Let's go

Louisa felt tired, but she had to keep driving. It has been two hours since Julie got into Louisa's 4WD with her baby and it was another two hours to the nearest highway bus stop. Buses are few and far between in the Central Australian Dessert. Louisa had been a social worker for about three years out here now. As soon as she finished her studies in Melbourne she moved to Central Australia in search for adventure. And she found it, in the form of a domestic violence case worker job with a big white 4WD.

Responding to domestic violence is different out here. There are no taxis, sometimes no phone signal and the police are underfunded and understaffed. That's where Louisa's job comes in. She visits women in remote places to talk to them about their options and make plans with them to leave if they choose to. The most important part about Louisa's job? She listens. Not just listen and then speak and then listen again. Louisa needs to be present, because this might be the first time a person is talking about their pain out loud. Imagine you were holding on to a big secret, a huge secret, and saying it out loud terrified you. When you finally do say it out loud wouldn't you want someone to really listen and most importantly, believe you?

Julie has not said a word in the past two hours. Both women sat in silence, which was broken every now and then by Julie sniffing and wiping tears with an exhausted sigh. Julie had done most of her talking yesterday, when she made the plan with Louisa to meet in the early morning by the main road and leave her husband for, what she hoped to be, the last time.

"Pull over Louisa. I need to go to the toilet". By ‘toilet’ she meant tree. Louisa pulled the car over on the side of the red dirt road.

Louisa got out of the car to stretch and, simply because of habit, she took the car key out of the ignition and put it in her pocket. It had been no longer than a minute when Julie came back to the car. Julie gave Louisa a weak smile and opened her car door. Louisa put her hand in her pocket, “It was just here!” she shouted, frantically searching her pockets for the missing key.

“What’s wrong?” Julie asked. But before Louisa could speak Julie realised what had happened and quickly dropped to her knees to scan the dirt for the key.

What was going through Louisa’s head? What was going through Julie’s head?

What if they don’t find the key? What if Julie’s husband has already woken up, figured out she had left and started driving after them? How long would it take him to catch up to them? They could call for help on the satellite phone, but how long would it take for someone to come find them? They are still two hours away from the highway bus stop. What if they started walking? No, Louisa’s boss always tells her to stay with the car if she is in trouble. What if there's a brown snake? There are so many snakes out this way. Why didn’t Louisa remember to bring her spare key?

Julie stood up and looked into the back seat where her baby son was sitting. He wasn't crying, wasn't sleeping, just sat there calmly and kept saying "Da, Da, Da, Da". This didn’t help Julie at all. She wiped her tears, “yes baby, we will see Daddy soon” she lied. She hoped to God it was a lie.

The sun is bright now. It must be around 7 am. It will start getting hot soon.

“Damn it!” Louisa yelled! She kicked the dirt around her in frustration. A flash of light hit her eye.

The key! Louisa pounced on it, “Thank God, or the Universe, or whoever! Thank you!” Before Louisa could even stand up straight she heard a strange sound. It sounded like cars. No, not cars. Galloping? Just then about fifty camels galloped up the side of the dirt road. They decided to cross the road about fifty metres in front of the 4WD. As the herd started to trot across, the large bull camel stopped in the middle of the road and starred at Louisa and Julie. Louisa and Julie starred back at him. As soon as the last little camel crossed the road, the bull trotted on, leaving a cloud of red dust behind him.

“Typical outback”, Louisa laughed to Julie.

Julie and Louisa got in the 4WD. Louisa put the key in the ignition and turned the car on. She looked in the review mirror to see if there was any dust on the horizon behind them. Julie copied her. “No cars”, said Julie, “Come on. Let’s go”.

Silence again.

Then “Da, Da, Da, Da”.

Julie didn’t cry this time. She laughed. A laugh so loud and ridiculous all Louisa could do in response was laugh just as loud until her eyes started to water.

“Are your family waiting to pick you up from the bus?” Louisa asked. “Yes. Uncle Todd and my cousins will be there. They will take me to my auntie’s house. We will go fishing a lot and they will help me to take care of the baby and I want to start painting again…”

Julie talked for the next two hours, until they arrived at the highway bus stop. Louisa just listened.

As soon as they arrived at the bus stop Julie got out of the car to unbuckle her baby in the backseat. Louisa took the key out of the ignition, put it in her pocket and tapped the outside of the pocket twice, “stay there you”.

Everything was packed into the highway bus: four bags, a pillow and 2 blankets. Julie flung her arms around Louisa. They had only known each other a few days, but they were the most dangerous three days of Julie’s life. Louisa knew if everything went to plan, she would never see Julie again.

“Thank you”.

“Be careful”.

As the bus turned off onto the long highway towards the city, Julie wrapped her baby up, held him close and closed her eyes. Louisa called the local police to let them know Julie had gotten away safely. The police told her that Julie’s partner did find out she had left, but drove two hundred kilometres in the wrong direction before his car broke down. Louisa turned to walk back to her 4WD, “Right then, just four hours home again. Let’s go”.