by Darry Fraser
Her knees were weak and her feet were sluggish but she forced herself to turn back towards the bank. She found a clear place, a gentle slope, and dropping to her backside she slid down a way. In the fading light she found a little knoll with a slight hollow. She crawled into it, and slumping, she eased her clenched fist open and the shoulder strap fell to her chest.
The ringing in her ears still clanged with her heartbeat but it was slowing up. Her head was heavy, her neck sore, and it seemed her body just wanted to lay itself down. So she gave in, and down she went, rolling onto her side. In the dirt, she gathered her bag close with both arms, and closed her eyes.
The dog had been barking. Goodness, Bucky was loud today. ‘Shoosh, Bucky,’ she said, raising her voice over the top of him. ‘Shoosh, you’ll wake everybody.’ Her mouth felt funny as if her tongue wasn’t working.
Shaking. Someone was shaking her. A murmur of words. She could hear a murmur of words. Her eyes popped open. There was no Bucky. Smoke was close.
The sun glowed dusky pink through the trees. A fire crackled nearby, throwing its low light. Maggie nearly cried out when she saw it a little distance away, merrily burning without a care for all its menace.
Then she focused on the person who was shaking her arm as he beamed at her.
‘Very loud kangaroo.’
Maggie’s head hurt as if she was parched. On her hands and knees at the river’s edge, she scooped handfuls of water but couldn’t get enough into her to make the thirst go away. The scrapes on her hands stung, and the scratches on her face pulled when she moved. Her legs still wobbled, and it seemed every ache she could have had in her body was paining now.
Nara studied Maggie’s face and hands and declared, ‘Not too bad. There’s really nothing to treat.’
‘How did you get here?’ Maggie blurted through thick lips.
‘We decided that if we had to hide for a bit,’ Nara said, ‘we might as well follow you.’ She pointed to where their canoe was wedged between the trees up on the bank.
Only big enough for two people, it was nevertheless a fine, sturdy craft. They used it for fishing back home. The first time Maggie had gone out on the river with Nara, she’d fallen overboard and Nara, laughing, had quickly hauled her back into the canoe. Though Maggie could swim, the river wasn’t safe. The day had ended with Wadgie chuckling at her sodden clothes as she tramped, unhappy with herself, back to Olivewood. There’d been more successful days fishing since, without any unintended dunkings.
Maggie’s hearing was woolly, but she understood Nara and nodded. ‘I’m glad you did. Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m very happy to see that little craft again.’
Alarmed, Nara held out both hands. ‘You’re loud. Speak soft.’
‘Sorry,’ Maggie whispered, not realising her voice had risen.
Nara spoke softly into her ear. ‘We seen you get on board that boat. Followed for two, three days, kept out of sight, just in case of trouble. We reckoned you’d be all right ’til we smelled the smoke. We knew that old cap’n wouldn’t keep going downriver, that he’d turn back. But then, boom. By the time we got there, the fire had burned back. Wadgie picked up your tracks easy.’
‘I had no idea where I was going, was just hoping it was away from the fire.’ Maggie pressed Nara’s hand. ‘We seem to get into some scrapes, you and me.’
‘Nothin’ like this. Always just fun stuff, but now …’ Nara shrugged and shook her head. ‘We’ll stay with you, at least ’til we know what’s going on.’
‘What will you two do?’
Tucking her dress between her knees, Nara sat back on her haunches. ‘We didn’t hear nothin’ about no murder before we left, so we gonna sneak back and see what we can find out.’ She lifted a shoulder. ‘Maybe Lucy in the kitchen has heard something by now.’
‘Should you risk going back there?’
‘We’re good people, we should be able to keep our jobs. We been there a long time, Maggie, you and me. Boyd was the evil one, and he’s gone—good riddance.’ Her voice drifted off. ‘Mrs Chaffey is good too. Don’t worry. We’ll find out.’
Maggie didn’t feel happy about staying close to Renmark. ‘I’ll still move on.’
Nara nodded, agreeing. ‘You have family, go to them. They’ll be waitin’ for you. I remember your ma. She’s a good person too. And your pa. Kind people. We need more kind people.’
Maggie blinked hard, felt her dry skin stretch. ‘You should come with me, you and Wadgie.’
‘We like it here. Maybe you’ll come back one day.’
‘When I’m old and grey, and no one recognises me.’
Nara squeezed Maggie’s hand. ‘And we’ll be friends even then, gettin’ up to mischief.’ She turned suddenly as something caught her eye.
Maggie gasped until she saw it was Wadgie. He’d disappeared earlier, and returning now with his reed net, he happily waved a decent-sized fish. He poked a couple of long sticks into it and set it over the campfire. Freshening up the coals with his breath, a little flame leapt and soon his skewered catch was grilling. A few minutes later, he said something to Nara. She reached over and took a piece of cooked fish from him, offering it to Maggie.
‘Perhaps after,’ Maggie said, her tongue thick again, her headache thumping now. ‘I have to sleep some more.’
Not trusting herself enough to stand and walk, she crawled to a tree with branches still thick with leaves, found a comfortable spot and slipped to her side.
Nara followed her, and after tucking Maggie’s bag into her arms, she leaned down and patted her shoulder. ‘Sleep. We’re here.’
‘You sure the big fire’s finished?’ Maggie asked.
‘It’s finished, don’t worry.’ Another couple of pats on her shoulder. ‘Sleep.’
‘Wait. What about Bucky?’
‘With the missus.’
Oh good.
Nara squatted beside her. ‘In the morning, after food,’ she said, ‘we’ll go back to that village and let them people help you.’ She indicated the direction upriver with a thumb over her shoulder. ‘Wadgie and me, we’ll return to Renmark, keep out of sight, but if the troopers do come lookin’, we’ll move a bit upriver.’
Maggie wanted to protest about going back to Lyrup but it was the only sensible thing for her to do, and for Nara and Wadgie, who shouldn’t have to keep an eye on her. Besides, weariness was upon her and her head was heavy. No point being silly about it. She knew she’d have some chance buying passage on another boat going downriver from Lyrup without having to go back to Renmark.
She hugged her bag. Maggie’s last thought was how happy she felt to hear the crinkle of her letter to Sam.
Sixteen
She couldn’t tell what noise she’d heard, her ears were ringing so loudly. A bird? A magpie, perhaps. Waiting a moment to adjust, Maggie steadied herself on the fallen log she’d slept beside before tottering to her feet. Blinking into the sunshine, she guessed it was about midmorning. A tentative step towards the river tested her balance; the muscles in her legs remained tight and sore, but they’d ease with movement. Dusty, thirsty, knowing she needed to bathe, she crept closer to the water.
No sign of Nara and Wadgie. A chance look around, and nothing seemed amiss. The little cooking fire wasn’t smoking, but it was aglow, ready to be teased into flame. The canoe was still on the bank, so her two companions would not be far away.
Plopping on her backside, she stared at her boots. Oh dear. They would have to come off. Roughly scuffed and dirty, the pliant leather was still holding together at the seams. She pulled at the laces, which she’d tied sturdily so many days ago, and eased them open, tugging them from her feet. Oh, heaven. Her toes wiggled. Dismayed, she found her stockings had not held up as well as the boots. No matter. A hole here and there was certainly nothing to cry over now. The toes of her hose were intact, but ladders ran all the way down to them. This pair wouldn’t last much longer, but that didn’t matter either. She could sew …
Her bag. Craning h
er neck, she could just see it tucked under the log where she’d slept. Relieved by the sight of it, she edged towards the water and sunk her feet. More heaven.
While her toes squiggled deep into the mud, she cupped her ears and listened to the hum in them. Lord, was she to be deaf forever? It brought a little thud to her belly. How would a deaf woman manage to survive—a deaf woman running for her life, after bashing a man and killing him? A sob escaped but no tears, thank goodness. She had only a little sound getting through her stubborn ears. Perhaps they just required more time to heal after the blast.
The blast. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had hearing loss, but she still had her life. Not like those two poor men on the Lady Goodnight.
Smarten up, Maggie O’Rourke. It was her mother’s voice again. How she wished her mother was here now. Well, Eleanor was sort of here—in her head she could hear her mother’s lilting voice. So, smarten up she would. She had things to do—if she ever found her way out of the bush.
Of course she would find her way out. Nara and Wadgie would make sure of it. But what was taking them so long?
She looked around again. All alone, she was, in this great expanse of bush. Deaf, or mostly. A little trill of alarm beat in her chest. Hurriedly, she pulled her feet from the water, shook off the muddy sand and wiped them on the hem of her dress. Pushing away from the edge, she drew on her ragged stockings and thrust her feet into the boots. She scrambled back to the log where she’d left her bag, and dropped alongside, hoping she was out of sight. Her hands shook as she retied her bootlaces and settled back.
Why is my heartbeat racing again?
She reached out and grabbed her bag. Cradling it against her chest, she made herself as small as possible and waited.
It was late afternoon and hours had passed, it seemed, before Nara and Wadgie finally came back. Maggie had kept snug against the log and had only moved to ease her cramped limbs, or to scoot away from a line of ants determined to track over her.
Maggie watched as Nara knelt in the sand and blew on the coals, laying some fine leaves and twigs over the top and waiting until the lick of flame appeared.
‘Where have you been?’
‘Just checking around,’ Nara said, giving Maggie a quick look as she moved to sit beside her. ‘You been scared?
‘A little bit. Don’t know why.’
Leaning closer to Maggie’s ear, Nara said, ‘Nothin’ to be scared of.’
‘True. Or at least, nothing to be scared of right now.’
Nara sat back, a look of mild surprise on her face. ‘Since when you ever been scared? Never once, not even when your parents left and you was here by yourself.’
‘But you and Wadgie and I were already friends by then.’
‘We were. I remember that first time you came down to the hut. I was so surprised to see a lady from the big house, I nearly fell over.’
Maggie laughed. ‘You did not, and I’m no lady. Your cooking pot smelled so delicious, I couldn’t resist coming, even though Mrs Chaffey was worried I’d disappear, never to return.’
‘Hah, not the missus. She’s a game one, too. And there you were, large as life, askin’ me where to find berries and the like.’
‘I knew you’d know. I knew it would be good for our kitchen to have some bush food. And don’t forget that Lucy was at Olivewood by then. So I wasn’t all by myself.’
Nara wagged a finger. ‘Don’t change things around. You weren’t scared when the creek come up that time,’ she said. ‘And all dressed in Sunday best you went in to grab them two silly kids out of the water.’
‘Someone had to, and I was closest by far. Wadgie was off rabbiting, and you were up at the house in the laundry.’
Not to be put off, Nara said, ‘What about when that horse bolted pulling the cart while young Miss Margaret was tryin’ to drive?’
Maggie rolled her eyes. ‘Young Miss Margaret would have been in bad trouble except for you and me, and not just from the horse bolting. From her mother, too.’
Nara gave a short laugh. ‘But you, Miss Maggie, could have got yourself killed running in after it.’
‘And you, Miss Nara, were there as well, remember?’ Maggie smiled recalling Nara’s gleeful shout and poor Margaret’s terrified squeals. ‘You jumped on the cart to haul on the reins.’ Maggie rubbed her stiffened fingers, letting go of the bag. ‘I’m not scared of things outside of myself, not when I think of those adventures. I’m more scared of things inside.’
‘I dunno what that means.’
Maggie agreed. ‘You wouldn’t, I know. You’ve never been scared of anything.’
‘Scared of that Boyd when he bashed Wadgie for no damn reason.’ She folded her arms over her belly and rocked a little.
‘Nara, you swore.’
‘Not scared of doin’ that, neither,’ Nara said, and snorted. ‘Or bashing him back. But you did that, not me. You’re not scared, Maggie, you’re just unsure of all this.’ Nara waved her hand around, and Maggie knew she didn’t mean just of the bush.
‘I seem to be unsure of everything. How do you get sure?’
Nara patted her shoulder. ‘Do like always. We make up our minds and get the job done,’ she said. ‘You are sure about leavin’ here, though, so you just have to find the best way to do it. Then you won’t think about being afraid.’
‘You’re helping me to leave. I’m not doing it all by myself.’
‘What else would we do? You’d help us. You already have anyway, just by being a friend. People look at me, at us, different because of you.’ Nara gripped Maggie’s hand. ‘I mighta been living near Olivewood when you arrived, but I wouldn’t have got the job if you hadn’t been there. And when Mr Chaffey is home, you know that he likes Wadgie to come work every so often in the packin’ shed. That wouldna happened before we were friends.’
‘And now look. No job for any of us.’
Nara tut-tutted. ‘We dunno that. When we go to Olivewood, we’ll see. No need to worry about me and Wadgie.’ She looked over at him at the campfire and back again. ‘You have been a good friend when a lot of others haven’t.’ Nara patted Maggie’s hands in loose slaps then stood up, cupping her belly and smiling wide, her small form in profile. ‘You are the first besides Wadgie to hear the news.’
Maggie hadn’t noticed the roundness there before. She gazed, speechless.
Nara, whose eyes widened in delight, tapped her stomach. ‘A Wadge is coming. Maybe a strong girl who’ll make her way in the world.’
‘Like you will,’ Maggie said. ‘You both will.’
‘And you,’ Nara insisted.
She couldn’t stop herself. ‘But … aren’t you afraid, Nara?’
‘Of what?’
Maggie thought then of what she was really afraid of, and the stories she’d heard. The little lives lost before they were born, the cruel births, mothers dead leaving tiny babies with no one to feed them, babies dying after they were born. ‘Of birthing, and all the things that can go wrong …’ She began to feel breathless.
Nara shook Maggie’s shoulder a little. ‘I’m afraid of nothin’.’ She looked across at her husband once more, then back to Maggie. ‘And neither are you, remember?’
Wadgie, skewering a good-sized Murray cod over the low flames, must have said something and Nara responded. She turned to Maggie and, leaning close to her ear again, said, ‘After food, we’ll sleep. Just before sun up, we’ll head for Lyrup.’
Nara looked at Wadgie when he waved for attention. As he spoke, he held up two fingers and waved them at the canoe, and kept speaking. All Maggie could hear was a low cadence.
Nara said, ‘You an’ me, Maggie, we’ll take the canoe, and Wadgie will run. Two more sleeps to the village.’
Perhaps they were now keen to get her back, not wanting the responsibility after all that had happened, and rightly so, too. Apart from Maggie being a burden, with a baby on the way they would need to look after themselves, as it should be.
A baby. Now that was true br
avery.
But going back to Lyrup. No point feeling any trepidation about it; Maggie wouldn’t have survived at all out here without these two. Crashing about in the bush for much longer by herself in any direction wouldn’t have done her much good. She’d likely have been a dead very loud kangaroo before the week was out.
The only thing that she could do now was survive, get her hearing back—of course it will return—and make a life for herself. Somewhere. She would secure passage downriver and all would be well—for Ellie Lorkin. She need not be afraid about that.
She pressed a hand to her chest and felt for the soft leather purse. All would be well.
At dawn’s light, Nara and Wadgie already had the canoe at the water’s edge. Wadgie flashed his great grin when Maggie attempted to get in it. He was saying something to her but his voice was too soft.
She’d taken off her boots and stockings and had stood in the water, trying to take the best opportunity to launch herself on board without ending up on the other side. At home, she’d done it plenty of times before—it shouldn’t have been difficult, but Nara had always stood on the other side as she’d climbed in. Not here, though. The river here was much deeper compared to the creek at home. Laughter erupted from Wadgie as the canoe wobbled and threatened to tip until she sort of slid in. She heard another shout of laughter, then he said something, smiling broadly.
‘He says he can’t help it. You make him laugh,’ Nara said up close, and smiled just as broadly as her husband.
‘Wonderful,’ Maggie replied, and then let a laugh go, too.
Wadgie steadied the craft with his gnarly lean hands and, finally settled, Maggie gathered her possessions and took the crude paddle from him. He showed her what to do by crouching as if he were in the canoe.
The canoe rocked as Nara climbed in. Maggie sucked in a breath and Wadgie laughed again. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she heard him say in his gravelly voice. She was sure he was still chuckling as he made his way over to check the fire was completely out. He kicked more dirt over it, then he waved them off.