To black stump - Epilogue

A man is walking slowly along the edge of the Stuart Highway.
The road, known also as the A87, is running down the back-bone of Australia, slicing the outback in two. Conquering the unconquerable, a passage through the wasteland.
The man’s name is Walter Seddon. People tend to call him Walt.
If you could follow his trail – and there are footsteps still to follow through the dirt – you’d find your way to a place known as black stump, but you might never realise you’d arrived there.
Black stump is a place like any other. It’s miles out in the bush. There’s nothing there. Just a long dead tree and memories.
A truck’s coming along the highway now. The sun is beating down. In a few minutes the driver’s going to see the weary traveller and stop to ask if he’s okay. The traveller will smile and say he’s doing just fine. “Bonza”, he might say that.
He’ll be invited to climb aboard. He’ll say thanks and introduce himself as Walter. The driver will tell Walter that he’s pleased to meet him. And he is, very pleased.
The driver’s name is Bill and he hates to travel alone, without conversation. Never thought he’d see a hitchhiker out here though.
Walter will ask Bill if he’s ever heard of a place called black stump. He’ll reply that everywhere around here, to the left and right of the highway is out past black stump. Walter will nod and tell him he’s quite right, and maybe the story won’t go any further.
Bill is heading up to Darwin, on the north coast. Walter will spend much of the journey considering his next move, after Bill asks him how far he wants to go. Alice Springs is the name buzzing around in his head. But another name in there is Pattie.
We’ll leave them here now, leave the truck to roll on north. They’ll be okay now, Bill and Walt.
Let’s go back, instead, right across the great sweeping vista of the red sands, green-brown bushes and skeletal trees. Back to a place known as black stump.
There’s a man there, in a clearing, sitting. He’s perched there, upon black stump.
The man’s name is Derek Tanner. He lives in a place called Wilder’s Creek. But the outback is also a home to him, and his favourite resting place, his favourite seat in the whole damn country, is something which he calls black stump.
He’s smiling now. He’s just sitting there and smiling.

The End