you.”
She came over with a piece of cardboard. It looked very thin, like any self-respecting poisonous insect could sting right through it. “Slide it under the mug. Careful… Don’t lift the mug too much… That’s it, you’ve got him! Hand underneath, press the mug down tight. Now, bend the card into a little funnel – he can’t get up at you – slide him into the jar… right on, you’ve done it!” And she snatched the jar off the ground and screwed a lid on. I was sweating, literally.
“Can he breathe in there?”
“Every now and then you can unscrew the lid a bit. Good girl, now we’ve got an extra passenger.” She gave me kind of a pleased look.
“What?”
“I was just thinking. If you’re so keen on creatures that you want a pet scorpion, you are just going to love the station. It’s stiff with ‘em.”
“Scorpions?”
“Among other things.”
As we drove I held my scorpion on my knee. I know it sounds crazy, but when I saw him scuttling about inside, I thought it was nice to have a little live thing of my own, even if it would bite me if I touched it. Sting, I mean.
The driving was even longer and rougher that day. We saw some emus. That was fantastic. There was like a family of them, two big ones and three little ones. They kind of tiptoed across the road, a long way in front of us. I let out a shriek and Gran stopped the ute and we watched them till they disappeared. I felt all breathless. They were so huge, for birds!
“I wish I could see them close to.”
“You will,” Gran said. “I’ve got two tame ones at home. They lay the most beautiful eggs in the world. A gorgeous greeny-blue colour. The Aborigines carve them like cameos. I’ve got one at home, I’ll show you.”
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