“Nothing worse than unripe tropical fruit”, muttered Garnet to no-one in particular as she stabbed the pallid orange cubes in their plastic punnet. Mango was meant to be fleshy, aromatic and messy, not like these bullets of sadness.
And that’s all it took for Garnet to book a one way ticket home to northern Queensland. London had seemed like a good time, at the time. Snow, centuries old buildings, Big Ben, quick trips to the continent, the promise of a French boyfriend. The reality was a low wage nannying job, a mouldy bedsit, gun metal skies and loneliness as a constant companion.
Queensland didn’t have a summer; it was either the wet season or the dry season. The wet was Garnet’s favourite. It came to her in her dreams through the smell of watermelons, ylang ylang and warm rain on hot tarmac. The memory of humidity hugged her like a long lost lover.
Garnet didn’t have time to tell her family she was heading back to Yarrabah. Shame hung heavy on her shoulders as she recalled her leaving pronouncements along the lines of getting out of this steamy hell hole and making it as a writer in London, Paris or Vienna. Yet here she was, ecstatic to be back. But also not ready to face the community, without a poetic spin on her premature return.
The vision of eating a mango, knee deep in tropical waters, kept Garnet going on the grim 28 hour flight home. An airport hire car, a roadside stall and a bush track; her dream was close to manifest.
Dusk at Mulliwillimbah Waters was surely where the word sublime was conceived. Cassowaries trotted alongside her between ancient mangrove plants, their roots submerged in hot muddy water. A cicada chorus welcomed her to the white strip of sand that edged the cyan sea. Kookaburras laughed at the surrounding splendour.
The sun was a sinking vermillion ball that pulled down a burnt orange sky. Garnet waded into the water and bit into the skin of her mango, sighing as she smelt its familiar perfume. Amber nectar ran to her elbows as she greedily sucked the stringy flesh.
It was almost enough to distract her from the sharp tug on her leg. And then another one. Why was the water starting to match the colour of the sky? The red ink rippled out in waves, watercolour beautiful. Garnet could only think in snatched words – dusk, crocodiles, danger – before a last tug turned switched out the colours to inky black.
Queensland Herald
22nd February 2022
Human Arm Washes up on northern beach
Queensland Police have found the arm of what they believe to be a young woman. The left hand limb with hand intact, was found south of Yarrabah harbour by a spear fisherman. A small tattoo of a mango is situated on the inner wrist.
Anyone able to help the police in identifying the individual should contact the police on 99 000.
