The Plantation - Di Morrissey [81]
‘C’mon, then let me get warm.’ He started to lie down beside her, stretching out and dropping an arm over her shoulders. ‘Did ya like the dancing? Hornbill, it was.’ He started to stifle giggles.
‘David, you’re pissed. Get out. Go away,’ snapped Julie.
‘I did you a favour, drank your tuak.’ He leaned over trying to kiss her.
‘Well, you shouldn’t have. C’mon, stop it. This is disgusting.’ Julie sat up. And as he started to talk, somewhat incoherently, she pushed him away from her. ‘I don’t want you in here.’
‘S’orright. Iban very relaxed ’bout sex. Very healthy, very natural,’ he slurred.
‘Maybe, but I’m not. I’m choosey.’ She pushed him hard and yanked her blanket away, leaving him lying on the floor. She grabbed her torch and, wrapping herself in her blanket, debated about sleeping in the far corner of the room, next to the girls or curling up outside in the ruai. She stepped outside and closed the loose-woven apartment door behind her. A few figures were moving about at the far end of the ruai, and the coal embers of a small fire burned in a metal ring. The bitch and her litter were stretched out beside it. Julie curled up in her blanket by the soft warmth of the dying fire and promptly went to sleep.
She slept very soundly, and when she stirred just before dawn she wondered if she’d dreamed that a figure had stooped over her in the night then continued past her. Her sleep had been heavy and she felt quite stiff. Several women were moving around. Another woman sat breast-feeding her baby. Two of the women picked up some water gourds and a plastic bucket and headed outside to fetch water. Julie followed them to freshen up and find some privacy.
The morning was coolly crisp, mist swirling away over the jungle, and the sun not yet up. The world was utterly peaceful.
Julie joined the women in the river, and they giggled as she shivered in the cold water. One handed her a spare sarong to dry herself and when she hurried back to the longhouse the smell of the wood fire and the blue curl of smoke coming from the kitchen was a welcome sign that breakfast was underway.
David looked bleary eyed as he sat cross-legged in the ruai, a blanket around his shoulders, poking at the remains of the small fire in an attempt to get a blaze going.
‘Good morning, David,’ said Julie coolly.
He grunted. ‘Bloody tuak. Gets you every time.’
‘Not me,’ said Julie as she went to dress, thinking how annoyed she was with him. While she could dismiss his drunken pass at her as the result of too much rice wine, he had, nevertheless, sunk in her estimation and she found she actually didn’t like him very much at all. She appreciated his help with her mother’s bypass fight and the fact that he’d opened a door to her family’s past, but these actions didn’t give him any rights of possession, which he’d been suggesting, not just last night, but for the last few days. Now she wondered how she was going to put up with him for the rest of the week.
Nevertheless the day passed quickly and was full of interest. Tuai James, acting as tour guide, took them into the jungle, showing the area that had been cleared for their rice fields and other crops. He gave them a demonstration of hunting with the blowpipe, though he said that it was seldom used these days. By the river they watched the Iban catch fish by herding them into the big woven nets and traps and, finally, a group of men showed them how they cleared the jungle with the large and lethal parangs.
They came to a beautiful, clear stream in a magical setting and waded upstream while Tuai James pointed out plants, monkeys and the paw print of a large animal. Barry filmed it all, including the time spent just sitting and smoking. By the time they trudged back to the long-house it was sunset and Julie found that bathing in the river with the women and children that evening was a cool and welcome relief.
There was no singing and dancing that night. After the meal Tuai Jimbun lay back with his cigarette and everyone settled comfortably,