Lulu straightened up, as if on guard, and shook her head. ‘I haven’t seen him yet; he was on sunset last night, I was on sunrise this morning.’ She shot a glance at Alice. ‘Aiden’s my boyfriend,’ she said. Alice nodded, noting the hint of tension in Lulu’s voice.
‘Yeah, so,’ Dylan went on. ‘At the end of her patrol yesterday arvo, Ruby went into the crater and found a group of minga off track. They were inside Kututu Kaana. Naturally, she asked them to get out of the desert peas, and the same old argument flared up: “We’ve got as much right to these flowers as anyone else, I’m an Australian, this place is as much mine as it is yours, you can’t stop us from being here.” All that bullshit. Ruby had to radio Aiden for backup.’ Dylan shook his head. ‘When I got to work this morning, Ruby was in Sarah’s office absolutely giving it to her. I heard Sarah say something about her hands being tied, incident reports and a park staff meeting.’
‘Christ,’ Lulu muttered under her breath. ‘Have you seen Ruby today?’
He shrugged. ‘She’s been out on the homelands, I think.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Lulu nodded.
Alice tried to follow their conversation. Minga? Homelands? Dylan and Lulu looked at Alice as if they’d just remembered she was there.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘None of this will make sense to you yet.’
‘But it will soon enough,’ Lulu said resolutely.
‘Right.’ Alice smiled. ‘What’s that place you mentioned?’ she asked.
‘Kututu Kaana. The circle of desert peas inside the crater. Means Heart Garden,’ Lulu explained.
‘Heart Garden,’ Alice murmured.
Lulu nodded. ‘The problem’s with the walking track. It follows the outer circumference of the crater and climbs the wall to a visitor viewing platform, which was built after Handback, when this place was recognised as Aboriginal land. From the platform the track goes into the crater and around the desert peas, following a path that’s existed for thousands of years. Traditionally, it’s a ceremonial walk for women. Anangu have been asking for years for the park to close it to tourists. There was talk of it for a while, but since the tourist boom, that’s stopped.’
‘Why?’ Alice asked.
‘Tourists are money, right? They pay the park entry fee to get up close to the desert peas. So the walk into the crater and Kututu Kaana stays open. Tourists inevitably pick the desert peas as souvenirs to take home with them. And for the women whose ancestors have always been here, like Ruby, it’s dire. Every flower is a piece of Ngunytju’s heart.’
‘“Oong-joo”?’ Alice repeated.
‘Ngunytju,’ Lulu said, nodding. ‘Mother.’
Mother’s heart. Alice’s stomach lurched.
‘The major concern is the threat they pose to desert peas. If tourists don’t stop picking the flowers, it could cause mass root disturbance. If the desert pea roots are wrecked, the flowers, which quite literally are the heart of this place, its story and its people, will be destroyed.’
Alice tried to hide her filling eyes. She couldn’t understand why she was getting so upset.
‘You’ll see for yourself on your orientation tomorrow,’ Dylan said.
Alice nodded, watching as hordes of tourists continued to arrive. Some spilled out of coaches, while others mingled, drinking champagne from plastic flutes and eating salmon canapés. Families unpacked picnics and unfolded camp chairs, staking their claim to front-row views of the crater wall’s sunset colour changes. Couples sat on the roofs of their four-wheel drives, watching the sky. There was a nervous energy in the air. Be still, Alice felt the urge to yell. Pay attention.
Around them, the willowy needles of desert oak trees swayed in the pale orange light. Wafts of yellow butterflies fluttered low over acacia and mulga bushes. The crater wall slowly changed colour as the sun sank, from flat ochre to blazing red to chocolate-purple. The sun slipped under the dark line of the horizon, glowing like an ember as it threw its last light up into the sky. Something about the vastness reminded Alice of how she felt, long ago, a girl looking out over the sea.
As she watched the sky, a telltale cold sweat sprang from her skin. Her vision started to blur and her hands started to claw. She tucked them under her arms. Squeezed her eyes shut. Please. Her breathing was short and shallow. Breathe, she told herself. But her heart wouldn’t slow.
‘You okay?’ Dylan’s voice sounded far away. As he came towards her, he took his sunglasses off.
The next moment became the memory Alice would later slow in her mind, panning for the glimpse of gold: the simmering sky behind him, the dry air on her skin, and the drone of flies, like the bees at Thornfield. The rustling through the mulga trees, and the hum in the earth beneath her feet, as if every feeling she’d ever felt was practice, readying her for this, the first time she made eye contact with him. It wasn’t being put under a spell, or being hit by a truck, or getting an electric shock, or any of the other ways that the Flowers had described it to her when she was young.
For Alice, falling in love was nothing else but feeling her insides set on fire. The feeling consumed her, as if she’d somehow always known him and had been searching for him just as long.
Here he was.
As her knees gave way, she held his gaze, staring at him as she sank to the ground.
A sea of light rippled across her eyelids.
Alice, I’m right here, can you hear me?
Lulu’s face came into focus above her.
‘Sally?’ Alice asked.
‘Who?’ His voice. Dylan. Dylan was crouched by her side.
‘Alice Blue,’ Alice said, looking into his eyes.
‘She’s all right, just talking nonsense. She’s all good.’ Lulu cradled Alice’s shoulders and eased her up. ‘Slow and steady, chica.’ She opened a water bottle and gave it to Alice. The car park was empty. The sky was nearly dark. They sat in a pool of light spilling from Lulu’s ute.
‘Like making an entrance, hey?’ Dylan asked.
Embarrassment stung her cheeks. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
A small smile played on his face. ‘Reckon you’re going to keep us on our toes, Alice Hart.’
‘When was the last time you ate something?’ Lulu asked, her brow furrowed.
Alice thought back to the sandwich she had that morning at the roadhouse. She shook her head.
‘Okay. Dinner at mine, then. Let’s go.’ Lulu helped Alice to stand. The silhouette of the crater rose against the starry night sky. Alice looked around. The place felt entirely different emptied of crowds. Her eyes met Dylan’s.
‘You two going to be okay?’ Dylan didn’t take his eyes off Alice’s face.
‘All good,’ Lulu said firmly. She walked around her ute to the driver’s side. Dylan shut the passenger door, brushing Alice’s elbow. Her skin burned where his fingers had touched.
‘Thanks,’ Lulu called curtly as she started the engine.
‘Look after her,’ Dylan called, walking away with a wave. Look after her. A wave of pleasure curled through Alice. She strained to follow him in the low light.
As they headed back towards Parksville, Alice watched the star-soaked sky. ‘Thanks, Lulu,’ she said quietly.
Lulu reached over and squeezed her arm. ‘It’s a bit intense for everyone when they arrive. Like I said, baptism of fire, chica.’