Looking through the scribbly gum branches up into the sky, Dave Frankston felt calm again. Calm, if anything, was something he could really do with, as his discovery of the truth behind Alan ‘Ironbark’ MacGregor’s daughter’s adoption was giving him sleepless nights. Up until last night, that was. Last night, sleep had finally found him. It had done him a world of good, especially as today was Saturday, his day off. He had woken up early alright but had the luxury of staying in bed for half an hour extra with the curtains open, so he could watch the little white clouds drift slowly across the dark blue sky.
Remembering this part of the story hit Giuseppe hard. Once again, he recognized the allegory that the story formed with his own real-life love story. As tears streamed down his face, he swallowed to clear the lump in his throat and continued to recollect Bee’s story.
Moving from Australia to London in 1979 wasn’t as great as I’d expected it to be. In fact, it turned out to be an enormous culture shock. The roads weren’t paved with gold at all; society wasn’t as sophisticated as people made it out to be, the weather didn’t agree with me one bit, and above all, the people weren’t as friendly as the people in Australia. England seemed so backward to me, that for all I knew, I could just as well have landed on the moon.
Giuseppe closed his eyes and began to recall the story that Bee told him about the cowry shell:
Many years ago, at the dawn of time, there was a young man named Googong. He was a skilled hunter and often went out for days, in search of prey that his tribe could feed on for a long time. Fortunately, his orientation skills were outstanding as well, so he always found his way back easily. However, one day when he was on one of his hunting trips, he was so intent on tracking down a big fat wallaroo in unknown territory, that he lost his bearings.
A story on International Women’s Day 2018 about the power of the feminine
As long as Luna could remember, her mother had been consumed by grief. She knew what caused this, even though her mother never talked about it. Two years ago, when Luna was barely three years old, her father had returned from the civil war. Vividly, she remembered the men of her village in the mountains bringing him home safely. She also remembered her mother screeching when she saw how the regime’s cruelty had traumatized her husband.