The Days of In Between

by Peter Valentine Fenton

  Tara’s dad closed his eyes in defeat for a moment and quietly said ‘okay’ and with that, they headed out.

  Toby watched as Tara’s dad and brother were led by the sergeant into the windowless cabin at the back of the police wagon. He couldn’t help but wonder, if Tara wasn’t on the mountain, then where was she? Was it possible that Sergeant Ayres believed that her dad had something to do with her disappearance? He looked across at Boo, who was watching all this intently too.

  Once they were locked in, the policeman was behind the wheel, the blue light came alive and they were on their way. Fast.

  They drove away from the wharf and then took a right turn away from the shops and back towards the caravan park.

  ‘So you really think she’s up there?’ Boo asked Toby, easily staying right on the trail of the police car.

  He was about to say that he thought so but just before the words came out, he changed them to ‘I hope so.’

  They took a left hand turn off the main road and before too long the road changed from tar to dirt. The red brake lights of the police car shone bright, illuminating red-tinged balloons of dust. They then turned onto a thin track with many potholes and deep crevices that slowed them down.

  Boo took advantage of the slower speed. ‘You okay?’ she asked Toby.

  ‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ he said.

  It was a funny thing, but suddenly he no longer felt a difference between himself and the adults around him. He seemed to understand what was going on and why-without the usual gulf that made him feel that he was a lesser person because of his age.

  The cars slowed even more and nearly stopped at times as the track got rougher and rougher.

  They drove through a gate, the steel bars of a cattle grid built into the road underneath them chorusing ‘belonk belonk’ as the car passed over. A flock of cockatoos burst from a tree in front of them, screeching as they flew, bleached white against the blue sky and disappearing against the white of the clouds.

  Boo cleared her throat. ‘You know, I really hope this all turns out and we find Tara. I don’t mind telling you I’m a little bit worried. I know she knows this place, so I’m not sure she’s just lost. But it’s deceptively rough up there. She could be injured.’

  ‘Oh, I hope not!’ Toby said. ‘That’s where I got this,’ he said, looking down at his freshly bandaged leg.

  ‘Hmmmn,’ Boo said. ‘I hope not too. Maybe she just needed some time out. We all do sometimes.’ She paused. ‘But can I say one thing, between you and me?’

  Toby looked at her and understood she was talking from her heart.

  ‘Yeah?’ he said.

  She glanced at him, her expression serious. ‘If that is what’s she’s done, run away, I want you to know it’s never the answer. Never. It causes so much unnecessary pain.’

  Toby nodded his understanding.

  ‘And one more thing,’ Boo went on. ‘I told you that stuff about Tim Jones and his family for a reason. He’s not some angry hoon out to make your life difficult, far from it. He’s actually got a story behind him. If you can see past all his bluster you can understand that he’s no tough guy at all, but he’s crippled by the pain of losing someone he loved.’

  Toby considered this. He couldn’t help but think of his own dad as well. ‘I think I understand that. But that’s the sort of thing we kids aren’t supposed to know. We are told when we do the wrong things, all the time. But the rest? We just see the things that are thrown our way by the adults around us ... we are left to try to work out what’s going on instead of being told.’

  He found himself talking of things he had only thought about before. He felt his thoughts gather momentum, and his words came out clearly and easily.

  ‘It’s like a lot of problems come from adults deciding what children might want to know, instead of thinking about what we might need to know. I sometimes think that they have such a clear line in their heads between children and adults that they think we don’t have the brainpower to deal with things and we need to be protected from whatever the truth is. I hate it. It’s so dumb and ends up making everything so murky.’ Toby shook his head, bewildered. ‘And it makes it just so impossible to make the right decisions.’

  ‘Yeah, I get that,’ Boo responded thoughtfully. ‘Adults seem to forget what it’s like to be young. In my experience, kids notice a lot more than they’re given credit for. I see that a lot, working at the hospital. And I guess working that stuff out on your own is all part of growing up.’ Her eyes looked directly into his and then she said, in a very gentle way, ‘You’re a special person, Toby.’

  ‘Thanks, um, Mrs ...’

  ‘It’s fine for you to call me Boo, Toby.’

  ‘Thanks, Boo,’ said Toby as it dawned on him that he had never before called an adult by their first name.

  They shared a smile as the car lurched into a gully in the road before returning to a more even level.

  ‘It’s a rocky road we’re on, that’s for sure!’ Boo commented wryly, and then looked back at Toby. ‘Oh! I just worked out your full name must be Toby ... Rhone?’

  Toby shrugged. ‘Mum loves chocolate.’

  ‘Ahhh, alright!’ she said laughingly.

  Suddenly, ahead, the police car stopped, its red brake lights now glaring bright through the dust and low light of the overhanging bush tree canopy.

  Sergeant Ayre’s door opened, and out he jumped, heading towards Boo’s car, his face peering in the driver’s side window, motioning for her to wind it down.

  ‘Looks like this is as far as we can go by car. I don’t think we are too far away but we will have to walk from here.’ He handed over his map so they could both see it. ‘The plan, Boo, is to make our way from here to the northern side of the mountain, then separate into two parties.’ His index finger circled above the map. ‘We can make our way around to this mid section in a figure eight as best we can. If Tara is here, my best guess is she is in this region. The two Jones boys will be with me and if you and Toby can head around the other side when I give the word. Sound okay to you?’

  ‘Sounds good, Sarge.’

  He walked back and opened the passenger door for Mrs Thompson and then unlocked the door at the back of the wagon and helped Josh and Tara’s dad out.

  Boo grabbed her first aid kit from the back of her car.

  ‘Would you like me to carry that?’ Toby asked.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve got it,’ she said, and pulled some straps out from it and hoisted it onto her back like a school bag. ‘It’s actually pretty light, but thanks, it’s the thought that counts.’ You can take one of these though,’ she said, handing him a water flask.

  Together they walked up to where the sergeant was on the two-way radio. As they approached him, Toby caught his words ‘on foot, in search of the missing girl’. Their matter-of-factness made him queasy. The sergeant, noticing that Mrs Thompson was wearing quite nice shoes, most unsuitable for a steep hill climb, said to her, ‘Mrs Thompson, would you mind staying here and keeping an ear out for the radio and relaying any messages to me?’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant, of course. I spent several of my younger years in the navy. I know my way around a two-way radio.’

  The policeman gave a small nod. ‘Good stuff! Thank you. And one for you as well, Boo.’ He handed her a black, rectangular walkie-talkie. ‘Do you know how to work it?’

  ‘I do,’ Toby piped up.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Boo asked.

  ‘Oh yes, my dad’s shown me,’ Toby explained.

  ‘Alright!’ the sergeant smiled.

  The trees did their best to keep out the light, yet fine beams managed to penetrate and gently touch the ground. The sergeant pointed up ahead. ‘That seems to be the track that will get us to the top.’

  Several pairs of eyes followed his finger, in silent response. They were all drawn into their own thoughts of what lay before them.

  It was now so warm, the air was thick and sweet, and the narrow track was overgrown and diffi
cult to see. Occasionally the policeman had to push with great force a branch or bush that was in their way. A peculiar bird trotted alongside them, seemingly unaware of their presence as it went on its way foraging with its small black finger-curled beak. It was an elegant shape, with feathers of brown and black, and Toby traced his eyes along its back to an extraordinary long-plumed tail that included what he thought looked like a snakeskin.

  ‘Lyrebird,’ said the policeman, answering a question no one had asked as the bird made the piercing sound of a whistling whip and then, incredibly, perfectly mimicked the unmistakable laugh of a kookaburra.

  The group continued in silence for another half hour, their energies focused on the demands of the climb, before Tara’s dad, panting, his face gleaming with sweat, spoke. ‘Sarge, I gotta say, I don’t know why we’re looking here. Josh looked here last night and I know he got into strife later and stuff but ... you’re listening an awful lot to the hunch of some blow-in kid.’

  Sergeant Ayres stopped in his tracks. ‘Now, Mr Jones, you’re not being helpful and as an investigator that does make me wonder about you. From my understanding of this situation, your daughter ran off after a discussion with you.’

  ‘Oh, here we go,’ said Tara’s dad. ‘Listen to the big copper now lecturing me.’

  For the first time, the policeman seemed to nearly lose his cool.

  ‘You listen to me Mr Jones, and you listen well. I am not lecturing you. I am merely making the observation that we might not be in this situation if you had taken the time to listen to your daughter rather than people who spend most of their time down at the club. I get the strong impression that anything that is happening now is not connected to the events of yesterday but rather, in fact, events of the past, which you have failed to handle well and in the interests of your own children.’ He stopped himself, wiped his mouth and let a long breath out from his nose.

  Tara’s dad’s voice grew louder, his contempt barely disguised. ‘Oh, what would you know?’

  ‘Mr Jones, all I suggest is that you might want to quit all the talking and attitude and think about why we are here. That might help me find your daughter.’

  Tara’s dad shrugged his shoulders, his eyes fixed somewhere behind the sergeant’s head.

  ‘Thank you,’ the sergeant said quietly, turning to resume his journey upwards.

  Toby was a little relieved that he and Boo would soon be setting off on their own.

  The track in front of them was even more steep and slippery and the afternoon was slipping away as well. ‘Argh!’ he heard the sergeant shout, his large boot sliding as he grabbed a nearby branch, leaves falling as he slipped back. Then his grip tightened and it held but his near fall ricocheted onto the others. Boo was knocked back and jumped quickly to her side like a surfer, desperately trying to find her balance. Tara’s dad reached his arm over Toby’s shoulder using the palm of his hand on the top of Boo’s arm to hold her still and said, ‘you’re right ... you’re right’. Toby pressed his hand on her forearm and the sergeant grabbed the medical backpack by the small handle at the top and the problem soon passed.

  ‘Phew! Thanks!’ said Boo nodding her appreciation to Mr Jones.

  The policeman wiped his brow. There was now an oval-sized patch on the back of his shirt that clung to him, and the reddish skin between his collar and his hair gleamed. ‘Alright, this seems to be as close to the top as it’s possible to get.’ He looked back up at the incline that he’d just slid down. ‘It’s highly doubtful the young lass could have made it further than here. This might be a good place to separate and start a more intensive search.’

  Breathing heavily, each of them twisted the lids off their drinking bottles and savoured a moment of rest, the sound of insects and birds competing with their own private thoughts of Tara. The heat now felt raw on their faces, the air bleached white in the ferocious Australian sun. Toby felt it fiercely on his head, and it was hard to think straight.

  Suddenly, he felt dizzy.

  ‘Are you alright, Toby?’ Boo’s voice sounded far away. ‘Maybe have a sit down over there, under some shade.’ She looked down to see that the constant rubbing from branches and shrubs had played havoc with the cuts on Toby’s leg. ‘Here, let me re-dress that for you.’

  ‘Oh geez, right,’ Toby said, following her gaze. He went and sat down, his back against the smooth trunk of a gum tree.

  Nearby the two-way radio on the policeman’s belt crackled alive. It was the Red Cross lady’s voice.

  ‘Base to Sergeant, do you copy, over?’ A mixture of surprise and respect washed over the policeman’s face. ‘I copy you loud and clear base, over.’

  ‘Roger that, Sergeant. I have received two reports in the last five minutes, over.’

  ‘Right, copy that base, go ahead.’

  ‘The Surf Lifesavers are reporting an as yet unconfirmed sighting of the shark and are seeking advice on any action.’

  The policeman’s face twitched. ‘Thanks, base, copy that. Can you relay to the lifeguards that Uncle Jacky should be brought in to see if he can be of some assistance. Over.’

  ‘Who’s Uncle Jacky?’ Toby whispered to Boo.

  ‘He’s a local Aboriginal Elder. He knows all there is to know about this area. I’ll be glad of his help.’

  Mrs Thompson’s voice crackled over the radio. ‘Roger that, Sergeant. The other report—’ Her voice then cut off and was replaced by the sound of rushing static for about twenty seconds.

  The sergeant stared skywards as he waited for the signal to resume. ‘Yes, go ahead, base.’

  ‘Volunteers from the State Emergency Service are following up a reported sighting of the missing girl across the river mouth at the northern end of the beach, over.’

  All eyes were on the policeman. Toby watched as the sergeant closed his eyes, processing this information. ‘Copy that, base. Stand by.’

  The lady was quick to reply. ‘Copy that, Sergeant. Standing by.’

  Tara’s dad pushed himself off the tree where he had been leaning, alongside his son, recovering from the trek. ‘See,’ he said, his voice already high with anger. ‘She’s not here! We told you, but you wouldn’t listen! We wasted time coming up all the way up here and she’s ... on the beach?’

  For the first time, the sergeant was silent, pinching his lower lip with his forefinger and thumb in thought.

  ‘C’mon Josh,’ Tara’s dad shouted, pulling at his son’s arm, his eyes all the while fixed on the sergeant. ‘We’re heading down there. Now!’

  ‘No, Mr Jones. You will both stay with me.’ The policeman walked forward to survey the mountaintop but stopped after a few steps, shaking his head. He raised the radio again. ‘Base, over,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Yes, go ahead, Sergeant.’

  ‘Stand by there, Mrs Thompson, we are returning to the vehicles and will then be en route to the beach, over.’

  ‘Copy that, Sergeant, I’ll stand by here, over.’

  Turning to face the others he simply said, ‘Okay, let’s head back.’ And with that Boo zipped up her first aid kit and helped Toby to his feet, and the party started their journey back down the rugged mountainside.

  Toby was amazed at how much faster the return trip to the cars seemed. It felt like half the time it had taken to go up. Everyone remained quiet and lost in their own thoughts, apart from the continuous stream of complaints by Mr Jones.

  The sergeant was kept occupied by conversations he was having on the walkie-talkie, mostly a stream of codes and terms Toby couldn’t make out. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they had not looked properly while they were there, or the feeling that Tara was on the mountain, despite the report of her being on the beach.

  He felt drained. His leg throbbed, and his head swam. Nothing felt right.

  Tara awoke with a start, unsure of where she was. Her eyes adjusted to remind her. She ran her fingertips over the rocky roof of her hideaway. Her mouth was dry and she needed to stretch so she made her way out of the cave.
The sun was now high up in the sky and she realised she had slept through most of the morning.

  She was sure she had heard her dad but in her sleep but dismissed the idea, realising she must have dreamt his familiar sound. It did make her think that her dad, and her brother, must know by now that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. She felt a prickle of anger as she recalled the scene on the wharf, her father flailing and furious. She then felt the wave of betrayal surge though her again as she tried to find the truth in all she now knew. She was at school in the small valley of her hometown, in First Grade, when she had found out about her mum. They lived in a larger coastal town that had been built around the tall chimneys of the steelworks where her dad worked. She remembered seeing the school principal, Mrs O’Connell, at the door looking odd, her face strained, with a flicker in her face as her eyes settled on her for a brief moment.

  ‘Wendy ...’ It was even stranger for her teacher to be called by her first name. ‘May I see you for a moment?’ Out the window, Tara noticed a police car in the car park.

  Her teacher’s courteous smile fell away as she turned back to address them. ‘Class, please finish up and get your things out for drawing,’ she told them as she left the room.

  The room buzzed with small talk. A paper plane sailed by Tara’s shoulder and then slid along the floor towards the blackboard. The words ‘Draw the Story’ were written on it in chalk.

  Two boys craned their necks towards the police car outside the window as a seagull squawked and flew past low.

  Her teacher returned, paused for a moment at the doorway then walked up to her and bent down close to her. ‘Tara, sweetheart, can you come with me to Mrs O’Connell’s office?’

  They made their way out of the room and down the hallway, past the classrooms, catching small glimpses and snippets of instruction as they went.

  It was such an ordinary day.

  Tara remembered, with peculiar clarity, collecting her brother Josh and a policewoman who introduced herself as Anne, outside the Fourth Grade classroom, before they were led into the principal’s office.