Wisps of Cloud

by Ross Richdale

  During the afternoon, Chrissy who was in the senior school and hence in Gillian's syndicate, had the last two hours in her room to prepare work, sort out children's files, arrange desks and so forth ready for her new class the next day She was engrossed on her computer when she heard a cough and glanced up.

  Sherrie Narwood stood there carrying a bunch of flowers. She looked hesitant and Chrissy herself felt the same.

  "A peace offering," the principal's wife whispered and handed her the flowers.

  "Why thank you," Chrissy replied. "But what have I done to deserve these."

  "You know and so do I," Sherrie replied. "The attack on Murray was no random act and it didn't take too much effort to find out about that particular motorbike gang. They came from Masterton where you spent a week visiting Karla Spicer."

  Chrissy gulped. "I never expected…"

  "Don't be. It's probably the best thing that happened to him." She glanced at the floor. "I also heard about your visit to Masterton hospital."

  "What?" Chrissy gasped.

  "Small town and I have friends there. Murray's was it?"

  Chrissy flushed but nodded. "He drugged and raped me, Sherrie. I couldn't bare the stress of a trial if I went to the police and Karla said she would help. I don't think even she expected Murray to receive such a brutal bashing." She looked up. "He deserved it, though. I also did some research and found out that he did it a few years back with one of the staff."

  "And with me," Sherrie whispered. "Twenty years ago he did exactly the same thing with me. He was the principal of a tiny two-teacher school and I was his junior assistant. It ended differently, though. I practically forced him to leave his first wife and two years later we were married. By then, Lisa my eldest was a year old and I was pregnant again. Oh I love my three children and Murray and myself have had quite a good marriage, that is because I've turned a blind eye to his extramarital affairs and deviant behaviour with mainly assistant teachers."

  "I'm sorry, Sherrie, I didn't know."

  "Of course you didn't. Some were affairs with women who were quite willing to participate while others were like you. I know of two but suspected others. Also, as far as I know you were the first who was actually impregnated by him." She shrugged. "The shame of this situation makes most girls just keep quiet or blame themselves and, until now he just got away with it."

  "And you've put up with this for twenty years?"

  "Yes. My youngest is thirteen now and I have almost walked away several times." She grimaced. "Just perhaps this beating will make him see that he just can't continue. That and being sixty next year. Perhaps men do mellow with age. Anyway, the flowers are my way of apologising to you about my husband's behaviour and to offer my explanation. If it helps even just a little, my visit has been worthwhile."

  Chrissy smiled, gave Sherrie a brief hug before she stood back. "Thank you, but can we keep everything confidential? Nobody except Karla knows what happened and I'd like to keep it that way."

  "I have spoken to nobody. Well, I finally had it out with Murray and told him I knew about you, he deserved the beating and if he strayed again I would be leaving him. I think he got the message." She grimaced and didn't look as confident as her words sounded.

  "And how is Murray?"

  "Bit cut up, black eye but mainly hurt pride. The car is in the panel beaters and he'll be back at work next week."

  After Sherrie left, Chrissy phoned Karla on her mobile. "Oh hi, Karla, Chrissy here. You will never guess who arrived today to bring me a bunch of flowers and what else I found out?"

  *

  Like at Tui Park, Top Plateau School had the first day of the new term, pupil free. By lunchtime, Karla had done nearly everything and glanced around the new classroom. The building was functional inside but the playground still needed fixing with the new courts yet to be sealed and several dirt covered drains cut across the grassed area.

  As she had been told, two Riversdale families and five children were added to the roll so she would begin with seventeen. As well, two five-year-olds would be coming later in the year. The roll was quite healthy.

  *

  School started a little late on Tuesday morning. By the time the new parents and children were met and other parents came in to take a grand tour of the new school block and chat to each other, it was nine thirty before the adults left and she rang the bell.

  Karla smiled at the seventeen children sitting on the carpet or on beanbags listening to every word she said. The three new boys and two girls, who ranged in age from five to ten, were all quiet but appeared to mix in well with the other children. Lorena attached herself to Jessica a ten-year-old girl while Jason didn't seem to mind being the only senior boy in the school.

  "So that's it for now," she concluded. "We'll get your exercise books sorted by tomorrow but today I want you all to start your booklet about the theme for this week, 'Fun in the Sun' for the juniors or one of those choices I listed on the whiteboard for you seniors."

  She had listed several topics that she knew Jason and Lorena would like and a couple of general ones that should suit the new pupils. Unexpectedly, Jason picked the topic designed for Lorena, rather than the fictional topic about being a detective that she had designed for him.

  He grinned at her and began the topic, 'Our New School. How we can make it even better.'

  "Can I go out and take some photos on the iPad for my theme, Karla?" he asked.

  She smiled at him. "You know the rules, Jason."

  He chuckled. "Yes. I need to write my draft copy before finding pictures or taking photos for the published version."

  As she walked away she grinned when she heard him talking to one of the new boys.

  "She's a great teacher, Sean but don't try to cross her. If she tells you not do something, you don't. Okay?"

  She never heard the nine-year-old's reply but turned to see him staring at her in awe as if he thought that if his gigantic classmate did what he was told, he'd better do the same.

  The new school year had begun.

  *

  CHAPTER 13

  One of the big seasonal jobs on Top Plateau Station was over as hundreds of newly shorn sheep were returned to the higher hills and the shearing gang that had been with them for several days, moved on. Ryan quite enjoyed helping in the woolshed and even took a turn at shearing himself. Though slower than the professionals, he still retained the skill he had learned as a teenager but after a couple of hours was glad to return to the more mundane duties in the shed.

  It was mid-afternoon and Clive and himself were following the top ridge to inspect the boundary fence. It only took a small slip or broken wire to leave a gap. Sheep would get through and disappear into the bush land beyond. Ryan grinned as he thought about the three sheep they had recovered earlier from the reserve. They had missed the previous shear and had massive matted coats of wool and the shearers cursed having to take twice the usual time to remove the fleeces.

  After an hour spent tightening wires in one stretch of fence, they decided to inspect one last section before having a break or smoko time as Clive still called it. Gone were the days when practically every farmer and farm worker would sit down before a small fire and roll their own cigarettes while the billy, a large tin, boiled up water to make the tea that was drunk in gigantic mugs either black or with raw milk from the morning's house cow and scoop of sugar. Now Ryan preferred instant coffee while Clive had a tea bag that he added to his thermos mug of hot water. The biscuits that they dunked in the hot drinks were the traditional ones but now came in supermarket plastic wrapping.

  "Not like the old days," Clive said as he placed a handful of dog pellets out for Flossie, the sheep dog to eat. "I remember when…" He gazed out of the far valley and spun a story about something that had happened forty years earlier. "The years just roll by, Ryan. When you're just a lad you think you are immortal but suddenly you have kids and grandkids, you can't sling a fence post over your shoulder any longer and your knees ac
he after a few hours." He grinned. "I still like it out here away from all those do-gooders who moan about and oppose everything. Why only yesterday I heard…"

  Ryan grinned as Clive moaned on about protestors outside The Beehive, New Zealand's parliament building in Wellington.

  "Make the buggers spend a couple of days in the woolshed rather than the tattoo parlour or smoking pot." Clive stopped and stared down the far valley. "Talking of pot, I wonder how that marijuana plantation is getting on. Must be close to harvesting time."

  Ryan frowned. "And who are they? Big Red reckoned it wasn't any of the local gangs growing marijuana there. Who else could it be?"

  "Gangs from Wellington, criminals or even businessmen trying to make a quick buck," Clive shrugged. "Half of them are little more than criminals anyway."

  "True," Ryan sighed and turned the conversation to farm matters.

  *

  They had just begun working on the fence again when he heard a distant engine sound. A helicopter rose out of the valley below.

  "It's the Eurocopter Squirrel. It's them!" Clive muttered. "I'm not surprised. With this year's hot summer they'll have a huge marijuana crop and are probably harvesting it now." He glanced at Ryan. "Let's go and have a look?"

  He looked keen and Ryan was interested in finding out more, too. "Okay, but we need to be careful."

  "Of course," Clive replied. "Flossie will warn us if anyone is still around. Won't you, Girl?"

  The dog stood on all fours and wagged her tail as she stared at Clive with intelligent eyes.

  Twenty minutes later they were in thick bush east of the cabin where the helicopter had flown out. Clive's estimated that this was where the main crop was situated.

  "Smell it?" Clive said.

  They pushed through the undergrowth on a track that Ryan could barely make out beneath the trees. Without Clive and Flossie he would be hopelessly lost. He stopped and sniffed. There was a sweet smell different from the usual bush one of soil and leaves.

  "Not far now," Clive continued and patted the dog. "Is anyone around, Flossie?"

  The sheep dog stopped and stood still with her nose in the air. She walked several metres forward with her nose to the ground before returning. She sat down, looked up at her master and wagged her tail.

  "Nobody is here now," Clive said. "But they've been here. Flossie can smell their footprints." He patted her head. "Show us where they were, Girl but don't get us lost. Okay!"

  "Woof!" Flossie retraced her original steps and shot off to the left. There was no real undergrowth but above, the massive trees cut out the sunlight and the ground was damp. Ryan couldn't smell that sweet tang now but the aroma of damp earth and of the trees themselves was quite strong and could have hidden any other smells. Flossie ran to the left, changed direction to run the opposite way and waited for them to catch up. Afterwards, she headed uphill, along and back down again.

  "So the druggies took a zigzag route in?" Ryan asked.

  "Yeah. It's pretty remote territory here but you still get trampers or hunters through. They'd tend to stick to the valley. I guess the druggies don't want to leave any trace of where they've been."

  "But Flossie's not fooled?"

  Clive grinned and patted his dog again. "No. Taken her hunting with me and will also use her in duck shooting season next month. Last year she even swam out in a lake to recover a duck I shot down." He grimaced. "Should have brought the shotgun with us today."

  Flossie led them up a small ridge and down the opposite side. They were in another broad valley that ran parallel to the one they'd left. The trees thinned and finally stopped. Ahead was a flat oval field at least a hundred metres long and half as wide, filled with gigantic spiky plants with white almost fluffy looking flowers, or perhaps they were seed pods at the top,

  "Marijuana!" Ryan said.

  "Quite a crop!" Clive whispered. "We've never been to this place before. Without Flossie we could have walked right past on the other side of that tiny ridge and never guessed it was here."

  They walked closer. The plants were well looked after and enclosed within square shaped netting nailed to two metre high posts that were set ten metres apart. Along one side was a narrow well-worn track that led to a wooden gate that provided access to the plantation itself.

  "Very sophisticated," Clive said. "Just about ready for harvesting, I'd say."

  Ryan nodded. "So we report it this time, Clive," he said. "This proves what we originally thought. This is not some local guys growing a bit for Saturday parties." He gazed at the plants though the netting. They were swaying almost as tall as himself in a gentle breeze. The whole scene sent a sinister feeling through his body. Having this massive crop so close to Top Plateau Station both annoyed and at the same time frightened him. "Come on, let's go!" he said.

  Clive frowned but seemed reluctant to leave. "Perhaps…" he muttered. "No, you're right. We need to report this as soon as we can." He turned to Flossie. "Find us the best way home, Girl!"

  The dog gave a yelp as if she was glad to leave and bounded directly up the slope to the right. Ryan followed and found the steep section quite a climb. Within a few moments he was ten metres ahead of Clive who had stopped to get his breath.

  "Flossie, Wait," Ryan called.

  The dog stopped and sat down. Ryan turned and was about to walk back to offer a hand to Clive when he heard a twanging sound. This was followed by a swish!

  Something hit him in the right leg!

  He staggered as his leg collapsed and pain shot up his body. The foliage around him blurred as he dropped, crashed into a tree trunk and screamed in sheer agony. Something was terribly wrong with his leg but what was it!

  He blinked back tears as he pushed away ferns that brushed against his body and attempted to move his leg. Agonising pain shot up it and he could feel rather than see blood seeping through the bottom of his shorts. His view became blurry and he found it hard to stay conscious.

  "Ryan!"

  He heard his friend's call as if it was a hundred kilometres away and saw a concerned a face staring at him through a spinning mist.

  "Bastards!" Clive growled. "Don't move, Ryan. Just keep still!"

  "What is it?" Ryan gasped as Clive squatted beside him and wrapped his jacket around his throbbing leg. "Have I been shot?"

  "No, The bastards must have rigged up a crossbow. You have a steel arrow embedded in your upper leg. Reckon it's gone right through but I don't want to shift you."

  Ryan found his senses returning a little. The spinning had stopped but his whole leg was now numb. He raised his head and glanced down. He immediately wished he hadn't for he felt ill at the sight. Just above his knee, a thirty-centimetre shaft stuck out of his upper leg. Worse though, was the blood that was pulsing out, pouring down his leg and onto the ground.

  Clive tied a strip of cloth that was probably part of his shirt around his upper leg, made a knot that included a stick and tightened it. Pain shot through Ryan's body and he again almost collapsed in the pain.

  "Sorry Ryan," Clive gasped. "Even though I'm not even going to try to pull the arrow out, I need to apply a tourniquet. You're loosing too much blood."

  "Do what you can," Ryan managed to gasp the words. His last recollection was seeing Flossie beside him and a sloppy tongue licking his face. He reached out. "It's okay Girl," he almost sobbed. "I'm fine!"

  The trouble was that he wasn't!

  *

  Karla glanced at her watch. It was almost five and she had just finished filling in a pile of documents on the computer. She loved teaching but found the administration work involved in being a principal quite irksome. Some of the Ministry returns seemed to be just pure bureaucracy and she doubted if they were even read. However, they had to be done by the end of February and the last was finally completed. Jennifer, the cleaner had finished and gone as had Sharon who had taken the class for the afternoon as part of her own release time.

  She gathered her bits and pieces and was about to lock the fr
ont door when her mobile chirped. She frowned when Clive's name appeared.

  "Hello Clive, Karla speaking. This is an unusual time to hear from you."

  "Don't be alarmed but there's been a bit of an accident"

  His tone sent a shiver up her back. "What is it Clive?" She whispered and listened with her heart racing as he told her about Ryan. When he mentioned a tourniquet she found herself shaking. "Where is he now?" she almost shouted.

  "Still there with Flossie guarding him. I'm at the back of the farm. Had to climb up here to get in cellphone range. I've called the emergency number and a helicopter is coming. Have to leave you and get back to him so will lose the signal again."

  "I'm coming up!" Karla cried.

  "There's nothing more you can do."

  "I'm coming!" She shouted. "Tell me where!"

  "Okay, then bring your medical kit. We need more bandages, disinfectant and painkillers. When I left him a quarter an hour ago he was barely unconscious so I need to get back. You know that top paddock that you can reach on the quad bike?"

  "Yes!"

  "You'll see the tractor there. When you arrive just wait. Don't try to go into the bush. You'll get lost. If I can persuade Flossie to meet you she will lead you back. I repeat, though. Don't try to find us by yourself. Okay?"

  "Yes," Karla gasped.

  As usual, she had no transport at school so she grabbed the school's first-aid box, tore home though the paddocks, arrived gasping for breath and heaved in satisfaction when the quad bike roared to life. She grabbed her helmet that was dangling from the bike's handlebars and roared out the back drive. As she accelerated up though the paddocks she called Clive's number to tell his wife the news but found the mobile was already out of range.

  "Damn," she muttered and concentrated on her driving.