by Lucy Walker
Time passed.
This feeding of the patient had taken a long time because the barely conscious Jard could swallow only the tiniest morsel. In between several such morsels Mister Falldown dripped the water down his throat. The old bushman watched carefully to see that after each dose of meat crumbs or water Jard moved the muscles of his throat. Now and again Mister Falldown massaged the muscles himself with his broad, flat, dark hands.
‘He’ll do okay, this feller,’ he said. In all this time he hadn’t uttered more than half a dozen sentences.
Mardie had given herself up to being a patient now. Deep in her being ‒ without knowing or having enough mental strength to think it all out ‒ she knew her task was over. It didn’t matter any more that the two men who had come just before dawn had gone off leaving them helpless. She would think about them later. Perhaps another day.
Funny, but it was an effort even to think at all. It didn’t matter any more. The old man out of the bush ‒ with the forgotten memory ‒ had come. He was God in another guise. All would be well. Now she could lie down and have another little sleep. This, because her head was dizzy again.
The plane came about mid-morning. The smoke signals had sent their message. It had had to land some long distance away where the strip of bushland ended and the stony desert could provide a landing ground. Not one, but two Land-Rovers came later. One she could recognize as the police vehicle by its centre roof radio mast and the blue-red flashing light.
Mardie couldn’t focus her attention any more. There seemed a lot of people about. Mostly there was Joanna, so the other Land-Rover must have come from the Dig-in. The plane was from the Royal Flying Doctor Service. She heard someone saying that.
Joanna seemed to stop being a geologist and had become a nurse. The way she stripped off Jard and helped the pilot from the Flying Doctor Service! Her directness and efficiency were marvels to watch. For one terrifying crash and one long night he had belonged to Mardie. Now he was Joanna’s. Mardie wondered why she minded. When Joanna had attended to Jard she came over to Mardie and went to work with fingers like steel rods, feeling here, poking there. Oh yes. She was very efficient. All the time as she worked the pilot was two-waying the information Joanna gave him back to the doctor at Base.
Mardie felt sad. Oh, to be Joanna! Joanna would have managed through the night so much better. She wouldn’t have fallen asleep. She would not have kept getting dizzy. Mardie was sure of this. Joanna was the sort of person born to survive ‒ the right way. That would be to keep her head all the time. There probably wouldn’t even have been a crash if Joanna had been there instead of Mardie, the girl from a town. She would have been on the look-out, and have seen the eagles in time.
‘There you are,’ Joanna said, kindly now. She had finished pushing, pulling and poking Mardie. ‘You’ll be all right. Nothing broken. No internal swelling so no haemorrhage, I think. Dr Fells at Base seems to be satisfied. He’ll keep in touch.’ She finished pulling Mardie’s clothes on again, while Mardie herself wondered why she didn’t tell Joanna about the two early morning bushmen who had run off and deserted them.
She doesn’t have to know everything that happened, she thought. I couldn’t ever tell her about lying all night without clothes, to keep Jard warm. I couldn’t ever tell anyone that. They wouldn’t understand …
Mister Falldown was standing looking down at her. She had a feeling Mister Falldown knew. About the no-clothes too. She knew that he knew ‒ she had done the right thing. His dark eyes said so.
‘Mister Falldown …?’
‘You be okay, Missy. You did good thing all right,’ was all he said.
‘Thank you, Mister Falldown.’ She said this from her heart.
Chapter Eight
‘Davy!’ Joanna called. ‘I think you’d better take Mardie in the Land-Rover. Dr Fells at Base says he’ll drop down at The Breakaway and give her a detailed run-over after he’s seen Jard at the Regional Hospital. Will you take Mister and those two animals along with you?’
‘Sure, sure!’
That was a sound Mardie knew. She turned her head. The several men who had come in the Land-Rovers had been standing politely away while Joanna had been giving Mardie the run-over. One or two of them had been looking over the damaged ’copter. Now someone was standing looking down at her. He had a gorgeous smile. She knew he had to be David Ashton from the Dig-in.
‘Hallo! How’s the Voice?’ he asked, and his smile grew better still.
‘David! I knew it was you ‒ the way you said “Sure, sure”.’
‘None other. We meet in strange places, don’t we?’
He bent down and dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘Good girl, Mardie,’ he said. ‘You did a wonderful job. How in the name of fortune did you get Jard out of that ’copter?’
‘I don’t know. I pushed and pulled. And he just came ‒ sort of.’
‘Like a lamb to the fold?’ David’s grin was mischievous.
He knows ‒ he guesses, she thought. But how could he?
They were lifting Jard on a litter. Joanna was walking beside it, holding his hand.
‘I’m coming with you,’ Joanna said to the pilot, meaning it.
‘I’d take her,’ David advised him. ‘She’ll be the best right hand you’ve ever had. She always has her own way anyhow.’
‘So I’ve heard,’ the pilot grinned. ‘Not always my luck to have a good-looking girl to hold a patient’s hand.’ He turned to Mardie.
‘Dr Fells will be seeing you, Mardie,’ he said. ‘Keep moving when you get home. Restricted activity only, but it will keep those muscles from stiffening.’
He turned away, bringing up the rear of the little procession, now disappearing through the bush into and beyond the tree belt.
Mardie watched them go.
She was suddenly aware of David’s eyes on her.
‘Sad to see them go now it’s all over?’ he asked. ‘Not to worry, Mardie. He’s in good hands. Joanna’s the best ever at rendering First Aid. The pilot may need that. They’ll have to keep the plane at five hundred feet. Not above. It’s not pressurized and they can’t risk a patient’s reactions at height.’
‘You think …?’
‘Stunned at first and maybe slight concussion. How slight will be checked at the hospital. Meantime they have to fly the plane low ‒ just as a precaution.’
‘Could that be dangerous? How high are the mesas?’
‘He’ll fly round them.’
‘But there may be more eagles ‒’
‘Eagles don’t usually rush aeroplanes. It’s mostly the ’copters that attract them. Our ’copters don’t fly high. They’re lower and slower. The blades whirling horizontally fascinate them.’
‘Like cars to kangaroos?’
‘Exactly. The cars don’t so often hit the kangaroos. The ’roos hit the cars. Mostly because they’re attracted to the moving objects. And to moving lights at night.’
Mardie nodded.
Her eyes were following the progress of the rescue party, now disappearing through the trees.
David was still watching her. She shook her head, brushing some thought away that no longer had any relevance to this little group left behind.
‘Can we take Mister Falldown with us, David?’
‘Mister has gone, Mardie,’ David said gently.
‘Gone? Oh no! But how?’
‘Silently. Like the shades of night. You don’t hear him come and you don’t hear him go. That’s Mister Falldown’s way. Incidentally he’s taken that flaming dingo pup with him.’
‘Don’t call the pup a flaming anything, David,’ Mardie said, bristling. ‘He was here … with us. And Digger too. And Jard. He …’
‘Belonged to the experience? That killer pup belongs to Mister, Mardie, and Mister’s taken his possession and gone. That’s all there is to it. We’ll take Digger with us.’
‘But he must have walked miles and miles and miles to get here.’
‘And he’ll walk m
iles and miles back. Then forget to remember it happened. Let it be, sweetheart. It’s his way of life and his way of doing things.’
‘Not like the two men who came when it was barely daylight. They recognized Jard. Then they just went for their lives. They didn’t want to help us.’
‘Two men? Out in this stretch of country?’ David asked sharply. ‘What were they like? No, wait! We’ll get you aboard the Land-Rover first. Then tell me about them later. It’s important, Mardie, so be a lamb and spend the trip home remembering every detail. Jard’s not the only person who’ll want to know about that pair. No one deserts a stranded person in the outback. Unless, of course, they’re on the run themselves!’
‘Well, before I forget one thing. They had guns. Or rifles. I don’t know the difference. Do dingo-shooters use rifles or guns?’
‘If they were dingo-shooters, they’d have carried rifles, Mardie, but they wouldn’t have cleared out. Not on your life. Don’t ask any more questions, like a good girl. Just keep your efforts for remembering. Right?’
Mardie nodded. It was easier to be docile than not. Her brain had stopped whizzing at irregular intervals but it still had that vaguely depleted feeling.
It would be wonderful to go to bed for a week, she thought. Except that she didn’t want to be a dead weight on the Richies.
No. She would have to get on with that will power business again. It had worked ‒ getting Jard out of that ’copter. That is, if will power was the same thing as God.
Mardie was so wrapped up in these speculative thoughts that she hardly noticed how painful it was to walk, even with help, to the Land-Rover. She did have one reflective moment when she thought that perhaps David, God and will power all had something in common. David’s strong arm took most of her weight and his hands were so gentle she wanted to thank him, but didn’t quite know how. Her voice had gone all unsteady again.
But she was not going to cry!
Oh well! Tomorrow would be another day. Besides she had a little ordering around to do herself then. Those workmen hadn’t made a true line along the cement foundations for her motel units.
Willy nilly, tomorrow she had things to do ‒ about them.
The Land-Rover was not exactly the most comfortable vehicle as it thundered its way across trackless bush back towards the gravel plain. Mardie did not complain. She was so thankful to be saved. Besides the Rover could go anywhere ‒ even uncomfortably ‒ because it had a four-wheel drive. A comforting thought that.
‘Any good at guessing games, Mardie?’ David was wearing his best-friend two-way radio voice.
‘If they’re easy ones,’ she admitted meekly.
‘Okay. What’s the answer to this one? We’re using front-wheel drive at the moment. What shall we do if it breaks down?’
‘Get out and mend it. That is, if you know how ‒’
‘No, love. Just change over to rear-wheel drive.’ His laugh was music to Mardie’s ears.
The guessing game went on, while David and the two men kept her amused. Some of their outback yarns would have made her grandmother’s hair stand on end, but Mardie didn’t care. They were bright company for a girl still wracked with one pain here and two pains there every time the Rover lurched over a bad surface. But each time it did that David made a new joke, or asked a funny riddle.
But it was Joanna who was to hold Jard’s hand on the litter! And on the plane too. It was Joanna who was the saviour now!
As they neared The Breakaway some hours later, Mardie had almost forgotten that pain mattered so very much. It was something one came to live with. It wasn’t too bad ‒ once one was thinking of something else.
They were kind, these three men, and they laughed a lot. Nearly all the time, in fact.
That wonderful music of the world ‒ laughter! This time it was the healer too.
Mardie had always thought it was a wonderful thing to see stars on a moonless night, or a sunset that blazed across a windless sky on a heat-wave sundown. Now she decided the most wonderful thing of all was the sound of laughter. The panacea ‒ even for envy!
It meant you were one of a group. You belonged. She would never feel really alone again. She was sure of that. She had a ‘re-born’ feeling since she’d come to the outback. Never again to be the ‘third one out’ as at home.
When the Land-Rover pulled in at The Breakaway there were Mr and Mrs Richie running out to meet them!
‘Oh, Mardie darling, are you all light?’ Mrs Richie had tears in her eyes.
‘Mardie girl! You’re safe? Nothing broken?’ Mr Richie was in a proper flap. The way he advanced on her made Mardie temporarily scared that she might have, once again, to go through that prodding, pushing, bending and stretching she had already suffered at Joanna’s not-so-gentle hands. But Mr Richie had only come to take her cheeks between his hands and kiss her.
‘She’s as right as rain!’ David answered for her. He slammed tight the brakes and opened the drive door. ‘The pertest girl east of the black stump, Mrs R. Full of cheek. How’s the kettle? On the boil?’
‘Yes, and there’s a bottle of champagne out on the bar counter waiting for you men.’
Everyone was giving a hand to help Mardie dismount from the Land-Rover.
‘In a bucket of ice?’ David demanded over Mardie’s head.
‘Yes, and another ice bucket in the freezer waiting for a hammer to crack it up.’
David threw a look over his shoulder.
‘Pete? For Pete’s sake, get a hammer out of the tool box. We’re about to need it. Mardie girl, keep still. I’m going to carry you over the doorstep with or without your consent. I mightn’t be the bridegroom yet but I’m about to get me some practice.’
So they laughed. All of them. Mrs Richie laughed through her near-tears, as in a triumphal procession they carried Mardie into The Breakaway’s best room, then on to the sofa.
It might have been a grand party as if to celebrate her return from a moon walk.
Yet there was something more behind their quips and their deliberate laughter.
Thought of Jard? Yes, that was there, only part hidden.
He was in good hands and everyone knew that. Yet there was something else. Over their glasses came a quick exchange of glances between David and Pete, then sort of casually Pete disappeared. He came back ten minutes later and exchanged nods with David.
More than once Mrs Richie whispered in the corner to her husband. Something, Mardie thought, is going on.
‘I’m lying here on this sofa and I don’t know whether it means I’m Queen of the May, or a serious patient,’ she said. ‘Would you all please be kind enough to tell me what’s the mystery in the air?’
‘Mystery?’ They looked aghast as if she had suggested something outrageous.
‘Well, I’ll ask the questions that puzzle me,’ she said. ‘Joanna’s gone with the Flying Doctor’s pilot. How and when will she get back? We all want to know how well or bad Jard might be. Question two. What has happened to Mr Falldown? And how did he know where we were and that something serious had happened? Question three is only about the ute, and how will we get it back from Mansell’s paddock?’
‘Question three is the easiest answered,’ David said with a grin. ‘If the Vet could land his plane at Mansell’s corner paddock, so could the Flying Doctor. He will drop Joanna off there and she’ll bring your ute back. Authority for any information? The Richies and the “session” over the transceiver.’
‘Then why the whispering?’
‘Well, Mardie darling,’ Mr Richie said, ‘like the good girl you are, you locked the ute and took the car keys with you.’
‘And Pete went outside,’ David went on, ‘to get on to our two-way code to tell Jo how to pick the lock. Couldn’t put that over the public Session, you know. All the baddies listening in would be taking a lesson on how to pick car locks.’
They all laughed and again Mr Richie filled the men’s glasses. Mrs Richie brought Mardie a glass of milk.
‘
Have to play safe with that, dear,’ she said. ‘If milk can’t harm a kitten, it won’t hurt you.’
‘How clever can Joanna be!’ Mardie said, shaking her head thoughtfully. ‘I wish I had her brains. A geologist, a cook, a beauty expert, a nurse and now a lock-picker.’
‘I’d rather take her good looks ‒ as one of my portable possessions of course,’ the youngest of the trio, Alan Barnes, said.
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Pete raised his glass in a meaningful way.
Mardie wished she had all Joanna’s brains and her everything else. But then who wouldn’t? Since Joanna used them all with the maximum efficiency and maximum effect ‒ then good luck to her! Obviously the right person was rightly gifted and that’s the way it was.
Not to be envious though! She, Mardie, had had her own gift from the gods. She had held this injured man in her arms all night, body to body, to keep him warm and perhaps ‒ who knows? ‒ saved him from death from shock and because of the cold. To have done that one thing once meant she had done something that mattered.
In the morning, just for one moment he had opened his eyes. She had seen that the pupils of his eyes were evenly matched, and she was sure ‒ from schoolgirl days when she had been hit on the head with a hockey ball ‒ that the even matching of the eye pupils had been most important evidence. It had meant that she had suffered from nothing more than a nasty crack. No severe haemorrhage. No brain damage. And so, thank God, with Jard.
They were all standing looking at her.
‘You’re too quiet, Mardie. What’s worrying you?’ David asked.
‘Why, nothing. I was thinking of something that happened to me once when I was at school. Do you think Jard was knocked unconscious and that there is nothing more serious than that?’
‘Fairly certain of it. There’s bound to be some after effects of shock, of course. That’s usually one nasty aspect of a crash. They’ll treat him for that as a top priority at the hospital. The doctor will fix all that. It’s his business. But what does that have to do with you being at school? You can read and write, can’t you, sweetheart?’