Secret in the Clouds

by Christopher Cummings

  Stephen had but was unwilling to admit it. He said, “Does that bother you?”

  Judy shook her head and snuggled against him, her right breast gently nuzzling his upper arm. “No, I think you are nice.”

  By now Stephen was getting aroused again, the silken touch of her thigh against his adding to this. The carnival had reached the stage where prizes were being awarded but that did not really concern him. His ‘house’ had come third and he had no trophies to collect. It was almost 3:00 pm by then and Stephen was now feeling very tense. He also felt tired and sun burnt. ‘Maybe I should have stayed at home,’ he pondered, considering what the night was going to bring.

  At the conclusion of the carnival there was cleaning up to be done. Stephen pulled on a shirt and stood up. “I’d better go home and have a rest,” he said.

  Judy stood up as well. “Please don’t go Steve. Please just tell the police, or someone.”

  Stephen shook his head. He had no faith the information wouldn’t be suppressed. “No, I’ve got to go.”

  He noted that Judy now had tears in the corners of her eyes. “I think you are stubborn and stupid!” she cried.

  “Sorry, but it’s something I have to do,” he replied, fidgeting with uncertainty about how to handle the situation. Without consciously doing it he found himself holding Judy. She sobbed on his shoulder and again begged him not to go.

  “I’m scared,” she said between sniffles. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’m scared too,” Stephen admitted. ‘And I don’t want to get hurt either!’ he thought, but he refrained from saying it.

  “Oooh!” Judy gasped. In her distress she clung tightly to him and began to kiss him. The taste of her tears mingled with a delicious flavour of girl.

  “Steady on,” Stephen said as she stopped. Looking over her shoulder he could see both students and teachers giving them amused and curious glances. It was the disapproving frown on Mr Burgomeister’s face that had the most effect. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more private,” Stephen suggested.

  They released each other and collected clothes and bags, then walked along in front of the grandstand. Both were still in their bathers. ‘Should we go and change first?’ he wondered. As they rounded the end of the pool he changed his mind. Nearby was a garden bed with large bushes. A concrete path led through it. Stephen went along it.

  As soon as they were behind the bushes he put down his clothes and turned to try to calm Judy down. He never got a chance to talk. She dropped her belongings and wrapped her arms around him. Their lips met in a passionate kiss. ‘Holy mackerel!’ he thought. ‘She must really like me!’

  With that he returned her kisses and held her tightly. Judy sighed and murmured and clung to him in a most arousing way. She pressed herself against him and kissed him with a fierce passion that set him on fire.

  ‘Holy Moses, she’s hot!’ he thought delightedly. For several minutes he surrendered to the sheer pleasure of it. His hands began to roam over her body. Through the thin nylon swimsuit she felt very firm and smooth and he had to restrain his natural urges. But he was now fully aroused and she became aware of it.

  “Sorry,” he murmured.

  “Don’t be,” she whispered back. “I want a boy friend with some hot blood in his veins.” With that she pressed against him. That sent a surge of blood pounding through Stephen and he gripped her hard. She moaned and kissed him even more passionately.

  “Hey!” called a voice. “Hey you two, don’t you know it’s against the school rules to do that sort of thing?” It was Wayne, from Stephen’s class. Stephen looked over Judy’s shoulder and saw half a dozen other students watching. The smirks and leering grins caused him to experience a surge of resentment.

  Judy turned and saw them, then poked her tongue. That caused jeers and laughter. She turned back to Stephen. “I wish could we meet later,” she whispered.

  “Can we?” he asked hopefully.

  Judy shook her head. “Sorry, but I am going to a concert with my family. Mum won’t let me change that. The tickets are booked and cost too much.”

  “I wish we could,” Stephen said, and he meant it. In the background he heard Mr Ritter’s voice asking what was going on.

  “So do I!” Judy cried. “Oh please, please be careful.” She kissed him gently and then stood away from him. Tears sparkled in her eyes but she tried hard to smile. Stephen found he was gasping for air as though he had been running a race. He was glad he still had his towel over his shoulder as he was able to ‘casually’ drape it so it covered his front.

  By then Mr Ritter had arrived. He looked suspiciously at them but just told everyone to get on with cleaning up. Stephen stood and held Judy’s hand for a minute, then moved to collect his clothes. Feeling very emotional he went off to change. Later he stood on the footpath outside with Judy until her mother came to collect her. Judy was very tense and he sensed she wanted to hold him and continue kissing. In the circumstances that wasn’t possible so they just looked at each other. Finally Judy gave him a quick, teary kiss and whispered, “Good luck. Please take care”

  Then she sobbed and was gone, climbing quickly into her mother’s car. Her mother gave Stephen an appraising look and then drove off. Stephen went over to where Graham, Roger and Peter were standing.

  Graham grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Tearful farewells over?” he asked.

  “Get stuffed!” Stephen replied, but without heat. He was now feeling very fragile emotionally. ‘Graham’s just jealous,’ he thought.

  “Everything ready for tonight?” Peter asked.

  “Yes,” Stephen replied.

  Peter turned to Roger. “You’re sure what to do Roger?” he asked. Roger was to hide two of their letters, addressed to the principal and to Capt Conkey. If he did not hear from them by Monday morning he was to hand them over. Other letters would go to an opposition member of parliament, newspapers, the state police, and to ASIO.

  Unable to discuss details because of other students, the friends left it at that. Stephen got his bike and rode slowly home, taking great care to stay on the footpath as much as possible. His thoughts and emotions were now a raging jumble, a mixture of Judy and the men. There was real fear there too. He admitted that to himself, knowing that if he thought about it too much it might paralyse his will to act.

  Safely at home he was relieved to find Tom there. As his parents weren’t yet home Stephen took the opportunity to pack the food and other items into his hiking gear and to hide spare clothing ready. Tom also prepared but they had to do it carefully in case they were being observed from a neighbouring house. The more entertaining events at the swimming carnival, suitably embellished, gave Stephen things to talk about with Tom while they prepared.

  Then Stephen’s parents came home and it became a game of pretence. Stephen found this very wearing on his nerves and by bed time he felt quite exhausted. Still trying to pretend everything was just normal old boring routine Stephen said goodnight to his parents, while being very conscious it might possibly be ‘goodbye’. Then, feeling very upset at the deception and pain he knew he was going to cause, he went into his room and switched off the light.

  For the next two hours he lay there in the dark, battling with his nerves and with the desire to sleep. He felt so strained and exhausted that he was afraid he would drop off. Lying there, alone with his thoughts, Stephen found he was trembling with nerves. ‘I hope I don’t turn out to be a coward,’ he thought anxiously.

  At last the clock showed it was 00:30. “Oh well, time to go,” he told himself. With an anxious sigh he slowly slid off his bed and stood up.

  CHAPTER 28

  DECEPTION

  Stephen silently dressed, his ears straining for any sound of his parents stirring. As he did his emotions churned: fear, self-loathing, excitement, regret. He felt that the worst thing was deceiving his parents. ‘They will be really hurt- again!’ he thought sadly. But he was sure it had to be done. Having dressed in bush clothes he st
raightened his bedclothes, then placed a letter on the bedspread. It would explain without giving away the plan and he hoped it would reassure his mother and father to some extent. It also asked them not to call in the police but he had strong doubts whether they would comply with that request.

  ‘They will soon guess what this is about,’ he decided. He shrugged. ‘Too late now.’ On that thought he silently opened his door and padded across the hallway in his socks. To his relief Tom was awake and lying on his bed fully dressed. At a nod Tom rolled off the bed, picked up his boots and followed Stephen into his bedroom.

  Here Stephen picked up his own boots then carefully and slowly opened his back window. He slipped the boots on unlaced and then climbed through. There was a bit of noise as his boots scuffed on the wall but he was able to lower himself into the crotons below without dropping with a thud. Tom followed and wasn’t quite so silent, earning a frown from Stephen. Stephen then tried to close his window but, as he feared, it let out a loud screech and he desisted. ‘Should have oiled it,’ he thought. He hadn’t because he had hoped to hear any assassin trying to open it.

  Outside it was cool and dark. The air had the delicious moist coolness of a tropical night. Nothing stirred. Stephen scanned the neighbouring house but it was in darkness. ‘Not even a stray cat,’ he noted. Satisfied they were unobserved he walked along the back of the house to the storeroom. A minute later he had passed out the packs and pulled on his webbing. By now his heart was beating fast with the excitement and he found his throat dry. ‘There is still time to back out,’ he thought. But he knew there wasn’t any real option. Tom was with him and Peter and Graham would be on the move as well.

  After another careful study of the houses on either side he led Tom across the back wall to the line of trees which lined the creek. Once in the enveloping shadows he sat on his pack and laced up his boots. Tom did likewise. They then hauled on the packs and set off. Stephen led. The creek was part natural- part drain. It was lined with rainforest trees which formed a tunnel overhead. On the far side, beyond the wall of vegetation, were more houses. The creek was only a trickle with a few ankle deep ponds.

  ‘Lucky it isn’t raining,’ Stephen thought as he groped his way down into the narrow rocky bed. After rain the creek ran in waist deep spate for hours and would be quite impassable for what they wanted. Down in the creek bed it was very dark. The trees hid the starlight and all he could make out was a faint circle of grey where it ran out into the open a hundred metres down. To Stephen the creek was an old friend. It had been his childhood playground and he knew almost every rock and tree root.

  Even so he had to go slowly as the rocks were wet and slippery and the going very uneven. For Tom, who had never been along it, it was even harder. Several times he slipped and fell. To his credit he did not more than let out a few muffled groans or curses. Stephen kept glancing at the luminous face of his watch. After ten minutes of snail-like progress he began to bite his lip with anxiety. In the plan he had allowed ten minutes to get from his bedroom to the next street and it had now taken fifteen.

  His anxiety increased as another five minutes slipped by and he and Tom only seemed to have stumbled and groped fifty paces. He heard several cars and even saw the headlights of one flicker across the distant clearing. ‘I hope that isn’t Pete,’ he worried. The plan was for them to be there before Peter. He tried to speed up. The result was a fall. A sharp whack to his knee by a rock brought tears of pain to his eyes and warned him to be careful. Tom also slipped over again, his pack clattering on the rocks. Stephen had a torch in his basic webbing but he did not dare take it out.

  01:00 came and went. ‘Late!’ Stephen fretted. He and Tom continued slowly down the tunnel of stumbles. Stephen was angry with himself now for miscalculating the time needed. It was with a sigh of relief that they reached the end of the trees. Here the creek became a grass lined drain which ran between the side fences of two houses. The local kids had trampled tracks through the waist high guinea grass but even so Stephen went slowly, having seen several snakes there over the years.

  The glow from a streetlight at the next intersection helped. Stephen glanced back and saw Tom following close behind, his face looking very drawn. Another car went past but it was going down the street and wasn’t Peter’s. It vanished and the sound of its engine died away. As they reached the street Stephen paused and listened. In the distance a dog was yapping but in their vicinity all was quiet. Nothing moved in the street or on the footpath.

  01:10. Stephen shook his head in annoyance and signalled Tom to follow. Now they had no choice but walk along the grassy footpath, passing under the next streetlight as they did. Walking fast but silently they quickly covered the next two blocks. Frequent glances over shoulders showed no sign of anyone watching or following. A right turn took them into a cul-de-sac. This had been chosen because it would be hard for any driver who might be trying to follow Peter to keep them under surveillance to just casually pretend to drive past. There had been no cars parked beside the road they had been following either.

  ‘There’s Pete,’ Stephen thought, seeing Peter’s car parked facing out of the court. As Stephen and Tom hurried towards it a figure got out: Graham. Doors and the boot were opened. Without a word Graham took their packs and shoved them into the boot while pushing them towards the back seat. By the time Stephen was seated in the car with the door closed the engine had been started and he heard the boot close with a muffled thud. Graham quickly took his place in the front beside Peter. As soon as he was in Peter let out the clutch.

  ‘We are off!’ Stephen thought, something like panic clutching at his throat. Now he was committed! Peter drove at a normal steady pace, turning right and then right again and then again to end up on Collins Avenue. There he went left, then right down a side street and then around two more blocks before suddenly pulling over and switching off the lights. No car followed them and Stephen began to feel slightly silly. ‘Is this drama or melodrama?’ he wondered wryly.

  Graham twisted round to look back. “I don’t think we are being followed,” he commented.

  Tom asked, “What if they have bugged your car with one of those radio transmitters that they can plot with a satellite tracking system?”

  “I thought of that,” Peter replied. “I had a look before I went to bed but couldn’t see anything.”

  Stephen was going to suggest that the men might have attached it after Peter went to bed. Instead he shook his head and said nothing. ‘Now I am getting paranoid,’ he told himself.

  Peter echoed his thoughts. “We don’t even know for sure that they are watching us,” he said as he switched the lights on and continued driving.

  “Better to be sure than sorry,” Graham replied.

  “You remember that next time you get Margaret in the bath with you,” Stephen joked.

  “Bite your bum!” Graham cried. “That was years ago. We were only little then.”

  “I heard Margaret tell Kylie you were quite big,” Stephen replied.

  At that Graham laughed. “I am, bigger than yours!”

  The feeble joking helped to ease the tension. Graham went on to comment about the swimming carnival. The gossip helped ease the strain. Stephen joined in willingly, glad that it diverted his thoughts from the fear of what lay ahead.

  Peter drove around several blocks and along side streets until he reached Anderson Street. Here he turned right and they drove along the all but deserted street to the lights at Mulgrave Road. By then there was a vehicle behind them but it appeared to be a cleaner’s van. They turned right into Mulgrave Road and headed south. The cleaner’s van followed but turned off at a shopping centre and they had the street to themselves as they drove through Earlville and on through Woree.

  “Police car!” Graham said. Stephen went tense. The police car was coming the other way along the multi-lane highway and to his relief it just went on north towards the city. As they sped around the hill at White Rock Stephen began to relax. There were onl
y a few vehicles moving, mostly trucks. A couple of sets of headlights came into view behind them but Peter drove at the speed limit and the lights did not catch up.

  One of the following vehicles turned off at Edmonton. Two more stayed with them but were a long way back. Being on the Bruce Highway this was only to be expected. There was nothing they could do about it so they just drove on. By now they were out in open farmland and Peter drove at 100kph. It was a pleasant night but Stephen could see dark clouds piling up on the coastal mountains. ‘Rain shouldn’t bother us,’ he thought. They were going a long way inland.

  At 0145 they turned left off the Bruce Highway at Gordonvale. Peter drove into the sleepy little sugar milling town to the first intersection, then did a U-turn and again stopped and switched off the lights. No car followed them and the cars which had been behind them on the highway continued on southwards. After waiting a couple of minutes they drove back to the Bruce Highway and across it. This put them on the Gillies Highway.

  “The advantage of local knowledge,” Peter commented as they sped along the highway. Normally Stephen loved this drive. He considered the Mulgrave Valley to be the most beautiful part of Australia, but now he was gripped by tension and found the looming mountains more threatening than comforting.

  Seven minutes of driving along the winding road through rain forest on the mountain side had them at Petes Bridge. They turned left and went across the bridge, then abruptly swung right under the trees of the river bank and turned off the lights. Again they waited and watched to check if they were being followed. While they waited they entertained Tom with the story of how they had found the old gold mine up at the headwaters of the Mulgrave, then of the trek up over the mountains in the cyclone.

  That rankled with Stephen. ‘Bloody Graham!’ he thought crossly. ‘Always has to be the bloody hero!’