Master of the Ghost Dreaming. Mudrooroo
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that her husband was not as weak as he made out and had been funning her. ‘What you mean?’ she almost shouted. ‘Don’t you go poking’ fun at Fada. Don’t you go planning’ to hurt him with that bone-pointin’ nonsense. If it wasn’t for him, where would we be? Answer me that, where would we be?’
The shaman stared down towards the mission compound. His eyes fastened on the graveyard as he muttered: ‘And yet that graveyard keeps growin’, and them souls keep callin’ to me. I see in vision, right in front of my eyes, that sickness comes from that ghost, and when we die, he binds us to him. He writes us down in that big book of his and we are trapped for ever. But I watch out, I know what he is doing, and I can free ...’
‘Old fella, you talkin’ outa your sickness,’ the woman said softly, feeling that the old fella had suddenly weakened. ‘You runnin’ aroun’ in that head of yours. Listen, old man, I work in his house. I know ghost talk good. I listen to what he say to Mada, his wife. He tells her that he has plan. Soon, we all up and goin’ to new land.’
The old man broke into a fit of coughing, then croaked out:
‘Tell me the old , old story,
Tell me the old, old story,
Of Fada and his love.’
‘You shut your mouth now. A body never knows if you sick, or lying’, or funning’ or crying’. You shut your mouth now and let things be until we know.’
‘Woman, you the crazy one,’ the shaman shouted in exasperation. 'You know how he got us to this island, you know full well. We was the ones that told them others to put their trust in him. He was going to take us to another place free from ghosts. And when we got here, them ghosts were still over us, and worse Fada was the com-mand-ant of this mission and he cut off our hair and he made us wear those clothes and ...’
‘He done the best he could. He still tryin’ his heart out.’
‘An’ so am I, an’ I got better skills than he has.’
‘Well, maybe you have,’ the woman answered somewhat reluctantly. ‘You do ceremony as it should be done. Fada’s medicine done us no good; your medicine better for us. Most of us well now; but we still here and Fada will take us away.’
‘Fada’s plan is my plan,’ Jangamuttuk declared. ‘I see it all in vision. New land and no Fada. We will go soon. I know.’
‘You old fella roamin’ too long in head. Sickness got you alonga balls. Squeeze the sense outa you. You not Fada ... Now I ’member he wants to see you. Told me to tell you to come quick smart,’ she replied before realising that the shaman had been speaking from a trance which he had fallen into. The state stirred things in her. Things which Fada’s teaching had put out of her mind. She smiled as she watched him return.
Jangamuttuk did not return her smile. He said: ‘He wanta see me ’cause I wanta see him. I, Master of the Ghost Dreaming, and he a ghost.’
‘Hush, don’t talk ’bout such things in front of your woman,’ Ludjee said quickly. This was a warning that the novices might be listening, for she had reached the age when things were revealed rather than concealed. Now she kept the smile on her face as she added: ‘Whichever way it is, he wants to see you. You go see him bye and bye. Okay, and put your pants on. He don’t want to see your thing dangling’ down. We civilised now, you know.’
In the cleft the listening novices wondered why the two adults continued laughing for so long.
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