Railway Whisper

“Just what d’ya think ya’ doin’?” Palms on hips, her head tilted as her eyes squinted against the sunlight.

“What d’ya think I’m doin’?” He said.

“You’re lying on your back copying a goanna gettin’ a suntan?”

“No.”

“Are ya waitin’ to die of sunstroke to become Dingo bait?”

He screwed up his nose. “No.”

“Unless you’re pretending to be a brown snake, stretched between them rails, please explain for the masses…” she said, with her arm sweeping across the deserted sunburnt scrublands, “… why are you lying on the train tracks?”

“I’m protesting.”

Her laugh unsettled a flock of white galahs perched high in the scraggly gum tree. She wiped happy tears mingled with beads of perspiration with an expert flick of her finger. “Why?”

“To stop Mum leaving.”

“Oh.” Teething her bottom lip, she dropped beside him. Wrapped her arms around bent knees, tucking flyaway hair behind her ear. “Where is she going?”

“Down south. She says I’ve gotta go too.”

“‘What? Why?”

“That’s how I reacted.” He sat up and pointed to her slackened jaw and swatted at a fly.

“Ya can’t go. Unless,” she said, swallowing hard, “you wanna go?”

He sighed deeply, shaking his head, fiddling with the laces of his shoes. “I already told Mum I don’t.”

“Maybe you’re goin’ for a holiday?”

“It must be permanent if Mum’s says I’m goin’ to school there.”

Her lower lip trembled. “But, you’re my best mate, you can’t go.”

“That’s why I’m protesting,” he said, rested his back down along the tracks.

“I’ll protest with ya.” She lay beside him. That quarry stones pressed against her bare skin that was surprisingly cool. Flatwood panels warmed her back as she stared at flawless cobalt skies. Scents of red dust, flowering eucalyptus trees and heating metals lingered in the air. She grabbed his hand, crossed her feet at the ankles, and cushioned her head on her bent arm. “When’s the next train?”

“Dunno.” He mirrored her image. “Mum should notice and come lookin’ for us any minute now.”

“I won’t let her take you coz we’re meant to be friends forever.” She kissed his cheek then lay back and smiled at him.

The bright sunshine made their eyelids heavy as they beamed at each other. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We’ll always be friends forever.”

“There’s something lying across the tracks.” The train driver’s eyes bulged as he slammed hard on the brakes.

The co-driver dropped his newspaper getting to his feet. “Another feral camel?”

“No.”

The train’s brakes squealed in protest as the co-driver reefed open the door. A vicious hot wind whipped around them, both craning out to scour beneath the moving mass of snaking metal.

Once it stopped, they jumped out and peered under the carriages.

“What’s that?” The driver pointed to two white crosses. A desolate contrasting symbol amongst the red dust on the verge of the cleared railway line and scraggly gum trees with the tiny town of Elsie Creek just ahead.

“That’s a memorial for a couple kids that fell asleep and got killed on these tracks.”

“When?” The driver’s colour drained from his face.

“About ten years ago,’ said the co-driver. “Some reckon they still haunt this part of the track.” He cocked his head at the driver. ‘Did you see them? Those kid’s…ghosts?”

The driver tore off his cap, ruffled his flattened hair. Rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. He shrugged, blinking and frowning at the railway line. “I dunno what I saw.”

“I’d seen it once – out here. And I’ve got no idea what I saw either.”

They eyed the expansive outback’s wilderness surrounding them. The air was breathlessly silent.

“Come on mate, there’s nothin’ on these tracks now, and we’ve got a schedule to keep.” He patted the driver on the shoulder and climbed on board.

The train shunted northbound. They both glanced back at the sun-bleached crosses that shadowed track spilled stones. They looked ahead, never taking eyes off the railway line again.

But beneath the soft breeze caressing sun-warmed metal rails, children voices whispered, “We’ll always be friends forever.”

Not wanting to give too much away, but the above piece of flash fiction was the inspiration to a secondary storyline to CAKED IN DUST, part of the ELSIE CREEK SERIES that can be enjoyed as a standalone story.

If you are looking for a unique take on the outback, take a novel armchair tour of Australia’s Northern Territory and give yourself the gift of reading the Australian Bestselling series, ELSIE CREEK.

Go on, it’ll be like an adventure on the pages to enjoy from the comfort of your home.