AUSTRALIAN ADVENTURES

Chapter 3: A Batty Departure

He turned his head, saying over his shoulder as he continued to walk toward Berti. "West," he said. "I...we...are going into the west."
****************************************************************
"Berti," Himself said, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes, "we WILL find Bud." He smiled reassuringly. "We'll not stop until we do."

 

 

Her lower lip trembled. It did this because, of course, her angst level was rising. She had spoken privately with both Bunny and Jack and, so, knew of the terrible, terrible lostness of the LA cop, how Jack had last seen him atop the hill, heading...alone...into the west.

"What's in the west?" asked Susan, hoping desperately Himself might say vast fields of blue poppies in full bloom. That was, naturally, waaaaaay too much to ask. Her eyes widened as she saw a look of serious concern flit across his face before he could cover it with a pleasant semi-grin.

 

 

"Remember the Saltflats of Doom?" Wanda asked helpfully. "Well, those were a picnic compared to what lies in the west."

 

 

 

 

Himself had walked on to where Rose, Mary, and Laura stood. He cleared his throat and explained the 'rules' to them as they had never traveled epiishly before. "No changes of clothing," he explained. "Take only what you can carry in a small backpack...things uniquely yours."

 

 

"Um...backpack?" questioned Mary.

 

 

"Yes," Himself continued. "Ever since we...well...they...left Lucilla's Party two years ago this June, all they've had is the clothes on their backs and their...backpacks. It's become canon. I'm afraid you're quite stuck with it."

 

 

"What about...her?" Mary said, her eyes narrowing at Marti as the velvet-clad woman handed Jeff a small, soft bag.

 

 

"Oh, well, that's our one exception. Marti brought her carpetbag instead." He winked. "Makes her a real carpetbagger, doesn't it?"

 

 

"So," Rose added, "we must choose what one thing we are to wear...always?"

 

 

"Right!" Himself smiled. "Unless, of course, something. um, untoward, happens to it...like my flannel shirt." He was continuing the journey in his pale blue denim shirt and his battered felt hat from here on out.

 

Laura was wearing her long, soft skirt, her creamy blouse and her suede boots. "I think I'll just keep this on," she said. "It seems better for traveling than the pink suit."

 

 

Rose had on her lilac skirt and sweater set. "I'm ready, too," she added. Mary was wearing a mid-calf skirt in amber with a bit of a black print pattern on it. Himself was pleased that they were all satisfied with their attire. Everyone returned then to their caravans to pack their backpacks.

"We...we're going to...walk?" Ando asked, her eyes lingering lingeringly on the fleet of SUVs parked just to the end of the caravan park. The cast had gathered once again and were ready to embark upon their newest set of unknown, exciting, and even now possibly life-threatening adventures.

"You don't have sandals on, do you?" Himself asked, looking at her feet.

 

 

"Um, no....why?" she replied, her mouth going suddenly dry, her epi trust level at its lowest point in 3 years.

 

 

"Oh, you'll see!" he said brightly, heading off down the path at the end of the park.

 

 

"But...but...what about the SUVs???" she hollered after his briskly striding form.

 

 

"Is Bud walking?" was his only response.

 

Maximus' still limped from the wound he had inflicted on his thigh with the mirror shard. "Are you going to be able to manage?" Joimus asked, concerned.

 

"He'll do fine!" Sid said chipperly, coming up alongside the General and taking his left arm around his own neck. Joimus smiled up at Sid affectionately as she herself, shouldered Maximus' leather backpack atop her own yellow gossamer one. Since she had spent week after week carrying the General's 450 pounds of folded armor in her backpack throughout most of 'A More General Storyline', she didn't mind the extra weight at all. And, besides, her wound had been thoughtfully completely eradicated, whereas when Himself had recreated Maximus, he had had to come back to his body as it was when Sid left it.

 

Marti watched them velvetishly from the side of the path. There was much explaining this trio had yet to do concerning their new and strange behavior patterns. She wasn't at all sure she liked the way Maximus and Joimus smiled at Sid. It was not...right. It was not... canon.

 

That morning when the cast had first been assembled by Himself and he had imparted the news of their banning from the set, Steve had locked his eyes onto Laura, about 25 feet away, as she stood with Rose and Mary. He felt his heart squish and sag in his chest. She, of course, would be staying in Bellingen whilst he headed off to parts unknown. Now that dismemberment and death had become facts of epilife, he had no idea if he would ever return to Bellingen or if his manhood would be intact were he to survive. Nothing was a given anymore. He had been so alone all three years of this journey and then his hopes had soared there in Nana Glen. Now it was all for nothing. He would be alone again, only this time it would be worse since he had come so close. But...then...Jocelyn had come with the news of the scriptlessness of the film and instantly he had seen Laura lift her head, her eyes looking for his.

 

 

Silently their gazes fixed on one another across the 25 feet and he read things in her large blue eyes that plumped his heart so completely that it began to press against the insides of his ribcage. Then her lips curved into a smile. She was...glad...glad not to have to stay in Bellingen. Now that she had reappeared, a soft suede backpack settled between her shoulder blades, he walked toward her, stopping to stand closely in front of her.

 

 

"Could...could we walk together?" he asked. She actually extended her hand...she really did...and, amazed, he took it in his own as they turned and headed side by side down the pathway through the yooks toward the river. "Worse than the Saltflats of Doom?" he thought to himself as he glanced sideways at his companion. "I hardly think so."

 

Himself had stopped, waiting for the cast to catch up, in a place where the river ran wide and slow as it passed Bellingen Island. "Those of you who have hats," he said quietly, "now would be a good time to put them on."

Only a few of the male characters did...Alex, Biebe, Egan, East, Lachlan, Corbett...and none of the female. As Himself firmly settled his own battered felt one, he looked at Hando. "You be especially watchful," he said enigmatically. "Also watch where you step," he added. He, of course, had on leather boots whereas most of the females had only the heels they'd left Lucilla's Party in Tierra del Fuego wearing. "And, most importantly," he continued, "don't... whatever you do...DO NOT make any sudden sharp sounds."

 

 

Nearly everyone's eyes had widened considerably at this little speech of Himself's. "Where is he TAKING us?" Buggie asked Biebe, clutching his arm more tightly. Biebe shook his head, equally puzzled, but reaching up and untying the earflaps of his hat just to be on the safe side.

 

As they crossed warily over the bridge, the air about them was filled with whirring noises. Looking up, they saw the trees were hung with literally thousands of dark forms, many of which had small lumps fastened to their sides. It was these lumps that whirred. Eyes wide, Wanda asked, "What the heck are THOSE?"
 

"Babies," Himself laughed.

 

 

"Baby whats?"

 

 

"Baby flying foxes," he explained. "They're too young to fly...so they practice whizzing their little wings like propellers."
 

"Flying foxes?" Sue the Vile repeated.

 

 

"He means bats, Sue," Susan explained.

 

 

"BATS!" Cort shrieked, not even days of button entanglement having been able to eradicate the terrible memory of the Blue Mountain Tunnel and its giant enclave of bats passing him along its length. (A New Jeopardy) His shriek rose up through the limbs of the trees, its sound waves vibrating... sudden and...sharp. Forty thousand bats unhung themselves as one, filling the sky above the heads of the cowering cast. They swooped around Cort like a leather tornado, creaking and creaking, their wingtips brushing his cheeks. Hando was shouting underpass profanities as he waved his arms wildly, attempting to fend off the plopping digestive by-products.

CLICK HERE for flying fox sound

When it was over, when the bats had moved to the far end of the island and resettled into the trees there, Hando was nearly covered with droppings and Cort lay senseless on the ground, Sue spread above him protectively, her leopard-print gown sporting new spots. Indeed, everyone's clothing (except for the sacrosanct rust-colored cape with its fur drape) was dalmationized rather thoroughly.

 

Characters were leaping madly into the river going, "Yeuch! Yuk! Yech!"
 

Sue got to her knees beside the young sheriff. "Cort!" she cried, patting his cheek vigorously. "Cort! Speak to me!"

 

 

Mary, passing by, remarked, "He would probably recover better were he...wet."

 

 

Sue glared up at the Greek. "You have been transmogrified into a NEW character, Mary! Stop that right now!" Mary just smirked and turned her attention back to Johnny's twp's. Sue, though, knew Mary was right, alas, and that dust must be sacrificed to the better good of consciousness and depoopization. Standing, she slipped her hands through his armpits and dragged him toward the river. Finally she got him into the shallows where she sat, his upper torso over her legs, and began to bathe his face.
 

His eyelids fluttered and he moaned, "Don't let them...touch...me! Keep them away!"

 

"There, there," she soothed, dribbling water from her fingertips onto his face. "They're gone now. They're all gone."

 

Just then a large male bat glided down like some big water bird, making a brief, swishing cut through the water with its belly, until with a sharp sound, it flapped its wings and rose again." To Cort, it was like a nightmare come true right there next to him. His seagreens rolled up and he went limp in Sue's arms.
 

Himself came up beside her. "It's how they drink," he explained, his eyes following the flightpath of the male bat until it clamped onto a branch and proceeded to lick the moisture from its belly fur.

 

 

"Thank you, Mr. National Geographic," she said peevishly, "but...."

 

 

"I'd wet him more," Mary called over.

"YOU would!" Sue growled, setting about to do that very thing herself.

 

"THIS is how our Australian Adventures begin?" Marti asked, glaring at Joimus.

 

 

The Pittsburgher just smiled and, looking into the distance, replied, "This is probably the fun part. Next comes the...escarpment."
 

Marti gasped. "Escarpment?" That didn't sound...safe...not at all. And, truth be told, it probably was...not.

 

Once reasonably dedefecated, the cast continued on through the forested hills that, seen from a distance, looked for all the world like some celestial toddler had coated them with a thick layer of dark green Play Dough then run its fingers down them in deep, parallel lines.

 

 

"Ah," Himself said, pointing to a high-rising, sheer ridge, "the Dorrigo Escarpment."

 

 

"Why," Marti sighed, "why?"

"West," Himself shrugged.

 

 

Joimus, Sid, and Maximus exchanged delighted glances. "Look!" she cried. "The waterfall!"

 

 

"You've...been...here?" Himself inquired, puzzled.

 

 

Sid indicated the top of the largest waterfall. "Up there," he said, grinning. Then he curved his hand smoothly downwards. "And there," he added, his grin broadening. Joimus poked him fondly in the belly and he laughed.

 

Himself shook his head. What HAD happened with those three?

 

“Um, can we use the...road?" Eryn asked, hoping ropes would not be necessary.

 

 

"I don't see why not," Himself said.

 

 

A collective sigh of relief followed. Our motley crew began the ascent up the winding, narrow road. A low rock wall had been built along the outer berm of the road, a metal rail set into its top. As they walked ever upwards, they paused to watch the waterfalls plunging down the escarpment, going under the roadway, then continuing on downwards. It was lovely.
 

Berti, though, was not interested currently in loveliness. How far ahead of them had Bud gotten? What was he doing? What thinking? She had to get to him...quickly!

 

Bud was not moving very rapidly. He had no destination in mind. Indeed, he had nothing in mind but the sight of his bullet in mid-air. He could not stop seeing it, could not stop hearing the sound of its firing. Over and over and over came that sound...that sound that had marked for him the shutting of some vast doorway of life. It was loud...so loud that he would stop, bending far at the waist, jamming both fists into his ears. But still it would not cease. It blasted its way through his mind...over and over.
 

As he had made his way up the escarpment road a few hours earlier, he had found himself hanging over the railing, looking down to where Sherrard Falls splattered itself into pieces on the rocks below the roadway. He didn't have the energy to follow it. Climbing even the low wall required effort and all he could do was to plod along, putting one foot heavily in front of the other.
 
 

So he continued on, the noise of his shot blocking out the rustle of the leaves, the singing of the birds. The whole world was that one sound. He paused, exhausted, at the highest overlook, sinking to his knees, laying his forehead on the rock wall. Closing his eyes, the slice of his bullet through the air was even clearer than when he kept them open. He slumped against the wall, becoming then aware of his empty holster pressing into his side. Slowly he took off his brown suit coat then let his fingertips run down the length of the leather shoulder strap. His jaw worked as his fingers moved. It was like...caressing a snake that had curled itself about his body. With an animal-like roar, he ripped it off, flinging it onto the roadway, then heaved himself to his feet, staggering onward.