The Pole Shift

Mnem and the Old Woman

The Van  took the dirt track as if it were hungry, Mnem didn't drive it carefully, not bothering to edge passed large rocks or pot holes.  At one point she drifted to the edge and fat wheels spilled scree down the slope. Near the top a row of thigh high boulders had been placed, not so big that they couldn't be moved by  strong men, but acute enough to stop a car. The Van's front driver's  wheel met the obstacle and rose up, as if it was taking a step. In moments it had rumbled over, hardly moving the barrier. The van came to a stop under the enormous gum tree, around it were tents and four wheel drives.  There was construction going on, but she couldn't tell of what.  Women, and a dozen young children had watched her navigate the barrier with trepidation.  It wasn't until they heard the men's approach below that they took a breath.

                 She got out of the van, the hen had been chattering away and still clung to her hair. Mnem strode to the gumtree and placed her palm upon the mottled brown trunk. "Hello." she said. A woman's voice behind her returned the greeting, not realising Mnem had been addressing the tree.

                "Hello back, and what do you think you are up to little Miss Missy?" The woman's voice was sharp and old, cranky. Mnem hadn't listened, she was looking at the bark of the tree. A line of ants wound up and she traced their journey until she lost sight of them, she sighed, as if you couldn't win them all. The sparrow hen had untangled itself and shot up to the tree, it flitted  from branch to branch until she lost sight of it too.

                "What are you up to Hen?" Mnem said, and the voice behind her bristled.

                "Hen? Are you calling me a chook?" Mnem was poked hard in the middle of her back. She turned with an ouch on her lips. She seemed genuinely surprised to see the aged woman.

                "Oh hello! I might stay here for a while, I need to figure out how to sleep in the van, and I think the hen wants to find the others." The woman shifted her weight, she wore ill fitting jeans and a black fleece with 'Poker Stars' emblazed across the chest.

                "Oh will you now!? Who is this Hen, who are these others?" The older woman had found her stride and took a step towards Mnem again, giving her another sharp poke in the middle of her chest. Her index finger was crooked, it looked like it had poked a million times.

                "The other sparrows." Mnem was sharply drawn out of her own world and into the old woman's, the hairs on her arms prickled, and she felt the nape of her neck gather blood. The old woman's voice had taken on a witches scold, and with a poke of her iron finger she said:

                "No Others!" Poke.

                "No Hen!" Poke.

                "No Little Miss Missy!"  Two pokes. Mnem fought to exit the world of the terrible woman. She looked up at the tree, where was the hen? She turned away and walked around the old gnarled gum looking, but the hen had gone. The old woman was enraged. She was briefly pleased to see tears in the dark headed loons eyes, but to have the girl disregard her and carry on with whatever craziness she was doing filled her with frigid rage. She rolled up the sleeve of her right arm, ready to introduce the girl to her knuckles.

                "Stop." It was her son's voice. The old woman looked behind her, everyone was there. Usually there would be some egging on, but the silence was telling. "Let's get to know her first."