Bruce pulled off the highway when sun started slanting into his eyes. Dust settled around his utility and the whole Nullarbor Plain stretched out around him. This far away he should be safe.
Firing up his gas barbecue, he got his billy boiling for tea. A cold one would have been better but he was kilometres away from any pub yet. He opened his Esky and dug out the last of his now-warm tucker to make up a meal.
He wished he hadn’t had to leave in such a hurry but there was no way he was going to spend another night in that deserted opal-mining town. People had told him to give it a miss but he’d always been a stubborn sort of bloke who had to see for himself.
He didn’t believe in ghosts but he had seen one the night before, carrying a bushranger’s gun that he somehow knew would have killed him if fired. The old humpy had provided just enough shelter to keep him hidden.
It had been a long night, spent clutching the one large opal he’d found before dark, now the only thing that had made his visit worth making. The phantom had fossicked around Bruce’s campsite till morning; he had been like a dog trying to pick up a scent he had lost. And then he was gone.
Speed in breaking camp was matched only by determination to leave no trace for the ghost to follow. Then the Holden had catapulted into the west, leaving kangaroos and wombats dazzled by its passage.
Still, that was all behind him now and, using the full moon, Bruce contemplated his new treasure. He looked up as the light dimmed, to find an Aboriginal woman blocking it. She was holding out her hand in universally-demanding insistence.
Knowing when he was beaten, Bruce handed over the opal and watched, now unsurprised, as they both sank into the dirt at his feet. Holding his head in his hands he wondered how she had known what he’d taken. Then, suddenly, he did know: it was by the “bush telegraph.”
—
Susan Cornford is a retired public servant, living in Perth, Western Australia, with pieces published or forthcoming in 50-Word Stories, Akashic Books Sci-Fi Fri, Antipodean Science Fiction, CarpeArte Journal, Ghost Parachute, Medusa’s Laugh, Speculative 66, Subtle Fiction, Switchblade, The Fable Online, The Gambler, The Vignette Review and The Were-Traveler. She considers herself an emerging flash writer.
Image by Mark Gillow
Well-written with a strong sense of place. Nicely done.
Thank you.
Regards, Susan