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| "Laura's Nightmare" Copyright Francis Blow, 1989. |
| CHAPTER 6 |
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| "How many times, and how many ways can I tell you how much I love you, Laura?" Marcus pleaded. "I want to marry you, and raise a couple of kids with you. Now I know you want a career, and that won't be a problem. Really. We can work things around..." |
| "Marcus, the answer is no," Laura put her hand against his chest, stopping him from taking her in his arms. "Before you ask me again, yes I do love you, but not the marrying kind of love. We're friends, Marcus, but I don't want to have your children. Not yours, not anyone else. At least, not yet. Can't you accept that? I am your friend, and nothing more. We've been over this too many times, and I'm not changing my mind." |
| That was how their last date went, before Laura's departure for Tasmania. Laura felt she was going round in circles, and eventually she walked out. |
| "No, Marcus. I'm going. Settle yourself down. Have a cold shower, or something. Good bye." |
| "Will I see you when you get back?" |
| "Sure, Marcus. Take care." Laura smiled back at him, to take the sting out of the argument, then climbed into her new coupe. |
| The mini bus had gone with the business, when it was snapped up by an eager tour company which bought fifty one percent of the shares. Laura owned twenty percent of the shares, while her family and Jem had between five and ten percent each. Jem's worries about losing her photography job were drowned in the amount of work coming her way over the holidays. Laura, herself, was commissioned as a consultant, and would be expected to earn her keep, once she returned from Tasmania. |
| A twenty five kilogram backpack was on the back seat of her car, ready for the morning. Laura was not going to leave from Sydney airport; rather, she was ferrying a small Cessna to Bankstown, where she would join a charter flight to Tasmania. On her return, she would have to make her own way from Bankstown. |
| The only annoying thing about the trip down, was that Laura had to leave home at five a.m. After an early night, she dressed in cool hiking clothes, ate a good breakfast, and went to her parents' bedroom, to kiss them good bye. |
| Her coupe started smoothly, and Laura backed out onto the street. Tingles of anticipation ran up her spine, as Laura felt the trip would mark a change in her life. |
| Once at the dirt airstrip, Laura locked her car in the unoccupied hanger, and checked out the Cessna. |
| The owner was overseas, and was sending it to Bankstown for a major overhaul, which was supposed to take longer than Laura's week-long holiday. Once all the preliminaries were done, Laura strapped herself into the cockpit and went through the preflight list. Satisfied, she warmed up the engine, then checked radio traffic, before sending the small plane bouncing down the strip, and into the clear, powder blue sky. |
| There was little turbulence, and the trip to Bankstown was soon over. Laura left the plane with the engineer who was to do the work, and Laura was ready to join the charter flight. |
| Laura's mood soon changed, when she discovered the seven other passengers on the flight were football players, and they had a one track mind about women. Disgusted with their attitude, she went to the cockpit and asked the pilot permission to join him. |
| "If you like, I can do some of the flying. I've flown one of these, not long ago." She offered. |
| The pilot glanced at her. "You must have been pretty young when you started learning. I guess you aren't overwhelmed by the jokers in back? Their other team mates, for their own reasons, took a commercial flight." |
| "Oh, great. That bad, huh?" Laura wondered if she could last until their first stop in Victoria, before going to the ladies room. Fortunately, the pilot was friendly, and treated Laura as an equal. They shared the flying, and Laura listened to his stories of previous charters that were either frightening or funny. By the time they landed to refuel, the passengers were so drunk, some of them were unconscious, and the others could barely stand. One staggered outside and emptied his bladder against the plane's landing gear, much to the disgust of Laura and the pilot, while the fueling officer laughed. |
| Back in the air, for the last leg of their flight, the pilot reassured Laura, "Not all charters are like this, and not all men are like those idiots, either." |
| "Am I glad you're right. Are you flying straight back to Bankstown, after you drop us off?" |
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| Laura and the pilot enjoyed each other's company for the shorter flight, and shook hands at their destination. |
| "I might catch you around, some time, Laura. And that was nice flying over the water, in the turbulence. Now I can have fun cleaning up where our passengers sprayed the seats with their liquid lunch." |
| "Better you than me. Have a safe flight back tomorrow." |
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| Rather than share a bus or taxi with the drunks, Laura set out on foot to the nearest town, only five kilometres away, where she had a late lunch, then used buses to get to one of the national parks. The ranger checked Laura's camping permit and emergency equipment, told her what to expect, which Laura knew anyway, and he pointed her off on the best trail. |
| "Try not to get lost, but if you do, don't start a fire." |
| "No worries. I've got my grandmother's mobile phone. Just in case I get hungry and want to order pizza." Laura grinned. The tiny phone was switched off and wrapped in plastic, protected further by Laura's packed clothing, as was the emergency beacon. |
| "The wonders of technology. You might want to make your first night's camp in a hut we've got about four hours up the trail. It's marked on the map, and there are enough signs to find it. The food there is for emergencies." |
| Laura waved her thanks, and took to the trail, climbing into the mountains, some of which still carried snow. She knew to expect temperatures that ranged from as high as thirty degrees, down to below zero, and the wind chill would vary it considerably, with little or no warning. Dressed comfortably in T-shirt and walk shorts, Laura could be ready for snow in less than three minutes. |
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| At first, the trail led along the edge of a forest, in bright sunlight, and with small birds and animals darting away from the large intruder. Laura flexed her shoulders, trying to get the pack into a more comfortable position. She was conscious of the way her clothes were moving, taking note of where to expect chaffing. Perspiration dampened her shirt and the waistband of her shorts, while her scalp began to itch under her hat. A water bottle bounced against each hip, and flies tried to land in her eyes. |
| Everything was as Laura anticipated. She knew it would take at least till the next day to develop a walking rhythm which would suit her. In the meanwhile, she intended to enjoy the unspoiled country and deliciously clean air. When a baby rabbit stared up at her from the base of a thick tree, Laura's face crinkled into a wide smile, and she gave the shivering kitten a wide berth. |
| Two hours of trail were behind Laura, when she stopped for an afternoon snack and to let her shoulders free of their burden. She worked her muscles, swinging her arms around and across her body, allowing herself ten minutes of freedom. As she expected it would, Laura's pack seemed much heavier when she pulled it on again. She also knew her next break would be much sooner, but that, too, was normal. When she did stop, for the second time, it was to retrieve a woolen shirt from her pack, as the air was becoming chilly. |
| By the time she was opening the door to the crude hut, Laura was wearing a parka over her two shirts. |
| There was a plentiful supply of firewood for the cast iron stove, and a large, though battered aluminum pot in which to heat water for a wash. Though it was still light outside, Laura prepared a hot meal, sponged the sweat off her body, rinsed some of her clothes, and crawled into her sleeping bag for nearly nine hours of exhausted sleep. |
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| The stove had gone out during the night, and Laura was shivering as she dressed. Her washing was not quite dry, so she coaxed the fire to life once more. It did not take long for the small hut to become cosy enough for shirtsleeves. |
| Dehydrated eggs on toast, coffee and a banana made Laura's leisurely breakfast. She was in no hurry to go anywhere. Wherever she got to in two days, Laura would simply turn around, and head back. |
| In the meantime, all there was to do was walk and admire the scenery. |
| Mist clung to the trees for several hours after Laura was back on the trail. The forest was strangely hushed, all sounds muffled by the chill, damp air. Shorts had given way to long trousers, and Laura was glad she had a storm-proof parka which allowed her body to breath. Despite the cool air, she was perspiring heavily, though it would be foolish to take anything off. |
| According to her map, Laura would not leave the forest until at least the next morning. The prospect did not bother her; it was all part of hiking in mountain country. |
| There was a point during the morning, when Laura's reflections turned to Marcus. What would life be like, married to a man like Marcus? Could it work out, as he said, with Laura in the Airforce, always moving from one base or posting to another? And what about children? Laura loved kids, so would it be fair, dragging babies all over the place, not knowing a permanent home? But it would be nice, having a beautiful baby of her own, to nurse and to teach to talk and walk. Then again, there were dirty nappies and getting up in the middle of the night, not to mention nine months of increasing weight, aching back, sore ankles and having a full bladder almost all the time. |
| Laura tried to imagine what it would be like, having something half the weight of her back pack hanging from her stomach, day and night. |
| "No thanks," she declared to the somber trees. "Not this little black duck. Maybe after... after what?" |
| Laura had never considered what she would do, once she completed her cadetship. |
| There was the American space programme, but exactly how was she to join it? Certainly, she had friends in the programme, like Major Tom Besser, and in Senator Kichin Togawa, but it would be years before Laura was ready. What might happen in the meanwhile? |
| "Worry wort. Anything can happen, good or bad. Just do what Gran says, and keep your eyes on the goal. One step at a time, but keep your destination in mind, so you don't get lost. Sorry, Marcus, but the way you want me to go is the wrong way." |
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| Laura's second camp was much less comfortable than the hut, yet she was prepared for minor inconveniences, like having to wash with a few cups of warm water in the icy cold open air, then drying herself on a towel hardly bigger than one of her father's handkerchiefs, before sliding into her sleeping bag. |
| With only her shoulders exposed, Laura worked from inside her down-filled bag to prepare a hot stew on the spirit stove with which she had heated her wash water. While the meal was getting ready, Laura wrestled herself into warm clothing, without leaving the sleeping bag. |
| When sleet began to fall, Laura was not too surprised, and curiously, it made her cramped tent seem more cosy. She was lying, propped on her elbows, and staring at the rain, wondering what her family was up to, when she remembered the mobile phone Gran loaned her. |
| Surely it wouldn't work out here, would it? she wondered. |
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| "Hi, Mum! It's me, Laura. How's the weather? You're kidding! Well, that loud hissing on the line isn't static. It's half rain and half ice. In fact, it'll probably be snowing by morning... Okay. How was work, Dad? And Joey? Kiss him good night for me, and I'll see you in a few days. Love you." |
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| Snow did fall, confirming Laura's prediction, and she woke to find thin patches of white where the trees did not cover the ground. Tempted though she was to stay in her warm tent, Laura broke camp after breakfast, and continued her hike, determined to pass through the tree line that day, because the time to turn back would be the following morning. |
| Whether she attempted to reach the summit would depend on the available time and the weather. |
| The day started bitterly cold, forcing Laura to wear two pairs of trousers, three shirts under her parka, gloves and an extra pair of socks. She wished she thought to pack a balaclava or scarf, though her towel served to cover the lower half of her face from the cutting winds that found the cleared trail an ideal path. |
| Her high pack acted like a miniature sail, and Laura had to struggle not to lose her balance, as freezing gusts threatened to blow her over. Even when the sun came out, it offered little relief. Laura's thoughts were restricted to gaining the next reference on her map, occasionally stopping where natural shelter allowed her to rest and eat something. The dotted line that indicated the limit of the tree line came nearer, as she studied map and compass. When she finally broke through to an alpine meadow, Laura gasped. |
| Low grasses and stunted plants stretched upwards, towards a line of white. If she could reach the top, what views might she expect to find? |
| Laura studied the map, then checked the time. |
| "Don't be stupid. It's not worth exhausting yourself, and freezing half to death, just to say you did it." She told herself. |
| By the time she could have reached the top, she would be so worn out, she would have to camp there, in near gale force winds that swept the summit clear of snow and soil. The only way of securing the tent would be by piling rocks around it, and she did not fancy that kind of work on top of the ascent. |
| There were times when you had to say "enough's enough". |
| After surveying the desolate mountain, Laura returned to the relative shelter of the forest, and celebrated her decision with a cup of hot soup, then she headed back, already thinking of the camp site she would use that night. |
| By the time she had walked down off the mountain, and arranged a hot shower at the ranger station, Laura felt as if she were a different woman. Whatever the subtle change was, Laura was satisfied she had achieved what she set out to do, which was to prepare herself for the rigours of the school year ahead. |
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| "Talk about a white Christmas, I think I prefer these thirty two degree days." Laura leaned back in her chair, as the family pre-Christmas lunch wound down. John cleaned up the barbecue, and the ladies watched. Even Gran was there, back from her own trip two days earlier. |
| "So the sale of your company went okay?" Gran asked. |
| "About what you predicted. There was enough profit to buy my little sports car and still have a few thousand left over. You were right about the value of Good Will. I thought we'd have little Good Will after all that trouble, but the buyers thought otherwise. Actually, it's all working out for the best, because I would not have been able to put much time into it next year. And I'm still making a little money on top of the sale." |
| "Let's not talk about business," Carla interrupted. "Did you tell Gran about those people who you flew with, down to Tasmania?" |
| "No big deal, Gran. There was a bunch of drunken footballers, but I stayed with the pilot, and there were no problems. Next time, I'll check out the passenger list before I agree to share a charter. I used your satellite phone, too, Gran. It was in the middle of absolutely nowhere, sleet was pouring down, and the nearest human was four hours away. There I was, shivering in my sleeping bag, in sub-zero temperatures, talking to Mum and Dad, while they were trying to cool off in a heat wave. I'll have to get one of those phones, when I can afford it. If I had realised how handy they were I'd have got one when I was doing all those tours." |
| "Laura, I give up!" Carla exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and laughing. "You two talk shop, and I'll put the coffee on." |
| "You stay here, Mum. I'll get the coffee." Laura offered. She took orders for tea and coffee, then changed into a swimsuit while the water boiled. |
| The lazy lunch and talking was lulling her almost to sleep, so, once the tray of cups was distributed, Laura dove into the pool for a few laps. She was relaxed and looking forward to the new, and final, school year. |
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| Laura's good mood did not last, after Marcus came around to propose again on New Year's Eve. He refused to accept Laura's decision not to get married, and after arguing uselessly, Laura ran from the living room in tears. |
| Locked in her bedroom, Laura would not let anyone in, and would have nothing to do with seeing the new year begin. From then on, Laura would not answer the house phone, and warned her family not to give out her mobile phone number. Her parents had given her the portable phone for a Christmas present. |
| School was back two weeks, when Laura felt ready to write Marcus a long letter, saying she would not see him again, unless he promised never to mention marriage again; she was offering her friendship, and it would never go beyond that. The letter ended with a p.s., saying she would take his calls, once more. |
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| There were no more calls from Marcus, though Jem said she occasionally saw him when she was out, in the evenings. Relief and disappointment mingled equally, at first, before Laura's concentration shifted to her studies. |
| It came as a shock, when Laura found out from other friends that Jem and Marcus were going out together. Once more, her emotions were in turmoil, so much so, that the results of her first term examinations were well below what she expected. |
| Angry with herself, more than anyone else, Laura realised she would have to change her attitude and priorities, if she was to have a chance at entering the Airforce. |
| Another weekend stay with Gran, for more advice and soul searching, and Laura was ready for an all out effort. There would be no more evenings at parties and movies, her only relaxation would come from weekends alone, or, rarely, joining one of the weekend tour groups, when any last minute vacancies occurred. |
| The second term results went much better, with Laura getting first place in most subjects, and nothing lower than third place. Instead of permitting herself satisfaction with the results, Laura worked through the short break, spending at least four hours a day studying. |
