by Dale Furse
His sister? ‘You have a sister?’
He nodded.
‘Why haven’t you ever told me? Why haven’t I met her before?’
‘You will understand why when she gets here. She’s bringing your birthday presents and they will help explain the things I’ve avoided for far too long.’ He reached for her hand.
A glimpse of curiosity sparked in her mind. A sister and presents? It didn’t matter. She was going to uni whether he liked it or not. She snatched her hand away. ‘I don’t care. She never bothered to see me before now.’
‘There are reasons, Nell. Reasons why you have to stay close to the house and why you can’t attend university. Please, love, trust me.’
‘No. You can't stop me.’ She pushed her chair out from under her with such force it crashed to the floor. ‘I hate you,’ she screamed, and ran out of the kitchen. Hitting the sideboard with a closed fist as she passed, she stormed onto the side veranda.
She stood still and shivered. Tears ran down her cheeks and along her nose. She shouldn’t have said that. She didn’t hate him. She loved him with all her heart. Oh, Mum, she said silently, wishing once again her mother was there. She loved Annet but she wasn’t her mother and never would be.
Calming down a few minutes later, she felt silly for her tantrum. The croc’s words stung her mind. She sighed and had to admit she had acted childishly. Ugh. Being an adult wasn’t so great after all but she’d try harder next time.
She stilled , becoming aware of the breeze rustling the coconut palm fronds, the scratching animal noises under the house, probably lizards, the ebb and flow of the ocean pulling and pushing the sand.
A prickling sensation filled the air and she scratched at the itchy skin on her arms. A feeling of pending doom invaded her mind. She shivered and looked out over the ocean. Dark clouds stretched across the horizon. She was right. A huge storm was on its way.
CHAPTER THREE
A SOFT BREEZE RUFFLED HER CURLS AS SHE looked out over the ocean. She couldn't tell if the salt she tasted on her lips was from the ocean or her tears. As she gazed past the clumps of rusty, dead coral at the thunderheads blending into one, her chest tightened as if it was in a vice, the grey ocean and gloomy sky in front of her, and the rainforest-covered mountain behind her wasn’t her little piece of heaven at that moment. It was a prison. She was trapped. Trapped forever. How could her father do that to her? Did he really wish she’d died instead of her mother?
She remembered the first time she had heard those words from her father. A ten-year-old, hiding behind bushes, although she couldn't remember why. She had overheard her father talking to their neighbour, Carl Frederick.
‘You have to tell Nell,’ Carl had said.
‘I know,’ her father replied.
She remembered having to strain to hear the rest of what her father said, and although he spoke in hushed tones, she was sure she had heard correctly.
‘The truth is, Carl, I wish (mumble) died instead of Asisa.’
Ten-year-old Nell inserted her name easily into the part-heard sentence. 'The truth is, Carl, I wish Nell had died instead of Asisa.'
The same line had played in her mind a million times since that day. Instead of becoming less painful over the years, the words had burned in her memory and heart.
Her father's soft-soled footsteps sounded behind her. She turned, stepped into her white scuffs and threw him the most hateful look she could muster. Taking the stairs two at a time, she landed on the sand. ‘He wishes I was dead,’ she muttered.
The wind moved the dark clouds closer to shore. She headed for the path and as soon as she passed the front stairs, she started snatching the purple flowers off their stalks and tossing them at the wall of the house. By the time she arrived at the front corner, she’d de-headed every bloom she could get her hands on. Turning onto the path, she stopped and moaned, ‘I’m going to get sick of hanging around here. How many times can I go to and from the Frederick’s place?’ More tears pooled in her eyes. She swiped them away. ‘This is the worst day in my life.’
Humph. Crossing her arms, she slouched along the path curving its way around the foot of Mount Grief. It was quiet except for an animal’s call every now and then from the rainforest to her left and the sound of waves gently lapping the beach to her right. ‘Grrr,’ she growled. She was sick of being so isolated. She kicked the first fallen coconut she found. Searing pain filled her toes. Clasping both hands around her foot, she dropped down, moaning. ‘Ow, ow, ow.’
After several moments, the pain subsided and she checked each of her toes. None appeared broken. She stood up and gingerly tested her foot but as she took a step, a movement caught her eye.
A person meandered between the trees a little way up the mountain. Her mouth opened to call out a greeting but the crocodile’s words filled her mind, ‘You are in danger’. She checked herself and crouched low behind a bush. It looked like a man by the way he moved, although his movements were more of a skulk than anything else. He wore a dark-grey cape and hood and moved closer to the house. He was as out of place in Cape Hollow as the man who was with her father earlier.
She bit her cheek. Lots of people wear grey. But hikers didn't wear capes and there were no walking or riding trails on that part of Mount Grief anyway. Maybe he was lost.
The man stopped. Nell sank deeper into the undergrowth without taking her eyes off him. The cape was in the same style as the green one her father’s visitor had worn. She squinted and studied his appearance. Nell thought it odd that both men would wear such heavy capes in the hot tropics. The man at the house was a friend of her father. The man on the mountain might be too.
He stepped back and a gust of wind caught his cape. It opened a little to reveal a drab brown suit. He wasn't the same man who had visited her father but there was something familiar in his stance. He was as short and heavy as Carl. The grey hood obscured most of his face but what little skin she could see appeared as grey as his cape. Either he was wearing make-up or he was sick. His skin, like that of the other man, appeared scarred.
She refocused. A voice in her mind told her she had seen the man before. While she tried to remember, the strange-looking man spun his head from north to south and back again. As if something had angered him, he kicked his high, black boot into the ground.
Had he spotted her? Her heart leapt into her throat. All the terrors of her dreams flooded through her mind. Huh. That's where she had seen him. In her dreams. He had sent the bird-men after her. She blinked at the memory and bit her cheek. She was letting her imagination and her nightmares take over her life. She shook her head. In that instant, the man disappeared. She blinked again and sucked in the corner of her mouth. The man had vanished.
‘That can't be,’ she whispered. ‘No one'll believe it.’
‘Believe what?’ a voice sounded behind her.
Nell yelped and spun around, pushing her hand to her chest where her heart skipped every second beat.
Sam grinned down at her.
‘Why did you sneak up on me like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack.’
‘I wasn't sneaking. You should have heard my bike a mile off. The brakes squeak.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Why are you hiding in the bushes?’
‘I thought I saw someone.’ She frowned. Like the crocodile, she couldn’t say anything, even to her closest friend. They would all find out soon enough if she was going mad.
‘Yeah?’ He looked over her head. ‘Hikers aren't supposed to come this way. Which way did they go?’ Sam held out his hand to help Nell up.
She refused to take it. ‘I don't know.’ She couldn’t really tell him the man disappeared into thin air. ‘A frilly lizard ran past and caught my attention. When I looked back, he was gone.’
Sam picked up his bike and faced her. He wore his usual black polo shirt and blue jeans. He hadn't worn the red shirt she had given him for Christmas once.
Crossing her heels, she pushed with her feet to stand. An image of the str
ange man stayed in her mind and a chill travelled from her feet to her head. Sam still watched her, so she shrugged. ‘Someone must have walked over my grave.’ She frowned. ‘Why haven't you worn the shirt I gave you for Christmas?’
He gave her an over-dramatic look of innocence. ‘I didn't want to get it dirty.’
‘You think you’re so funny.’ She gave him a mock sneer. ‘Want a cold drink?’
‘You bet.’ He wiped the perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘A storm's on the way.’
Nell peered at the sky. ‘Hmmm, looks like a beauty.’
The dense clouds were nearly on top of them. Summer storms in the tropics could be short and intense or settle in and rain solidly for weeks.
Sam pushed his bike and Nell strolled alongside him in silence. She hadn't realised she'd gone so far along the path. The thought of not going to uni overshadowed everything. It didn't matter anyway. She couldn’t go anywhere, so it could rain as long as it liked. She picked up a coconut and threw it hard into the undergrowth. ‘It's not fair,’ she said.
‘What's not fair?’ Sam stopped.
‘Nothing in this whole world is.’ She picked up another coconut and hurled it as far as she could.
Sam laughed. ‘Come off it, it can't be that bad.’
‘Wanna bet? Dad said I can’t go to JCU or any other university. Not only that, but I can't even go far from the house. I can't go riding with you or the group from Mossman tomorrow. I'm in prison and I haven't even done anything. I'll never have any friends.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
Nell's eyes widened. ‘You know?’
‘Yeah, your dad rang Mum. She sent me over here to talk to you and don't worry about tomorrow, Dad's cancelled all rides and closed the trails.’
The swollen sky appeared to sag.
‘Why?’
‘Don't know. Probably gunna go walk-about again when he gets back from his trip. I just hope he doesn't expect me to go with him.’ Sam wrinkled his nose.
Nell couldn't help smiling. Sam hated camping out and he'd do anything to avoid going into the bush with his father, uncles and cousins. Football was his main passion, though music was high on his list.
‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘Dad wrote a new story and wants to know if you'd like to read it.’
Pictures from her nightmares jumped into Nell's mind. ‘No. I don't think I should. They're giving me nightmares lately.’ And making me see and hear things, she added silently.
Carl wrote everything from picture books to lengthy adult novels. Those stories she had listened to, read and loved all her life, now haunted her.
‘Nightmares?’ Sam snorted. ‘They're not that scary.’ He pushed his bike forward.
She took a step and her foot snagged on an exposed root. Something ripped above her. She looked up and cried out as a coconut fell towards her. She froze. Something smashed against her back. The next moment, she lay face down with a mouthful of sandy soil with Sam on top of her.
Feelings swamped her mind but they weren’t her feelings, they were Sam’s. His affection for her, his love of football, his love for his guitar, parents, horses, beach, mountain. She gasped and scrambled to get out from beneath him. ‘Get off,’ she grunted. He rolled off and she stayed still, staring at the dirt. What was that? Emotions filled her – her’s and Sam’s. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushed Sam’s away. She succeeded, but the memory of it all remained. A thread of fear wound through her chest.
She jumped up and spat out as much of the sandy earth as she could.
Sam laughed. ‘Now that’s attractive.’ He picked up his bike and waved his arm towards Nell's house. ‘Go on.’ When she hesitantly moved in front, he warned, ‘And stay in the middle of the path.’
‘Ha, ha,’ she threw back, but she wasn’t in a laughing mood. She sucked her cheek. What had happened? Of course, she already knew he loved all those things, but it was as if she had experienced Sam’s deepest feelings. Maybe it was female intuition. Friends since babies, she supposed there had to be some explanation. Growing older held a lot more surprises than she ever thought possible. The changes weren't only going to be physical. It made sense. She’d read somewhere that brains didn’t even finish maturing until people were in their early twenties.
As they silently continued to her house, Nell tried to relax. The thread of fear in her chest finally evaporated but a sense of foreboding grew in its place. That one had good reason for being there. Being confined to such a small area of Cape Hollow with the trail rides stopped gave her imagination full rein. She decided she’d just have to stop it from running away with her.
Feet crashed through the undergrowth behind them. She spun around.
‘Hey, you two,’ Carl called out.
Sam turned and waited.
The white hair on his temples contrasted with his dark Aboriginal skin. Short and stocky, he didn't look at all like Sam at first glance. Nevertheless, their open faces and laughing eyes were identical.
‘Hi, Carl,’ Nell said.
‘What’s up, Dad?’
‘Your mother wants some coconuts and she reckons the ones here are sweeter than the ones back there.’
Carl stepped close to Nell and ruffled her hair. ‘G'day, Nell girl.’
She smiled up at him, but he’d already moved his eyes up the mountain.
‘Seen anybody around?’ Carl said.
‘I haven't,’ Sam said. ‘But Nell thought she saw somebody before.’
‘Yeah? What did they look like?’ Carl put his hand on Nell’s shoulder.
Warmth and love filled her at his touch. ‘I'm not sure what I saw.’ The sensation from his hand altered. He was distressed about someone being around. ‘Are you worried?’ she asked.
Carl withdrew his hand. A little too hastily, she thought.
‘Worried? Um … yes. A big storm’s comin’ in.’ He eyed Nell as if he was trying to read her thoughts. ‘And … ah, if somebody's out there, they might get into trouble.’
Carl had never had trouble saying what he meant before. She searched his face for a clue to his behaviour. ‘If there was someone there,’ she said, tilting her chin towards the mountain. ‘They've gone now.’
Carl rubbed his stubbly, white whiskers. ‘Well, you two better get inside before the storm hits. It's gunna be a ripper.’ He turned north and marched away before either could reply.
‘What was all that about?’ Sam frowned at his father's retreating back.
‘I don't know, but your father seemed upset about a lot more than a stray hiker or the storm. Did you notice? He didn't get any coconuts.’
‘Good pick up. I'll get it out of him later.’ Sam resumed pushing his bike. ‘He's right about one thing though; we'd better get inside before we get drenched.’ He eyed Nell. ‘Again.’
Not saying anything, she nodded and fell in alongside her friend. She wondered why Carl took his hand off her shoulder so quickly. Why didn’t he want them to know he was worried about something? Did he realise she sensed his emotions when he touched her? As soon as the question formed in her mind, she snorted silently. Nah. That wasn’t possible. She’d better stick to reading sweet romances.
CHAPTER FOUR
NELL EMERGED FROM BEHIND A CLUMP OF COCONUT palms. Ducking back, she slammed her arm across Sam's chest. ‘Wait.’
‘Now what?’
‘Shh. Look, look. Someone's talking to Dad,’ she whispered, as she jabbed her finger at two people standing on the front veranda with her father. ‘I can’t see but Dad said his sister was going to come here. He didn’t say today though and he didn’t say anything about anyone else coming with her.’
‘You have an aunt? Why haven’t you mentioned her before?’
‘I only found out this morning. I think Dad’s been keeping a lot of secrets from me. Someone else was here when I came back from riding. A really strange man. He wouldn’t even let me see him but I got a peek. His skin was green.’
Sam laid his bike on the ground, ch
ortling. ‘Green, huh? What colour do you reckon those two are?’
Nell crossed her arms and stared hard at Sam. ‘Don’t laugh at me. I’m not making anything up.’ She gazed again at the two strangers. They wore long brown capes similar to the other visitor. ‘They’re dressed the same. Don’t you think it’s weird that three visitors arrive on the same day?’ Silently, she corrected herself. Four. And all wearing the same sorts of clothes.
‘I’d probably call it coincidence. Let’s get back to the green man and hurry up, it’s already lunch time.’
He reached out to put his hand on Nell’s forehead. She backed away. ‘Stop it, Sam. I’m not joking. He looked green and scarred. I figured he was in an awful accident.’
‘What? I’ve never heard of any accident turning someone green.’
‘Well, maybe a fire.’
After a small pause, Sam frowned. ‘Yeah, maybe. It might have had something to do with chemicals. I think copper can turn skin green but I wouldn’t have a clue how.’
Nell sighed. ‘Don’t worry about it. It was probably the light that made it look that way.’
Sam had finally stopped laughing at her so she didn’t want to give him a reason to start up again. She was glad she had kept the grey man on the mountain to herself.
Signalling with her hand for Sam to crouch beside her she wondered if the grey man was another secret of her father’s. Maybe all the visitors had something to do with her birthday? A surprise?
Sam gave her an impatient shrug. ‘This is stupid. Why don't we just go over there?’
‘Shh! I don't want them to hear us. I feel … ah … think Dad doesn't want me to see them yet.’ She was certain she was right. Her intuition was growing stronger, not by the year but by the second. She wondered if she had hit her head when she fell and raised her hand to her forehead. No lumps. A slight concussion might have explained her reactions.
‘We're too far away for them to hear us.’ Sam plopped onto the ground. ‘Anyway, what on earth are you on about?’