Red Dust

The red dust slowly settled on her white sneakers. How silly could she be? She had known well enough that it would be like this - hot and dusty, and not half as enchanting as the catalogues would have made her believe. But dutifully she followed the tourist group around the bus to take a picture of the red desert called the "Australian Outback". A distinct "hrmpf" could be heard as she followed that line of thought, getting her a stern glance from an elderly lady in pink shorts and a slightly lighter pinkish T-shirt that contrasted tastelessly with the earthy red desert around them.

After only one day of travelling she was already the focus of suspicion among the group. A lady in her early 30's travelling alone and not even sporting the trace of a wedding ring on her finger sure was not what the other participants of the trip thought "usual" or "appropriate". The younger women travelling with their husbands and half-grown kids were sure not in favor of the attractive blonde with a self-conscious air about her, and the older couples had an air of disapproval about them whenever their eyes rested on her firm thought rather abundant curves.

"What the heck .... " she thought, underlining her mental conclusion with a shrug of her shoulders before obediently digging out her camera and taking a snapshot which she knew would show another lot of red dusty nothing once developed.

"Ohhh, Miss Sanders, here you are!" the excited voice of Paul, the bus driver and tour guide, startled her out of her musings. About five years her junior, Paul was a nice enough guy, sure, but she dearly wished he wouldn't focus all his attention on her at each and every stop they made. He probably meant only well, her being the only person of the group travelling alone and not being either caught up in sticky napkins and complaining kids or of an age to be his parent, but at times he was just too much for her. She took an inaudible deep breath and when she turned around to face him, only a polite smile was showing on her face, nothing betraying her earlier thoughts.

"Miss Sanders, isn't it just lovely? And it isn't too hot yet either. We'll be at Cockaboora Ranch in another 90 minutes and shall have our lunch there, and will be in Billabong Lodge by tonight. Have you ever tried ostrich? Or kangaroo meat?"

Seeing her shake her head in denial, he seemed to beam even brighter.

"Oh, we will be going to an aboriginal festival this evening - right at Ayers Rock. Oh you will love it! It is really a magic place, you know? And it is all traditional, dancing and music and all ..."

His words tumbled over in his mouth, eager to please her and to convey his deep love and pride for his country.

"I am sure it will be lovely, Paul. Shouldn't we be going again? I think everyone is back in the bus already." Catherine Sanders observed.

With a mumbled and regretting "Oh, sure..." Paul trudged off and squeezed himself behind the wheel anew.

Back in the bus Cathy was left to her thoughts again. While outside the red, baked landscape slid past, her thoughts drifted back in time. Only three month earlier she had booked the trip with John - John, who was supposed to be sitting here now to share the wonders of the 5th continent with her.

She and John had been together for three years, "the perfect couple" she mentally snorted. Both reasonably good looking, both from academic educational backgrounds, both following their careers with seemingly equal dedication and success. They had been the focus of friendly envy among their friends and co-workers. Life had been smooth and easy and it had seemed only a matter of time before they got married and lived happily ever after.

They were not overly possessive about each other but did enjoy each others company. Even though the burning passion that had brought them together in the beginning had faded to a more steady glow they didn't feel the lack of anything, attributing the decreasing lovemaking to their demanding careers and the routine that had developed in their relation. At least that had been what Cathy had thought, until ...

She shifted in her seat and brushed back a strand of gold behind her ear. After having taken a sip from the water bottle in the seat pocket in front of her, her eyes once again settled on the passing landscape outside, looking without seeing.

John had been working late a lot, but so had she, never giving it a second thought. And when his business trips started to increase she had thought it unfortunate but inevitable, well aware that mobility and flexibility were the basics that were required of tomorrow's top management. She rarely complained, not wanting to add feelings of guilt to the stress he was obviously having, but instead jumped into her own career even further.

It had been a fairly nice Friday last September, when things had started to go wrong - very wrong. John was in the office still but bound to be home soon since they had booked a weekend in the mountains, a little break from the strenuous work of the last months. While Cathy was busy finishing the last packing and made the last arrangements around the apartment, humming along with the music from the CD player, the ringing of the phone startled her. When she answered the phone though there was a brief silence and then the dial tone returned, indicating the other party had closed the connection. With a shrug of her shoulders she dismissed the interruption - it had happened before, maybe just someone dialing a wrong number and too surprised to excuse himself. She thought it to be a little rude but nothing to waste any thought on. Only two minutes later the phone rang again. And again the person on the other end hung up without a word.

And then a third time only another two minutes later. Slightly annoyed, Catherine picked up the phone. "Sanders ..." Silence. "Hello?" A faint sound of someone taking a breath on the other end of the line. "Helloho ... " Cathy tried again.

"Uhmmm ... isn't this the number of John Marshall?" a hushed and quivering female voiced asked.

"It is, but John isn't home at the moment. Who am I talking to, please?" A strange sensation of impending disaster crept up on Cathy as she was waiting for the answer of the woman on the other end of the line.

"Do you know when I can reach him?" the still nameless voice asked, ignoring the question in regards to her identity.

"He should be home any minute. Can he call you back?" Catherine asked, the question of identity of the unknown caller seeming urgent for unexplainable reasons.

The voice clearly hesitated, thinking. Then: "No, I will call again later then."

"Well, if it can wait till Monday, sure. We will be leaving for the weekend as soon as he comes home."

Breathless silence on the other end of the line again.

"In that case - would you just tell him Donna called?"

"Sure, on what topic?"

"That is ... uhhh ... personal."

"Oh - I see. I'll tell him."

"Thanks!" And the connection was cut.

Cathy fell back into the soft cushions of the couch, the phone still clutched in her hand, a big icy lump in her stomach. Donna? She didn't know any Donna.

Maybe a relative? But she had met pretty much all his siblings and their offspring over the last years and couldn't recall any Donna from there.

Could have been someone from John's work maybe? But they would call him in the office first so he would have gotten the call there. Unless he was on the way home already.

Or maybe ... She cringed. John had been to his annual health check lately. Could there be anything seriously wrong with him? That sure would be news to be personal and not passed on at the office.

She got up and started to water the plants, seemingly calm and serene. Her mind though was frantically searching for an innocent and logic explanation, fighting the certain knowledge of trouble rising from her guts.

It must have been about 30 minutes later when the phone rang again. Half convinced it would be John telling her he would be late she picked it up.

"Sanders"

Silence - and the plop of the receiver being put down again on the other end.

A few minutes later the crunching noise of keys turning in the door announced the arrival of John.

He flung his briefcase into a corner and pulled loose his tie before putting a quick kiss on her lips. "So - everything ready to go?" he asked, putting a cheery note into his voice that his eyes wouldn't reflect.

"Yeah - pretty much done. Ohh - and there was a call for you earlier. A Donna. Sounded like she needed you urgently to call back." Cathy's voice hadn't betrayed the turmoil inside but she kept her eyes fixed on him as she referred the message. Only the faintest flicker of surprise showed on John's face before he asked: "And did she say what she wanted?"

"Nope - just asked you to call back. She said it was something... "Cathy paused "... personal."

"Oh .. well, I guess I will call her and find out then before we go." The last muttered as he made his way to the bedroom, clearly intending to make his call from there. Alone.

Still giving him the benefit of the doubt, Cathy went to the kitchen, fighting the urge to listen at the door. She actually didn't need to. That moment the door bell rang and when she opened, she stared into the tear streaked face of a young girl, her fragile form showing the first soft swelling of pregnancy.

"Hi, how may I help you?" Cathy asked, the icy lump in her stomach abruptly changing to a fiery ball of rage even before she heard the answer. A sob came as only answer from the girl, but that was enough for Cathy to recognize the voice "I guess you are Donna then? Come in."

A second later the bedroom door flew open and a completely confused John shot out.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing here?" he shouted. Followed by a moan. "Oh my, what's wrong? Are you ok, baby?" his stance changing from wrath to caring concern as he became aware of the girl's dissolved state, pulling her into the living room and sitting her on the couch.

Cathy stood still at the door, staring transfixed at the scene in front of her. Only the thump of the lock falling close startled her out of her trance. She didn't move though, her mind refusing to resume normal service.

Slowly bits of the conversation, frequently interrupted by sobs, leaked through the cotton wool wall and drifted into her consciousness.

" ... and when he found out he started to beat me, said I should never dare to return home. John, you said you loved me and would care for me and the baby - our baby. I ... I didn't know where to go anymore ... "

Cathy felt distant, as if she was floating some place outside her body. There was her ready packed weekend bag standing at the door, the car keys hanging on the hook above it. Like a puppet on strings, composed by looks but simply hollow inside, she entered the living room. Her voice was steady and quiet, but must have held a tone that did not allow response.

"I guess I need not ask who Donna is anymore, nor what was that urgent. I am going now and when I return on Sunday I don't want to see either one of you in here anymore."

Like a wooden figure she turned around, grabbed her bag and left, not awaiting any reply or reaction by those she left behind - not that there was any more than stunned, thick silence anyway.

She had driven to the mountain resort and spent the weekend there - the first night crying till she had lost all strength to sob, the second day drinking till she was sick. The third day she surrendered to the icy numb feeling that had taken a grip on her the moment she had opened that door, a feeling that would stay with her for the following months.

The bus hit a pot hole and she bumped her head against the dusty window. "Fuck John!" she thought, as she stretched her stiff limbs and rubbed her head.

She had refused canceling the trip altogether, just had returned John's ticked and swapped her reservation to a single room, from the difference buying some new lingerie and shoes she didn't really need.

Cathy must have fallen asleep for a little, since all of a sudden the cheery voice of Paul announced the immediate arrival at their lunch stop, Cockaboora Ranch. A look out of the window didn't show any real change of scenery, but there were neat fences visible and then appeared the flat stone building of the Ranch. A few huge trees - maybe Eucalyptus, she thought - splattered inviting patches of shade over a few tables and benches on a stretch of dry lawn. A huge iron construction, supposedly the outback version of a grill, was sitting at one end of the lawn, tiny curls of smoke raising straight into the still air.

The bus came to a halt and with the stopping of the engine the air condition too ceased its constant buzzing. Leaving the comparatively cool refuge of the bus was like stepping into a wall of heat, causing the sweat immediately to gather in the dip between Cathy's rather voluptuous breasts. Before following the others to the tables she took a deep breath and stretched, feeling the warm sun on her bare arms and legs, for a moment conjuring up the vision of rainy, gray February- London.

From under the trees Paul was waving wildly at her, indicating the seat next to him and with a resigned smile she walked over to her fellow passengers, already settled at the tables. Lunch was light but delicious. Refreshing salads were passed around to go with potatoes and delicious, spicy chicken from the BBQ. Just perfect in the heat of the day. And when they were served a glass of light, cool Chardonnay she felt as if the ice block inside her was slowly starting to melt. Life was wonderful after all - with or without John!

Lunch had passed in a friendly and relaxed atmosphere. Paul had been telling little funny stories and anecdotes about the bush and the animals living there, so there was not much personal conversation between the travelers which, Catherine thought, was just as well.

Soon the once so inviting lunch was only remnants and before too long Paul shoed everyone back into the bus to hit the road again. After all there were another 200 miles of Outback ahead of them before they would be reaching Ayers Rock, the mystical and mysterious destination of today.

Catherine gratefully curled up on her seat in the air conditioned bus, drifting into a slumber as once more the superficially monotonous red landscape slid past the window, the Chardonnay easing her way into dream land.

A general gasp startled her and a quick glance around indicated that there must be something exciting to be seen out of the windows on the other side of the buss. She rose to her feet and looking over the shoulders of her co-travelers she saw a steep rock formation rise out of the flat ground. The Oooohs and Aaahhhs all around her seemed a little exaggerated and she felt a pang of disappointment as she looked at the brownish lump of rock ahead. That was it? The famous and mystical Ayers Rock? With a puzzled frown she glanced on her watch. That seemed strange - they should still be a good distance from Ayers Rock and although the land was decidedly flat there was no way one could see THAT far.

Only a split second later the chuckling voice of Paul cleared up the mystery. "Well, Ladies and Gents, it is a stunning view, isn't it? But unfortunately this is not Ayers Rock yet, but only the little brother. We still have a bit to go and I can assure you - it is getting even better!"

With murmured comments everyone returned to their seats and Catherine fell back into dozing, her mind tumbling with the pictures of red rock and black faces she had seen in the brochures.

The sun was already standing rather low when all of a sudden a shout from a boy in the first row drew the attention. "There, there it is - mom, look!" And then the voice of Paul confirmed "We will do a quick stop in a moment so you can catch your first glimpse and take a picture of what in my opinion sure is one of the world wonders - Ayers Rock. And we even caught it at a perfect moment. If it is ok with you we will be driving right up to the vista point now to catch a scenic and enchanting sunset before heading to the Lodge." With these words he pulled over and released a bunch of awed tourists to the red dusty heat. The clicking of cameras and faint winding of video tapes was for a moment all that was audible in the vast silence of the desert.

"We better hurry, else we will miss the most spectacular shades" Paul announced and obediently everyone returned aboard. The once slightly bored atmosphere was now charged with new excitement.

Cathy watched the Rock grow, from a small knob in the red distance to a giant pebble, glowing in the bloody rays of the sinking sun, polished by centuries and centuries of wind, sand and rain. Although it was hot, in spite of the buzzing air conditioner, she felt a shiver run down her spine. It was as if she could feel the magic of the ancient stone, the heart of earth itself beckoning for her. The closer they got the more spectacular a sight they were offered. What first seemed a smooth, big chunk of stone now showed a mysteriously lively surface. The changing light and the odd cloud passing over the rock gave it the appearance of a giant animal, slightly moving in its sleep. Cathy was enchanted.

Driving around the formation in a wide circle the bus came to a halt on a parking lot, where already another 5 coaches had found their space. Opening the doors Paul announced that the departure to the Lodge would be in 45 minutes from here again.

Catherine felt no hurry any more now. Had she been as eager as all the others before to reach the vista point she now seemed strangely reluctant to step out into the sunset. A quick bang of regret struck her as she though about how romantic this would have been together with John - before ...

Paul had caught up with her and gently touching her arm pointed to a little rise at the side of the general watching area where most of the crowds had found a spot on the few benches or scattered rocks. "It is the most stunning view from over there if you ask me, Miss Sanders. You sure get some different pictures than the ones in all the brochures." Paul beamed at her and with a smile she replied "Thanks - and .. call me Cathy, ok?" If possible at all his smile grew even wider and he guided her to a secluded spot in the bush. She had to admit he had been right. If she had seen the Rock in all its beauty as shown on the magazines from where the bus had stopped, this spot sure revealed a secret side. Not the smooth round shape with the flattened top that was connected to Ayers Rock, this spot offered a ragged and lively view that seemed to glitter and burn, displaying the deepest shades of blood red to orange and almost yellowish whites. At one point the rock seemed to move and shiver, and she stared, mouth hanging open, forgetting about taking any pictures.

"Tumana qu'asali" a deep rich voice said behind her. With a start she spun around to stare into the dark, wide face of a man she hadn't noticed coming, caught as she was in the enchantment of the rock. He simply put a hand on her shoulder and turned her back to look - and she didn't resist. "The shivering rock" the hypnotizing voice intoned. "There is a little dip on one of the ledges up there filled with water for quite a long time since it lays in the shade during day. Only now, when the sun sets it touches the surface and reflects from the ripples to the steep wall above. You are a chosen woman, Madam, to make the rock shiver before you."

Cathy shivered, he didn't touch her anymore but she felt his voice like a caress, wrapping her into a velvety cloak of magic. A last ripple and shiver of the rock above and the sun had passed over the magic spot. Cathy felt as if she had lost something, as if something precious had just slipped out of her hand and disappeared. She sighed deeply.