Barefoot Kids

by Steve Hawke

  The minutes and hours had inched by. Jimmy and Tich were uneasy, but willing to follow Janey’s lead. But Dancer was not happy.

  It was bad enough when Andy rang in, late in the afternoon. Thankfully, he had already got the story of the bones and the shell when he’d called two nights ago, but Dancer had to tell him about the fire, Harry’s visit, and Buddy’s flight. All the time Janey was at his side, saying nothing, but giving him that look.

  Then Buster turned up with Micky and Little Joe. Dancer had never lied to Buster in his life. He didn’t exactly lie this time either, but it felt like it, holding back what he knew. And it felt terrible.

  Andy arrived not long after dark. He had borrowed a mate’s car in Derby so he could get back quicker. Thankfully for Dancer, Andy was too distracted to quiz him closely. All he wanted was to get out and join the search.

  ‘You’d better be right Janey,’ was all Dancer had been able to say when Bella called them in from the yard and told them to get some sleep.

  He’d had enough. He couldn’t go on wondering what the hell had happened to Buddy, or sitting on the story of Tich’s discovery. The next car that pulled back into the driveway, he would get up and tell them what he knew.

  Jimmy cries out again.

  What’s he dreaming about, Dancer wonders.

  Jimmy’s eyes spring open. ‘Jiir!’

  Dancer sits up. ‘What did you say?’

  Jimmy rolls towards him and sits up slowly. ‘I just had the weirdest dream.’ He shudders as he gathers the memory of it from the webs of sleep.

  ‘It was like when I got the song. Jiir came swimming down out of the sun. Me and Janey were in the tank playing guitars, and I heard him, and I looked out, and there he was, coming down. And he just got bigger and bigger and bigger. He was filling the sky. There was thunder. And then he folded his wings as he landed. Right there next to the tank where Buddy sits. He cocked his head and looked at me.

  ‘Janey was gone. It was just me and him. I said, “What?” His beak didn’t move, but he called to me. Just once, real quiet, Jiir. Like a whisper.’

  A floorboard creaks. Dancer and Jimmy whirl round to see Buddy in the doorway.

  The moon has passed its zenith and is starting to dip towards the west. The kids huddle in the bush watching Big Al.

  One side of the well housing has been demolished and pushed aside. Big Al is leaning down into the well, shining a powerful torch. He reaches in and pulls out another of the smooth rocks that line its walls. They can hear his curse as he examines it and tosses it aside.

  ‘I told you,’ Buddy whispers.

  Dancer would never have gone along with Buddy’s idea if it hadn’t been for Jimmy’s dream. Janey had sensed the disturbance and woken up. The four of them had huddled around the outside table as Buddy poured out his story in urgent whispers.

  Buddy couldn’t help being impatient with their questions and interruptions. He knew it was all too weird and unbelievable, and he knew he had to make them understand. But didn’t they get it? If they waited till the morning, the olds would be freaking out, Harry would be back, he might be in a cell — God knows. It wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t get a chance to be in on it, he pleaded. They had to go now, while they had the chance.

  Dancer tried to argue, but Janey reminded him of that feeling in her guts. ‘It was right cuz. We’ve got to run with it.’

  ‘My dream,’ Jimmy said, simply.

  Dancer groaned in resignation.

  ‘What about Tich?’ asked Jimmy.

  ‘We can’t leave her behind,’ Janey said, and went back in to get her. She also grabbed a torch, and scrawled a note that said, ‘Sorry Mimi. We’ve found Buddy. Back soon.’

  They dropped their bikes in the same place that Buddy stashed his earlier. It was just this morning, he thinks, but it feels like a week ago. Now they retrace his steps, circling through the bush to the shack, and gather around the low platform of old timbers by the tank.

  ‘Come on,’ says Buddy. ‘There’s no point standing here. Let’s do it.’

  ‘Just remember, Big Al’s not far away,’ says Janey. ‘Keep it as quiet as you can.’

  The first job is to remove the huge, heavy timbers. They are cut from weathered jetty pylons, and are set on a knee-high wall of old bricks and stones to form a low deck.

  At first the timbers seem immovable. But they manage to force a couple of crab hooks into the narrow crack between the outside timber and the next one. With Janey and Buddy putting all their weight onto the hooks, they manage to lever the timber high enough that Dancer and Jimmy, straining to their limits, are able to slide it a little way. Then the four big kids combine to push it, little by little, off the low platform and onto the ground.

  It is back-breaking, time consuming work, but finally they have toppled the last timber off to uncover a heavy metal plate. They work their fingers under the corners of the plate, Janey counts to three, and they lift it clear of the wall. But Jimmy stumbles, dropping his corner, and the plate clangs on the bricks, echoing loud after all their hours of whispers and quiet labour.

  All heads turn in the direction of Tom’s camp. Big Al must have heard! Tich kills the torch. For agonising minutes they stay poised, ready to flee, until Buddy can restrain himself no longer. He takes the torch from Tich and the pair of them peer down into the darkness of the uncovered well as he plays the beam around the walls.

  Tich draws back with a shudder. ‘It’s spooky,’ she whispers.

  ‘They’re down there,’ says Buddy. ‘They’ve got to be.’

  ‘No water,’ says Janey. ‘It must have been dry for years.’

  ‘That’s what Tom said.’

  ‘How deep d’you reckon?’ Dancer asks.

  ‘Deeper than Tom’s.’ Buddy has assumed the role of well expert. ‘But it’s hard to tell. See how it’s sort of caved in down there, about halfway down. Tich, go and grab a handline from the shack. One with a sinker on it.’

  Tich hurries back with a line, and Buddy eases it down. When the sinker hits bottom Buddy ties a loop at ground level, and draws the line up. Janey handspans its length, and reckons it comes out at four and a half metres.

  They look at each other. The unspoken question is, what can they possibly do now?

  ‘If Old Jirroo hid the diamonds — or anything else — down there,’ Buddy says, ‘they’re either at the bottom, or he’s dug out a bit of the wall and slid them in. There’s only one way to do it, you’ve got to lower me down.’

  Dancer comes up with the solution. He unties the old hammock on the verandah. He lashes the ends of the hammock together and attaches a longer rope. He throws the long end of rope over a verandah beam, and pulls it until the hammock is dangling free of the ground, then ties the rope to a post.

  Buddy settles into this seat, and though the material is old, it seems to hold firm. ‘You’re a genius bro,’ he grins at Dancer.

  They manoeuvre one of the timbers so that it is propped up by the wall, and leans out almost over the well. They tie the loose end of the rope to this, double and triple checking the knots.

  The tension is almost unbearable as Buddy stands by the edge of the well, organising himself into the hammock seat.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he says.

  Dancer braces himself against the timber, loose coils of rope in hand, as Buddy wriggles over the edge, feet first. Tich gasps as a clod of dirt from the lip of the well breaks free and bounces down the shaft. Dancer is waiting to take the weight, but the well shaft is so narrow that Buddy is able to support himself, back pressed against one side and feet against the other.

  Buddy edges his way down a foot at a time, playing the torch around the walls of the well, then edging sideways around its circle to inspect behind him.

  Dancer stays poised with the rope, but Janey, Jimmy and Tich crowd around the hole, peering down at the ever-moving beam of light and the glimpses of Buddy.

  The well is not properly lined like Tom’s, and each time Buddy pushes
with his feet, or arches his back to edge further down, a small shower of crumbly dirt is set off. But he is too intent on his search to be put off by this.

  About two metres down, his feet hit the protruding rock. He pushes gently against it, then harder, and again. It seems to be firmly wedged. Twisting and craning in the confined space, he shines the torch down beyond the rock. He can see the bottom, about a man’s height below.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Janey calls softly from above.

  ‘Just hang on,’ he calls back. It is too difficult to try to explain.

  He works his feet down past the rock and tries to straighten his body to ease past. It’s no good. He edges back up and turns himself around. This time he puts the torch in his mouth and braces himself with a hand against either side of the shaft, and tries to slide down with his stomach facing the rock.

  His hands give way, and he drops. Dancer’s heart misses a beat as he grabs at the moving rope. Tich just manages to suppress a scream.

  But Buddy has only fallen a couple of feet.

  His legs are dangling, but his hips are caught. If it weren’t for the padding of the hammock, he would have torn the skin off his thighs. He wriggles this way and that, trying to find an angle that will work. It is so close, but he just cannot squeeze through.

  Breathing hard, he probes at the wall opposite the rock. But the shaft has been sunk through a narrow band of sandstone. There is no way he is going to get past.

  ‘Shit, shit shit!’

  His cries of frustration echo up the well.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Dancer calls.

  ‘Yes! I’m okay. Shut up will you.’

  Buddy is battling against tears as he works his way back up the shaft. When his head reaches the surface he throws the torch, and hauls himself up onto the ground. Almost exploding with frustration, he explains what happened. ‘I just can’t do it,’ he ends, in a bitter, defeated tone.

  Jimmy and Janey start cranking ideas. What if a couple of them wait here and the others ride back for the grown-ups? They could bring tools and stuff.

  ‘Stand still Buddy,’ says Tich.

  She puts her hands against his hips, measuring, and then against her own. ‘Maybe I can get through.’

  ‘No way!’ Jimmy exclaims. ‘You’re not going down there.’

  ‘We can’t stop now Jimmy. Look how close we are. And look,’ she points to the east, where there is the first glimmer of red. ‘It’s nearly tomorrow already. We’ve got to do it before the police get Buddy.’

  There is a meeting of eyes around the circle of five, and an unspoken agreement.

  Buddy takes Tich over to the well, shines the torch down, and starts giving her intricate instructions on how to get down and the best way to try to squeeze through the narrow part.

  ‘Shut up Buddy. I’m not wriggling down like a crab like you did. Dancer’s going to let me down. And I’m better than you at hide and seek. If the hole’s big enough, I’ll get through.’

  Tich gets into the hammock seat and Jimmy and Janey lower her gently into the hole until the rope is taut in Dancer’s hands.

  ‘Give me a hand will you Buddy,’ Dancer growls.

  The two of them share the weight, and begin to lower away.

  Tich is nowhere near as assured as she sounded when she told Buddy to shut up. In fact, as the moonlight disappears and she bumps down the shaft, she is absolutely terrified. She feels her toes hit the rock. ‘Stop now,’ she calls up.

  ‘You okay?’ Jimmy asks anxiously.

  ‘I’m okay. I’m going to try to get through now.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ says Dancer. He loops the rope over the log and braces his feet against the wall. He figures it will be easier to catch Tich’s full weight this way if she slips. He nods at Jimmy, who calls down to her to go ahead now.

  She gathers the hammock tightly around her so that there are no bulges, eases one foot off the rock, then the other, and starts to work her way down. There is no room to spare, but she slips through the band of rock first time.

  ‘She’s through,’ Jimmy murmurs. He and Janey have their heads down the well.

  Dancer and Buddy exchange a grin. They lean back on the rope as it goes taut, letting it out over the log slowly.

  All four of them gasp as a muffled screech comes up the shaft, but it is quickly followed by, ‘It’s okay. Just a beetle. I think.’

  Then, ‘Stop! No further!’

  They can hear scrabbling noises for a minute that seems to last forever, then, ‘Pull me up!’

  ‘What Tich? Have you got something?’ Buddy is hopping from foot to foot.

  ‘Just pull me up!’ They can hear the edge in her voice.

  Jimmy helps Dancer this time, hauling on the rope, hand over hand.

  ‘Wait! Give me some slack now, I’ve got to get past the rock.’

  ‘I can see her,’ says Janey.

  ‘I think she’s got something.’ Buddy’s voice is cracking with tension.

  ‘Pull again,’ Tich calls.

  Dancer and Jimmy reel her in. Buddy and Janey lean into the well and pull her the last couple of feet.

  She reaches the ground with the hammock tightly wrapped around her. She steps free of it with a face-splitting grin — and a tin clutched tightly to her chest!

  Even Buddy is thunderstruck, still and silent at last. Nobody can speak. Tich hands the tin to Janey.

  The sun has just risen and they can see each other properly. They are filthy from their night’s work. But really they only have eyes for the tin.

  They move over to the verandah and sit in a circle. Janey puts the tin on the ground in front of her and they hear the rattle of its contents. It is an old-style Arnott’s round biscuit tin, a little rusty, but surprisingly sound.

  ‘Go on Janey,’ Buddy urges.

  She tries the lid, but it won’t budge.

  Dancer springs up and dashes into the shack. He comes back with a screwdriver from the fishing kit and a small blue tarp. He spreads out the tarp in front of them and hands Janey the screwdriver.

  She has to put the tin on its side and lever away at the lid. She is as careful as possible, but suddenly it gives and the contents of the tin spill out onto the tarp.

  The mound of diamonds glints and sparkles in the early morning sun slanting in from the east.

  30

  IT WAS A strange breakfast time in the backyard at the Jirroos.

  The centrepiece of the table was the Assorted Creams tin, full of hundreds of diamonds. Everyone except Bella kept returning to it. Just to stare. To run their fingers through them. To pick one up for a close examination, holding it up to the light. Or to pick up a handful and feel the weight, and listen to the chinking as they fell back into the tin.

  The kids were ravenous after their night’s labour, and gobbled down dish after dish in between the stories and speculation that bounced around the yard. They were all weary too, but the buzz of it all was still way too strong for any of them to succumb to sleep.

  They had not stayed long at the shack to gloat over their achievement. This was something that had to be shared. They scooped the diamonds back into the tin and, after making sure that Big Al’s car had gone, they collected their bikes and set off for home.

  They were so busy chattering amongst themselves that they hardly noticed the approaching car until it was almost upon them. Eddie skidded to a halt and he and Andy got out with murderous looks on their faces. But before they could vent their fury, the kids were all over them. Buddy leapt into Andy’s arms shouting, ‘We got the diamonds!’

  From then on it had been a mad round of explanations and exclamations, as everyone was brought up to date in fits and starts. Buddy and Tich were the heroes of the hour. Tich for her original inspiration in working out the design, and for her journey down the well. Buddy for tracking down Teoh Tom and leading the chase.

  Mary shuddered each time Tich told the story of her journey down the well, and wanted to know from Jimmy what on earth had p
ossessed him, letting his little sister go and do something as hare-brained and dangerous as that. Yet she was as full of smiles and praise as everyone else.

  Buster pointed out at one stage, with a smile on his face, that he could have told them about the well if they had only let him in on the story.

  Everyone went quiet when Buddy described his encounter with Teoh Tom. They were agog at the revelation that Big Al’s father had killed Old Jirroo. Everyone, that is, except Buster, who nodded as if another piece of the jigsaw in his mind had fallen into place.

  Micky was puzzled by the talk of Steer also killing Tom’s brother. He and Buster could only dimly remember Tom’s older brother. Then it clicked. The old grave up at Garnet Bay, near the plane; the old-timers said it was a Filipino buried there. ‘Remember,’ said Buster, ‘they’d never tell us kids about it.’

  Bella just wanted to know when Tom was coming in to see her and Buster. She couldn’t stand hearing all these fragments and snippets of the story. She looked at the tin of diamonds with a strange mixture of fear and contempt. ‘They were the death of my father, those bloody things. I wish they’d never left Indonesia.’

  Janey gave her a hug. But apart from Buster, who remained as calm and unflappable as ever, everyone else was infected by the excitement of it, and the possibilities that the tin seemed to represent.

  ‘How much do you reckon they could be worth?’ Buddy asked. No-one answered him. With all the questions still hovering in the air, and Bella’s words echoing, no-one really wanted to go down that road just yet.

  The spell of the diamonds was not broken until a girl’s voice was heard, hesitantly calling for Janey from out the front. Janey’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘It’s Sal. We were supposed to meet them at the airport.’

  Her eyes, and everyone else’s, went to the diamonds. Buster stepped forward, put a finger to his lips, then put the lid on the tin and quietly disappeared with it in the direction of Bella and Micky’s place.

  It is a confused and rather awkward round of introductions. Janey is flustered, embarrassed at having forgotten the Pearsons and unsure what she should and should not say. She tells a confused story about everyone losing track of time because Buddy has been lost all night, and only just turned up.