Torn by Love
The two lovers spent every moment together, Kuparr often making excuses to be absent, to give them privacy. It seemed he was delighted his daughter had finally met someone, even if that someone had randomly stumbled in from the wastes. They made love often, and more often than not it was a serene and meditative kind of intimacy, something Carlos had never experienced before. No rushing in fear he would be discovered with another man's woman, and he found he liked it. No, he more than liked it; he needed it like a drug.
Medika spoke English very well, far less hesitantly than her father did. Gradually she revealed to Carlos her early life before the war, and her story made Carlos somewhat uncomfortable with his own life and privilege. Medika never knew her mother, the woman had died shortly after Medikas' birth from resulting complications, presumably infection. Preventable in all probability, but out here with no medical care or medicines early mortality among the tribes was high.
When she was of school age Medika was taken from her father and put into a boarding house in the city. This was not some mutually agreed-on arrangement with her family for her betterment. Rather it was the result of a Government initiative to supposedly help indigenous children bridge the gap of their tribal roots and cope in modern society. There they had forced her to change her name. Medika, meaning blossom or pretty flower a moniker bestowed on her by a father she adored, must adopt the meaningless name Lynette. A suitable name for a girl who would go to school and live in a predominantly white society.
Medika did not like this at all and did not apply herself to her schooling, only relentlessly dreaming and wishing to be home with her father in the desert, living the tribal ways. The soft-spoken and shy girl struggled with her absence from those she loved, and in tenth grade, she ran away, catching a bus to the outskirts of the city, and resumed life with her father.
The authorities would have simply returned the runaway to her fate, but the war for Medika was a fortunate event, as it spared her from having to return to a life she found no meaning in. Her father then brought her to this place when the trouble started, and they had lived here ever since.
This place was once the site of a sheep station, but due to a terrible drought many years before it was abandoned to the elements. Most out here crown-leased the land, so it was often easier and cheaper to just walk away when things went awry than to persist. The pinnacles of stone chimneys remained, along with some scattered foundation stones, but there was little else to denote the failed farmers' passing. However, the well with its life-giving water had endured as a secret prize for those who would find it.
As the young woman revealed more to him during the quiet interludes after their lovemaking, Carlos realized that Kuparr had not exactly been level with him, when he first asked if he knew of the city situated east of the capital. In fact, according to his daughter, the man had lived there for a time, taking seasonal farm work before the war. Carlos didn't know what to make of this lie, as it seemed uncharacteristic for one with such a free spirit and calm demeanor. He would, he decided when the time was right to try and get to the bottom of this. Perhaps in that first meeting, it was simply a misunderstanding, the moment had been very tense after all.
One fine spring evening, Kuparr returned bowed beneath the heavy burden of a large wombat. How he had captured the burrowing animal Carlos could not guess, but the creature was huge and would feed them for many days to come.
Everyone smiled that evening as they sat around the fire pit. Carlos had never eaten wombat; the meat was less desirable than some other game he had tasted and very fatty, but it was good to have a belly full. The knotted mallee stumps burned well and hot, and being hardwood, they lasted many hours. The evening was a trifle cool but not altogether uncomfortable.
Carlos and Medika sat close together shrouded in a bright red, plaid woolen blanket. Kuparr was patiently working on a new knife blade. It was fascinating to watch the experienced man, carefully chip away at the stone before him leaving a razor-sharp edge that when done correctly could easily slice the toughest hides.
Carlos had gleaned a lot from this patient man in a very short period. Most who had survived the calamity were equipped with basic survival skills. Carlos had long known how to prepare game, start a fire, and build a rudimentary shelter; but the time spent with Kuparr had done much to raise the level of the young man's skill set. He felt far more ready to journey forth than some weeks prior.
Carlos had enjoyed his stay here, this had been the healing and respite he needed, and he had found an unexpected love in Medika, but even so, there was a disquiet that tore at him. The young man was unsure if he could spend his life simply existing in the way these people could.
Medikas' attentions helped, but was it possible for him to exist here over the years as Kuparr and Medika had? Expecting no more from life but to hunt for food, make love, and tell stories around the fire? Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps there was no better to be had, and he was looking for the proverbial grail.
However, he already knew the answer. He needed and longed for the intricacies of society, and he was becoming more anxious every day as the air grew warmer and the sun held more bite. If he did not leave soon, his window of opportunity to trek south would disappear until autumn. He was not sure he wished for that kind of delay.
