Officialdom closed the toilets along the beach area so that you had to shit in the bushes. The dangerous thing was thrusting your butt into the shrubbery, because there it could have been bitten by any dugite. I did not relish that idea. I had the minor consolation that my excrement would be landing on his or her head. In the end being bitten would not feel hurt.
In any case not if they killed all the nuns in the world could they get us to repent. They would keep on killing them. I went to Resthaven on that weekend; we had to wander around in the baking sunshine and digest the killings, which had no meaning to me, a child. So many ways we had to make recompense --- like lying on the bed in the midst of an afternoon when we had rather be out running or visiting a Christian retreat where we would have "a rest" and let the adults try to process their traumas, which we had nothing to do with and were never adequately explained.
You stuck your arse-end into the trees and expected not to get bitten by a dugite. That was the least of our worries in a land that was mostly forgiving, but not like much of Africa which was on the flipside.
Noni the cat had not visited us for weeks, which was probably a sign or our neglect and general deterioration. We were starting to take things for granted, such as the idea that it was better to have an easier life than to have one that is difficult. Risks were on principle to be avoided.
I accepted that as a necessity although a large, repressed part felt terribly diminished and put-upon.
In any case not if they killed all the nuns in the world could they get us to repent. They would keep on killing them. I went to Resthaven on that weekend; we had to wander around in the baking sunshine and digest the killings, which had no meaning to me, a child. So many ways we had to make recompense --- like lying on the bed in the midst of an afternoon when we had rather be out running or visiting a Christian retreat where we would have "a rest" and let the adults try to process their traumas, which we had nothing to do with and were never adequately explained.
You stuck your arse-end into the trees and expected not to get bitten by a dugite. That was the least of our worries in a land that was mostly forgiving, but not like much of Africa which was on the flipside.
Noni the cat had not visited us for weeks, which was probably a sign or our neglect and general deterioration. We were starting to take things for granted, such as the idea that it was better to have an easier life than to have one that is difficult. Risks were on principle to be avoided.
I accepted that as a necessity although a large, repressed part felt terribly diminished and put-upon.
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