"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath, my eyes narrowing as I observed Paul's hurried approach. His enthusiasm was palpable, even from a distance, and while normally infectious, today it felt like just another layer of complexity I wasn't in the mood to unravel.
"Beatrix!" he shouted, his arms flailing in an attempt to capture my attention. "Beatrix, wait up!"
A heavy sigh escaped me, a silent question to the universe: Is there ever any escape from Paul? It wasn't that I didn't appreciate his energy; it was just that sometimes, like now, I craved a moment of solitude, a brief respite from the whirlwind that was my life.
"What is it?" I inquired, mustering a semblance of patience as Paul caught up, his breaths quick and his eyes alight with urgency.
"Have you got Charlie yet?" he asked, the anticipation in his voice almost tangible.
"Not yet, sorry. I've been distracted dealing with Gladys," I admitted, the frustration of juggling too many crises at once evident in my tone.
"Oh, is she alright?" His concern was genuine, a reminder of the camaraderie we shared despite the chaos.
"Yeah. She's fine now," I reassured him, though the simplicity of the statement belied the complexity of the situation.
"That's good to hear," Paul said, mopping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
An idea sparked as we conversed, a realisation that Paul's presence could be advantageous. "When you do see Luke," I started, a plan forming, "can you please tell him that Gladys is safe and at home? She's going to pack a few things and stay with our parents for a while until—" I halted, mid-sentence. There was no need for Paul to be burdened with all the details.
His expression shifted to one of curiosity, but he nodded. "Of course," he agreed, a note of solidarity in his voice.
"Thank you," I responded, offering him a smile that carried a mix of gratitude and relief. In this tumultuous sea of events, it was a comfort to know that there were still points of connection, moments of support, even if they came wrapped in Paul's relentless enthusiasm.
"So, how far did you get?" Paul's inquiry snapped me back to the present, his curiosity never waning.
"Get?" I echoed, momentarily lost in the whirlpool of my thoughts.
"To Broken Hill?" he clarified, his energy undiminished, hands still animatedly moving in sync with his words.
"Oh," a light scoff escaped me as I felt a tinge of embarrassment for momentarily forgetting the crux of our conversation amidst my own tumultuous reflections. "I managed to get somewhere on the outskirts of Adelaide. I've left the hire car at my parents but registered the location near Adelaide first. I'm about to go to my parents to collect the car and then I'll continue from where I left off," I explained, laying out my plan with a newfound clarity.
"That's amazing that you can travel so easily like that," Paul remarked, his admiration evident in his tone, a glimmer of fascination in his eyes reflecting the marvel of the technological capabilities at our disposal.
A smile, broad and genuine, spread across my face. "I know," my acknowledgment came with a mix of satisfaction and a hint of awe at my own experiences.
As I considered the whirlwind of events, a sense of surrealism washed over me. The ability to traverse such distances and tackle a cascade of crises in mere hours was something out of science fiction, yet here I was, living it. The thought that, in just one day, I'd journeyed from Hobart to Adelaide, returned to assist Luke save a critical fence delivery, ventured into the wilds of Tasmania to extricate Gladys from an alarming police evasion, and was now on the cusp of reaching Broken Hill—all of it underscored the extraordinary nature of my new Guardianship.
This reflection brought a momentary pause, a breath in the relentless pace of my day. It wasn't just about the distances covered or the tasks undertaken; it was about the sheer capability and resilience demanded by this new world I was navigating. The pride I felt was tinged with a sobering recognition of the weight of responsibility that this power entailed.
"I'll let you get going then," Paul said, stepping back, his understanding of the urgency and importance of my mission clear in his parting words.
As I faced the Portal, ready to transition between worlds once more, a sudden thought halted my departure. "Make sure you keep the Portal clear. I need to drive the car in and out. Wouldn't want to hit anybody."
"Oh, absolutely," Paul's quick assurance was a balm to my rising anxiety about the logistical complexities awaiting me.
"Thanks."
"And Beatrix?" His voice caught me as I was about to step through the Portal.
"Yeah?" I paused, looking back at him.
"You should probably record several Portal locations on your journey. They may come in handy later," Paul suggested, offering a piece of solid advice.
I nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in his words. "Good idea. I'll do that."
"I recommend Burra and Yunta. If I ever need to stop on my way, they're the usual places," he added, providing specifics that grounded his advice in practical experience.
"Got it," I affirmed, storing the information mentally as I finally stepped into my bedroom, the transitional space before my next leap.
True to my word, I executed the manoeuvre with the hire car, guiding it through the Portal's shimmering threshold. The transition was seamless, a testament to the blend of technology and magic that had become my new normal. I emerged precisely where I had left off, on the quiet outskirts of Gawler.
Settling back into the driver's seat, I felt the car's engine hum to life under my command, a steady companion in the solitude of my mission. As I merged onto the Barrier Highway, the vast expanse of the road stretched before me, a tangible symbol of the journey ahead.
Pressing down on the accelerator, a surge of excitement coursed through me. This wasn't just another drive; it was an adventure into the unchartered outback. "Broken Hill, here I come!" I declared, the words echoing in the confines of the car, a mix of determination and excitement fuelling my voice.
