Rocks clink and clatter beneath the kombi, as Rita stares out the window, eyes glistening wet. The sun sits high in the sky, as clear as polished blue glass. The air is dense, and the smell of body odor and dust are prominent. Rita clutches the crumpled letters into her a chest as she thinks, “why did they have to take me”. The letters were written from her mother a few years back, begging for Rita to return. Reading the letter for the first time sent Rita into hysterics; she was brought up believing that her parents didn’t want anything to do with. Her white foster parents always said it was a disgrace to belong to an aboriginal family and that it was essential to immerse herself into the “white” culture. Rita however, felt she didn’t belong in this world, always being frowned upon and never being truly accepted. But now, hope rages inside her like a burning fire, flickering and growing, an unstoppable force that cannot be tamed. This may be the chance to restore her true aboriginal identity. Suddenly her throat grows tight and panic courses through her as she thinks, “What if I have changed too much?”. Is Rita’s complexion to light or the white floral dress that clings to her feminine frame too European?
Into the distance an Eagle soars majestically through the air. Its freedom and gracefulness suddenly sends Rita back to time to when the police officers took her older brother Lenny and her to the Mission camps in Adelaide It was early winters morning on July 9th 1938, when the men in suits came to take them. The sun had awakened and the sound of the birds drifted down into the small kitchen. The house was peaceful, until the loud rapping on the front door sent Rita and Lenny into a frenzy of panic. Their Mother ignored the door at first, but as the rapping turned into yells she answered it. After they exchanged a few words, the woman was ordered to pick up Rita and hand her to Lenny. When she refused, the man slapped her...