The Perfect Gift

by Mark Stewart

  TRENT PREPARED to land the plane by lining up a dirt path which ran along the entire length of the fast-flowing river. The usual whine of the engines slowed. The ground came up quickly.

  “Where does the water go?” asked Naomi, watching the river flow towards a cliff face.

  “It pours into an underground tunnel. In the dry season about four years ago, I dived into the cave and followed the waist deep water for half an hour before giving up. Through research, I found a map. It showed me the river ended at the sea near Darwin.”

  The plane landed gracefully, coming to a stop next to the river. The moment Trent cut the engines he opened the door. The wind came from the north. The sun felt warm against Naomi’s skin.

  “Every dam between here and the house we landed at has tapped into the underground river,” quoted Naomi.

  “You catch on quick,” replied Trent.

  “You haven’t explained in detail how your family came across this place.”

  “Didn’t I?”

  “No. You avoided details of my question by changing the plane’s course one degree.”

  “You’re a very observant young lady.”

  “I’m curious.”

  “Also, intelligent,” added Trent. “I love a woman who is intelligent.”

  ‘One for me,’ Naomi thought.

  “Discovering the Oasis had been a massive coincidence. My great grandfather’s best mate Tom conned him into selling everything he owned back in England. Free land in Australia he’d reported. They came out together dragging their families with them. When they reached Australia, they were laughed out of the small wooden governor’s shack. Unperturbed by the set-back my great grandfather conned the government of the time into giving him anything he discovered right here. The rest speaks for itself.”

  “Fantastic family history!” exclaimed Naomi.

  “I’ve confessed too much. Don’t forget you’re supposed to be here for work.” Trent unbuckled his seat belt and stepped down from the plane. “Whatever you do, stay away from the river. She’s moving the fastest I’ve ever seen after the recent storm.”

  Naomi focused on a group of riders who were approaching the plane. She guessed they came from the main house. Each one of the group was riding a magnificent looking horse. The group resembled characters straight out of a western movie. She undid her seat belt and stepped down from the plane.

  “The posse has arrived,” she said, pointing.

  Trent sent her a thunderstorm expression.

  “I’m only kidding.”

  Naomi watched each rider pull back on the reins of their horse before stepping onto the ground. The boots of each rider sank slightly in the softened mud.

  “Welcome home,” chorused the riders in unison.

  Naomi paid special attention to a tall man wearing a cowboy hat, blue jeans, and a plain pale blue button up shirt. The man’s stomach looked relatively flat for his age. He took off his large hat, outstretching his hand. His thick grey head of hair looked tidy. His broad shoulders were square; his posture, straight. He stood military style waiting to shake hands.

  Trent shook his hand. Politely he palmed his free hand towards his companion.

  “Father, this is the single package I informed you about, Miss Naomi Fitzgerald; Mr. Earl Stanton.”

  “We meet at last. Sir, it’s urgent we talk.”

  Stanton faced Naomi, revealing a picture of the Oasis tattooed on his forearm.

  “I have some reservations about hiring a young lady from the city,” he growled. “I did expect at least one bloke.”

  “Father, I explained Naomi is the only person.”

  Stanton grunted. Reaching out, he shook Naomi’s hand.

  “Earl, help the young lady to feel welcome.”

  Naomi searched for the friendly voice. It came from the mouth of a tall, thin middle-aged woman who held the reins of a brown mare.

  “I’m Mrs. Margaret Stanton,” she announced, stepping forward. “My husband only looks mean. When you get to know him, you’ll find he’s nothing more than a giant teddy bear.”

  Earl Stanton’s chuckle quickly changed into a full belly laugh.

  “Glad you could come. I need all the help I can get.”

  The remainder of the group rushed to Naomi’s side. Trent introduced each one of his family members in turn.

  “Pleased to meet you,” said a man stepping forward. His grin widened; his blue eyes seemed to flash.

  ‘You have to be Trent’s older brother,’ Naomi thought. ‘Your build is similar, and you wear the same style clothing as his father, except for the black singlet.’

  “Enough greetings,” bellowed Stanton. “We’ve work to do. Son, we’ll see you at the house for dinner.”

  Trent nodded as the group moved to mount their horses.

  “Mr. Stanton, I must talk to you,” called Naomi, watching the group start to ride off.

  Disappointed at being ignored Naomi faced the one remaining rider.

  “I’m Mitch, Trent’s younger brother. I’ll be twenty-five next week.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” replied Naomi.

  Mitch let the reins of his horse drop so he could reach out his hand. He grabbed Naomi’s wrist, bending down to kiss her knuckles.

  “Hey,” yelled Trent.

  “I can tell he’s been hanging around you,” laughed Naomi. She felt deeply touched by the fuss. Trent’s sudden outburst tickled her to the core.

  Charlie lifted the lid of the box and slithered out of the plane. He made his way towards the last remaining horse, curling around its foreleg. The horse jerked his head around the moment it felt the snake. Charlie lifted his head. The horse reared up, accidently bumping Naomi towards the river. She rolled her ankle in the soft mud and landed on her back in waist deep water. She shivered from the sudden cold. Almost instantly she felt the water start to suck her down. Trying desperately to stand in the fast-moving current, Naomi knew the river already held her firmly in its grip. If she didn’t stand immediately, the river would sweep her off towards the cave mouth. Using every ounce of strength, she could gather to stand, Naomi only managed to push her hands into the air. To stay calm, she tried to remember the swimming style Trent taught her. She immediately attempted a few feeble strokes.

  Trent whirled around the moment he heard the splash. Naomi suddenly surfaced, gasping for air. She locked her gaze on Trent’s horror-stricken face. Before she could yell a word, the water swirled around her, pulling her down for the second time.

  ‘I feel incredibly calm,’ she thought. ‘Maybe this is what people went through when they were about to die.’

  The washing machine style river started her in a tumble spin. Naomi locked her elbows. The act momentarily stopped her tumbles. Her feet scraped the hard ground. She winced in pain as her ankle rolled again. Naomi’s head broke the surface. She didn’t waste a second, quickly gulping a life-saving breath before the water again swallowed her whole.

  ‘Trent, where are you. I need you to use the rope,’ Naomi screamed inside her head. ‘I must be dreaming. I fell asleep lying on my bed. Yes, this is a dream. In a few seconds, I’ll wake to find myself wrapped up in the bed linen.’

  Naomi’s head broke the surface again. She managed to take another deep breath. A short, sharp scream followed. Looking upstream she saw Trent running.

  “This is no dream,” she mumbled. Lifting her arm towards her hero, she yelled. “Trent, save me. Use your rope.”

  “I’m coming,” Trent bellowed. “Hold your arm up.”

  Naomi did what he said. She watched him unclip the rope from his belt and start the rope circling above his head. The gap between them quickly grew wider. She saw him gather the rope, re-clipping it back onto his belt.

  The water covered Naomi’s face, slipping her from view.

  ‘What’s his idea? So much for my cowboy hero,’ Naomi screamed inwardly. She moved her thoughts from Trent to Kaite. She felt sad she didn’t get the chance to make a phone call to her
to find out what she might be doing. Naomi felt proud at knowing the fact she’d probably be getting ready to go out and have a good time at a nightclub.

  Returning her thoughts back to her dilemma, Naomi could feel her body start to go numb from the cold. Her lungs started to ache. She tried to think how long she could hold her breath. The only time she ever tried she failed to get past ten seconds. At realizing she might have been holding her breath for eight seconds, Naomi started to panic. Surely, she could hold her breath for at least fifteen seconds. Naomi exhaled a small amount of air hoping the act might help to stop the ache in her lungs. It didn’t. Her left shoulder dug into the hard ground. In seconds, excruciating pain shot throughout her body. Life as she knew it began to slip away.

  Naomi barely felt the tug. She opened her eyes, looking down at her right leg. She felt disappointed her new jeans were finished, ripped open from the knee down to her ankle. Her hip had scraped against a rock, ripping her pocket away, exposing her thigh. Her eyes widened when she felt the edge of the whirlpool.

  ‘The cave entrance must be close,’ she reasoned.

  Panic set in. Naomi commenced rotating her arms in a desperate freestyle swim. Ascending to the surface proved to be difficult. She wanted to kick herself for not heeding her mother’s warning about learning to swim. She closed her eyes thinking the end must be seconds away. Trent’s face flashed into her mind. Why didn’t he bother to rescue her? Did he lie about everything? The spark she felt for him must have been fake. She made up her mind he must be just the pilot. He’d successfully strung her along just like the other men who had entered her life over the years. She felt sad no one ever discovered the perfect gift. After her death, she imagined Trent standing in the middle of the local pub laughing, having a joke at her expense. Kaite did warn her to stay in the city. Now she could kick herself for not listening.

  Naomi pushed Trent’s reoccurring face from her mind. Her parents and Kaite’s image were the ones she wanted to remember at the time of her death. Feeling something hard around her waist, she lifted her hand to attempt to remove it. Everything around her started to go black. Her head broke the surface. She opened her eyes. Her chest automatically heaved life-saving oxygen. The object of concern felt firmly wrapped around her waist. Looking down she saw tanned skin. Naomi coughed out water and managed to look up.

  “G’day. I thought I’d join you for a swim. If you’d given me more notice, I’d have taken off my boots.”

  “Trent!” coughed Naomi. She could hardly believe it. If she had died why was he in her thoughts? “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t you want to be rescued?”

  “Does this mean I’m not dead?”

  “Not even close. Have you forgotten what I told you earlier? Nothing gets away from me.”

  Oxygen flowed quickly through Naomi’s body. Her faculties surged. She raised her arms, hugging Trent’s neck.

  “Whatever happens don’t let go. This whirlpool ends up inside the underground tunnel I told you about.”

  “How are you going to save us both? I can feel the water starting to suck us down.”

  Trent grinned. “Plan B.”

  She gave him a pacified look, deciding to let the man do his stuff.

  Trent unclipped his rope and tied one end around both of them as they were dragged to the bottom. The moment his feet touched the ground, he crouched. In one massive show of strength, he pushed off, propelling them both upwards.

  They broke surface.

  Naomi slipped from his shoulders clinging onto his belt buckle using white knuckles. Trent sent the rope sailing through the air, snagging a steel hook 25mm in diameter which someone thoughtfully rammed into the side of the vertical wall of the Oasis. The rope tightened. They hung suspended up to their waist in white surging water which threatened to suck them down to the bottom and sweep them to their deaths.

  Naomi looked down at the whirlpool. She saw hard ground at the center of the vortex. She clung to Trent’s brass belt buckle using every ounce of strength she could muster. She shuddered at the thought of being sucked down into the cave, her lifeless body bouncing underwater for hours, maybe even weeks before it could be found at the beach. Looking up into Trent’s azure coloured eyes, she noted their sparkle made him look jovial.

  “Why are you so happy?” she asked.

  “I saved your life.”

  Naomi frowned, trying to climb. “I hate to be a party crasher. I have some sad news. The water seems to be rising.”

  “No, it’s not, your slipping. Hold on.”

  Naomi watched Trent monkey climb, up the rope, bringing her up out of the water.

  “Now it’s your turn to help,” groaned Trent. “I need you to reach out for the hooked steel rod above your head. Once you have a firm grip, you have to let me go.”

  “I can’t. I’m too weak from the cold.”

  “Yes, you can. The cavalry is almost here.”

  Naomi glanced upstream, spying the small group of riders galloping up to the mouth of the cave. Mr. Stanton led the charge. Naomi reached for the steel hook and curled her fingers around the cold metal. In a brave attempt, she tried to lift her body free of the water.

  “There’s no need to climb,” chuckled Trent. “Help is at hand.”

  A lassoed rope fell over Naomi’s head. Hanging by one hand, she managed to push her torso through the rope. It quickly tightened. In seconds, she’d been pulled free of the water.

  “Mr. Stanton, you have to save Trent,” Naomi urged, collapsing into his arms.

  “He can look after himself,” he mumbled.

  Stanton placed Naomi gently on the ground next to the river. She opened her mouth to yell at him. Her scream didn’t leave her throat. Two hands grabbed her around the waist, heaving her to a standing position.

  “Are you okay?”

  Naomi looked into Trent’s eyes. They were full of genuine concern.

  “Yes, I’ll be fine. Thank you for rescuing me. How did you escape the water?”

  “I swung myself free.”

  Mr. Stanton let out a loud belly laugh. The noise sent the group into chuckles.

  Naomi’s blue face changed to anger red. “Stop laughing at me,” she ordered.

  Mr. Stanton raised his hand into the air. The group instantly fell silent.

  “Are you positive you’re okay?” Stanton asked.

  Naomi gave a slow nod.

  “To set the record straight none of us will ever laugh at you. On behalf of my family, we are overjoyed you are safe.”

  “Here, here,” chorused the group.

  “I apologize for flying off the handle. I’m just a little embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. Come on back to the house, we’ll have a coffee and scones,” instructed an elderly lady from the back of the pack. “I’ll find you a soft towel. Some dry clothes too.”

  “She’s my Grandmother,” whispered Trent. “She always has freshly baked scones ready to eat.”

  Naomi studied the faces of the small group. “Thanks to each one of you for coming to my rescue and being so hospitable.” When she focused on Stanton’s face, she could tell he didn’t look at all pleased.

  “Girlie, what kind of foolish stunt did you think you were trying to pull? Trent talked me into giving you the job. I trust my son. I think he and I are going to have words later. I need a Jackaroo for two weeks, not a two-bit girl from the city masquerading as a bloke.”

  Margaret stepped up, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She said in a whisper. “Earl, give the young woman a chance.”

  “No. I’ll go so far as to say I’m happy she’s okay.”

  Naomi put her hands on her hips, glaring at Stanton. Trent shook his head, waving her away from the group. Naomi moved off, focusing on Stanton. She surmised he looked to be a man of good character, not how he appeared; tough on the outside. She watched him point towards her a few times before slapping Trent on the shoulder. Naomi didn’t know what to make of the whole scene.

>   When Trent beckoned Naomi over, she quickly marched towards the group. Standing next to Trent, studying his stone-faced expression, her smile could easily melt an ice cube on a cold day.

  Mr. Stanton put his hands on his hips, clearing his throat.

  ‘Obviously, he’s getting ready to say something important,’ thought Naomi.

  “Listen, girlie; I’m looking for a Jackaroo, not some two-bit city girl trying to look like a bloke. This, I’ve already mentioned. Trent should not have talked me into allowing him to bring you here. I’m not sure what you’ve got in mind. I know you’d never pass for a bloke, you’re too shapely.”

  Naomi folded her arms. “The first thing I want to say to you Mr. Stanton is; don’t ever call me girlie again.”

  “What if I do?”

  “I punched the lights out of the last bloke who said it.”

  Stanton cleared his throat again by coughing into his hand.

  “Secondly; I thought being a Jillaroo might be what I needed.”

  “Is there a third?”

  “Yes. I’m not a two-bit girl from the city wanting to look like a bloke.”

  “Trent told me how you handled Charlie the first time you met him. Any young lady who isn’t afraid to handle a two-metre python snake and has the nerve to stand up to me gets my vote. Welcome to the Oasis.” He grinned and shook her hand to seal his comment.

  Naomi’s eyes sparkled. “Does this mean I have the job?”

  “It sure does,” said Margaret Stanton. “The first thing the job requires you to do is to change into dry clothes. The second part is for you to eat a hot meal.”

  Naomi faced Trent. “Am I cooking, or are you?”

  Margaret Stanton said, “I’ll do the cooking. Come on; Grandma already has a head start.”

  Naomi saw the old woman riding off towards the house. “By the look of things, I think we should hurry.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN