Rain Stones 25th Anniversary Edition

by Jackie French

  ‘Did she fly after the war?’

  Their mother shook her head. ‘Not much. She and Dad came back here after the war. He was in New Guinea after 1942 and he was captured by the Japanese when he crashed. He never really recovered. I think he couldn’t cope with the things he had seen.’

  ‘What things?’ asked Harry.

  ‘Just things,’ said their mother vaguely. ‘I don’t remember him very well. Just this pale man who mostly stayed in his room or went out riding by himself. He died when I was nine. I’ve told you all this, I’m sure.’

  ‘Why didn’t she fly?’ asked Anne. ‘Because she had to look after the farm?’

  ‘She could have got a manager for the farm. There was one during the war. But there weren’t any jobs for women pilots then, there were too many men looking for the same jobs. Money was tight with your grandfather sick and she couldn’t buy a plane of her own. And there wasn’t any aerodrome nearby. Anyway, things had changed. There was me and Uncle Ron, and she couldn’t leave us or your grandfather, and later, well, she said she was too old. You have to have regular medicals to fly, you know.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Anne.

  ‘To make sure you can see and hear well enough to fly, that you’re not going to have a heart attack when you’re piloting so the aircraft crashes.’

  ‘Did she pass the medicals?’

  ‘Yes. She still flew for a few years. Just enough hours to keep her licence. She took us up when she could. In a tiny little red plane, all struts and wings and just big enough for one of us beside her and one in the back. It wasn’t at all like flying in a big commercial plane. You could feel the vibration through your feet and back, every beat of the engine. It darted and soared all over the place. It was so bright up there above the clouds. You felt you could lean down and touch each thing on earth, each tiny tree. You felt the whole world was yours.

  ‘I’ll never forget her face as we flew. Never. Her eyes were so bright, as bright as the sky.’

  ‘As bright as a bird’s,’ said Anne, thinking of Dorothy Penelope.

  Her mother smiled. ‘Just like a bird’s. The aerodrome was run by an old friend of hers. She was sad because he’d shaved off his RAAF moustache. I think he was sadder because she no longer flew.’

  ‘Why did she stop?’ asked Harry.

  ‘I don’t know. She said she was too old. She’d started to be vague about things even then. Maybe she was right.’

  Their father started the car. Their mother looked back at their grandmother’s window. ‘She used to take us up to the hills to watch the birds. She said you were never really earthbound when you could watch the birds. Now she just sits in her room.’

  The car drove slowly down the drive to the gate, through the overgrown garden, past the hedges with their bushy beards.

  ‘Hey,’ said Harry, ‘where’s the rose bush?’

  ‘What rose bush?’ asked their father.

  ‘The big pink one with the little flowers,’ said Anne.

  ‘It’s called Dorothy Perkins,’ said Harry.

  Their mother looked at them strangely. ‘There’s no rose bush now,’ she said. ‘There used to be one, years ago. I can just remember it. There was a fire when I was a little girl. It came in from the paddocks. They saved the house and the garden but the front fence burnt down. So did the rose bush. Your grandmother hoped for years it would sprout again, but it never did. She loved that bush. She said it had been planted for her on her fifth birthday. Her name was Dorothy too, you know. Dorothy Penelope.’

  Anne looked at Harry. He bit his lip.

  ‘She was a wonderful woman,’ said their mother, as the car turned into the road to town. ‘I wish you could have known her better.’

  Anne caught Harry’s eye. She reached over the front seat and lightly patted her mother’s shoulder. ‘I think we have,’ she said.

  Harry nodded. ‘Just for a little while.’

  Their mother didn’t seem to hear. ‘She’s stuck in that room away from everything. Away from the wind and the sky and the world outside.’

  Harry glanced back down the road at the garden. The tall old oak tree crowned the garden. Was there a glimpse of a white pinafore through the branches?

  ‘She still has the sky. I don’t think she ever left it,’ he said softly.

  The car climbed the brown hills. The world hung blue and endless above them. Somewhere a wind was blowing and birds were flying, far above the earth.

  Jacob Saw

  The new kid was brought by his mother, which was bad enough, but he was holding on to her arm as well. He had black hair, carefully slicked down over his forehead, and boring clothes, the sort your grandmother might give you for Christmas. Ben ducked under the water, swam through the crowd of legs, and burst up beside Simon. He nudged him.

  ‘Hey, Si, look. The new kid’s brought his mother!’

  Simon wiped the water out of his eyes and turned to the swimming pool entrance. The new kid’s mother was talking to Billo the instructor. Billo was taking a quick drag on a cigarette. He wasn’t supposed to smoke in front of the kids, so he grabbed a smoke between lessons. Billo coughed if he had to swim a lap, and swore when the water was cold, but he was a good teacher. He’d give you extra coaching after school, sometimes. They reckoned he knew the name of every kid in town.

  The new kid stood next to him. He wasn’t looking at the pool. His head was cocked at a funny angle, as though he was trying to hear something. He held a stick in one hand, the fingertips of the other still lightly touched his mother’s arm.

  ‘You pill brain. That’s the new ranger’s kid. You know, they live out past Pigeon Gully. He’s blind.’

  ‘Blind?’ Ben stared at him, just as the new kid turned his face towards them. ‘His eyes look all right. Why can’t he see?’

  ‘I dunno. Why don’t you ask him?’

  ‘I’d be embarrassed. You ask him.’

  ‘No way. Hey, what do you think he’s doing here then?’

  ‘Suppose he’s coming to the swimming class.’

  ‘Billo won’t take him. Not if he can’t see. How’d he find the pool even? He might fall in or drown or something.’

  ‘Yeah? Want to bet?’

  The new kid’s mother was going out the gate, past the canteen where Mrs Wilson and old Miss Tate sat with their crochet. Neither had kids at the lessons. They just liked to watch, and catch up on gossip from anyone who walked by. The new kid must have had his togs on under his clothes. He was in his swimmers now and his fingers were on Billo’s arm. They walked towards the pool. Billo stopped at the concrete surrounds and said something. The new kid nodded. He let go of Billo’s arm and stepped carefully onto the concrete, feeling it with his stick. One step, two steps.

  All the kids were watching now. You could hear the water slopping at the sides of the pool, it was so quiet. Way past town a dog barked and sheep answered as a chorus.

  The stick touched the edge of the pool. The new kid stopped. He thought for a second, then the stick traced the edge of the pool until it touched the metal steps. The new kid stopped again. He bent down and carefully placed his stick at the poolside, then felt with his toe for the edge of the steps. He moved very slowly, foot by foot, down the steps, and into the water. The kids made way for him as he edged along the side. Amy Harper whispered something to Tania Zvenlich. Tania giggled. No one else spoke. There was a space around the new kid, as though no one wanted to be too close.

  ‘Okay, you lot.’ Billo came over to the edge of the pool. ‘This is Jacob. And if I catch any of you touching that stick you’ll be in the changing room for the rest of the lesson. And I won’t want you back again either. Understand? Now, everyone over to the side of the pool. I want to see what you remember from last time.’

  Ben found himself next to the new kid. He tried not to get too close. Mary was on the other side. Mary was Simon’s sister. She was a year younger than Simon but she was good at swimming. Better than Simon, mostly. She’d started lessons the same yea
r as they had. She was looking curiously at the new kid, Jacob, not bothering to hide it. Ben realised with a shock that she didn’t have to hide it. The new kid wouldn’t be able to tell if she was looking at him or not.

  ‘Okay, Amy and Tania, you swim first. I want you to freestyle down to the end and back. Right, go . . . now, Harry and Ngyen . . . Mary and Sarah . . . Simon, if you don’t stop that you can get out . . . Jacob and Ben . . .’

  Ben threw himself into the water. He could see the smooth concrete on the bottom, the shivering shadows from the rocking waves on top. He could hear Jacob beside him. He kept an eye out, expecting him to swim all over the place, but he swam straight. He was fast. Before Ben realised, Jacob’s legs were in front of him. He was a quarter of the way back to Billo before Ben had reached the other end; he’d passed Tania and was nearly up to Mary. Ben pushed harder. He was panting by the time he got back to Billo. Billo grinned approval.

  ‘Hey, you’re good!’ Ben blurted out to Jacob.

  Jacob turned to him. His eyes were brown. They looked okay, just not quite straight. And they looked behind you, not at your face.

  ‘We swim at school,’ said Jacob. ‘After school too, sometimes. There’s a heated pool near Gran’s so we swim in winter.’

  ‘Hey, cool. You’re lucky. Where do you go to school?’

  ‘In Sydney.’

  ‘I thought your parents lived out near Pigeon Gully? That’s what Si said.’

  ‘Yeah. I stay with my grandmother in term time. Mum comes to Sydney sometimes. She does reports and things for National Parks. I just get home for holidays and most weekends. It’s a drag having to be in Sydney though. Too much noise and cars and things. I like it here.’

  Ben looked at him sympathetically, then realised Jacob couldn’t see his expression. The water churned as Roger swam up to them. He was the last. His thrashing legs splashed their faces. Roger was a lousy swimmer. He only came to lessons because his father made him.

  Billo kept them swimming all lesson — freestyle, floating on their backs. Ben floated with his head far back. He could hear the hiss of the water at his ears. The sky hung blue and round above him, like a balloon that had been stretched too tight.

  ‘Okay, time’s up. I want to see every one of you here tomorrow, on time. You understand me? Anyone who’s late gets my boot up their backside.’

  ‘You don’t wear boots,’ said Simon.

  ‘They’ll get my thong then. Both thongs. Starting with you, Simon Harrison. All right — out!’

  Jacob got out last. Ben hung back, wondering if he needed a hand. But he seemed to manage. He found his stick where he’d left it, followed the concrete path to the changing room, followed the cement block wall with his hands till he found his pile of clothes, picked them up and kept on touching the wall, lightly, with his fingertips, until he found the door.

  Once inside he hesitated. He seemed to be listening. He avoided the area near the showers, where Simon and Roger were hooting, and walked over to where it was quieter on the left. Ben hauled his bag out of the way.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jacob. He walked till his stick felt the bench, stopped and put his clothes down.

  Ben wondered. Maybe you could see a little when you were blind. Maybe that was how he managed things.

  Surreptitiously, he watched Jacob get changed. Jacob felt each garment carefully, put his towel to the left and then his bathers on top of it, in hand’s reach so he’d know where they were. Then he felt for a comb in his bag.

  Ben left the changing rooms first. Mary came up to him.

  ‘Hey, do you reckon his mother’s going to pick him up? Do you think we should ask if he needs a hand? The blind kid?’

  ‘Jacob? I don’t know.’

  Jacob came out of the changing room. He held his cane in front of him, his bag in his other hand. The voices round the pool quietened as they watched him, the kids come for the next lesson, the kids from the last lesson, waiting to see what he’d do.

  Jacob tapped out three paces, paused as though remembering, then turned, passed the canteen, one arm out to feel his way through the gate. He halted, turned sharply right, and began his way up the hill. His cane swung slowly from side to side in front of him, touching the edges of the path as though to keep him straight.

  ‘I reckon he’s right,’ said Ben. Suddenly, on an impulse, he crossed over to the wire fence.

  ‘Hey, Jacob, bye!’ he yelled.

  Jacob’s face broke into a grin. He turned towards Ben, not quite meeting his eyes. ‘See you tomorrow!’ he called.

  Ben walked back to Mary. She was giggling.

  ‘You hear what he said?’ she snorted.

  ‘What?’

  ‘See you tomorrow! It’s like that joke. “See you tomorrow,” said the blind man. “I heard that,” said the deaf. “You don’t say,” said the dumb man.’

  ‘Oh. Yeah.’ Ben gave a reluctant grin.

  Somehow it didn’t seem all that funny.

  On Tuesday they started breaststroke. ‘You’re good enough now at the overarm,’ announced Billo. ‘All you need is practice. Especially you, boy,’ he said to Roger. ‘You need to remember to keep your head tucked down. You look like a hippopotamus coming up for air.’

  The kids laughed. ‘Enough of that,’ said Billo, scratching a mosquito bite on his leg. ‘Come on, into the water. And if I see any splashing I’ll have you out quick as look at you.’

  Breaststroke was easy, even for Roger, though it was slow. Jacob had learnt breaststroke in Sydney too, but he didn’t swim as straight as he did freestyle.

  ‘Back to the right!’ yelled Billo. ‘No, right, boy, not left. Are you deaf? That’s it. Good going. No, like a frog, girl — that’s more like a sheep. Ngyen, if you stop once more I’ll give you a push up the backside that’ll really keep you going. If you can swim a length freestyle, you can do it breaststroke.’

  The last part of the lesson was diving.

  ‘How’s he going to see where to go?’ whispered Mary.

  ‘Feel, I suppose,’ said Ben. ‘Hey, do you reckon he can see a little bit?’

  ‘Na, I asked him,’ said Simon. ‘He’s been blind since he was two. He was sick or something.’

  ‘Maybe he’ll miss the pool,’ giggled Amy. ‘And land on his face.’ Then she looked serious. ‘I told Mum about him being here. She said he shouldn’t be allowed. They’ve got special schools for people like him.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t he be here?’ demanded Simon.

  ‘Mum said because he won’t be as good as we are,’ said Amy. ‘He’ll keep us back.’

  Simon snorted. ‘He’s a better swimmer than you are.’

  ‘So what? He has that heated pool to practise in.’

  ‘So then he can’t be keeping you back, can he, Miss Smarty?’

  Amy made a rude sign. ‘You watch it,’ said Ben. ‘If Billo sees that he’ll boot you out of the class.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Amy. ‘Anyway, after this week we’re going down the coast till school starts. I can swim whenever I want to there. Anyway, Mum said I should be thankful I wasn’t blind. You can’t do anything if you’re blind. Can’t watch TV or read or play sport.’

  ‘I bet Jacob plays sport,’ said Ben. ‘You ask him. I bet he reads too.’

  ‘How can he?’ demanded Amy.

  ‘He’d have that . . . what-do-you-call-it? Braille. Where you feel these little bumps with your fingers.’

  ‘I reckon you think you know everything,’ said Amy.

  ‘I saw it on TV,’ said Simon. ‘You can read books and music and things with it. There was a bloke with a machine that took down notes for him too. Really quickly.’

  Amy snorted. ‘Well, I still don’t think he should be here. Not with normal people.’

  ‘Hey, you lot!’ roared Billo. ‘Stop your gossiping and get over here!’

  They lined up for the first dive. Billo came up and said something to Jacob. Jacob thought, then nodded. Billo was frowning as he came over to the o
thers, as though he was thinking. ‘Okay, you lot. Watch me. Then I want you to try it. Head down, okay?’

  They dived, one after the other. Roger, Amy, Ngyen, Tania, Simon, Ben, Sarah, Mary. Finally Jacob was left on the edge.

  ‘He won’t have seen what to do,’ thought Ben. ‘He won’t be able to do it.’

  Jacob moved his feet carefully to the side of the pool, felt for the edge with his toes. Billo came up to him. He spoke to him quietly, put his hand on his head and shoved it down. ‘Okay, dive!’ ordered Billo.

  Jacob dived. It was a clumsy dive. He came up spluttering. It must be like diving into darkness, thought Ben, not knowing where you were going. He wondered if he would have the courage to dive in the dark.

  Billo was grinning. ‘Okay for a first time,’ he said. ‘Good on you, boy. Okay, everybody up. We’ll try it again.’

  Friday was the last day of lessons. The air smelt of chlorine and sunscreen. The kids lazed on towels under the pepper trees waiting for Billo to fill in their certificates.

  ‘He could have filled them in last night,’ said Mary. ‘Then we wouldn’t have had to wait.’

  Simon rolled over and brushed the dried grass from his stomach. ‘Mum gave me $4 for a video this morning. I got Superman 4. Anyone want to come over this arvo and watch it?’

  ‘Boring,’ said Ben. ‘I’ve already seen it.’

  ‘I’ve seen it too,’ said Jacob. ‘It was okay. Not good enough to see again though.’

  There was silence. Mary nudged Amy.

  Amy cleared her throat. ‘How could you see it?’ she demanded.

  Jacob turned to her. His eyes focused just over her shoulder.

  ‘I listened to it,’ he explained. ‘And imagined what was going on.’

  ‘So you didn’t really see it?’ insisted Amy.