Billabong Bend

by Jennifer Scoullar

  Ric picked up the telephone. Dead. The rain had been too much for the wires. With no way to charge his mobile and no landline, he and Sophie were completely cut off. It was an unnerving feeling. He emerged into the rain-soaked morning and set about moving the farm machinery from the sheds, parking the various pickers and tractors and boll-buggies further down the road where there was a bit of a hill. Hell, Dad still owed money on some of them. The flood wasn’t going to get them if he could help it.

  It was a slow and thankless task. Who was to say they were safe anywhere in this weather? To break up the boredom he went to check on the steers. Following the sound of their hungry bellows, he discovered the unfortunate animals standing miserably with their tails to the biting wind, in a corner of their paddock that was marginally higher than the rest. The poor things were up to their knees in water. If the river kept rising at this speed, they’d be up to their necks by morning. Ric cut the fence and watched the cattle splash away. There was nothing else to do. They’d have to fend for themselves.

  It was past lunchtime when he drove the last picker to the relative safety of higher ground. Ric walked the kilometre back to Donnalee in driving rain, so accustomed to it by now that he barely took any notice. When he arrived home, he dug another stick into the mud at the edge of the rising water. The one he’d put there two hours ago was already submerged. Ric did a lap of the house, feeling under siege. The goose pen was empty. He should have guessed it. Sophie had taken advantage of his absence to sneak her birds back into the house. But when Ric went inside, there was no sign of her or the geese. He flicked on the light. Damn it, of course, no power. ‘Sophie?’ Not in the bedroom, not in the bathroom, nowhere inside at all. He ran to the back door and roared out her name. ‘Sophie!’ And then he saw something that stopped his heart from beating. The boat was gone.

  Nina had turned away from the Bunyip and was making her way up to the house when a flurry of barking stopped her in her tracks. Instead of following her, Jinx had remained at the river. Something had caught his attention. Nina ran back down and scanned the vast expanse of water. It was hard to make anything out in the pouring rain. And then she heard it, the drone of a motor, growing louder. Somewhere beyond the slanting curtain of rain was a boat. Nina shook her head. Madness, to try to navigate this flood. Whoever could it be?

  The engine noise seemed to come from beyond the opposite bank, or at least from beyond where the opposite bank used to be. It now lay buried by metres of water. ‘Shut up, Jinx,’ Nina said, moving closer, shielding her eyes from the rain, trying to keep her balance on the slippery, sucking edge of the river. There, behind some red gums felled by the flood, a motorboat was making its tortuous way towards her. Nina held her breath. It might manage to hold its course out there on the overflow. But it could be in trouble when it reached the main channel, where the current ran deep and dangerous and deceptively fast.

  Who was in the boat? Not Ric, not nearly big enough. And what were those shapes? Shadowy shapes moving around. The figure stood up. Oh no. It was Sophie. ‘Go back!’ screamed Nina, but the wind snatched her words away. What to do? ‘Stay there!’ she yelled. ‘I’m coming to get you.’ Then she turned and bolted for the Pelican.

  It wasn’t far away, tied up at a temporary mooring below the dam. And the keys should still be in the pocket of her raincoat. Nina groped around with icy fingers. Yes, they were there. She reached the boat, dragged the tarpaulin off it and sprang inside. Stop fumbling, you idiot. Calm down and get that damn key into the ignition. Don’t forget to untie her. Nina held her breath until the motor turned over and she thanked God for the reliability of the trusty little vessel. The boat had never once let her down. ‘Let’s go,’ she said and swung towards the river.

  Damn it, there went her hat. Without the brim to shield her eyes from the rain, it was hard to see. Her own engine had drowned out the noise of the other craft, but Jinx’s incessant barking told her that Sophie was close. Nina brushed away the dripping hair plastering her face. The wind had dropped, at least that was something. She steered towards the centre of the river. Already the clutching power of the current tugged at her hull. It seemed to take forever before she spotted it. There, not far from where she’d last seen it. There was the other boat, jammed in the fork of a fallen tree, held fast by the force of the flow.

  The little girl sat huddled on the floor like a drowned thing, surrounded by shuffling geese. What on earth? It was the geese who saw her first, snaking their necks in the Pelican’s direction and shaking their wings. ‘Sophie,’ screamed Nina. ‘I’m coming.’ The girl turned a terrified face towards her and started to stand. ‘No! Stay down.’ Nina made a sweeping downwards motion with her arms. Sophie stared at her for a moment and then crouched low again. Nina remembered to breathe. Ever since she was a child, Nina had loved the floods, had revelled in their wild untamed power. But now she feared the surging river with its deadly cargo of logs and debris. What chance would a child have in the water?

  Nina was getting close now. Twice she entered the main channel and twice she changed her mind and turned back, worried the Pelican might be swept past her target. But with each attempt she was getting a feel for the energy of the river, learning how to judge the angle. On her third attempt Nina was more sure of herself. She entered the current just right, balancing the thrust of the motor with the strength of the flow, and cutting across the main channel. After a few attempts, she manoeuvred the Pelican up to the other boat, using the fallen red gum to stabilise it. ‘Are you okay?’

  Sophie nodded and gave the ghost of a smile. ‘The motor stopped. We’re stuck.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that.’ Nina’s heart thudded against her ribs. She pointed to the dark, swift-flowing water at the centre of the river. ‘You wouldn’t have had a hope out there.’ She tied the Pelican first to the tree and then to the girl’s boat. ‘Come on. Let’s get you lot in here with me.’

  Nina reached out her arms through the sheets of rain, and Sophie took hold of her with icy hands. The next moment the girl was safely beside her, and the geese were coming too. With a great flapping of wings they leaped and honked their way after Sophie and onto the Pelican. ‘Right,’ said Nina, wiping streams of water from her eyes and waiting for the birds to settle. She reached beneath the seat. ‘Put on this life jacket and I’ll take you home.’

  ‘No,’ Sophie said. ‘Dad’s going to send the geese to some sort of a zoo. I want you to have them.’

  Zoo? What did she mean? With a loud creaking noise, a big branch splintered away from the fallen tree trunk, loosening its hold on the other boat. Nina pulled out a pocketknife and slashed the rope that bound the two craft together. With a ripping sound the abandoned runabout tore from its anchor and was swept off, spinning wildly until it found its course and arrowed away. She held Sophie tight and searched her face. The pleading eyes struck a chord that resonated deep within Nina. A goose nuzzled its bill against the girl’s cheek and she hugged it fiercely. Nina stared at the river, at the great running stream rushing blindly along. To get back to Red Gums she’d have to cross it, brave the main channel again, where the current was fiercest and the danger greatest. But if what Sophie said was right? If these beautiful wild babies were bound for a zoo? It was unthinkable. She took another look at Sophie’s expectant face and made up her mind. This girl had risked her life for the love of these birds. How could she let her down now? ‘Okay.’ Nina checked the girl’s life jacket was fitted correctly. ‘We’ll go to my place.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Nina smiled and shook her head, half in wonder, half in admiration. They were going to cross the swollen river instead of turning back to the relative safety of Donnalee, and Sophie was thanking her? She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. How she loved this little girl.

  Nina untied from the tree and aimed for the south side of the river, but it was psychologically harder this time. The added responsibility of her precious passengers caused her to second-guess herself. When she finally
made her move she was too slow, too hesitant, giving the torrent a chance to hijack Pelican’s bow. Jinx had spotted them and was racing along the bank, keeping pace with the boat. Calm down, she told herself. Keep your nerve and work with the river. Go with the flow around the bend, and then slide off to the side, where the channel was wider and the bank shallower.

  The manoeuvre went as planned. But just as she escaped the grip of the current, something slammed into the boat from beneath – a submerged log. The force of the impact catapulted two of the geese overboard.

  ‘No!’ screamed Sophie, and went to dive in after them. Nina grabbed the girl’s arm mid-leap. ‘I’ve got to save them.’ Sophie struggled to free herself. ‘Let me go!’ The madly paddling birds were swept from sight.

  Nina maintained her iron grip and steered the boat one-handed to the bank. The water was moving fast even here. ‘Get out,’ she said. ‘All of you.’ Her voice was stern and commanding. Sophie climbed from the Pelican, and then helped the frightened geese out too. Jinx arrived and made a beeline for Sophie. The girl stooped to hug his neck, then straightened up.

  ‘What about Odette and Igor?’ asked Sophie through chattering teeth.

  ‘I’ll find them,’ said Nina. ‘You follow Jinx up to the house. Take off those wet clothes and find something in my room to wear. Then wrap yourself in a blanket, and wait for me, okay?’ The girl just stared. ‘Do you want me to look for those geese or not?’ Sophie nodded. ‘Then do as you’re bloody well told. Jinx, go home.’

  The dog whined and scrambled up the shallow bank. Sophie cast one last, longing look at Nina and then started after him. The faithful young geese followed in a flurry of feathers.

  Nina kept the Pelican against the bank until Sophie was out of sight, then cast her eye downstream for any sign of the missing birds. This was how it should be. The great Bunyip running high, fast and free, as it had done in ages past, stirring her almost like a lover. She took a bottomless breath, feeling her throbbing heart, the rush of danger deep in her chest. A shock of joy cut through the last of her fear. This was what it meant to be alive.

  Ric pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until they hurt. Then he called for his daughter, shouting his misery and terror to the dark and desolate sky. ‘Sophie!’ But the whipping wind stole his words and hurled them into the void. Think, he told himself. Figure it out. What would prompt her to pile her much-loved pets into a boat and risk all of their lives? He tried to put himself in her place, struggled to think like Sophie, and it was suddenly clear. She was on a mission to rescue the birds from . . . well, from him. Him and his stupid plan to give her geese away. He cupped his hands behind his head, arched his neck. He’d driven his own daughter into the treacherous floodwaters. Ric yelled out her name again. No boat, no bridge, no phone – no way to get help. It was a waking nightmare.

  Ric cursed himself, cursed the rain and the river and the pitiless god above. Was he supposed to wait and do nothing while Sophie drowned? Would his dear, beautiful girl die like his father had? What could he do? Wait, what about the old inflatable? He’d already made a start on repairs, but he hadn’t finished. The hull needed reinforcing, more layers of fibreglass and resin, more paint and wax. Who knew how waterproof the little boat was. It might not last ten minutes on the river, but then again it might, and there was nothing wrong with the motor.

  Ric dashed inside and found the keys, stopping briefly to look for life jackets. No luck. They must be in the missing tinny. He grabbed two buckets for bailers, found the inflatable under the house and dragged it the short distance to the water’s edge. Holding his breath, he stepped in and pushed off. Barely waiting to see if the little craft floated, he started the motor and sped away. Plumes of spray fanned out behind as he zigzagged across the flood, testing the steering. So far, so good.

  CHAPTER 39

  Nina headed downstream, pulled by the surging current. It was harder than she’d first imagined to spot the missing birds. Visibility was dismal, and juvenile magpie geese lacked the distinctive white backs of adults. Instead they were dusky black all over, well camouflaged against the shadowy river.

  All kinds of animals had sought safety in the trees along the flooded banks. Snakes and goannas, possums and rakali. Sugar gliders shared gum tree forks with surprised koalas. Even a soggy piglet had found refuge on a broad branch. Nina mentally noted the location of the trapped animals. There’d be plenty more rescues to perform after this one. Hang on, what was that? Ahead, a dead river gum had lost its balance and toppled into the main current, still anchored by its roots. Two dark birds perched on its white skeleton, the contrast making them easy to spot. Cormorants maybe, or yearling swans? No, miracle of miracles, it was Sophie’s geese.

  Nina angled the Pelican towards them. This pick-up was going to be a bit more complicated. The fallen tree was in fast-flowing water and she couldn’t count on the cooperation of the stranded birds. Still, the principle was the same. Nose into the branches and let the flow pin the boat against the trunk. Then, use the catching hook and net that she always kept in the boat to grab the geese.

  But Nina misjudged the strength and direction of the flow. It swirled too swiftly around the tree, yanking at the Pelican’s stern, sending it shooting sideways. An overhanging bough clouted her on the head as she leaned in with the catching hook. Next minute she was in the water.

  The impact stunned her, made her ears roar and rattled her brain. Shit. In her rush to go after Sophie she’d forgotten her own life jacket. An icy band tightened around Nina’s chest. She clutched at the tree before being sucked underwater. The choking cold snatched at her nose and throat, trying to steal the breath from her lungs. With a mighty effort Nina tightened her grip on the branch and wrenched her head free of the swirling river, gulping down lungfuls of sweet air. Now a new danger threatened. The stern with its thrashing propeller veered towards her. She tried to clamber clear, but her limbs were like lead. The roaring in her ears grew painfully loud, making her dizzy. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Maybe she should just let go, let the river have her.

  Nina’s eyes swam with dots of light, like the mirrored surface of the Bunyip on a starry night. She squeezed her lids tight, and a face came unexpectedly into focus – Eva, disappointment showing in her wise eyes. The vision forced her brain into gear. She still had hold of the catching hook. Kicking her legs to get a lift, she stretched the hook towards an upper branch. It was slippery with rain and she almost lost hold, but at last she had it. She hauled herself from the water. A moment later, the Pelican yawed wildly, broke free of the tree and took off downstream. Nina propped with her back against a branch and watched it go with a sinking heart. The bigger goose, most probably Odette, edged near and snuggled in close for comfort. Nina hung the hook on a stick and stroked the rare bird’s sooty feathers with both hands. Odette turned to nibble her arm. The gesture was surprisingly tender. Nina gazed at the floodwaters surrounding them and slipped her freezing fingers into Odette’s feathers.

  And then Nina heard it – the sound of an approaching boat. She swallowed hard and dared to hope. Yes, a man in one of those rigid inflatable dinghies. It seemed to take forever to come nearer. Nina looked more closely. Something was wrong; it was riding too low in the water. ‘Help!’ She waved her arms. ‘Over here!’ Hurray, he’d seen her. The man waved too and altered course in her direction. Who was he, and what was he doing here, out on the river in the rain? He came closer, and closer still – and then she knew. It was Ric, and he’d come to save her life.

  CHAPTER 40

  The dead gum tree reared its stark white head from the river. How on earth? Not Sophie marooned in its branches like Ric had first thought, but Nina. His heart swelled with fear but also with love, a love as powerful as ever despite all their problems, as powerful as the raging flood itself. He angled his boat towards her. It had been taking on water right from the start. He’d only got this far thanks to constant bailing, and also because the little inflatable’s design ma
de it extremely buoyant. But it wouldn’t float forever.

  Ric sneaked in sideways at an angle to the current until his dinghy was parallel to the tree and Nina was almost within reach. Two of Sophie’s geese were with her. How extraordinary. He nudged closer. They’d have to hurry. The dinghy wouldn’t withstand being pinned by the full force of the current for long. ‘Are you hurt?’

  Nina shook her head. ‘I found Sophie,’ she managed through knocking teeth. ‘She’s safe at my place.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Ric went weak with relief and almost let the boat slide off the tree. Sophie was safe. How would he ever be able to thank Nina? ‘Come on.’ He offered his hand. ‘We need to go.’

  ‘Wait.’ Nina gathered the nearest goose in her arms. He leaned over and grabbed it from her. Trust Nina. She was as bad as Sophie when it came to those birds. The second goose was more difficult. It kept moving out of reach.

  ‘Leave it,’ he yelled. ‘We’ve got to go. I’m sinking.’ The rain was drumming harder, if that was even possible, and since he’d stopped bailing, the dinghy was taking on water fast. Nina ignored him and produced a piece of wire from nowhere. What was she, magic? She hooked the bird’s leg, and after a brief struggle it gave up all resistance. Ric grabbed the goose from her and placed it beside its sibling. The two touched beaks and started dabbling in the water in the bottom of the boat. He took a deep breath. ‘Your turn.’

  Nina jumped across and for a moment he had her in his arms. Then they were away. Ric reversed clear of the snag, straightening up by letting the current swing the nose of the dinghy about. Nina started bailing. There was no point trying to fight the flow head-on. This was going to be a gradual escape. ‘Look.’ Nina pointed to a red gum sliding by on their left, its trunk split by lightning. Ric nodded grimly. Until now it had been hard to place their location on the flood-changed waterway, but there was no mistaking that landmark. Not far from the river junction. Once the wild waters of the Kingfisher joined the flow they’d be in real trouble. Nina bailed furiously and the dinghy gradually inched its way sideways, out of the main current.