Ricky

by Sheila Hunter

  Ricky's room was on the ground floor of a lodging house, it wasn't much and it cost little, but for the first time he was able to claim that some place was a home. He now could look forward to having a warmer winter when that came, for he was also able to buy some thick blankets at Ma Farrell's second-hand shop. He had a bunk bed and a rickety table, and a few pieces of cutlery and a plate and a cup. As yet nothing but the bunk to sit on, but he would look round at his castle and think it was great. He wondered what had happened to all the household goods that came out on the ship with them. His mother put them in store but by now he thought they would have been sold as unclaimed goods. He decided not to dwell on this, but concentrate on thinking out how he could make the most of what he had and how to set about creating a life for himself that was what he would have had, had his parents lived. For by now he was feeling quite sure that his father must be dead. He had, at first, thought that something had taken his father away and would someday come back, but he had come to terms with the thought that he would never see him again.

  Wherever Ricky went he took note of everything that happened, the things that he passed as he walked the streets, he took note of the people he saw. He watched when the soldiers marched past, the convicts in the chain gangs, the smart people in their carriages. He watched from afar the children in the parks with their nannies, he watched the ladies strolling down the streets, in the stores, in the parks. He noted what the men wore, how they behaved, with the ladies, and when they were with their cronies, as well as when they spoke to the servant class. He watched everything and everyone. Sometimes he would walk out to the suburbs which he labelled posh. To Elizabeth Bay and a few times out as far as Vaucluse. There he would wander looking through the gates that kept the population out of these wonderful places. There was never an envious thought in Ricky's mind, but he knew that someday he would have a nice home, not a grand one like those, but a nice home and a nice family, just like Papa wanted for him and his mother.

  It was on the way home from one of these jaunts that he noticed something that he stunned him. He came across Hack, one of the large louts who was part of the diversion at the bank hold-up. Hack had a dray with a seedy looking horse to pull it and had been picking up rubbish from one of the houses. Ricky knew that Hack was an evil person and he usually kept his distance. As Ricky was on his way home and Hack seemed to be going the same way, he followed him. Hack seemed to be in a hurry and was forever casting furtive glances around as though he was doing something wrong and did not want to be seen. The huge man was sitting hunched up on the dray seat and Ricky chuckled to himself and thought, "Whatever he is doing why doesn't the silly fellow sit up and look as though everything is all right. He looks guilty and so he obviously is guilty of something."

  Ricky kept out of sight as best he could and didn't think Hack had seen him. The big man's movements were so slow that the lad had plenty of time to duck into a doorway while the man was peering about him at intervals. The dray went down towards the docks to the shed where Hack lived. As he pulled up Ricky dived for cover and saw Hack lift something out of the back of the dray that looked like a big rag doll.

  "What on earth is he doing?" Ricky asked himself. Then came a flash of understanding, the doll was a girl, yes, a little girl and that rotten Hack was taking her into the shed. Hack came back and took the dray and horse to the back of the shed where he unharnessed and let the horse go in the tiny yard, he tipped the dray up and emptied it of the stuff he had collected, and then returned to the shed. Ricky crept as close as he could and listened at the shutter. He could hear the man muttering to himself and then in a louder voice mention something about getting grog. Ricky shot away and hid.

  Sure enough Hack came out shutting the shed door behind him. Again looking furtively round he set off towards the pub. As soon as he was out of sight Ricky raced to the shed door and tried to open it. It was wired tight, and it took some doing but eventually Ricky managed to open the door. He could hear the little girl whimpering by now and he found her lying in some filthy straw that was obviously Hack's bed. She looked about eight years old and was dressed in a blue floral dress which was now filthy from the dirt she had collected from the dray. She recoiled when she saw Ricky, but he tried to reassure her and quieten her. She wasn't very co-operative, he thought. She only wanted to cringe away from him.

  "Come on. Are you all right?" he asked.

  "Go away. Where am I? What do you want with me? I want to go home."

  "Come on," Ricky said again. "Are you all right? Come on, we've got to get out again before Hack comes back. Come on, give me your hand."

  The child only cried and tried to get further away from the strange boy.

  Ricky realised that she thought he was responsible for her kidnapping and said, "Look you were taken away by someone called Hack, and I saw him bring you here. He has gone for grog and if you don't come quick he'll be back. Come on I'll help you but we must run."

  He held out his hand and reluctantly she took it and he helped her to her feet. She was very wobbly and sat down again.

  Ricky said, "I know you feel awful, but you've got to come. Hack'll kill us if he finds us here."

  "I want to go home, I want Binksie."

  Ricky picked her up and ran. She was a heavy weight for him but he staggered out of the shed and turned down towards the docks away from where Hack had gone. At first she struggled and then apparently decided that this boy was about to help her and she stayed quiet. When Ricky thought they were safe for a while he put the child down and straightened his back, panting heavily.

  "Come on, you can sit down here for a while until you feel better. When you can walk a bit I'll try to get you home. I'm sorry I had to lump you about but I had to get you out." He looked along the road. "Even now, I don't really think we are safe, so as soon as you can we must go."

  He took the reluctant girl by the hand and led her along gently until she stopped trembling. They climbed the hill towards the town, Ricky hoping to see one of his cabbie friends. He knew they would take him on trust and help him deliver the little girl to her home. He talked gently to her, telling her his name, and asked for hers. She told him it was Amabel Landon and that she lived with Mama and Papa and Binksie at Elizabeth Bay. As soon as he thought she could he tried to get her to run, for it was getting dark and he had an idea that her folk would be panic stricken by now. Besides he wanted to find a cab before it got to their busy time taking folk to the theaters.

  As soon as they turned into George Street Ricky saw a cab. He said, "Quick, run," and pulled her by the hand. He was almost dragging her and she cried out.

  Two army officers were walking towards them and Ricky dodged. Amabel cried out again and as they flew past one of the officers let fly with his stick and hit Ricky over the head. He went down like a stone. Amabel fell down by his side, weeping. Blood was pouring from a wound on Ricky's head and she dabbed it with a part of her dress.

  The younger officer asked, "Was that necessary, Bob?"

  The other man looked down and said, "Miss Amabel, what are you doing here?"

  "Mr Saunders, what have you done? You've killed Ricky."

  "What are you doing here?" he asked again.

  "I was taken away and Ricky found me. He was going to take me home. What have you done?" she repeated, "Look at him, he's bleeding."

  "I am sorry Miss Amabel, I thought he was hurting you. I don't know why you are here at this time of night." The officer looked around and saw the cab that the boy had been heading for and beckoned him.

  The younger officer had knelt down and was tying his handkerchief round the boy's head. " Shall we put him in the cab and take him with us?"

  "Yes, do," said Amabel, "I'll take him home and Binksie can look after him." She watched as Ricky was put on the seat of the cab and clambered in.

  The two officers got in too but Amabel objected. "I'll take him home, thank you, you needn't come."

  The second officer smiled and said, "Thank you,
little lady, but I'm coming too. I wouldn't miss this for the world. You'd better come too, Bob, for you were the one who did the damage."

  Captain Saunders got in the cab sheepishly and said, "Mr Langdon's home in Elizabeth Bay, Cabbie."

  CHAPTER 3 The Landons and Tad

  As the cab turned in at the Landon's gate Ricky roused a little and tried to sit up. The younger officer, who by now Amabel knew as Lieutenant Hinds, held him, supporting his very sore head. Amabel had explained in detail to the two men, how her adventure began. She was feeling very annoyed with Captain Saunders whom she knew as a frequent visitor to her home. She had never met Lieutenant Hinds before as he was a newcomer to the colony.

  As the cab drew up Saunders ran to the door which was opened by the Landon's butler. The butler gave a quick exclamation when he saw the little girl he gasped, "Miss Amabel!"

  There was a quick movement from inside the house and a frantic man came to the door. "Amabel, where have you been? What has happened? Did you find her Saunders?"

  A woman pushed past him and clutched at the girl, "Amabel, we have been so worried, what happened?" She then saw her dirty state and held her away from her silken dress. " Child, you are so filthy. What has happened?"

  The little girl stood imperiously before her parents, hands on her hips, "I'm all right Mama, but please Papa, let Ricky come in. He's hurt. Mr Saunders did it. Please let Lieutenant Hinds bring him in."

  The Lieutenant was standing in the doorway holding the very wobbly Ricky close to him, just then Ricky broke from his grasp and staggered to the garden where he threw up as delicately as he could. He stood swaying and Hinds went to him and guided him indoors.

  "I think he should lie down, sir. I must tell you it is owing to this boy that Miss Amabel has been returned to you. I do think he needs attention, Bob here, gave him quite a crack."

  Captain Saunders, still looked rather sheepish, but drew himself up and introduced the younger man, and added that he only did what he thought was best.

  Mr Landon, turned to his wife and said, " Sadie, dear, I think you should take Amabel to Miss Binks and I will hear the full story later. Off you go."

  "No Papa," said Amabel, "no, it's my story and they might not tell it right. I'll tell you what happened and then I'll go."

  "All right, child, let us all go into the sitting room and hear all about it. I am sure the gentlemen would like some refreshment, anyway. But what will we do with the lad?" He led the way into a large salon then turned to the butler. "Tonkin," he called.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Take this lad ... what's his name Amabel?"

  "Ricky, Papa," she answered.

  "Tonkin, take Ricky to Mrs Tonkin and see what she can do for him. Tell her to fix up his head and do whatever has to be done. Look after him well." Turning to the men he said, "Now tell me what you'll drink and we'll have this story."

  Amabel told her story admitting to her parents that she had run away from her governess and was caught by the man as soon as she went out of the gate.

  "Amabel," her mother said, "I have always told you that your high spirits will get you into trouble and look where they have led you now."

  "Yes, Mama," Amabel said meekly.

  "Well, get on with the story, child," her father urged.

  So Amabel told the rest of her adventures finishing by pointing her finger at Captain Saunders and accusing him of being cruel.

  The Captain was moved to defend himself by saying, "But, Miss Amabel, if he had been forcing you to go with him and I hadn't stopped him, where would I have been then? I really don't wish the boy harm, but you see these street urchins are not really the class for you to be running with."

  Amabel was about to object but her father interjected saying, "All right, all right," and then sent her to her governess assuring himself first that she was all right.

  Soon the officers took their leave and Mr Landon sat wondering about it all. Wondering whether he should get on to the track of the man Hack, for he felt reluctant to involve his little daughter. He sighed and rang for Tonkin.

  "Send a message to the police, Tonkin, to tell them that Miss Amabel is safe, " he said, "and ask one of the constables to call to see me."

  "Yes, sir," the butler said, "and may I be bold to say sir, how glad we are that Miss Amabel is safe and sound, sir."

  "Thank you, Tonkin. How is that lad? Fixed up all right? How bad is his head?"

  "He has a nasty gash, sir, but he is much better. With your permission, sir, we will keep him for the night and send him off in the morning. A likely lad, he is, sir."

  "Is he? Well, make sure I see him in the morning before he leaves. I have a lot to thank him for. In any case I presume a constable will want to see him."

  When Ricky appeared before the man the next morning he was looking pale but quite steady. He had a nasty gash on his left temple that would probably leave a scar when it healed.

  "Well, young fellow," Mr Landon said, "I believe I have a lot to thank you for. How do you feel?"

  "Much better thank you, sir." Ricky said. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

  At Ricky's words that man's eyes opened. He hadn't expected to hear good English from the lad. He was so surprised he forgot to ask him more about the rescue, for a moment. "Where do you come from, lad?' he asked, intrigued.

  "I live down near the Haymarket, sir."

  "No, I don't mean where do you live. Where did you learn to speak so well and where did you come from?"

  So quietly Ricky told the story of his coming to the colony and his father's disappearance and his mother's death. He made light of his problems, not mentioning the cruelty of the Curtins who had taken his possessions.

  "I am sorry you have had such bad luck, Ricky. I would like to help you."

  "Thank you sir, but I manage very well."

  "But how do you live? And where?"

  Ricky told him of Mr Hughes and how he made money enough to keep himself by running messages and being useful to anyone who would let him. He told him a little of his ambitions to have his own business one day.

  "Well, I can help you lad. In fact I can offer you a position in my business. Would you like that?"

  "Thank you sir. But I have my own plans, and I can manage very well."

  "A bit stubborn, eh, lad?" The man chuckled.

  "No sir, only my Mam told me never to accept the easy way of life. I was to work hard and make my own way," Ricky said determinedly, trying not to think of accepting.

  "But, lad, I am sure your mother would want you to accept a job if it was offered. Think it over."

  "Thank you, sir, I will think it over, but I do not think I will accept. But may I ask, sir, what the job would be?"

  "Oh, I could find something for you in my warehouse, I am sure."

  "So, there really isn't a job, sir, you would only make one for me?"

  "Yes. But lad, think, I owe you something for restoring my daughter. I am very grateful to you."

  "No sir, anyone would have done it. She is so little and was so helpless."

  "Hm, I know. We are very fortunate to get her back whole. Now tell me where this man is who took her. I want to report him to the authorities."

  "If I tell you, sir, would you tell them about me? I don't want you to because if the word got around my life wouldn't be worth living. Couldn't you just say that some boy brought her back?" Ricky pleaded.

  "You really make it hard for me, don't you, sonny?"

  "Would you please, sir? Just forget about me."

  Landon hummed and hawed but eventually agreed not do any more than tell the bare facts. No one need know that Ricky had anything to do with it. But he was sad for it seemed as though the man Hack would get away with it. He reluctantly let the boy go, too, but was determined that he would contact Hughes to find out more about him. So he told Ricky that as he was about to go to his place of business he would take him home, as it was near to where Ricky lived. Of course, he also wanted to see where and how the
boy lived.

  Ricky was not reluctant to accept a lift for to tell the truth he was still feeling a bit wobbly and had a headache. At his home he said a polite farewell and Mr Landon shook his hand, saying, "Will you promise me one thing, Ricky?"

  "If I can, sir," Ricky answered.

  "Will you promise to come to me if you are in any need or if you strike trouble at any time?" he asked.

  "Well, sir," answered Ricky, "I will keep it in mind. But thank you all the same."

  Mr Landon sat in thought as the carriage turned towards the warehouse, then he tapped at the panelling and called, "Gray, take me to the Herald office."

  Mr Landon knew the editor, but not well. He knew he was a respected citizen and felt that he would get a sensible opinion of the boy who intrigued him so much. So it was that from then on, they shared an interest in Ricky. Landon catching sight of the lad at times, and Hughes passing on any information he thought may interest the man.

  Meanwhile Ricky worked hard and by the time he was fifteen he had enough money to buy the barrow that he dearly wanted so that he could start his business career. He also acquired a few other things, first was a stronger and much bigger body, which indicated that he would be a big man when mature, and also made him realise that he would be a harder person to better when challenged by some of the street gangs which roamed the town. He also acquired a small boy who had come into his life one wet and cold winter's night.

  Ricky's room opened straight onto the street and one night was awakened by a scuffling on his door. The wind was howling and the rain pouring down in torrents. The scuffling continued and Ricky assumed that it was a stray dog who was sheltering in his doorway, but something made him get up out of bed and look. There was a small boy curled up as small as a boy could trying to get his blue feet out of the wind and rain. He fell in when Ricky opened the door and what a wet, miserable little fellow he was. He was about ten years old and filthy, dirty. He spoke the language of the gutter, greeting Ricky with a foul expletive as he fell at the older boy's feet. Ricky remembering how many nights he lay in such a place almost crying for some sort of protection, bade the boy come in to shelter. He was tempted to ask the lad to share his bed but knew that he would be infested with lice, so decided to doss him down on the floor for the night and deal with him later. His offer was gratefully received and the funny little chap had a drier night. Ricky suggested that he take his wet things off but the boy refused saying, "What'd ah want take me things orf for? I ain't got any more an' ah'd get me deaf o'cold, ah would. Nah ah'll jes' doss 'ere, mate."