We make a damned odd couple!She was right, they did. Jake hard yet supple, like whip-cord, and Liz soft and curvy. Him with his dark background and current ... condition, and Liz with her - - Which was when they hit a pothole, which simultaneously brought Liz's mind back to earth while lifting her backside eight inches off her seat. 'Jake, take it easy!' she gasped.He nodded, in no way apologetically, almost absent-mindedly. He had turned his head to look at her - no, Liz corrected herself - to look beyond her, westward where the rounded domes of gaunt, yellow- and red-ochre hills marched parallel with the road. They were pitted, those hills, pockmarked even from here. The same could be said of the desert all around, including the so-called road. 'These old mine workings,' Jake growled. 'Gold mines. That was subsidence back there, where the road is sinking into some old mine. I didn't see it because of this bloody heat haze.''Gold?' Squirming down into her seat, Liz tried to get comfortable again. Hah! she thought. As if I'd been comfortable in the first place!
'They found a few nuggets here/ he told her. 'There was a bit of a gold rush that didn't pan out. There may be gold here - there
probably is - but first you have to survive to bring it up out of the ground. It just wasn't worth it ...''Because even without this awful El Nino weather, this was one hell of an inhospitable place to survive in/ she nodded.'Right/ Finally Jake glanced at her - at her this time. And while he was still looking she grinned nervously and said:'What a place to spend your honeymoon! I should never have let you talk me into it/ A witticism, of course.'Huh!' was his reply. Shielding his eyes, he switched his attention back to the rounded hills with the sun's rim sitting on them like a golden, pus-filled blister on the slumping hip of some gigantic, reclining, decomposing woman.'Fuel gauge is low/ Liz tapped on the gauge with a fingernail. 'Are we sure there's a gas station out here?' In fact she knew there was; it was right there on the map. It was just the awful heat, the condition of the road, evening setting in, and a perfectly normal case of nerves. Liz's tended to fray a little from time to time. As for Jake's ... well, she wasn't entirely sure about his, didn't even know if he had any.'Gas station?' He glanced at her again. 'Sure there is. To service the local "community". Heck, around these parts there's point nine persons per hundred square miles!' While Jake's sarcasm dripped, it wasn't directed entirely at Liz but rather at their situation. Moreover, she thought she detected an unfamiliar edge to his voice. So perhaps he did have nerves after all. But still his completely humourless attitude irritated her.
'That many people? Really?' For a moment she'd felt goaded into playing this insufferable man at his own game ... but only for a moment. Then, shrugging, she let it go. 'So what's it doing here? The gas station, I mean/
'It's a relic of the gold rush he answered. 'The Australian Government keeps such places going with subsidies, or they simply couldn't exist. They're watering holes in the middle of nowhere, way stations for the occasional wanderer. Don't expect too much, though. Maybe a bottle of warm beer - make sure you knock the cap off yourself... yes, I know you know that - no food, and if you need the loo you'd better do it before we get there.' Good advice, around these parts.The road vanished about a mile ahead: an optical illusion, just like the heat haze. As the hills got higher, so the road began to climb, making everything seem on a level, horizontal. Only the throb of the motor told the truth: that the Land Rover was in fact labouring, however slightly. And in another minute they crested the rise.Then Jake brought the vehicle to a halt and they both went off into the scrub fifty yards in different directions. He got back first, was leaning on his open door, peering through binoculars and checking the way ahead when Liz returned.'See anything?' she asked, secretly admiring Jake where he stood unselfconsciously posed, with one booted foot on the door sill, his jeans outlining a small backside and narrow hips.