by Maggie Groff
‘You’re the American girl Symphony Starlight, aren’t you?’ I asked.
She nodded and looked down at the ground.
‘You’re missing your family I expect?’ I said.
Her answer came like a gust of wind, so quick and forceful that I knew the words were rehearsed. ‘No, I’m not! I don’t have an American family. Serene Cloud is my family.’ Her missing front teeth had not, I noticed, been replaced with a dental plate.
I took a punt. It was now or never, as I didn’t have the luxury of being able to ease into a relationship with this woman and pave the way to a comfortable denouement. But first I needed insurance that she wouldn’t betray me. My main priority was still Tildy and this was no time for niceties.
‘If you pass on what I say to you,’ I said slowly, keeping my voice low, ‘I will make sure that Serene Cloud knows you have told me he is a charlatan, and that the information I have gathered came from you.’
Recoiling as if I’d slapped her, she turned chalky white. Instinctively, I put out my hand to touch her but she scrambled away from me and stood up. I felt a total bastard.
‘Who are you?’ she spat at me. ‘What information? What are you doing here?’
‘Calm down, Casey,’ I said soothingly.
My use of her name broke the ice. She stopped dead in her tracks, stared at me like a frightened animal, then sat back down on the step.
‘How do you know my name?’
‘We don’t have much time,’ I told her. ‘If you want to get back to America and find your son, I can help you.’
‘You know about Clark?’ she cried, her fear momentarily forgotten. ‘Is he all right? Tell me. Tell me please!’
‘I know there is a family who loves you and will do anything to find your son, but you have to go home to help them. I believe Clark is with cult members who moved to either Pennsylvania or the Carolinas. It won’t be hard to find him once you’re home.’
Casey looked crestfallen. ‘I . . . I can’t go back.’ She pressed her hands to her eyes. ‘Serene Cloud has my passport and I don’t have any money. If I try to leave he’ll report me to immigration for visa violations, and to the police for shoplifting. I’ve been stealing for him. I don’t want to go to prison, I’m trapped.’
I shook my head. ‘No, you were trapped, but you’re not any longer. And you’re already in prison, Casey. I know people who can help get you home.’
She was quiet for a while and allowed me to rest a hand on her shoulder. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘The other two American women,’ I asked, ‘are they happy here?’
‘Yes, they don’t want to go back. They don’t speak to me any more.’ Casey sounded bitter.
‘Are they recruiting in Noosa?’
She nodded. ‘He lied to me. He told me the children would come later, but they never did. He hates children and he’s told me that I’ll never see my son again. He just likes getting women pregnant to prove his manhood.’
At that moment Cinnamon Toast walked round the side of the hut and both Casey and I gasped at being discovered in our private subterfuge.
‘Who hates children?’ Cinnamon said sharply, her expression suspicious.
I looked cautiously at Casey. How much had Cinnamon heard?
‘Oh, Symphony’s just homesick for America,’ I explained. ‘She thinks Serene Cloud left her son in the States because he doesn’t like children. She’s being silly. It’s obvious he loves kids, isn’t it, Symphony? I mean, look at Cinnamon’s tummy!’
Gently, I squeezed Casey’s shoulder. With my other hand I made a circling gesture with my forefinger next to my head to indicate to Cinnamon that Casey was a tad loopy. Cinnamon looked exasperated and nodded.
‘Yes, I’m being silly,’ Casey said finally, looking up. ‘Actually, Cinnamon, I was just about to explain to . . . to . . .’
‘Fantasia,’ I pretended to remind her.
‘Yes, sorry, Fantasia, I was going to explain to Fantasia about activating the sacred tides within her cosmic energies.’
Thankfully, Cinnamon looked satisfied with that response. Casey’s recovery of the situation was impressive and I hoped there were more untapped reserves of fortitude available to her. The big question was, had Cinnamon bought our charade? I tried not to contemplate the consequences if she went to Serene Cloud and told him of this little tête-à-tête.
‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ Cinnamon said. ‘And no more tears or silly talk about a son. Serene Cloud would have brought him here if he existed.’
When Cinnamon was out of earshot I sat on the steps next to Casey.
‘Do you believe all this stuff about cosmic energies?’ I asked, keeping my voice low.
‘Not any more. I figured it out a while back. I can’t believe I was so naïve, but I kept thinking that somewhere in all this horseshit there had to be a pony.’
Relieved by her response, I was also amused and realised that it would make a brilliant quote for my story. Fortunately, Casey appeared to have already worked out the hard part for herself, and as long as she found her son and a dentist fixed her teeth, I didn’t think it would take much to return her to the real world.
She needed to be ready to leave at any time, I told her, and that if I didn’t get her out today or tomorrow, I’d come back for her. I gave my solemn promise.
‘Why . . . why would you help me?’
‘Because I told your grandfather Harold Steinman that I would.’
‘You’ve spoken to Grandpa Harold?’
Nodding, I opened my diabetic kit and took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Casey. It was a coloured print of the photo Harold had taken of Casey and a baby on the courthouse steps.
‘Harold said to tell you he loves you,’ I said.
Carefully, Casey unfolded the paper and in an instant her face lit up. For a few rewarding moments I glimpsed the all-American girl.
‘That’s Clark,’ she said excitedly. ‘Oh thank you, thank you,’ and she threw her arms around me and kissed me.
So far, so good.
Now all I had to do was figure out a way to get her out of Bacchus Rising.
Chapter 57
I left Casey to enjoy her photo and collected a shawl and insect repellent from my hut. The evenings were cooler with the approach of winter, but this didn’t deter the bugs.
The thread on my backpack had gone, indicating that someone had been through my belongings. Everything appeared to be there—the doctored toothpaste tube was intact and the emergency mobile phone was still in its secret container. Glancing back over my shoulder to make sure I was alone, I tried my main mobile phone, but as I’d expected I couldn’t get a signal this far out. Nevertheless, I slipped the phone into the diabetic pack around my waist. I’d try later, on higher ground and in the clearing.
As I turned to leave I heard a whimper from the far end of the hut and went to investigate.
‘Oh no!’ The words burst out of me in anguish.
Tildy was lying on the floor behind the last bunk. One of her eyes was almost swollen shut and there was an angry red welt on the side of her face, as if she’d been hit with a meat mallet. Instantly I knew who had done this—I could even see the deeper red marks where his rings had impacted.
Sitting on the edge of the bunk, I stifled my anger and asked gently, ‘Did Serene Cloud do this to you?’
Tildy turned her face to the wall. ‘Go away!’
Unsure of what to do, I remained on the bunk, watching her. Suddenly she sat upright and leaned against the wall, her movements so quick they startled me. Tildy looked manic, her eyes wide and staring, her breathing quickly gaining momentum. Initially I thought it was just fury, but after a minute or two I realised she was hyperventilating.
‘Listen to me,’ I said sternly, kneeling down in front of her. ‘Purse your lips as if you’re going to whistle and breathe very slowly through your mouth. Do it!’
Tildy’s breathing was becoming more rapid, but I didn�
��t dare touch her face in case there were broken bones.
‘Do it!’ I repeated and I shook her shoulder.
There was an imperceptible jolt, as if Tildy had registered she was in trouble. Pursing my lips, I put my face in front of hers. ‘Like this,’ I told her, ‘like this.’
Tildy finally moved her lips, watching my face as I breathed in and out very slowly.
‘Very slowly like me,’ I coached. ‘That’s it, good girl.’
Gradually, over a period of about fifteen minutes, she calmed and her breathing returned to some semblance of normality.
Relieved, I lightly patted her back. ‘Do you think anything’s broken in your face?’
Tildy shook her head, and I hoped she was right.
‘Do you want me to take you to a hospital?’ As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew there was no way I could get Tildy to medical attention, and the look she gave me confirmed my thoughts. Serene Cloud wouldn’t allow her to leave.
Grabbing a hand towel, I ran to the ablutions block, soaked the towel in cold water, wrung it out and returned to Tildy, gently placing it against her damaged face. Ice would have been more effective, but this was better than nothing.
I stayed with her for some time, even though she no longer acknowledged my presence. As soon as I’d reassured myself she was okay to be left alone, and that her breathing was regular, I stood up to leave.
‘I’ll come back in a little while,’ I told her. ‘To make sure you’re okay.’
Tildy ignored me. Clearly she was beyond reasoned thought, and I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get help for her or persuade her to leave.
Solar lamps provided effective light in the main compound and I moved easily along the path towards the dining area, fruitlessly trying to get a phone signal and checking as I went for security cameras on the huts and trees. As far as I could work out, cameras appeared to be only at the front gate, which was a bonus.
By the time I reached the dining area the others had already started to eat. Hastily, I sat on a bench at a table with Bauble, Pan, Solly, Laura and Dawn.
Titania Pearl and Prince Photon were delivering plates of beef curry and rice to the tables and, spotting me, Prince Photon veered in my direction with a plate. Knowing that I had to eat, I forced some of the food down, but recent events had made my hunger evaporate and I felt slightly sick. The food tasted okay, though it wouldn’t be winning any restaurant awards, especially as the waiters had the unusual habit of feeling up the customers as they delivered the food.
The bugs were horrendous and the citronella candles that burned on every table did little to keep them away. Fortunately I was plastered in insect repellent, and I draped the shawl over my shoulders for further protection. I didn’t want my souvenir of the weekend to be Ross River Fever.
Casey was seated with Cinnamon Toast at the next table and they were chatting away and occasionally laughing. Casey gave me a little wave and I reciprocated, hoping she wasn’t overdoing the happy act and arousing Cinnamon’s suspicions.
I was about to excuse myself and go back to the hut to check on Tildy when I saw her sitting at the end of another table, next to Midnight Pansy. Somehow she had managed to get herself to dinner, although one of her eyes was now completely shut and the side of her face was turning purple. All those around Tildy, I noticed in amazement, appeared to be ignoring the horrendous marks on her face.
Serene Cloud walked amongst the tables, bestowing strokes and hugs. As he walked behind me, he stopped, leaned over and picked up my water glass and took a swig. Then he placed his hands on my shoulders and roughly massaged my upper back. I wasn’t sure if his actions were for my benefit or Dawn’s, who was sitting opposite me and looking like she’d swallowed a parking meter.
Serene Cloud playfully flicked Pan on the back. Immediately Pan stood up and moved around the table and stood behind Dawn and started to massage her shoulders. Feeling very uncomfortable, I turned to Serene Cloud and said, ‘Thank you, that was nice. Perhaps someone else would like a turn?’
He smirked and quickly slid his hand down to my right breast and squeezed.
‘Oh!’ I gasped, and he laughed and slapped my bottom. And because I wanted to save Tildy and Casey, there wasn’t a thing I could do about it, and I laughed too.
Dawn was smiling at me like a lunatic and no doubt wishing the breast that had been squeezed was hers. Solly was watching my reaction, her expression blank. Laura had gone off somewhere, probably to the bathroom.
We’d almost finished eating when Tildy stood up and wandered away from the tables. Automatically, I looked around for Serene Cloud. He was standing behind Prince Photon with his arms folded, watching Tildy, and I was pretty sure she hadn’t seen him. Tildy casually disappeared like a will-o’-the-wisp into the trees and Serene Cloud, puce with rage, set off after her.
There’s no instruction manual for situations like this, and Girl Guides badges hadn’t covered this particular emergency either. I weighed my options, such as they were. It would be foolish to isolate myself in the rainforest with a maniac like Serene Cloud, and I couldn’t phone for help, so in reality there were no options. Resigning myself to staying put and feeling guilty, I worried about Tildy.
In the melee of after-dinner clearing I discreetly put the water glass that Serene Cloud had touched into my diabetic pack, thinking that I would have his fingerprints and DNA should they be needed. Unfortunately Solly saw me, and all I could do was hope she’d assume I was light-fingered.
Shortly, Pan brought out a guitar and sang songs about heavenly spirits and the universe, though I wasn’t really listening. I was tuned into sounds from the rainforest and wondering what that monster was doing to Tildy.
Laura returned and she and Solly slow-danced together in their enormous boots. Other couples joined them, although it was more like feeling another person’s body parts than dancing.
I watched and thought. Thought and watched.
And planned my night manoeuvre.
It was ten o’clock when Serene Cloud emerged from the rainforest and swept into our midst. His clothing was dishevelled, his hat missing and his hair a mess. There was no sign of Tildy and my heart sank.
The music abruptly ceased and followers stopped what they were doing and knelt on the ground chanting, ‘Mystic Master, Mystic Master . . .’
Midnight Pansy rushed to Serene Cloud, knelt before him and kissed his rings. In response, he placed his hand on her head and closed his eyes. Then Midnight Pansy stood up and, apparently overwhelmed by the experience, staggered slightly and clutched her hands to her chest as she moved away.
Titania Pearl was next, and then one after another followers, including Casey, went to their master and knelt and kissed his rings. It was clear that I was witnessing the Bacchus Rising goodnight ritual.
Suddenly Dawn ran to Serene Cloud and fell to her knees, like Joan of Arc before King Charles. It was sickening and I looked around hoping to gauge some reaction from Solly and Laura, but they’d disappeared.
That left me.
There was no sense in drawing attention to myself, so I took a deep breath and walked up to Serene Cloud . . .
Chapter 58
Later, I lay staring at the underside of the top bunk, consumed with worry about Tildy. She was still nowhere to be seen and I cursed myself for not staying with her earlier. Oddly, none of the others had mentioned that she was injured or missing, although they must have noticed. What if Serene Cloud had hit her again? Or worse?
Knowing I would be going out later to search for her, I’d worn jeans, a T-shirt and jogging shoes to bed. My diabetic pack was around my waist and I held the torch under the covers. For a long time I listened to steady breathing in the room, praying Tildy would come back and I wouldn’t have to venture out amongst the nighttime beasties.
At midnight I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bunk. No one stirred; I stood and waited a few seconds, but everyone appeared to be asleep. In the gloom I c
ould see that Solly’s bunk was empty, and when I gave a cursory glance at Laura’s there were two people snuggled under the sheet. Amused, I tiptoed out the door, closing it carefully behind me. If anyone woke, I would say I was on my way to the bathroom.
My alter ego, Adam’s Rib, and the yarn-bombing capers had provided a fertile training ground for night missions, and I was well used to creeping about in the dark. Avoiding areas illuminated by solar lamps, I moved stealthily through the compound towards the spot where Tildy had entered the rainforest.
It was pitch-black amongst the trees and damn scary. Switching on the torch, I gingerly moved on, frequently glancing behind me to register the direction of the compound lights. I tried not to think about snakes and giant goannas. For protection against spiders, I picked up a stick and waved it in front of my face as I went—those little suckers can necrose your skin under the bite, lethal for diabetics.
The undergrowth crunched as I trod steadily ahead, sidestepping creepers and exposed roots from strangler figs. A sugar glider almost gave me a heart attack as it zipped past my face and landed against the trunk of a huge tallowwood. Above, in the trees, I could hear owls and other night birds; below, the sounds of frogs and the constant scurrying of small creatures. For a while, to salve my fears, I pretended to be David Attenborough with a whole production team for backup.
After twenty minutes or so, and a good distance into the rainforest, my torchlight picked up a block of white amongst the trees. Switching off the torch, I crept ahead until I was close enough to make out the lines of a small tent. I crouched and slowly inched my way forward till I was about ten metres from the tent, then I stopped and listened. Hearing no sounds, I felt around for something to throw and my fingers clasped a stone. I stood up and threw it at the tent. Surprised that I’d actually hit the mark, I dropped to the ground and waited. Nothing.
I tiptoed on, bracing myself as I reached the tent. Prepared to run like the wind, in one swift move I threw aside the tent flap and shone my torch inside. It was empty except for a sleeping bag, a toy rabbit and a Where’s Wally? book.