Du Rose Family Ties

by Bowes, K T

  “Are you still there?” the plaintive voice wailed and Hana bit back her exasperation.

  “Yes! I’ll climb down so watch out for debris!” She eyed the yawning drop before her. “And watch out for me, I might come down with it!” she whispered.

  It proved a dreadful descent, something an extreme rock climber might have considered employing ropes and crampons to tackle. Hana didn’t realise that until she became stuck somewhere in the middle, too far to climb back up and too high to drop safely to the bottom. She clung to an outcrop with her left hand, the skin on her fingers tearing and her fingernails ragged. Her right arm and both legs hugged an unwilling gum tree trunk as it jutted out from the ridge, blessedly branch free.

  “Are you coming?” The voice sounded nearer, hope fading in the weakness of the cry.

  “Yes!” Hana spat. “I’m just having a spot of bother and if you keep shouting that, I’m dropping a rock on your sorry head!”

  “What?”

  “Nothing! Yes, I’m coming!” Hana rested her forehead against the trunk and considered her options. There weren’t many. The buckles of Sacha’s bridle dug into her body and the leather girth had slipped and restricted her arms. Taking something to brace the man’s leg seemed like a good idea as she had wrapped the expensive tack around her body. Slowly it turned into the thing which would kill her.

  Hana fought the urge to scream and weep alternately. She prayed instead. “Oh dear God, please forgive my sins before I die. I haven’t got time to list them all but there’s lots. Please bless my children, the cute little ones and the big ones; Phoenix, Mac, Isobel and Beauden. Please remember he likes to be called Bodie and bless his sorry, stubborn ass, Lord, because he needs all the help he can get. Bless Logan. He’s so gorgeous, he’ll find another wife but please can you make it someone who does as she’s told more than me...”

  “You’re praying!” The voice became a wail. “You think I’m gonna die!” It sounded younger than Hana previously thought and she tried to steel herself to make the rest of the journey.

  “Shut up, I’m just resting! My arms ache!” Hana shouted back, hearing the wobble in her voice. Her ridiculous plan to slide down the trunk of the gum tree seemed really stupid as she clung to it like a panda bear. Hana let go of the rock face and used her limbs to hold onto the tree. She made the mistake of looking at the ground below, swarming with supplejack vine and nasty, sharp boulders. The tree grew out of the bottom of the ridge at a jaunty angle, bending upwards in its efforts to reach the light. It groaned and moved every time Hana shifted her weight and her arms ached so badly, the muscles trembled, making holding on even harder.

  Straightening her legs, Hana gripped with her feet, grateful for the rubber soles of her cowboy boots. She bent her body and clasped the tree trunk between her knees and dared to move one hand lower in a jerky movement. She repeated the sequence, legs, hand, other hand, legs, hand, other hand. The ground came gradually nearer and Hana concentrated on the childhood skill of tree climbing, not used much in her forty-eighth year of life.

  A metre from the ground, Hana tried to stretch her body, finding the action impossible. Feeling ridiculous, she completed the sequence of movements until there was no more tree trunk and she could persuade her hands to let go. She stepped back and bent double, willing herself not to be sick as pain shot through every muscle in her body.

  “Can you help me, now?” The young male in front of Hana waved his arms to get her attention. She ran a hand across her top lip and saw blood on the backs of her fingers.

  “Yep,” she gasped. “Just having a nose bleed. I banged it on the way down.” She used her sleeve to mop at it, alarmed when even more came away.

  “You look worse than me,” the man said, his voice sounding tired. “Where are the others?”

  “I don’t know.” Hana sank to the ground next to him, trying to take stock of his injuries amidst their remote surroundings. Once there, she saw he was a teenager and couched her words with care. “They’ll be here. I sent Sacha back to raise the alarm and a stockman saw me ride off in search of the gun shots.” Hana released the buckle on the girth and unwound it from around her shoulders. Then she unclipped the bridle, wincing at the pain in her cut fingers.

  “You heard that?” The teenager sounded pleased with himself. “I ran out of cartridges about two hours ago.”

  “How many times did you fire?” Hana asked, shifting her atrophied muscles so she could observe him and check for injury.

  “I tried it last night but nobody came. So I waited and did it again this morning. I had enough to do six more shots and that was it.”

  Hana gaped. “You’ve been lying here since yesterday.” She put her hand up to her mouth as he nodded.

  The boy’s face looked deathly pale and his hands shook as he tried to rub his face. Dark circles marked the skin under his eyes and his lips were pale and cracked. Hana looked around, seeing nothing but the useless shot gun at his side. “Do you have water, food or supplies?” she asked.

  “It’s all back at the hut. I went looking for breakfast yesterday morning. A wild pig trotted past and I tracked it here, but it charged me and I fell backwards over that rock.” He pointed with a dirty, shaking finger. “The pig ran off, which was good because if it stayed to finish the job, I’d be messed up worse.”

  Hana looked around warily. “Wild pigs are a hazard, especially boars or sows with piglets.” Logan showed her how to spot their tracks and avoid them. Hana exhaled. “How far is the hut from here? I could fetch stuff.” She closed her eyes, trying to remember the view from above.

  “No! Don’t leave me. You’ll get lost and we’ll both be stuck here. I can’t take much more of this.” His face crumpled in misery. “Sorry,” he whispered and covered his eyes with filthy hands.

  “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll sort it out.” Hana cast around, scrabbling to her feet. She took her bearings as Logan taught her, searching for a landmark. “I’m Hana.” She forced a smile and the man withdrew his hands and looked up at her, his eyes bleary and unfocussed.

  “Sorry, I’m Caleb. Thanks for coming after me.” He shifted and let out a groan of pain.

  “Okay, sweetheart.” Hana knelt next to him, pushing his cap back on his head so she could take a proper look. “How old are you, Caleb?”

  “Nineteen,” he said, his tone reeking of suspicion.

  Hana nodded. “Okay. The stream’s just down there. I’ll find something to carry water in and a drink will make you feel better. Then I’ll use the bridle and do something with your leg.”

  She returned a few minutes later, dragging the branch from a nikau palm behind her, the dead fronds fanning out like the train from a wedding dress. “Please tell me you have a knife on you?”

  “Yeah.” Caleb moaned in agony as he delved into the pocket of his sweatpants and produced a knife.

  “Thanks.” Hana stared at the blade and her brow narrowed, recognising the familiar object in her palm. “Where did you find this?”

  “In the hut.” Caleb sighed and Hana depressed the button to extend the blade, concentrating on the immediate problem. She pared the branch away from the bulb where it once attached to the trunk.

  “I’ll collect water in this,” she muttered as she wielded the knife in her sore fingers. “Although I’ll probably drop it on the way back. There’s enough supplejack near the stream to weave a fence.”

  Caleb gave a watery smile. “Thanks for doing this. I didn’t realise you were on your own. I thought...it doesn’t matter.” He gulped.

  “I’m not on my own,” Hana reassured him, holding the rough container up for his approval. “My husband owns this property and knows it like the back of his hand. He’ll find me. Anyway, I sent Sacha back so she’ll bring him here.”

  “Ah, no!” Caleb laid his head back against the rock propping him up. “You’re a Du Rose.” He exhaled and the fight left him. “Just leave me here to die.”

  “Don’t be stupid!” Hana’s voice sounded
harsh. “I’m forty-eight years old and I just scaled a ridge to help you. My husband will be too busy yelling at me to do anything to you. He already thinks I’m a liability so you’ll be perfectly safe!”

  “I’m sorry,” Caleb said again, his voice dull.

  “I’ll get the water now. But it’s denser near the stream, so if you could keep talking, that would be helpful. I’ll follow the sound so I can find my way back.”

  “What shall I say?” Caleb asked, his voice sounding hoarse as he contemplated the long awaited drink.

  “Anything,” Hana called over her shoulder. “Tell me about yourself. But please keep talking. If I don’t answer, it’s because I’m fighting supplejack.”

  “Okay.”

  Hana crawled, walked and climbed over and around fallen trees, scratched by pockets of bush lawyer and tripped by vines. Twice she returned to the clear stream to refill the container after face planting and dropping it all. She drank straight from the stream using her cupped hands, realising how exhausted she felt, the cuts on her palm and fingers smarting against the cool water. Blood stained her jeans from calf to heel on one leg and a painful splinter bit at her left arm. Hana ignored her own injuries, heaving in a huge breath and starting again, carrying the fragile bowl with its life giving liquid back to Caleb. His voice continued in a steady monotony, guiding Hana towards him. “I left home when I was fifteen and I’ve lived all over since then. I met this chick in Auckland and lived with her parents for a while but she dumped me two months ago. They kicked me out so she could move her new dude in, so I lived on the streets. I hitched a lift to Rangiriri and walked west for a few weeks. I found this hut and stayed.”

  Hana crouched next to him and handed over the container with shaking hands, her energy spent. “How do you know my husband’s name?”

  Caleb sipped at the liquid through cracked lips. He winced and closed his eyes. “Geez, that’s nice. I’ve been dreaming of that water for hours.”

  “Sorry it’s only half full,” Hana apologised. “I fell over twice and dropped the lot.”

  “I know.” Caleb smiled and put the cup to his lips again. He drank deeply, draining the bulb. “I heard you swearing.”

  “How do you know Logan?” she asked again.

  Caleb wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t. I saw one of his workers six weeks ago. He was moving cattle around on the lower slopes. He told me this was Logan Du Rose’s land and if he caught me here, he’d make me disappear.”

  “Nice,” Hana said with a smile.

  “Will he?”

  “What?” Hana watched the empty bowl sink into Caleb’s lap and dreaded the trip back to get more.

  “Will he make me disappear?”

  Hana tutted. “Look love, everyone’s scared of him, but he’s a decent man. Unless you’ve been stealing stuff, you’ll be fine.”

  “Stealing? Like what?” Caleb’s eyes widened and he chewed his bottom lip.

  “Don’t know. You tell me?”

  “Like vegetables from the garden at the top of the mountain? Tomatoes and stuff and maybe a cucumber or two?”

  “Ah, so you’re the naughty possum who’s been helping himself?” Hana smiled at Caleb’s confusion. “My daughter’s convinced we’ve got a pet possum who eats fruit and veggies.”

  Caleb nodded. “I saw children, but I also saw a guy there once and figured it was Logan Du Rose. He looked real scary. He’ll mash me and make me disappear. I was just hungry and didn’t know that was his house but I didn’t take anything after that. I hunted down here.” His eyes lowered to his leg. “Not very successfully.”

  “There’s plenty of vegetables, Caleb. I don’t think he’ll begrudge you a cucumber and a few tomatoes. He’s never killed anyone over a vegetable, I promise.” Hana knitted her brow. “You didn’t steal the gun, did you?”

  Caleb shifted on the dusty ground and met her gaze. “Yes, but not from here.”

  Hana sighed. “Okay. Let me take a look at your leg and then I’ll fetch more water.”

  It was painful for Caleb as she sawed the elasticated bottom of his sweatpants apart with the penknife. “I’m sorry,” Hana said. “I need to cut your pants so I can get to your shin.”

  “It’s fine.” He sounded breathless.

  Hana tried not to comment as she exposed the break in Caleb’s shin. The bone protruded through the front of his leg, splitting the skin like a banana and sticking through for an inch, a jagged, white monstrosity. Hana swallowed bile and breathed quietly. Caleb tried to see the break and Hana’s rebuke sounded sharp. “No, stay still. You’ll make it worse.” Dried blood encrusted the wound and it looked dirty. The skin shone an unhealthy grey. Hana swallowed.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t want to mess around with this too much. I don’t think washing it will help and I can’t force the bone back into place. It looks like a green-stick fracture. I’ll make a splint to help stabilise it, then get more water and wait until help arrives.”

  Caleb nodded. “I don’t care anymore. Just don’t leave me; I’m sick of being on my own.”

  “Okay, love.” Hana foraged in the nearby undergrowth, finding more fallen nikau branches. She lined her equipment up next to Caleb’s prone body, separating as much of the leather from the bridle as she could and putting it in a pile. “Now my husband will kill me,” she said, smiling at Caleb. He looked white and his breaths rasped in his chest. “This is his favourite horse’s best tack.”

  Caleb’s vibrant blue eyes studied her movements without reply. Familiarity tweaked a memory in the back of Hana’s mind, but it was like trying to knit fog. She couldn’t lay hold of it and dismissed it for the moment. Standing, she stripped off her chequered shirt and examined it. The teenager raised a smirk. “Drinks and a show. Luxury.”

  Hana snorted, her flimsy singlet covering the remnants of her dignity. “I’m trying to work out how to use this as packing between your legs. I don’t think it’s substantial enough.”

  Caleb grinned. “Take it all off. At least I’ll die happy.”

  Hana put her hands on her hips. “Yep, that would certainly guarantee Logan kills you.” She glanced at the singlet but the thought of being discovered in her bra by a jealous husband and a rescue team, filled her with dismay. “This will have to do,” she said, rolling it into a long sausage and placing it between Caleb’s legs with care. “Okay, now get as comfortable as you can because you might be here a while.”

  The poor boy groaned. “I can’t. I can’t sit here any longer. Can’t you just help me out of here?”

  “No, sweetheart. It’s too rough going. Just do as you’re told. Would you rather lie down or sit up?”

  “Lie down,” Caleb said. “I can’t feel my ass.”

  Hana helped him lay flat, gulping against the pitiful cries he made as he moved his damaged leg. “Sorry, love,” Hana soothed. “I know it hurts.”

  “That feels better,” he rasped. “I couldn’t lie down before, in case I died. It felt too much like giving up.” His chest moved in rapid gasps of agony.

  Hana squeezed his shoulder and moved to his legs. “Right,” she said. “Tell me more about where you grew up. This will hurt and I’m more frightened than you. So talk for me, please. And don’t stop.” She placed the heel of Caleb’s boot into the cup at the end of the palm. It wasn’t a good fit, but supported it. He cried out as she moved his leg and Hana cringed. “I’m so sorry. I hate causing you more pain.” She sounded tearful and Caleb waved his arm.

  “It’s okay, it’s fine,” he panted. “Just do it.”

  “Talk then.” Hana used the knife to break the fronds and push them up the sides of Caleb’s injured leg as packing. “You’re not helping.”

  He closed his eyes, his brow knitted in pain. “I grew up in Taumarunui and I thought we were a happy family. My dad left when I was nine and everything went wrong. I loved my dad; he was awesome. He worked as a farm labourer and in the shearing season, won trophies for being the fastest guy in the King Co
untry. He won competitions and I hoped he’d teach me but he went to work one morning and didn’t come home. When I was ten, Mum moved her new boyfriend into our house and I resented him. He was my dad’s best friend but very handy with his fists. We had a massive show down at the end of last year and I told them both I’d leave and find my dad. Her new bloke laughed and said I’d be lucky because he was dead. When I tried to leave, he beat me up.” Caleb dragged his hand over his eyes and Hana stopped for a breather.

  “But he’s not dead, right?”

  Caleb nodded, groaning in agony as the movement rocked his leg. He took a moment to regain control and his face adopted a sickening greyness. “My mate’s dad was a cop and I climbed out my bedroom window and went to their house. They hauled the bastard in for beating me up and asked him some questions about Dad. His answers didn’t ring true. They asked a judge to extend the custody and began investigating. My dad’s body turned up at the farm they both worked at, buried at the bottom of a gully.” Caleb snorted in disgust. “Ironic I should end up in one too.”

  Hana tutted and stroked Caleb’s other thigh. “You won’t be staying here sweetheart, so don’t think that way.”

  His half smile looked doubtful and Hana continued her makeshift brace around the broken leg, preparing to strap it to the good one and avoiding the torn flesh and jagged bone. “How did your mother cope with everything?” she asked, glancing up.

  Caleb’s jaw tightened. “No idea. They convicted her boyfriend of murder. In court, my mother testified how the man I called ‘Dad’ wasn’t my father at all.” The teenager’s chin wobbled. “She had an affair one summer while he was shearing and got pregnant with me. I loved him so much and he wasn’t even my dad.”