by Jack Dey
This could only be bad news.
He tensed and answered the call, “Hello, Debbie, what’s happening?”
“Hello, Mister Anderson. This is Major Gwennie Stevens of the Salvation Army. I am calling on behalf of Charlie’s mum, Debbie.”
“What’s happened to Charlie?!” Damon demanded.
“Charlie is still the same. She hasn’t responded to medication and the hospital wants to try a procedure that has some risks.”
“What procedure…?! What risks?!” Damon was becoming frantic.
Gwennie spent the next five minutes explaining the procedure as Doctor Fields had explained it to Debbie.
Damon ran his hands through his hair and blew out a breath. “What if we do nothing?”
“Damon, I am not a doctor, but as Doctor Fields put it, she may stay catatonic. Would you like to speak with Debbie?”
“Yes, please, put her on.”
Damon could tell straight away why Gwennie had called him. Debbie was a mess.
“What are your thoughts on this, Debbie?” Damon probed.
Debbie began to quaver, “I don’t know, Damon. I just don’t know.”
“I need some time to think about this. I will give you a call back in a few hours and then we can discuss it some more, okay?”
Debbie’s relieved voice agreed. “Thank you, Damon.”
He stabbed the end button with his thumb and the phone went dead. Damon opened the hatch to the galley. He needed to think this through.
“You want coffee, Skipper? New pot just made,” Johnny called up to him.
“Yeah, Johnny. Have you got a couple of minutes to have a chat over a cup?”
“Sure, will make time, just pour another cup. Come sit and tell old Johnny what on mind.”
This wasn’t the first time Damon had sought the counsel of Johnny. He always had a different angle on things and his wisdom in time of trouble never ceased to amaze him. Johnny had asked about Missy Boss on every passing occasion and after each phone call Damon had made to the hospital. Damon outlined the whole situation and the old man’s face crumpled with concern, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
“Damon not have too much choice in this situation. Come, let us commit your heavy burden to Jesus and see what He do.”
He was used to Johnny openly praying and although the prayers brought some comfort, he didn’t know how much good they would be, but he could use all the help he could get at the moment.
“Dear Lord Jesus, I bring my loved family before You and ask You to give Damon clear mind on direction You want him to go. Missy Boss in hospital and needs You to visit and bring her mind back to herself.”
Damon could feel a warm presence as the old man prayed, and opened his eyes and looked around, expecting to see someone else present. Johnny continued for some time, tears streaming down his face, while Damon felt the burden lifting and suddenly, he knew what to do. Leaving Johnny to continue his prayer, Damon dialled the number on his mobile phone. It rang twice and then connected.
Debbie’s anxious voice answered, ”Hello!”
“Debbie, we have to go ahead. I don’t know how, but I think it will be okay.”
*~*~*~*
CHAPTER 32 - THURSDAY ISLAND 1882
In the early morning light, three forlorn figures stood in silence at the drawing room window, staring down at the bay. Eight schooners had hoisted their sails, pulled up anchor and one by one, made their way out of the harbour. Elaine’s face furrowed in deep concern and a small tear formed in the corner of her eye and dropped in slow motion to the floor.
Elizabeth put her arm around her mother. “Father will be alright. He has a good crew and John is not far away,” she comforted.
Sissy rubbed Elaine’s arm. “They will be safe, Mother, you’ll see.”
The sound of Sissy calling her mother and the two girls speaking words of comfort warmed her heart.
“Well, we have a wedding to organise,” Elaine sighed, trying to appear bright and wiping away another tear. Elaine stood between her daughters, put her arms around both girls and led them into the dining room to start preparations.
The chatter in the dining room was continuous. Sissy brought out her wedding dress that she had carefully packed into a trunk. The trunk had been recently delivered from the steamer she herself had just arrived on a few days ago. Sissy held it against her figure and the women affirmed her choice with much admiration. The lace work was exquisite. The day slipped past so quickly, the women didn’t notice the time.
Sissy suddenly gasped.
“What is it?” Elaine asked, concerned.
“Oh no...! We don’t have a minister to conduct the marriage,” Sissy said, castigating herself. “I was supposed to find someone local, because none of the ministers in Brisbane wanted to travel up here.”
Elizabeth glanced at Elaine, an eager thought playing with her mind. ”Merinda’s father is a minister… and he is a lovely man, too,” she added.
“Your father did not want you going down into the village with that person on the loose,” Elaine, realising where Elizabeth’s mind was going, reminded her.
“I don’t think he would try anything with Merinda’s father around, Mother. Besides, I would love you both to meet Aunty Rosa and Merinda’s parents. We can ask Warrammarra when we get there to do the officiating,” Elizabeth pleaded.
“I do think it would be alright if we all went, Mother,” Sissy added her voice and smiled at Elizabeth.
“And Mister Davis is safely aboard a schooner, so I will not have to endure his stares,” Elizabeth declared.
“Davis’ stares?!” Sissy repeated, looking bewildered.
“I will explain as we go... if Mother agrees,” Elizabeth responded.
Elaine reluctantly agreed to their outing at the urging of her daughters. The three ladies changed their clothes and made themselves ready to take the journey into town and onto the village.
The chatter and laughter drew some pondering looks as they walked. Passing by the Colonial Inn, Elizabeth remembered, “And this is where Merinda and I last had the misfortune to run into... Mister Davis.”
Elaine chided Elizabeth for her lack of respect towards Davis.
“Excuse me for being forward, Mother, but it sounds like Mister Davis is the one with the respect issues,” Sissy espoused.
“Now that you point that out, Sissy, it does show signs of a sorely lacking gentleman,” Elaine thought out loud, her demeanour changing toward Davis.
The three women turned into the village and came upon Nirrimi and Warrammarra’s hut. Elizabeth walked up to the door and knocked loudly.
Nirrimi opened the door and smiled big. “Elizabeth!” she announced, hugging her.
“This is my mother, Elaine, and my new sister, Sissy. This is Merinda’s mother, Nirrimi,” Elizabeth said tenderly.
“Welcome, ladies... please come in.” Nirrimi’s smile was infectious and she made Sissy and Elaine feel at ease immediately.
“This my neighbour, Tameka,” Nirrimi introduced.
The chatter was infectious as all the ladies became entangled in the news of the upcoming wedding, all excitedly vying to be heard.
“Where is Warrammarra?” Elizabeth finally asked Nirrimi.
“He is out with Patch repairing one of the huts. A tree fell on the roof and damaged some of the tin sheets,” Nirrimi explained.
Elizabeth’s face clouded at the mention of Patch, and Nirrimi noticed.
“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” Nirrimi enquired.
The ladies fell silent at Nirrimi’s question and Elizabeth recounted the story Davis had told her father. Tameka’s mind recalled the same story from the Colonial Inn, realised that Patch was the offender and when Elizabeth had finished telling Davis’ version, she spoke up.
“That’s not what happened at all, Elizabeth,” Tameka broke the silence.
Elizabeth and Elaine looked stunned. “What do you mean, Tameka?”
“
I was on duty that morning at the Colonial. I just happened to be next door, cleaning a vacant room at the time and my trolley was parked in the alcove and I heard every word. This is what really happened. Patch knocked loudly on the door and waited for a response. Davis opened his door, eyed Patch and impatiently said, ‘Yes?!’ Then Patch said, ‘My name is Philip Belgrade, sir. As gentlemen, I have come to importune gentlemanly conduct upon your personage regarding Miss Elizabeth Jennings. I am requesting that you re-evaluate your behaviour and respond in a manner toward Miss Jennings befitting a gentleman.’ Davis sounded stunned and it took a while for him to reply to Patch’s accusations. Once he realised what Patch was on about, Davis became furious. ‘Who do you think you are lecturing me on Elizabeth Jennings?!’ Patch repeated, ‘I have already told you who I am.’”
Tameka laughed. “Patch removed his glove in front of Davis and slapped Davis’ face.”
The other four women gasped.
Tameka continued, “Davis became even more furious, when he realised he had just been challenged to a duel. ‘You are challenging me to a duel in today’s age?! People just don’t do that anymore,’ I gather from the silence that Davis was struggling with the notion and then Patch went after him again. ‘I have already done so, sir. Or are you ignorant to the ways of gentlemen?’”
Tameka broke out in giggles and found it hard to gather the thread, then she settled again and continued, “Patch then added calmly, ‘I doubt the choice of weapons on this small island will be great, so I suggest fists.’ The stunned silence from Davis said it all and Patch challenged him again. ‘Are you going to be a brave gentleman and accept my challenge or are you going to bravely decline?’"
Tameka fought hard to control a misbehaving giggle and continued, “Davis must have stepped quickly backwards and slammed the door in Patch’s face. The last thing I heard Patch say before he turned and walked out was, ’Just as I thought.’”
The room was in stunned silence.
Tameka’s face took on a pensive look. “The thing I don’t understand though, two hours later he turned up and apologised to Davis for his unchristian behaviour. Davis told him not to try anything or he would set the constabulary - I think that is what he said - onto Patch. Davis just scornfully laughed at him, calling him a coward, and then slammed the door in his face.”
Elizabeth’s face was flushed and indignant. She had believed a lie and judged a man brave enough to stand up for her dignity and found him wanting.
Tameka sighed and continued, “Your Mister Davis, Elizabeth, is not a nice man. He treats the housekeeping staff like dirt, as well.”
Nirrimi, seeing Elizabeth’s shocked expression, reached into the conversation on Patch’s behalf, “Patch really is a good man who saw someone being treated unjustly, and maybe a little unwisely, acted before he prayed. Warrammarra counselled him on his mistake and he was dreadfully sorry for going about it all wrong.”
Elizabeth turned to Tameka and hugged her. “Thank you for telling that story. I would have believed a lie about a good man otherwise.”
Nirrimi could see the wheels turning in Elizabeth’s mind, thankful Tameka had been present to set the truth in order. As the tension stifled conversation in the room, Nirrimi suggested a good hearted visit to the warmth and wisdom of Aunty Rosa.
“Why don’t we all go over to Aunty’s hut and visit with her?” she suggested.
Elizabeth’s face brightened and her smile returned. She hadn’t seen Aunty for days and the thought of a visit was well received. Elizabeth danced along with the group of ladies, chattering as they went. Still pondering Tameka’s revelation, she directed a question to Nirrimi.
“Do you think Warrammarra will officiate at Sissy and John’s wedding?”
Nirrimi’s smile was huge. “I will let him answer your question, but I would say he would be more than delighted.”
*~*~*~*
CHAPTER 33 - THURSDAY ISLAND 1882
The sun sank in a blaze of red fire down over the western horizon. The dying rays spilled golden orange light against the darkening sea, while the late afternoon air had a chill that sent a shiver down his back. The winter days were short, but warm and clear. Perfect for the pearl shell harvest ahead. The sea was calm and the vessel hardly moved at anchor, up against the protection of the reef. His thoughts were with another beauty and Sissy’s soft and gentle face came into his mind’s eye. His longings for the woman he loved tugged at his heart.
He turned from the railing of the Morning Rose and peered out to the darkening east. He could just make out the outline of the Precious Pearl, anchored about a mile away in another part of the reef, her swimmer boats hanging from their davits and the three masts silhouetted against the evening sky. The cabin lanterns were beginning to illuminate the vessel’s lower deck, their light escaping through the line of open windows out into the darkness and giving the illusion of a glowing smile, set down against the dark waterline.
John wondered how his father had coped with the new technology and the heavy diving suit. His own efforts had been met with some success, although becoming acquainted with the heavy, cumbersome suit and walking on the ocean floor with leaded shoes was more difficult than he imagined. John cast his mind back over the day’s operation.
First, he'd powdered his hands and feet, stepped into the canvas bag lying on the deck and pulled it up over himself. His feet had slipped into the rubber shoes, with some exertion, then the hands, after finding the rubber finger openings. Buckles clamped the top of the canvas together. The heavy, bronze, rubber-sealed apron that the helmet screwed onto, fitted down over his shoulders, covering his chest and back and his head poked through a hole in the centre. A rope was attached to the front of the apron to allow the diver to be pulled up, lowered down, or towed to another spot. The bronze helmet was then fitted over his head and screwed down onto the apron, producing an airtight seal. The airline attached to the back of the helmet was thoroughly checked, making sure it was secure.
Finally, the heavy leaded boots had been attached over his rubber shoes and secured in place with heavy canvas straps. The hand driven air compressor was operated and John had given the thumbs up, when he felt the air come through and into his suit. He had reached behind his helmet and tweaked the air pressure valve, anticipating the thumb screw handle would turn freely. He'd smiled and nodded his head at his assistant through the clear window in the front of the helmet. All worked well.
He remembered the effort it took to drag the heavy, lead shoes across the deck and the noise it made as he'd shuffled over to the side. Then he’d taken a hold of the mast rigging ropes to steady himself, and carefully climbed up and over the railing. A small rope ladder hung over the side and down into the water. He had climbed down the ladder, aided by his crew using the rope attached to his suit, and lowered himself over the edge of the schooner, then descended slowly onto the ocean floor below.
The man assigned to the hand compressor had slowly turned the two-foot-diameter, iron-spoke wheel attached to the compressor’s crankshaft. In turn, the crankshaft rotated and the compressor pistons moved up and down, and forced air into the airline and then into the divers suit below the water. Bubbles had escaped from the pressure relief valve. John remembered the trouble he’d had with his ears, equalising the pressure and he had swallowed hard to clear the pressure build-up in his head. Once he’d mastered the art of pressure equalisation, he then adjusted the relief valve, giving himself buoyancy and some ability to move on the sea floor, without blowing up and floating back towards the surface.
He'd walked slowly over to the reef, his heavy shoes dragging in the coral sand of the sea floor, kicking up swirls of coral dust as he walked. John then began removing pearl shell and placing it in the net lying close by. He smiled as he remembered the schools of nervous reef fish, curious at the bubbles and his slow moving shape, flitting by him, suddenly darting off in unison at any movement. A four foot long reef shark had even circled just above John’s head and he
'd reached up and stroked its belly. The shark, indignant at the touch, had swished its powerful tail and speedily disappeared.
When he had looked up toward the shallower reef, he could see the dark shape of the schooner and the swimmer boats anchored above. His free divers were taking shell from about sixty feet and he could see them clearly, even from a hundred feet down. The clarity of the water allowed the sunlight to reach down to the reef around him, clearly highlighting the pearl shell. John had come across a good patch of shell and filled his net quickly. Once full, he’d taken hold of the tow line attached to the apron on his suit and pulled it twice. The attendant, recognising the signal, began lifting the net to the surface. Soon after, his tow line pulled twice and the empty net descended back down to him. The system of signals was used across the pearling industry, making it easy for anyone to attend to the requirements of any diver, on any vessel.
The smell of food cooking wafted out to meet John, his empty stomach taking precedence over his thoughts and he followed the aroma below deck, into the galley. He filled out his personal journal for the day, before retiring for the night.
*~*~*~*
The three women had had a wonderful time with Aunty. Elaine, like Elizabeth, had been drawn immediately to the warmth of the old lady and Elaine had promised to visit her again soon. The glow that encompassed Aunty and her hut drew a thirsty soul like a moth to a light. The invitation to be loved and accepted, without condition, always made people open up to her. Aunty’s laugh was as big as her hugs, peppered with kindly wisdom.
Merinda found the group of ladies at Aunty’s and was immediately drawn into the festive atmosphere. Elizabeth introduced Sissy and the flame of friendship between the three young women caught on like wildfire and they chatted like they had known each other all their lives.
The late afternoon came all too quickly. The long shadows alerted Elaine to the twenty minute walk back to the house and she did not want the girls and herself to be walking after dark. Warrammarra was still working with Patch on the roof of the damaged hut when the women set off for the Jennings’ house. Nirrimi promised that she would send Warrammarra to talk with Sissy regarding the wedding plans, at the house in the morning.