Mahsoud signalled the waitress and ordered Darcy’s drink. He turned back to them and said, ‘It is very good you are trying to help this poor girl. She has probably lost her family, she might be all alone.’ He looked concerned and serious. ‘So tell me, when you have this girl at your house, does she speak about her family? About her father?’ And he leaned in towards them as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear.
‘Why are you so interested in her father?’ Sam folded his arms across his chest and stared at Mahsoud.
Mahsoud frowned at them, and looked as if he was considering something carefully. ‘Can I trust you young men? This is very important information.’ Just then the waitress brought Darcy’s banana smoothie, and Mahsoud fell silent until they were alone once more. He hesitated again, and then seemed to make up his mind to tell them. ‘Not all refugees are innocent people. Some of them are criminals. I work for the Afghanistan government. Some of the people who were on these boats are involved in trafficking illegal drugs, and we have followed them here. You have heard of opium, and heroin? They are very big business for these criminals.’
Sam nodded, and Darcy’s mouth fell open.
‘We are trying to catch these bad people before they get away and start a new drug business here.’ He paused for a moment, and looked at them, at Darcy in particular, who was noisily sucking the smoothie.
‘We have a big reward for catching these criminals. If you find out any information, please, you let me know. Hamid Mahsoud, yes?’ He wrote his name and mobile phone number on a piece of paper, and passed it across the table. It lay there between them.
‘So, I must go. Thank you for any help you can give to us. Goodbye.’ He smiled at them, and left the café.
Sam stared at the paper Mahsoud had left. Darcy picked it up.
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘A reward, huh?’
‘You don’t believe him, do you?’ Sam was incredulous.
‘Why wouldn’t he be telling the truth? He’s from the Afghanistan government, so he must be okay. I wonder how big the reward is?’
Sam shook his head. ‘C’mon, Darce, we’re going back to see Spiros O’Reilly.’
A few minutes later they were sitting in the same chairs in front of the barrister, who looked a bit puzzled to see them again so soon. He ran a hand through his messy hair, messing it up even more, and said, ‘Did you remember something else?’
‘Mr O’Reilly, is Mr Mahsoud really from the Afghanistan government?’
‘Yes. He’s been sent from their embassy in Canberra to help us deal with these immigrants. He’s been a big help translating for us. Turns out quite a lot of the people aren’t political refugees. He’s been able to identify several of them as wanted criminals back in Afghanistan.’
‘Do you trust him?’
‘I’ve got no reason not to, Sam. Why are you asking?’
‘It’s just that he came and talked to us, in this café, and he wanted us to give him information if we found anything out from Kalila. I dunno, it just didn’t sound right to me.’
Spiros O’Reilly frowned and leaned back in his chair. ‘I guess they do things differently in places like Afghanistan. I think it’s a bit wild over there, from a law and order point of view. They have to deal with so much crime and violence, nothing like we’re used to, that I guess they take a few shortcuts along the way. Look, if you feel more comfortable, just pass anything on to me first, okay?’
Sam thought for a moment. He looked up at the barrister, and said, ‘Mr O’Reilly, do you think it’s okay for kids to get locked up for years in a detention centre, just because someone says it’s the law?’
‘No, Sam, I don’t think it’s okay. But when the government makes a law, we don’t have any choice about it, except for arguing it in court. That’s where we’ll be trying to get the best deal for Kalila.’
‘Maybe the government’s made a mistake about this,’ said Sam. ‘Even governments can make mistakes, can’t they?’
Spiros O’Reilly sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. ‘You know, I do a lot of these cases, and I see people spending a long time in custody who shouldn’t be there. Sure, plenty of illegals are just trying to beat the system, and sneak in because they want an easier life. But there are genuine refugees who get caught up in the paperwork. And it’s the kids who cop the worst of it.’ He paused for a moment as if weighing something up, and then said, looking straight at Sam, ‘You’re really determined about this, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am. We all are – me, George, Tess and Darcy.’
Spiros stood up and closed the office door, which had been left open so that he could hear if anyone came in to the reception area while the receptionist was at lunch. He sat down in his chair, placed his hands on the desk in front of him, and looked at Sam. ‘I’m going to give you some advice, but you didn’t hear this from me, okay? My advice is to get as much publicity as you can about this kid, and keep her out at Brumby Plains as long as you can. If you get public opinion onside with this – and I know a lot of people are unhappy about children in detention – the government will be forced to face up to it and find some other solution. I’ll drop a little word to a mate of mine at the newspaper. He’s been waiting for something like this, and he’ll get it on the national wire service. I’ll get him to organise the media and they’ll call you out at the station.
‘I’ll come in and help you once the story’s out in the open, but you need to be acting alone at the start. And we won’t say anything to Mr Mahsoud about it. He might be from the Afghanistan government, and he seems like a good enough bloke, but he has this strange attitude to publicity. Never wants me to talk to the papers about the refugees. However, I don’t work for Mr Mahsoud.’
Sam and Darcy raced back to the café and got there just minutes before Jaz arrived. She looked pleased with herself.
‘I’ve finished everything already! Hey, something really freaky just happened. I sent off a parcel to my grandmother in Iran, and right outside the post office, I heard a man speaking Persian on a mobile phone! I’ve never heard anyone around here speaking Persian before. How weird is that?’
Sam stared at Jaz. ‘Could you understand what he was saying?’
‘Yeah, that was the freaky bit, actually. At first I thought he said something that sounded like Brumby Plains, but I must have been wrong. Why would a man be talking about Brumby Plains in Persian? I probably just misheard him. But I did hear him say he had to find a list of people’s names. And he said the name “Hasheem Tariq” a couple of times, and “Kalila”. That’s a pretty name – I noticed that because I have a cousin called Kalila. Small world really, isn’t it?’
The trip home couldn’t go fast enough for Sam. He had convinced Jaz to have a really quick lunch, and they were on their way by twelve thirty. Sam sat in the back thinking while Darcy and Jaz chatted in the front seat. As soon as they arrived, he ran into the house to find Tess and George.
‘Where’s Uncle Mungo?’ he said.
‘He and Jock have gone out round the floodplain paddock to check on the cows. They’ve only just left, so they’ll be a couple of hours,’ said George.
They huddled in Sam’s bedroom and kept their voices low as Sam related what had happened in the lawyer’s office.
‘Oh no!’ said Tess, looking stricken. ‘They’re coming out to get her now? What are we going to do?’
‘Well, Spiros O’Reilly turned out to be on our side. He thinks we should keep Kalila out here, hidden, and that we should get as much publicity as possible. He said he’ll be able to help us once there’s some publicity, but that we have to do it by ourselves first.’
‘But what can we do from here? How can we get publicity like that? I mean, who’ll listen to us? And the Immigration people will be out here soon!’ said Tess.
‘Spiros is organising the publicity,’ said Darcy. ‘He said the media will ring us here and we can tell them when to come out. He’s pretty cool!’
Sam went on: ‘We don’t let t
he Immigration people know where Kalila is. We hide her somewhere else until the media people get here. If people can see Kalila, and know she is going to be locked up, maybe they’ll tell the government not to do it.’
‘Where can we hide her? I mean, if the police or whoever come out here, they’ll just search the house and find her, won’t they?’ said Tess.
‘That’s right,’ Sam replied. ‘Where’s the one place they wouldn’t think of looking?’
Sam and George waited at the Crocodile Creek crossing for Old Vincent Nullungarr to arrive. Being only thirteen, Sam of course didn’t have a driver’s licence, which meant he couldn’t drive across the highway which marked the boundary between Vincent’s place and Brumby Plains. So he had phoned the old man and asked him to meet them at the creek, which was roughly halfway and still on the station.
Sam could hear an engine approaching, and got to his feet. A dusty white Land Cruiser ute pulled up, and Old Vincent climbed down from the driver’s seat.
‘Hey, my boy! Good to see you, and you too George. How that old dad of yours, eh? He gunna be okay, that Ol’ Mac. Too strong that one.’ Vincent put an arm around each of their shoulders and they walked over into the shade, where a blackened billy sat beside a small fire.
‘Ah, good boy. You bin make a cuppa tea. That’s good. Bit thirsty for a drink of tea, eh?’
They had known the old Aboriginal man for as long as they could remember. Sam and George often went fishing or hunting with him, and with his two grandchildren. Norrie and Lazarus were away at school, boarding with family in the nearby mining town, but in the school holidays they often got together with the McAllister boys.
Just a few months earlier, Sam and George had discovered some history about the old man that had amazed and disturbed them. A mysterious cave they’d found up on the Arm, on the eastern boundary of the property, was out of bounds but they didn’t know why, only that Old Vincent had said it was a bad place, and no one should go there. After an adventure involving the cave, bird smugglers, a crooked neighbour and the near-loss of their home, the old Aboriginal man had told Sam how when he was a very young boy, he had hidden in the cave to escape a terrible massacre.
They sat down, and while Sam brought Vincent up to date on the latest news from Adelaide, George poured three pannikins of tea, and stirred spoonfuls of sugar into them.
They settled back in the shade, sipping the tea, and finally Vincent said, ‘So, what you got to tell me? Must be something bothering you, eh?’
Sam nodded. ‘Vincent, a few days ago, after Dad went to the hospital, George and I found a little girl down on Deception Point. She’s a refugee. She was running away from some bad men in another country, with her parents, and she got separated from them, and then her boat sank on the reef. Everybody else drowned, and she’s all alone.’
‘Oh, that too sad, poor thing.’ Vincent shook his head.
‘The government’s going to come and get her, and she’ll be locked up, maybe for years. She’s only a little kid, and it’s wrong to lock kids up like that!’
George joined in. ‘We saw pictures of other kids, on tv last week. They came to Australia just like Kalila, and they’re locked up behind a big wire fence. It’s not even their fault!’
Sam continued: ‘We were thinking, if we could hide her away for a while, and make a big noise on tv and in the papers, maybe the government wouldn’t lock her up. Maybe they’d have to change their minds, and make a better law about what should happen to the kids?’
For a while, Old Vincent said nothing, absorbing all they’d told him. Then he said, ‘Sometime you gotta make a big noise, to change a law. That gov’mint mob, they don’t listen too good. But they don’t like that newspaper, or that tv, eh? So, what you gunna do?’
Sam hesitated. ‘I thought, maybe, if it was all right with you, that we could hide her in the cave for a while. No one would find her up there, and we’d stay with her and look after her. It might only take a little while …’ He trailed off, thinking how lame it sounded.
Vincent was silent and still for another few moments. Then he nodded his head slowly, and said, ‘That old cave, it bin hide one orphan child a long time ago. I reckon it can hide one again.’
Sam and George raced back to the house. They had left Tess and Darcy organising food and blankets to take up to the cave, just in case Vincent agreed, and as soon as they pulled up in front of the house, Tess and Darcy ran over to them.
‘Quick!’ said Sam. ‘We can do it!’
Within ten minutes they were out of the house and away, food, water, an esky and three swags in the back of the Land Cruiser, and Kalila in the middle of the back seat between Tess and George, hugging her atlas to herself.
Twenty minutes later they were at the bottom of the Arm, just below the cave. It was late afternoon now, and the light was getting dull. They’d brought some lamps and a torch, and carried all the gear up the path to the big old banyan tree at the top of the ridge that marked the location of the cave. There was a hole made by its roots which led into the cave, a secret entrance which George had found accidentally when he fell into it the first time. Old Vincent was waiting for them by the tree. He had insisted that he would stay in the cave too, to make sure they were safe. He said hello to Tess and Darcy, and smiled at Kalila.
‘Hullo, little feller. You got a bit of trouble, eh? Never mind, this old cave a real safe place. It look after you.’
Kalila stared at him, and suddenly smiled. She put her hand into the old man’s. Whether or not she understood what he’d said, she instinctively trusted him.
Sam went into the cave first. He pulled away the bushes hiding the hole, and climbed down the banyan root to the cave floor. George and Darcy lowered the gear to him, and then the rest of them followed. The fading rays of the late afternoon sun lit up the front of the cave near the entrance, but it was rapidly growing dimmer towards the rear. Sam switched on one of the lamps, and the cave looked a lot friendlier. They spread the swags out on the floor and put the esky and the water close by. Vincent showed Kalila the cave, pointing out the cave entrance and the sheer drop below, and how it went back, deep into the rock. She looked very scared.
‘It’s all right, Kalila. I’m going to stay here with you, and so are Darcy and Old Vincent. We’ll be fine.’ Tess smiled encouragingly at the child.
‘Right,’ said Sam. ‘We’d better get going. If we’re not back before dark, we’ll be in even more trouble. Not that I think it’s possible to get into any more trouble than we’re in already …’
Sam and George arrived back just as the sun was setting, and hurried into the house. Uncle Mungo, Jock and Jaz were in the living room. Uncle Mungo didn’t look pleased.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded.
Sam and George just stared at him. Sam’s heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to jump right out of his chest.
‘I’ve just had a very strange phone call. From the Immigration Department, who said they’ll be out first thing in the mornin’.’ He looked from one boy to the other, and then realised there were some missing faces.
‘Where’s Darcy and Tess?’
Sam took a deep breath. ‘They’re not here. They’re staying with Vincent tonight.’
‘And who the hell is Vincent?’
‘He’s an old family friend of ours, an Aboriginal man who lives –’
‘You’re tellin’ me Tess and Darcy are stayin’ with some old blackfeller!’
‘He’s Vincent Nullungarr, and he’s like a grandfather to us! Don’t you dare talk about him like that!’ Sam shouted at his uncle.
Old Jock broke in and said, ‘It’s okay, Mungo, the kids have stayed with Old Vincent before. He’s a good old bloke, known him fer years ’n’ years, we have.’
Uncle Mungo looked a bit shocked at Sam’s reaction. ‘Well, you shouldn’t do things like that without askin’, doesn’t matter who it is. I’m responsible for all of yez while yer parents are away! You should’ve asked m
e first, not just run off like that.’ Uncle Mungo frowned at Sam and George for a moment, and then remembered something else, and the frown deepened.
‘Never mind that now, though. I want to know what the blazes is goin’ on around here! These Immigration fellers said they’ll be sendin’ one of their people and some Customs officers out here first thing, and asked that I keep the child secure until they get here. He said they’d been notified by a barrister who saw you today, Sam. What child? What’s goin’ on?’ As well as looking cranky, Uncle Mungo looked totally confused.
Sam and George glanced at each other, and Sam stared back at his uncle. There was no way of getting out of this. He took a deep breath. ‘A few days ago, the day we got back from town, George and I found a kid down at Deception Point, a little girl.’
Uncle Mungo started to speak but stopped himself.
George took up the story. ‘Remember the wreck we saw at the Point, with Dad? This girl was on that boat. She came with her parents, only they got separated, and then the boat she was in sank in the big storm, and she was the only one who survived. We brought her back here and hid her in the hay shed, and then when Tess and Darcy came out, we hid her in Tess’s room, ’cause it was easier to get her to the bathroom ’n’ stuff.’
Uncle Mungo looked like someone had just told him there was a polar bear doing cartwheels in the kitchen. ‘Well – well – if ya found a little kid on the beach, fer gorsakes, why didn’t ya tell me? This is serious! You can’t go hidin’ kids around the place like that! She probably needs to see a doctor or somethin’. What about her parents, hey? They’re probably worried sick about her! Ya should’ve come straight to me!’
Sam glared at Uncle Mungo. ‘You reckon all boat people should be shot on sight! Blow their boats out of the water! That’s what you said. Why would we tell you?’
‘Wait a minute – I thought you meant – you mean she’s an illegal immigrant?’
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