The Opal Dragon’ is a rewrite asked for by an Adelaide movie producer Mark Evans. He wanted one of the town thieves to be bought to the fore in this book.
Ali The Dragon a small-time pimp and thief in the local market steals a bag of money and jewelry and enters the local drug trade.
He leaves the Philippines after hearing the local mafia is going to teach him and his mother to swim with chain around their legs. He murders one of the Mafia boss’s before leaving for Australia. He finds the local opal industry and joins with the local opal thieves to buy their opal.
The characters from Opal Eggs Of fire are included in a Bryce Courtney style where the two opposing characters cross paths in this book.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1503219526 http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07KHV78TL kindle
https://youtu.be/mI2zyyWYrmg
The Opal Dragon’ is a rewrite asked for by an Adelaide movie producer Mark Evans. He wanted one of the town thieves to be bought to the fore in this book.
Ali The Dragon a small-time pimp and thief in the local market steals a bag of money and jewelry and enters the local drug trade.
He leaves the Philippines after hearing the local mafia is going to teach him and his mother to swim with chain around their legs. He murders one of the Mafia boss’s before leaving for Australia. He finds the local opal industry and joins with the local opal thieves to buy their opal.
The characters from Opal Eggs Of fire are included in a Bryce Courtney style where the two opposing characters cross paths in this book.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1503219526 http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07KHV78TL kindle
https://youtu.be/mI2zyyWYrmg
Ali had been following the old silver merchant for three weeks to try to work out a pattern to his coming and goings from his shop to his home in the early evening. He found that the merchant varied the route taken to his home during the weekdays, but on Saturday nights when he had to carry the large kit-bag with the week’s takings, he would take the most direct route to his house. There was a dark, deserted part of the trip in a small lane going past unused old warehouses. The broken windows gaped out from the crumbling walls behind the toothy bars.
The cobbled laneway leading down this lane was too narrow for a car to fit. The only traffic could be the pushcarts and bicycle rickshaw type of vehicles. Trash lay strewn over the cobble-stones and heaped against the dirty walls. The fetid air was clinging to the walls and all who passed by.
There was a doorway set into a wall just around the corner of this dingy alley-way. Ali had been following the merchant and had run down the parallel alleyway and crossed into the alley and hid in the dark doorway,
The steps of the old merchant could be heard hurriedly walking his way toward the hiding place. He was ready to spring out. The merchant quickly passed by, not seeing the hiding lad.
With a flying leap, Ali launched himself out of the doorway and, using his shoulder, hit the old man in the middle of the back; the old man tumbled forward using the bag to break his fall. Ali grabbed onto the handle of the kit-bag after the old man toppled to the ground. He tried to pull the bag out of the old man’s grasp, to no avail; the old man had a strong grip on the handle. The old man started to scream, “Help, thief,
help me I am being robbed.”
The old man grasped Ali’s other arm and started to pull himself up; his grip was surprisingly powerful; the old man swore at Ali as he struggled to regain his feet; Ali felt that the surprise attack was starting to be turned in the favour of the old man. Ali was in trouble, he let the handle of the bag go, and then reached into his pocket and grabbed the handle of the flick knife he always carried, as he took it out of his pocket he pressed the release of the knife blade, the blade shot out of the handle, he felt the click as the blade fully opened. He pushed the knife blade into the old man’s chest. The old trader let go of Ali’s arm and the bag and grasped at the knife in his chest; he let out a loud scream.
After a short while, Ali heard the noise of people yelling in the distance; he grabbed the large bag and ran as fast as he could away from the sound of the mob. He could hear the mob stop at the old man, then talk to him, then start to run toward where Ali had left the scene of the crime. As he fled, he knew the area he was travelling very well, as he had lived in this part of town all of his nineteen years and had played through these alleys with other children from when he was a child.
Ali’s mother, Zeena, was a local prostitute; he survived by working the markets, pilfering from any unsuspecting stallholder, and being a pimp for his mother. The robbery of the trader was the first try at a real robbery.
The rowdy mob noise had abated as he turned the corner for home; Ali could not hear the yelling of the mob now. He was exhausted from running and carrying the heavy kit-bag; he could not find the door key when searching in his pocket. He banged on the door of a crumbling old building; he banged again. Finally, the door opened, and a woman in a torn blue silk dressing gown scowled, then said, “I told
you not to come home early tonight; I have a customer; where is your key?” Ali was puffing from the effort of running with the bag, “I am in
trouble; I have lost my key, let me inside,” Zeena stepped back, and Ali ran past her carrying the heavy bag. “What have you got there?” she yelled after him as he fled; Ali turned back, “You will find out soon.”
He went to his small room and turned on the dim light. He lifted the case onto his bed and then tried to open it by twisting and pulling, but the lock was surprisingly strong; he left the case and went to the cooking room and selected a pointy knife from a drawer in a cupboard. As he walked back to his room, he could hear Zeena urging her lover to have more sex. She was desperate to keep the waning numbers of customers who visited her.
After some effort with the knife, the lock snapped open; Ali tipped the contents of the case out onto his bed; there were six small gold bars and fifteen silver ingots, and some finished jewellery with gemstones set in them and a large lot of banknotes.
The wads of money were thick; Ali started to count a bundle of US dollars. There were five thousand dollars; after thinking for a short time, he counted out a thousand to give to Zeena to help with the finances as she was having a hard time coping.
Zeena had been a very beautiful woman in her younger days and commanded high prices for her services. Childbirth, drugs, and now being nearly fifty years old had taken their toll. Her quality clients and generous payments had diminished considerably.
There had been some very violent clients. Although he was small in stature, Ali had tried to help Zeena when he had been in another part of the house. He would come to help her when he heard the yelling and abuse. He had been assaulted by these men on many occasions.
He picked up the kit bag and carried it to the door of the house. He then opened the door, careful not to make a sound put the heavy bag down, then stepped out into the street and looked each way along the dimly lit street. When he was sure he would not be seen, he pulled the bag from the doorway, then slipped out of the house, then took the kitbag and headed for the Wharf area. He had a special old deserted warehouse in which he used to hide some of the spoils of his small pilfering.
The quarter moon was enough for him to see as he quickly ran through the dim streets. He was barked at by a very large dog as he passed a fenced-in area. The dog hit the fence with force, rattling his resolve. Finally, the door with the roofing iron sheets screwed to it to keep out vandals was in front of him.
With some effort, Ali pulled one corner of the iron aside, some of the screws had pulled out of the rotting wood of the door; he then slipped the kit-bag inside the gap, he then followed it through the hole. There was just enough moon-light filtering through the broken windows behind the steel bars to navigate to the fallen-down inside wall. He pulled a pile of bricks away to reveal a deep niche in the solid part of the wall; he pushed the bag inside then built a drywall across the entrance to the niche with some of the old bricks, then scattered the rest of the bricks to look as if they had fallen down onto the floor. Ali pushed the screws back into the holes in the door to make the entrance at least look impenetrable.
Three times Ali banged on the door before Zeena opened it. “Where have you been?” “I will tell you later,” “Are you in trouble?” Ali slipped past Zeena and headed for his room. “A little bit, I will tell you in the
morning; I am very tired.” Zeena’s customer had left by now. Zeena had second thoughts about confronting Ali; she then turned toward her bedroom.
Ali rose from his small bed and washed his hands and face in the basin on the box which was used for furniture in the corner of his room; after drying himself off with some rags, he walked out to the eating area. It was still quite early in the morning. Zeena was heating some food on the Primus stove on top of the cupboard. He pulled out a wooden chair, which made a squealing sound; he sat down at the rickety wooden table. A loaf of bread and a quarter of some cheese was on the table; he broke off a piece of bread from the loaf on the table, then cut a piece of cheese and folded the cheese into the bread,
When he finished eating the food, he then reached into his pocket and took something round out; Ali walked over to Zeena, who was watching the Primus stove; he then handed her the roll of a thousand dollars. She counted the money. “There are a thousand dollars in here,” she said with an amazed look on her face. “I have a lot more than that in the bag, and
gold, silver, and jewellery.” Ali told Zeena about the robbery and how the old man and the mob nearly caught him.”
“I have not looked after you all of these nineteen years to have you be killed by a mob or have you put into jail. Bad things happen to young men like you when they are in jail, things you would not want to think about” Ali was touched by this conversation as Zeena had always cursed him for losing her good looks and being in the way. Zeena put her arm around Ali’s shoulder and hugged him; he was very touched by the hug as he had always felt he was in the way.” Are the bag and money safe? “ Ali assured her that the bag was hidden very well in a safe place.
Not long after he had left, Zeena had a knock on the door; she opened the door to see a police officer standing on the doorstep. “Was your son Ali out on the street last night?” “No, he was home with me all night.” The policeman sneered and showed a look of disbelief. “Are you sure? “Zeena then glared at him. “I have a witness.” Zeena stepped back into the doorway further. “Who was it? What is his name”? ’’I cannot tell you that he is a town official, and I do not want his wife to find that he was here. I would be in big trouble”. The policeman grunted in disbelief and shrugged his shoulders, “I will be back again,” he said in a nasty tone; he then turned and left. He stopped at another house down the street and asked the same questions about the people’s son.
There was a good crowd at the market; Ali met some of his friends. This was their favorite meeting ground. Youssef asked where he had been lately, “I have been checking a new market on the other side of the town; I have been busy and have found some easy pickings.”
“Someone found some easy pickings when they stabbed the old silver merchant last night. People in the market are saying that the robber got a hundred thousand dollars in gold, silver, and cash”, said Youssef. “Where did this happen “asked Ali, to make sure he was not implicated in any way.“It was in the dark alley by the old warehouse near his home. There is still blood on the ground. Do you want to come and see”? “No, thanks. What happened to the merchant?” “I have heard he is OK. The police have the knife. They will have the robber’s fingerprints”. Ali changed the conversation subject, pointing out one of the new pretty girls working in the stall nearby. He then bid goodbye to his friend and left for home. He had found that the silver merchant had not died. He felt a wave of relief at this news.
“The police have been here looking for you, Ali.” He was taken aback at this news. “I am worried that the police have got my knife and could get my fingerprints. I have also lost my house key. If that key was found at the scene of the robbery, the police might be able to match it to our door.” Zeena thought for a few seconds, “I think you should leave town and go to see my sister in the mountains, I have heard her husband has died, and she is living alone.” Ali thought for a while; he then agreed to this plan as he did not want to be caught by the police. Evidently, the old man had recognised him from the market.
Zeena went to the cupboard and found a piece of paper and pencil, and then wrote the name of the small village her sister Sasha lived in on it; she described to Ali how to get to this village. The village was where Zeena had grown lived when she was a child.
This suited Ali; he agreed that it would be a good idea to leave town for a while until things died down. He went to his room and packed his clothes then put them into a Hessian bag, then tied the top with some twine. Zeena handed Ali one hundred dollars out of the money Ali had given her.
As Ali was ready to leave, Zeena gave him a kiss on the lips and a big hug; she had tears forming in the corner of her eyes.” You make sure you look after yourself; I will miss you” Ali was very touched by this showing of love by Zeena and was a bit teary as he left to walk to the bus depot.
There seemed to be a lot of police checking in the markets; he tried to keep from open areas where he may have been seen. Ali walked around the edge of the market and found his way to the bus depot from a small side laneway.
Being in the open bus depot worried Ali as he waited in line to purchase a ticket for the bus. He was worried every time a policeman walked by. He tried to make himself inconspicuous as he waited for the time to board the bus by being in a darkened corner reading a magazine from the old book rack.
Finally, the driver called for passengers to board the old bus that would pass through the village where Zeena’s sister Sasha lived.
The old Ford bus was full of people and animals. There were old men, women, babies, small snotty-nosed children, some chickens in cages, and two goats at the rear of the bus. The roof of the bus was loaded with freight in bags and boxes. The animal smell in the bus was not nice, but the smell of the tobacco; some of the passengers were smoking was revolting. It smelled like burning dog manure.
The old bus wound its way around the edges of the steep passes in the mountain, with thick tall trees and jungle, then crossing flimsy narrow bridges with steep drops beneath. The road surfaces were uneven; the old bus would sway from side to side as it moved along the poorly repaired roadway.
It was shaking the passengers violently from side to side; with the high load of freight tied on top of the bus, Ali was worried that the old bus might tip over and roll down to the bottom of one of the steep gorges.
When travelling downhill toward some of the streams or rivers, the brakes would squeal in protest. The bus stopped at every small town and village. People and animals alighted, more got on. There was even a large pig as a passenger. This pig did not like the idea of climbing into the crowded bus; it finally succumbed to the pushing and shoving to get her on the bus; she was restrained in the rear of the bus by a flimsy wooden gate made from sticks tied together with twine. This was tied to the rear of the seats.
As the bus climbed higher into the mountains, the air got cooler. The smelly pig left the bus after two more stops. People on the bus gave her a wide berth as she did not seem to be very happy after her trip. She was frothing at the mouth and trying to snap at the people.
Finally, the bus pulled into the small village where Sasha lived. The small village had a square for the market and an assortment of dilapidated crumbling houses around it, and the same style of old houses led off the square into narrow laneways. An impressive Catholic church took up a large area on one corner of the square. This church was built of dressed square stone blocks and had a tall steeple with a large bell. The church looked very old.
The bus pulled up near to the front of the church. Ali and three other people alighted from the bus. Some freight was taken off the roof by the driver and one of the alighting passengers.
The driver resumed his seat, then started the motor. Blue smoke poured from the exhaust pipe as the motor revved up; the old bus grated its gears as it drove slowly off along the wide street which led to the road, heading toward the next village. The worn gears whined as the bus picked up speed. The smell of the tobacco clung to Ali’s clothes and skin. The clean mountain air was a relief from the stench of the bus.
He was unsure as to whether Sasha still lived in the village; he walked along the road and found a small shop. As he entered, a stooped old man came from the shop's rear section and enquired as to whether he could help Ali. Ali asked about Sasha. The old man knew Sasha and described how to get to her land and house plot, “The poor lady is very lonely where she lives by herself. She does not come to the village very often since her husband has died.” He pulled a small piece of paper off the roll on the shop counter and drew a small map to show Ali the way to the house. Ali thanked the man and left for the trip ahead, carrying the bag of clothes over his shoulder.
He headed out along the road the bus had taken, then turned onto a narrow track leading toward a small river. There were small plots of land with thatched roof houses, palm trees, and a few animals. After walking two kilometres, Ali crossed the small river on a rickety bridge. There were small rice paddies near this river. Some paddies had animals and people working in them.
The road had ruts carved into the surface from the thin wheels of the wooden carts, which were towed by a buffalo in a yoke. Two of these carts had passed by, going toward the village with produce for the market.
The woman was stooped over hoeing a field near the small raised timber house with a thatched roof. Ali walked over to her. As she looked up, he noticed a tired look on her once pretty face. Her hands were calloused from the hard daily toil. She looked at Ali with a hint of suspicion. “What do you want? I have nothing for beggars; I am very poor”. She started to turn back to her work. Ali turned toward her to show his features. “I am Zeena’s son,” the woman looked closely at him,” I can see her in your eyes. Is your mother dead?”
He assured her that Zeena was not dead and was well. Sasha sighed and dropped her shoulders, “Your mother got into a bad business. Has she changed her ways?”. “No, she has not, and as her looks have faded, she has been finding life hard.” “We all have a hard life, boy; I only grow enough food to feed myself. I hope you are not looking to live here . I have no money”.
Upon hearing this, Ali reached into his pocket, took out the money, peeled off twenty dollars, and handed it to Sasha; she took the money. “Are you in trouble, boy?” “Yes, one of my mother’s lovers was beating her, and I hit him with a chair. He has threatened to castrate me if he catches me,” Ali lied. “Nothing seems to have changed with your mother then. Trouble, followed again by more trouble.”
Sasha looked at the money and then thought for a minute, “I could buy a goat with this money and have milk and be able to sell cheese.” Sasha stood the hoe next to a small rock then walked toward the house. “Come, boy, and have some food.”
As he entered the small house, he noticed that the furnishing was very sparse but scrubbed clean. Sasha showed Ali where to put his bag of clothes in a tiny room with a thin mattress on the floor.
The house had the aroma of something exotic, the spicy smell of food that had been cooked. A hint of curry and spices filled the air of the small house.
After fanning the flames to catch the tinder on fire, Sasha lit a small fire in the hob and placed a pot on the flames to heat the contents. The smoke from the fire mixed with the aromas of the food; as the food heated, Sasha collected two bowls from a cupboard on which there was a large bowl for washing; using a large wooden spoon, she ladled some food into the bowls, “I was not expecting company. I very rarely ever see another person here in my house. You are lucky there was enough food” she grumbled. The food was a mixture of rice and vegetables. It was flavored with curry and other herbs and was delicious to eat.
The birds' song in the trees near the house woke Ali early in the morning; for a moment, he did not know where he was. The bird’s song was different from the din of the town. During the night, he had thought a lot about his first impressions of Sasha. She had seemed to be very grumpy at the idea of having a new house guest.
Sasha greeted Ali as he stepped into the eating area. The last of the food in the pot was served up for the morning meal. Sasha smiled at Ali. ”I have been by myself so long that I have forgotten what it is like to have another person to care for and to have a conversation to. I thought about this last night. I think it will be a good change for me” He felt relieved at this conversation. “What are we going to be doing today?“ Sasha looked kindly at Ali.” I am digging a plot to plant some yams”.
Ali went with Sasha to the small plot of land she was hoeing and helped her by pulling up some tall weeds. The yams had then been sown into the warm moist earth. Sasha had shown Ali how to plant the yams.
That evening he found that Sasha was indeed a very good cook with the herbs she grew on the small plot of land. Ali complemented Sasha as to the tasty food which she cooked. She was pleased with the compliment. “I have tried to keep up my cooking skills, even though I have been living in the house by myself”.
Sasha also had a small rice paddy about a half-mile away near the river bridge. The next morning, she took him to the river and showed Ali the very small plot of rice growing in the paddy. Ali carried two buckets on a yoke around his shoulders for water for the house. Sasha rolled up her dress, walked into the muddy water, and pulled the tall weeds growing between the small rice plants. Ali put down the buckets and removed the yoke; he then stepped into the soft mud under the water and started to help, following her instructions. After a half-hour, he looked down at his legs and saw three slimy leeches attached to his lower legs. He jumped out of the water onto the bank of the paddy; he had never seen a thing as revolting as the slimy blood-sucking creatures; Sasha also stepped out. She also had some leeches feeding on her legs. She laughed, “These leeches are like a lot of people I have met. They will suck the blood out of you at every chance they get “, with a deft movement, she removed her and Ali’s leeches by sliding her fingernail up toward the leeches mouth to break the suction which held it on. She then tossed them onto the dry, hot bank of the paddy. The leeches writhed in anger at being taken from the food source. Sasha and Ali’s legs bled for a while. After the bleeding stopped, they went back to work
The sun was just starting to show a red glow in the clouds when they left the rice paddy; they had finished the chore. As Ali carried the two buckets of water, Sasha said, “When we come back here tomorrow, I will bring us a fishing pole to show you how to catch the fish in the river. The fish like to eat the leeches.
The next day Sasha took the fishing rod with a line and fishhook attached to the cane pole's thin end. ‘I think, now I should show you how to catch the fish in the river” As they walked to the river, Sasha hummed a tune. She was happy at having company. The leeches were saved in a small jar with a lid; they were not happy at being in the jar as they writhed around in anger. Later in the day, when tending the rice paddy was ended, she asked Ali to pick up the fishing pole and leeches. They walked to the small stream.
A large tree stood on the bank of the small, slowly meandering stream; the roots of the tree protruded over the water, which was two meters below. The shade of the tree kept the hot sun off their backs.
Ali looked into the murky water and noticed the silver fish's flash as they chased their prey. They both nestled in a comfortable spot on the web of roots; Sasha took the hook on the end of the twine then removed one of the leeches from the jar, then threaded the wriggling creature onto the sharp hook; the leech did not appreciate this very much. The hook was lowered into the water. The pole jerked sharply in a short time; Sasha lifted it out of the water with a silver fish of about twenty centimetres long wriggling frantically on the hook.
The fish was laid on the bank behind them and covered with some grass to keep the sun off. Sasha handed the pole to Ali. He did not like the feel of the leech very much but persevered and threaded it to the fishhook ready to fish. He lowered it to the water and almost dropped the pole when the next fish was hooked. Sasha laughed as Ali pulled the fish up.He felt a sense of excitement as the pole was swung up, and the fish landed. He caught another five fish.
Sasha took some twine from her pocket and tied this through the fish’s gills to make it easy to carry them home.
When they arrive, Sasha found a large bowl and then half filled it with water. She showed Ali how to scrape the scales off the fish and then how to cut the fillets off the bones of the fish. ‘You have left too much meat on the bones,’ she admonished him. He tried harder on the next fish and was rewarded with a hug “good boy; you are a quick learner’. The Four fillets were saved for the evening meal. The other eight fillets
had a string tied to the tail and then hung on a piece of string to dry in the afternoon sun. After Sasha had shown him how to catch the fish and fill the two buckets with water for the house and washing, Ali would walk to the river and catch tasty silver fish with the thin bamboo pole line attached to the thin end. He would catch the crickets, leeches, and other insects to attach to the hook for bait to lure the unsuspecting fish onto the shiny hook. The fish would make a nice meal to help with the diet. He would carry them home with the yoke over his shoulders with the two water buckets. The dried fillets lasted a long time before they had to be used.
Some days Ali would share the bank of the river with one or two of the neighbours. He would talk to them and found out a lot of what concerned the poor people living in the mountains. The people laughed a lot and were resigned to their lifestyle as they did not know of any other.Sometimes these people used a cast net to catch the fish in the shallow waters. Ali would talk to the people as they fished. He was interested in their views on life.
One day when talking to some people, Ali noticed a pretty girl of about his age looking intently at him. She was evidently with her father and mother and was helping to catch the fish. Ali had moved closer and had begun to talk to her. Merci was her name
The meetings with Merci started to take on a regular occurrence. Merci would come to the river alone on certain days to catch some fish. Ali worked out when she would be at the river and looked forward to the times they sat and talked while waiting for the fish to take the hook.
The problems of the world with Zeena seemed far away. The people in the village seemed content with the lifestyle which they had inherited from their parents. The church was involved in large part of their lives; the priest was their confessor and adviser.
Ali spent a lot of time talking to learn about people’s outlook on life. After he had taken some produce to the market, he would sit with the men and talk; He would talk of the drugs and crime in the large town where he and Zeena lived.
There was no crime in the village or surrounding area; nearly all of the people were as poor as Sasha. There was an unwritten law about taking from some other person without asking. When one of the people was in trouble or sick, the others always helped repair houses or delivered babies.
When Sasha went with Ali to the market one day, she spent some time looking at many goats that were for sale; after a lot of time inspecting the goats and then a lengthy barter with the owner, she bought herself a nanny goat in milk. The goat was led home with a piece of light dog chain Ali had bought. The chain was then hooked to the wide heavy collar. This was to tether the goat near a weedy patch of the plot that needed to be cleaned up ready to hoe. The goat had a plastic drum with the lid chopped off for her water.
Sasha grew to like the goat; Missy was her name. She talked to her as she squeezed the milk from her teats into a bowl every morning and night; some of the milk was used in the food preparation, but most were let stand to make a tasty cheese.
As she squeezed the milk out, Ali would tease her about the conversations she had with the goat. Sasha would laugh when he did this. Her laughter was like the tinkling sound of water as it trickled down through the rocks in a small steam.
One morning Missy was acting cantankerous. Sasha told Ali that she was in season and looking for a mate. There would be a further chance of more income if the goat were to have a kid.
Sasha asked Ai to take Missy for a trip along the road to be mated with a Billy goat. She described where a man with a herd of goats lived.
Ali took Missy for a walk to the third house along the road to where the goat herd lived. The people who lived on the small plot of land had a small herd of goats. An old man was tending to the goats while the rest of the family were in the fields working. He was filling the water troughs and carrying feed. Ali introduced himself and then asked if the old man would not mind if he were to let Missy be with the Billy goat for the day. The old man laughed and agreed. ”I will have to ask Billy goat first.” He cackled with laughter again. Ali reached into the home-made bamboo leaf basket and took out a special treat, which Sasha had cooked for the Billy goat service trade. The old man smiled, ”Ah, this is Sasha’s special food. I have eaten this before. My goat and I thank you.”
The smelly Billy goat was standing on his hind legs at the fences sniffing the air. He could smell that Missy was in season. He rolled his lips back, showing his dirty yellow teeth, and let out a loud bleat. Missy seemed to be impressed by this show and bleated back. Ali led her through the gate into the Billy goats yard. He was very careful not to turn his back on this cranky goat. Sasha had warned him about getting bunted by the Billygoat. Ali stood back and watched as the Billygoat went through his routine. He first started to hit Missy on the rump with one of his front legs; Missy hunched up to pee; the Billy then stuck his nose into the running stream of urine. He then let out a very loud bleat, rolled his lips back again, and then mounted Missy; after a bit of jabbing in the wrong area, Billy found the home spot and drove his weapon home. He lurched back and forwards a few times, bleating loudly as he completed his task. He then slid off, looking quite exhausted.
The old man was standing next to Ali, ”I think him like that one ok” He cackled with laughter. Ali offered to take Missy out of the pen. “No, you leave her in pen for a while more. He will get it up a few more times yet. You have to make sure he got the job done right” He cackled with laughter again. The Billygoat started to get the routine going again and reared up and mated Missy again. Ali and the old man went to sit in the shade
Both Ali and the old man had eaten the food which Sasha had sent. The Billy had mounted Missy four times in two hours and was standing on the other side of the pen. He was sweating profusely from all of the hard work, this sweating made him smell even worse than normal “I think he a bit too tired to have some more now. I do not think he would have the energy to bunt you now. You can take the nanny out now. I think she full up”.
Ali hooked the chain back to Missies collar and led her from the pen. The Billygoat did not seem to care; He had had his wicked way with her and was no longer interested. Missy did not bother to look back. So much for love in the goat world, Ali thought
Missy was not too energetic on the trip back home. Ali had to stop to give her a breather on two occasions.
The rural life agreed with Ali. He enjoyed tilling the fields to remove the weeds during the day, planting seeds for the melon and other crops. He did not mind even when he was standing in the water of the paddy fields weeding and tending the small rice crop. Then have to pull the blood-sucking leeches off his legs during the day. The leeches were very handy to use to catch some fish for the cooking pot.
As he passed by, Ali would stop and talk to the goat as Sasha did. Missy liked being scratched between the horns, where there was a dandruff-like substance which she had trouble reaching when she scratched herself with her hoof or rubbing herself against a tree.
A real bond had developed between Sasha and Ali; the bond was more of a mother and son bond than Ali had ever experienced before in his life. He and Sasha used to spend long hours talking about their lives and other daily problems as they toiled together side by side in the fields or were sitting at the table for a meal; before going to their beds, Sasha would kiss Ali on the lips.
Sasha had also been able to save some money from the sales of cheese and farming products. Ali was very content with his life. He called to visit Merci when he carried produce to the village to sell. Her father was working in the village repairing houses. His payment was more in the form of trade for food or other necessities than money. Ali spent a lot of time talking to her and her family about the bad times in the other life before meeting them. He would take some of the produce which was going to the market to give her family. Ali would stay and eat with the family before travelling home from the market. Ali and Merci would go outside of the house and talk for hours after the meal.
One evening Ali and Merci had walked hand in hand out of the village to an old tumbledown shed. They had opened the door then sat facing and kissed each other. Ali gently reached out and drew Merci toward him. He loosened the top of the clothes and reached gently for her breast. Merci let out a soft moan and clung tighter to him. She reached down between Ali’s legs and felt his manhood. It was throbbing with desire. Merci parted the folds of the sarong and lay back, gently pulling him with her. She parted her legs. Ali was trembling as he pulled his trousers down. He moved close between Merci’s legs; she reached between them and guided Ali inside her. At this moment, Ali thought he was going to stop breathing. He had never been with a girl before. As he moved and the excitement was almost at its peak, Merci would slow him. ”I want this to last a long time, Ali. Just think of something else so we can start again”. The lovemaking went on for about an hour. When they both climaxed, Ali thought he was going to explode. He had never felt such a sensation in his life before. It was as if fireworks were exploding in his head.
As they walked back to the village, Ali had a job to walk; a quick thought crossed his mind. He now knew why the old goat had problems after doing this job.
The weeks turned into months as Ali worked in the fields with Sasha. The small rice crop had been cut and threshed for the grain with a leather flap on the end of a pole. The grain was then winnowed in the wind by tossing it into the air and having the chaff blown off by the wind. The rice grain was stored in large plastic drums with lids screwed tightly to the top. Missy would muzzle through the chaff to seek out any missed grains.
Ali felt as if he could stay in the mountains and become a part of village life. The problems of money and the crime in the city felt so far away. He was enjoying the simple way of life without the hassles of the dirty city. He would walk to the village three times a week and meet with Merci, then travel to the love nest and slowly make love. The long trip home always took a lot of effort.
In the mountains behind the village, a band of rebels preyed upon some of the larger towns for food. These people were a bad lot, as they had no regard for any but themselves. These people would arrive in a town and shoot at all people they could see and then loot, rape, and steal. The people in the village were not worried about these rebels as the area was so poor. They thought the rebels would not bother them for their meagre produce.
Nine months had passed since Ali had escaped the city; he was very content with his lot now. Like a mother to him, he had a new caring auntie and a nice, loving pretty girl called Merci.
Ali was travelling to town with a yoke over his shoulders and two heavy baskets of produce for sale. He had just walked into the market and was thinking about the meeting with Merci when the gunfire broke out. The rebels were attacking the marketplace. People were running and screaming; some fell when hit by bullets trying to escape, some people lay writhing on the ground. Ali dropped the yoke and baskets, then ran through the village ducking and weaving as he went. He ran back toward Sasha’s house.
In the distance, Ali could see a haze of smoke hovering near Sasha’s house. He ran as fast as he could. He felt relief when he noticed the smoke was coming from the next house along the road
He entered the house to find his beloved auntie Sasha lying in a pool of blood. She had been stabbed in the chest. Her clothes had been torn off her. She had been raped before being stabbed. Ali cradled the dying Sasha in his arms and told her quietly that he loved her as she slipped away. He felt a terrible sense of loss and rage.
Out from the rear of the house, Ali heard a noise. He peeped around the rear doorway and saw a young lad about his age butchering Sasha’s goat Missy. A red wave of rage engulfed Ali; he crept to the cooking area and found a long pointy knife. He sneaked back to the door, then launched himself at Sasha’s murderer, stabbing the long knife into his back.
The lad swung the knife he had been using to butcher the goat and slashed Ali’s cheek from jaw to ear; a large flap of skin was cut and hung loose, bleeding profusely. The rebel started to tremor and kick as the blood flowed from his heart. Ali felt no remorse and felt like stabbing the rebel over and over for the murder of his dear Sasha and Missy. Ali waited for the lad to die; he pulled the now dead rebel away from the house, so he was not near Sasha as she lay dead. The sight of Missy gutted and cut up was also a very distressing sight for Ali to comprehend.
Ali returned to the house; he stooped and kissed Sasha on the cheek. Blood pulsed from the huge cut on his face and landed on Sasha’s calm lifeless face. Ali found a rag and wiped it off; he then bound the cheek wound up with the same rag, tied the ends to keep the wound tight, walked from the room onto the road, and then headed back to the village. He realised that if he did not get the help, he would probably bleed to death.Tears from his crying stung the wound on his face as he staggered along. The blood from the large wound seeped out from the bandage and covered his clothes. He had to stop a few times to get his breath. Finally, he headed into the market, where people were talking and working on the wounded.
There were makeshift pallets on the ground with the dead and wounded on them. A man came to Ali and led him to some women who were cleaning some of the wounded people. A lady took the bandage off Ali’s face the called to a man to look at Ali’s cut face, after a few seconds the man went to a table and got a needle and some cotton, he proceeded to sew the gash on Ali’s face back together.
The sewing was very painful; Ali realised that this would have to be done. Finally, the pain lessened as the man packed up to attend to another. Ali’s face was throbbing. He had a splitting headache.One of the women came to him and gave him a glass of bitter liquid to drink; Ali quickly dozed off.
The sun was high in the sky; it was about noon when Ali finally woke. His face was still throbbing, and he felt dizzy. He forced himself to rise, and then he staggered to the door of the strange house. A woman stepped in his way and tried to stop him. Ali gestured toward Sasha’s house then made a gesture of shooting a pistol at his head. The woman understood and stepped aside to let Ali pass.
The trip to Sasha’s house took a lot of effort; he had to rest on a few occasions. Finally, he arrived. Sasha was lying on the blanket, her dead brown eyes staring at the roof, flies buzzed around her body. Ali went to the cupboard and took a clean cloth and gently laid this over Sasha’s face to keep the flies off her.
He then found a pick and spade and then set about digging a grave for his lovely caring aunt. Tears coursed out of his eyes then ran over the throbbing cheek; this just made his grief worse.
Ali had dug a grave for Sasha about a meter deep; he walked into the fields and picked a large armful of wildflowers. These flowers had usually been a chore to keep hoed out of the crops. Ali entered the house and got a clean blanket off Sasha’s bed, then laid her with great gentleness upon it. He placed the flowers on each side of her peaceful face, then folded the sides over her, finally covering her gentle brown eyes; he carefully picked her body up and carried her to the graveside.
As he stood in the hole and gently lifted Sasha’s body into the grave, He let out a moan and started to shudder with grief. He arranged her body then climbed over her out of the grave. Filling the hole was a very hard thing to do; finally, Ali got one of Sasha’s favourite pots and placed this at the head of her grave. He packed his few clothes and the money which was hidden in the house, then stepped down from the floor to the ground.
Before he left for the village, he looked across the field to where the terrorist’s body was and noticed the big birds of prey sitting on him and pecking at his body. This gave Ali some solace in that they had their way with the murderer.
The young girl’s parents asked Ali to stay with them. They were devastated. Merci had been raped and murdered by the terrorists. Ali cried at the other loss. The sobbing hurt the stitches in his face declined as he did not want to be in the village after the trauma of losing two of the nicest persons he had ever known. He had to answer in sign language by gestating with his hands as the swelling in his face made it impossible to speak. He agreed to stay while he waited the two days for the bus to arrive to take him back to the city. Ali could not bear to return to Sasha’s house and be there with her lying under the ground behind the house.
The trip down the mountain was a lot scarier than the up trip. The driver would shift the gears to neutral and let the bus coast down the steep slopes to save petrol. The brakes would squeal in protest as they neared a bridge or met another vehicle. The tobacco smell was still the same from the people smoking smelly homemade cigarettes. Dust from the dry dirt road filled the cabin of the bus.
When Ali had finally arrived and walked through the market on the way to his home from the bus, he had seen some of his friends in the market-place Youssef walked straight past Ali without recognising him; Youssef had not recognised him because of the grossly swollen face. Ali had not tried to communicate with him or any other of these lads as he thought it would be an advantage to remain anonymous.
After knocking on the door of his house three times, Zeena opened the door; she looked at Ali and asked him what he wanted. He suddenly realised that she did not recognise him. Ali still could not speak, so he undid the sack of clothes and showed her the shirt she had recently bought. Zeena then realised who he was. She let him inside, then hugged him and cried.
After entering the house, Ali went and got a pencil and paper and wrote down what had happened to Sasha. Then wrote of how he had slain her murderer. Sasha was Zeena’s only relative. She sobbed softly for some time.
Zeena told Ali that the police had been around two more times looking for him. There had been no mention of a key being found, so that had been lost during Ali’s running home with the Kit-bag. This news worried Ali; he was almost unrecognisable due to the large scar. He did not want one of his acquaintances to recognise him and to start talking to the wrong person to have the police on his trail again.
Late in the night, Ali set out in the dim moonlight to the ware-house and retrieved the Kit- Bag full of the precious metal and money. He was careful not to be seen. He stashed the bag in his room.
In the morning, Ali showed Zeena the contents of the kit-bag. The money was sorted into piles of the same currency, with a rough count being done on each pile
After thinking and talking to Ali for a while, Zeena told him of an Indian metal trader she knew in a far part of town, who may buy some of the silver and gold. Zeena told Ali to keep his eye on this man as he was very violent.
He left to go to the market to purchase some food; when he was there at the market, Ali purchased some better clothes and some new sandals. His old friends still did not recognise him; Ali left it so. He was going to take a third of the silver and gold to see if he could sell it.
After walking and searching for a few minutes, Ali found a lad on an auto-rickshaw and, with difficulty talking because of his swollen face, asked him to take him to the Indian jewellery store. The lad could not understand the mumbled conversation. He gave directions Zeena had written on a piece of paper to the auto-rickshaw driver to the premises of the dealer.
The Jewellery shop was large and painted bright red. It had heavy steel bars on the windows and doors. Ali walked in and noticed a lot of customers and five working girls. With difficulty, Ali asked one of the girls if he could speak to Mr. Kahn about selling some gold. The girl walked off and came back with a greasy dark-skinned ugly man with a pockmarked face, he had a turban on his head, and there was a thick gold chain around his neck and a very large diamond ring on his finger.
The man ushered Ali to his office. “Sit down, boy, what have you in the bag for me” Ali mumbled slowly with effort, from the swelling of his face. “My father was killed in a robbery of his shop. The robbers attacked me; they cut my face. I was able to save some of the gold and silver and run away. I have the gold and silver my father was using in the shop to make jewellery. We are now very poor and need the money for food” he tipped the gold and silver bars out on the desktop.
A gleam of greed crossed the Indian’s eyes as he perused the pile of precious metal. The Indian weighed the metal and offered a price. “My mother told me this was worth a lot more than you are offering. The greasy man leaned back. “How do I not know if this is stolen.” He smirked, showing a large gold tooth. “This is my price. Take it or leave. Ali reached for the gold and silver pile and picked it up; he then moved to get up. The greasy man said. ”Wait, I may have made a mistake with the weights” he re-weighed the metal and offered nearly twice the amount. Ali agreed to the sale. The man pushed his chair back on its rollers, and then got a key ring full of keys out of his pocket. He found a well-worn small key and unlocked one of the desk drawers. He took some rolls of cash from the drawer of the desk. He then paid Ali, laying each note to be counted. Ali took the one thousand five hundred US dollars, then handed the silver and gold across.
On the way home, Ali shuddered at the thought of this gross, ugly man being with his mother. Her life must be hard to have to let a man like the ugly Indian have his way with her
During the Afternoon Zeena, and Ali totaled up the notes and then added the gold and silver price sold that day, then the worth of the gold and silver left. The figure was thirty-five thousand dollars; the jewellery would almost make the figure forty thousand. “Why don’t we leave this town and get a new life, “suggested Zeena, “We could go to Manilla; I may be able to get a proper job. I am tired of being used and beaten by the dirty, violent men.” Ali was extremely pleased with the idea of losing the shackles of this town, which now had the police problem looming over his head.
Three days later, they had disposed of their meagre possessions and were ready to go on the ferry to Manilla. Both Ali and Zeena had spent a small amount of money on buying some new clothes. Instead of the hessian bags, they both had suitcases and the kit-bag from the robbery. The money was in a money belt around both Ali and Zeena’s waist, and gold and silver bars were secreted into the lining of Zeena’s new large handbag. Zeena looked ten years younger at the prospects of leaving her old trade.
They carried their possession down to the bus depot in the market and booked seats to travel to the seaside town where a ferry would take them to Manilla.
Zeena told Ali that a huge load was being lifted from her shoulders by leaving town during the bus trip. She was pleased to change her status in life from one of the local whores to a normal person. The prostitute's lot was not a good one; most of the local men were keen to use her; none would recognise her when she was not at work. Most of the local wives were suspicious about who her clients may have been. Were their husbands going to visit her on the sly? : “I should have gone and seen some of the women in the street who have always avoided me and told them what bad lovers their husbands were.” She laughed at the thought.
The bus crested a ridge when heading for the coast. The wide vista of the ocean stretched before their eyes. The enormity of the blue expanse with the smaller dotted islands was far different in reality from the pictures in the magazines they had seen.
The bus crawled through the outskirts of the coastal town toward the sea. This town was of a much better standard than the smaller inland town in which they had spent all of their lives. Even in the poorer areas, the houses looked cleaner and had been painted. Multi-storied buildings thrust out of the downtown area near to the sea. There was an air of prosperity in this town.
The bus finally stopped at the ferry terminal. There were a lot of tourists walking around the streets. These were evident from the clothes, cameras, and other regalia they carried.
The ferry did not leave for two hours for Manilla. Ali and Zeena spent most of the time just watching the procession of different people walking around the wharf area. “Look at that man with the funny hat” Ali pointed to a skinny man in shorts and a bright Hawaiian shirt in the distance. Zeena noticed some of the women tourists; they were wearing bizarre clothes.
The Opal Dragon caught my attention with its intriguing premise—a story that weaves together crime, survival, and fortune-hunting in locations ranging from the bustling streets of Manila to the rugged Australian outback. There’s a lot of engaging material here, and I genuinely admire the ambition behind this book. Unfortunately, while the concept is compelling, the execution left me struggling to stay engaged.
In The Opal Dragon, a young street thief from Manila, Ali, flees his crime-ridden past and finds himself entangled in the high-stakes world of Australian opal mining. Ali’s navigates dangerous criminals, hidden treasures, and his own moral dilemmas while deciding whether the wealth is worth the risks. It's an interesting mix of coming-of-age story and crime fiction, exploring themes like redemption, survival, and revenge.
The settings, as I already mentioned, are richly varied, and I enjoyed the stark contrast between Ali’s life in the slums of Manila and the harsh, dusty expanse of the Australian mining towns. The backdrop for the story is unique, which I love. I appreciated the insight Calderwood provides into the struggles of life in the outback. And Ali’s transformation from a small-time criminal to someone trying to find his way in a dangerous world made for an excellent character arc. His relationships provide some of the book’s most heartfelt moments.
Here’s where things could use a bit of work, however. The writing is clunky and in need of a strong editor. Sentences meander without clear direction, and the dialogue often feels unnatural or expository. I also wanted to see more character depth beyond the protagonist. While Ali is a complex and interesting lead, many supporting characters feel flat or underwritten. The villains come across as generic rather than truly menacing or multi-dimensional.
he Opal Dragon is a far from being a lost cause. The story has an undeniable energy, and I can tell that the author has a strong imagination—a little polish could make this a genuinely standout novel.
As it stands, I’d recommend The Opal Dragon to readers who are patient with rough writing and enjoy underdog stories set against fascinating backdrops. But this one might be a bit of a slog for those who prefer more polished prose and tighter storytelling.