Breakwater Drive to Wanneroo Road, and Desi is soaked with sweat by the time she reaches it. She has never hitched before, and it is hard to pluck up the nerve to begin sticking her thumb out as the trucks approach. She has heard too many stories to believe this is a good idea, but she has no other choice.
Her first ride is with an old-timer called Harry, and he berates her all the way for hitching alone. Taking her under his wing, when they reach a rest stop he speaks to other drivers and arranges the remainder of her journey as far as the Overlander, the outback roadhouse six hundred kilometres from Perth that marks the turn-off towards the Shark Bay peninsula and Monkey Mia. By the time she sets off on the second leg, darkness has fallen and she tries to sleep. There is one hard bump as they speed along, and she opens her eyes.
‘What was that?’ she asks the driver, who she can barely make out beyond a bulky silhouette.
‘If I stopped for roos, I’d never get there,’ he snaps.
She shivers, tries not to think about it. But she cannot sleep again. Instead, she witnesses the headlights picking out dead marsupials that line the verges like macabre route markers, their bodies ravaged by scavenging birds, leaving only empty pockets of fur and whitened bones.
The Overlander is just a servo with a rugged campsite, but when they arrive there late she is grateful to get some hot food. She lies down on a bench, and a tourist couple take pity on her and offer for her to go with them up Shark Bay Road to Denham as soon as it’s light. It is only a couple of hours’ journey, but she is glad to get out of their car, since the man drives terrifyingly fast with their stereo on full volume. On the last part of the trip, she takes the morning supply truck between the town of Denham and Monkey Mia. She had expected more questions, but people here are accepting. ‘So you’re on the dolphin pilgrimage?’ asks the woman as they head out of town, and when she says yes it seems nothing else needs to be said, and they travel in comfortable silence.
Desi is dirty and exhausted by the time she is dropped off at the caravan park. It is still early morning, and the office isn’t open yet, so she can’t even ask for Connor. She hurries down to the beach, unsure whether her legs are trembling from tiredness or something else. Now she has reached her destination, the whole trip seems crazy. She has so little money that if she can’t find Connor she will probably have to turn around and go straight home this afternoon.
She wanders down to the beach, where a few people are already in the shallows. She sits on the cool sand and watches the water. She is so, so tired, and slowly she drifts off.
She is woken by a shout. ‘They’re here!’
Desi opens her eyes to see more people arriving at the water’s edge. Excitement douses her drowsiness. She leaves her pack on the sand and walks down towards the sea.
There in the shallows, the water less than knee-deep and clear as polished glass, a large silver-grey dolphin is lolling on its side, one small, very human-like eye perusing the people above her. As Desi joins the group, the dolphin glides slowly past her legs, close enough to touch, and for a moment Desi is the focus of this languid assessment. As more people join in, the dolphin continues to swim up and down the line. A few people reach out to touch her, which she doesn’t seem to mind until one person gives her an affectionate rub on the head. She jerks away, lifts her tail and slaps it against the water, and then swims to join three more dolphins who wait in parallel lines beyond reach.
‘You know what’s special about this place?’ says a voice behind her. ‘Every day that they come in here, it’s their choice.’ She turns around to see Connor smiling at her. ‘I thought it was you,’ he says. ‘You look … exhausted.’
She is so relieved to see him. Her heart races as she musters a nervous smile in return. ‘I came to see if the research assistant position is still open.’ Behind her back, she crosses her fingers.
Connor glances at a tall young man standing next to him. ‘I guess