When the Singing Stops

by Di Morrissey

  ‘He won’t come until morning and we have the boat! It’ll be too late.’ She began to cry and Connor rocked her in his arms as she called out for her brother Matthew. He kissed her wet face, fear in his own heart. ‘I love you, Madi. I would lay down my life for you, God I wish . . .’ He kicked at the wooden wall in anger at the frightening realisation facing them. He turned back to Madi reaching for her in the darkness and found her tightly clenched fist. Prising open her fingers he felt the wooden frog. ‘Hang on to this, Madi. Don’t give up, we won’t make it easy for them. We’ll get out of this, I know we will.’

  ‘Why would he wear a frog?’ asked Madi as she rocked to and fro holding the small carving to her cheek.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She lowered her voice. ‘I saw his hands under the blindfold. He was wearing a gold frog ring and he had a tattoo of a little gold frog.’

  ‘I don’t know, Madi,’ Connor said wearily, wondering if they would ever escape.

  Lying on the dirt they held each other through the long night, dozing then awakening as nightmares crowded in. Just before dawn the helicopter engine whirred into life and it took off.

  A little later they heard several men talking and could smell a fire and food cooking.

  Connor rubbed his head. ‘We have to work out a plan. They don’t know we’ve untied ourselves, we can grab one of them when they come in, use him as a shield . . .’

  ‘And then what? Connor, we’re outnumbered and they have guns. They could save a lot of effort by shooting and burying us.’

  Eventually the padlock rattled, the door was pushed open and four men rushed in, two grabbing Connor, the other two moving towards Madi. They gave each other a look. So much for any plans to escape.

  They were shoved, stumbling, outside. There was a short discussion among the men which neither of them could follow, then one of the men tied Madi and Connor’s arms behind them once more. Exhausted and numb, Madi said nothing, feeling as if she was in a trance. Connor whispered out of the corner of his mouth. ‘We’ll try and make a break when we get a chance . . . do something . . . just watch me, okay?’

  Madi stared at him uncomprehendingly. All fight had gone, replaced by a paralysing acceptance of their dreadful fate.

  The man with the gun called to one of the others and each held onto Connor and Madi and began walking them across the clearing.

  They were approaching the trees when Madi heard the call of an eagle, followed immediately by another on the other side. Something made her glance back over her shoulder and the tableaux she saw became fixed in her mind forever.

  Standing a few feet away from the edge of the trees stood two Amerindians. Faces painted and wearing only small aprons, they were aiming long wooden blowpipes. Madi swivelled her head back to the front and couldn’t believe her eyes. Two more Amerindians holding bows and arrows stepped from the trees in front of them. At the sound of another eagle’s call, there was a soft whishing as arrows and blow darts tipped with poison silently hit their targets. The man with the gun died instantly with an arrow through the temple. The other men, hit by poison darts, buckled, fell and writhed in agony before gasping and lying deathly still.

  The Amerindians melted into the trees except one who trotted forward with an almost casual loping barefooted gait. Madi gasped as he drew a knife and slit the ropes around the wrists.

  ‘Uman!’ she said, recognising the husband of Dia, her pottery teacher. ‘How did you get here?’

  ‘Yesterday, we were hunting and we heard a gunshot. We saw what happened. We waited for the right time to get you.’

  ‘My God, how can we thank you . . .’ Connor shook his hand then glanced around at the bodies. ‘What are we going to do about this?’

  ‘These are bad men. They steal our trees, sell drugs. Now they hurt you. We have ways of sending a message to these people they are not welcome in our lands.’ He paused and looked each of them in the eye. ‘You must never speak of this. You do not know what tribe or where we come from. Yes?’

  ‘Of course, we understand,’ said Madi.

  ‘You go back same way.’

  ‘Did you see the helicopter, see anyone else?’ asked Connor.

  ‘City man in helicopter, fat one. No markings on the helicopter.’

  Madi took Connor’s hand. ‘Let’s get out of here. Thank you, Uman. We won’t speak of your part in this.’

  The Amerindian gave a quick smile and trotted back into the trees. Connor and Madi picked up their packs and began running.

  They were halfway down the river, the little outboard motor going as fast as possible when they saw a small woodskin canoe sliding along the water close to the bank in the shadow of the trees. Cut from one piece of bark, the little one-man craft skimmed along paddled by the unmistakable figure of Lester. He waved the paddle at Connor and Madi and they stopped the engine. Lester scrambled into the aluminium dinghy and tied the woodskin to the stern.

  ‘I was gettin’ worried bout yo’ lovebirds, reckon I’d better check.’

  As they headed back to Lester’s camp they told him the story. He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Man, yo in a heap of trouble. Better keep dis one under de hat. Yo spose dat chopper man comin’ back soon. And what about de drugs in de logs? Dey won’t leave dat sittin’ in de forest.’

  ‘They don’t know where we are or who we are. And they’re not going to broadcast the fact they’re involved in drug smuggling. We’ll report what happened to the police. Of course we won’t be able to offer anything at all in the way of information. We were blindfolded, had no idea of who saved our lives. We are innocent victims.’ Connor drew a breath. ‘That’s our story and we’re sticking to it. All I care about now is a decent feed and a sleep.’

  Lester looked worried. ‘I don’ know ’bout dat. Talking to de police. Fo sure dat drug boss be somebody important and he be knowed in de town.’

  ‘He’s right, Connor. You know the sort of people who are into drugs. If any of them find out what happened to us, they could drop the word to the frog man. He’s already tried to kill us once.’

  Connor tried to calm Madi whose voice had risen until she seemed on the edge of hysteria. ‘Let’s just head back to Georgetown as soon as we can.’

  ‘Sammy can fix dat.’ Seeing Madi’s set and stubborn face, Lester spoke gently to her. ‘It be best ting fo now, Madison. I be back down soon fo de rally and see ma boy.’

  Despite her brief recovery at Lester’s camp, Madi was still locked into a feeling of hollow numbness, operating on some form of remote control, as they headed into Georgetown in a rattling truck driven by a friend of Sammy.

  As the truck shivered over the potholes, she leaned against the door, not listening to the chat between Connor and the driver. She stared out at the passing sugarcane country. The fields were filled with neat, straight soldiers of cane in regimented rows, plumed heads erect, while narrow canals of dark snaky water dissected the green army.

  The driver pointed to a small house. ‘That be de house of Joe Solomon. Man, he threw down de last Australia wicket in de tied test match at Melbourne back in de sixties. He was a famous son round dese parts.’

  Connor nodded. ‘I guess so. I think I’ve seen that replayed on TV.’

  They rattled past small townships of field workers whose wooden houses squatted astride fat pillars with steps leading to small verandahs where families watched the passing parade of other families. These were Hindustani towns and faded cloth pennants flapped on leaning bamboo poles beside small shrines in the front yards. Amid the squalor of faded paint and scrawny dogs sniffing through litter, little girls in bright dresses and coloured hair ribbons shone like flowers on a bleak vine. The truck passed patches of activity—streetside restaurants exuding the smell of curry and spices, Indian music blaring tinnily through loudspeakers, peeling flapping posters of Bombay films.

  Madi found herself physically aching for the solitude and beauty of the river. These shantytowns seemed so temporary, so depressi
ng. On a river she felt she was journeying into the past, was part of the essence that created the landscape. The vastness, the emptiness, the aloneness of the riverscape and interior touched a nerve in her soul.

  Her appreciation of the import of nature had grown in these past weeks, and with it had come an awareness that people evolved within nature and that man’s destruction of the unique beauty of the natural world was like a bite into the human soul.

  It was only the bare facts of what had happened that they related to Matthew once they were back in the safety of his house.

  But Matthew was aghast and even more so, as they related their experiences in detail over drinks at sunset in the garden. ‘How did you get into such a situation? It’s unbelievable! You’re just supposed to be on holiday, Madi, not landing in the middle of some drug ring and nearly getting killed! I never did like the idea of you going bush with that fellow.’

  Connor tried to placate Matthew. ‘It’s another world out there, mate, and not all as it appears.’

  ‘So what’s new?’ retorted Matthew trying to control his rising concern. ‘We all know that this part of the world is a real hot bed of drugs and corruption.’

  His sister came to the rescue. ‘Matty, don’t blame Connor. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t wanted to be out there with Lester and we hadn’t gone exploring, he would have been spending his holidays in Barbados with a pina colada and a bevy of beauties.’

  Connor gave a small grin. ‘Those days are over. Anyway, the bottom line is, we were saved by a stroke of luck . . . the next question is how safe are we back here?’

  ‘I think you should clear out and go on to London, sis, just as soon as I can get you on a flight. Just to be on the safe side,’ said Matthew calmly.

  Madi and Connor exchanged a quick glance. ‘Why me leave? Connor’s in just as much danger. I’m not ready to leave, Matt . . . for lots of reasons. I’ve decided, and it’s not likely that we’re going to run into that horrible man again. What would he say? Hi, remember how we met when I was smuggling drugs across the border? They should be more nervous of us.’

  ‘That’s the point, Madi. If he’s so ruthless and if he’s feeling nervous when he learns what has happened there’s no knowing what he might do. When are you going to report this to the police?’

  ‘First thing tomorrow morning,’ said Connor. ‘We’ll ring early and make an appointment with Inspector Palmer, since we’ve had some business with him before.’

  Matthew shook his head with concern. ‘Cops like Palmer make me uneasy. They’re either very good, or very corrupt. Either way, he’s sure going to raise an eyebrow when he hears your story, Madi. It seems that every time you take a nature walk you end up with a body or two.’

  They were greeted effusively by Inspector Palmer who politely ushered them into his office and heard their story without saying a word, leaning back most of the time fiddling with a ballpoint pen and not taking his eyes off them. Something in his eyes, his manner and his attitude, disturbed Madi. She hadn’t liked him during the interview at New Spirit after Ernesto’s death and her gut instinct told her to tread warily now.

  At the end of their story Palmer offered them tea. ‘It must have been a terrifying ordeal for you both. Most unfortunate. The deaths don’t surprise me too much. The natives that far into the jungle still prefer their own laws in preference to those of the state. I’ll have my staff take statements from you both,’ then he added with slight emphasis, ‘separately’.

  ‘We understand,’ said Connor with firmness and assurance.

  ‘It’s a shame, Inspector,’ said Madi with equal firmness, ‘that such a beautiful country with so much potential is being invaded by drug cartels.’

  He gave a small smile. ‘My dear Miss Wright, it is good to hear you speak so fondly of our country but it occurs to me you have been quite out of your depth. You are not really equipped to deal with the subtleties of the local scene. And you seem to have a . . . shall we say, a knack, for finding yourself in awkward situations. Frankly, I would advise you to move on to somewhere a little more suited to your interests. I believe you were on your way to . . . London, was it?’

  ‘You’re telling me to leave the country?’

  ‘Of course not. You must make such a decision yourself. But frankly we cannot guarantee your safety. Need I say more?’

  Connor was furious. ‘Was there really any need to say that? Miss Wright has been through a great deal, there is no need to alarm her unduly. Anyway, I think she is handling the stress of all this amazingly well.’

  ‘And my interests are here,’ said Madi firmly, then added ‘for a little while at least.’

  ‘And those are?’ queried the inspector, leaning forward with increased interest.

  Although taken slightly aback at the inspector’s interest, Madi saw no problem with telling him. ‘I’m fascinated by the Amerindians, the wilderness, the country as a whole. It has huge potential, beyond digging holes for minerals. I’d like to see more of this country, perhaps get involved in a way I can help its people.’

  Palmer leaned back in his chair, smiling with understanding. ‘Ah, a new age woman! Well, I’m sure we’ll be grateful for your input, Miss Wright.’ He pressed a buzzer on his desk and a policewoman came in at once. ‘Constable, would you please arrange for teams to interview Miss Wright and Mr Bain and take statements. I’ll brief the officers first.’ He rose and escorted them to the door. ‘I’ll probably be back in touch after I’ve read the statements. By the way, I don’t expect to find any bodies.’

  Connor and Madi stopped in their tracks. ‘Whatever are you inferring, Inspector?’ snapped Connor.

  ‘Because you have taken more than a day to inform us of these deaths the bodies almost certainly will have been removed by the time our men get there, even by helicopter. The trail will be very cold unfortunately. The drug bosses cover their tracks very well indeed.’ He shrugged. ‘It will be hard to follow up on your reports.’

  Later, over lunch, they compared stories of their interviews and were relieved to find that they were consistent in vital detail. Both found the interviewing officers polite and efficient, but Madi was still annoyed at the attitude of Inspector Palmer. ‘Conceited, condescending bastard, isn’t he? I don’t like him one bit.’

  Connor raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s a pretty tough assessment of the man. You’re more upset because he suggested you run off to London.’

  ‘It was a sexist suggestion,’ said Madi. ‘He didn’t suggest you run off to somewhere, did he?’

  Connor smiled and leaned towards her in a gesture of affection. ‘That’s one of the reasons why I love you, Madi. You’re strong and straight up.’

  Madi smiled back, responding to a surge of inner delight. ‘You know, Connor, I think that is the nicest thing that anyone has said to me for a very long time.’

  A few days later Lester arrived in town. Madi decided to have a small dinner to welcome him back and say thank you for his hospitality up the river. ‘Just you, me, Connor and Kevin if he wants to come,’ she told Matthew.

  ‘Good idea. Count Kevin out though. He’s up at the mine and when he is here he seems to spend all his time over at Viti’s house.’ He gave a broad smile.

  ‘How serious is he?’ asked Madi, who felt she’d been out of touch with Matthew and Kevin’s social life since leaving Georgetown for the interior.

  ‘As serious as these things ever get,’ said Matthew. ‘That’s how it is for blokes like us. Moving around, being in a place for a limited time, there’s no point in thinking in terms of permanent relationships. But it’s nice to have female company, local or expat, and then we all move on. The diplomat’s dance they call it.’

  ‘Like you and Sharee. And Connor, is he a dancer too?’

  Matthew became serious. ‘He has been, Madi. Very much so from what I’ve gathered from him and people who’ve known him. I don’t doubt he is incredibly fond of you, but be careful, sis. I’d hate to see you let down, or hurt again.’<
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  ‘No chance of that, Matt,’ she retorted. ‘He’s been doing the chasing that’s for sure, but I’m not about to step into anything serious . . . I’m not ready. I’m playing and dancing—like you guys. Guyana is just a lovely interlude,’ she gave him a cheeky wink. ‘Well I’d better go and consult with Hyacinth on the menu for dinner.’

  Matthew watched Madi head for the kitchen feeling somewhat deflated. He’d never seen Madi quite so self-assured before.

  But in the kitchen Madi’s light-hearted attitude evaporated. As she opened cupboards and stared at the pantry shelves she was wondering just how truthful Connor had been with her. Was his slightly confused, vulnerable and besotted attitude just part and parcel of his game plan? How real were those protestations of love? He’d certainly been passionate and seemingly genuine, but she asked herself, ‘Will he still love me in the morning?’ Was she being too careful in case she was just another dancing partner to him? Or were her doubts still a reaction to all those years of low self-esteem caused by her disastrous marriage?

  ‘Is you lookin’ for someting special or just inspecting de cupboards?’ sniffed Hyacinth coming in the back door with a bucket as Madi stood, unseeing, before the open food shelves.

  ‘Oh,’ she blinked, ‘just thinking, Hyacinth. We’re having a friend to dinner tonight, what do you think we should have?’

  Hyacinth, ever immaculate, tied a full apron over her orange and black flowered dress and pointed to the bucket with glee. A large fishtail poked out the top. ‘I jist buy fish from de fish man. Man, I fix him today. He come to de gate and sell fish with his scales an’ I jist know he tricking me. So today I take down de scales and weigh myself. He no cheat me today, so we got one big fish,’ she said.

  ‘Good. Baked fish, and what about one of the curried rice and vegetable dishes you do, and a baked custard with some fruit?’

  ‘I do some of dose savoury meatballs for de drinks. Better make de ice too.’

  She lifted the pot of boiled water off the stove where it had been cooling, and using a dipper began filling ice cube trays with the safe drinking water. ‘So who de guest be?’