by Peter Ness
‘No, but I know who has,’ Jack said, sliding the rag into his back pocket. Bending down he stacked his tools back in his toolkit, then clicked it shut it.
‘Go on,’ Robin prompted.
‘Well—.’ Jack stood up with the toolkit in his hand and began to walk towards the Ford utility parked next to the hayshed, half way between the shearing shed and the house. ‘I ran into my neighbor Ashton Hani this morning. You probably heard the commotion? No. Okay. Well, anyway, some of Hani’s cows jumped our fence and we herded them out. He’s coming over tonight for band practice.’
‘So, ye play in a band do ye? What kind of music?’ Robin scratched his chin and walked faster to keep up with Jack’s long strides.
‘Oh, we’re a heavy metal rock group,’ Jack said as he dropped the tools into the open back of his Ford utility. He paused to slam the tailgate shut. ‘Watch your fingers.’ Slam! Clunk! ‘We do the local barn dancing circuit about once each month. I play the piano, banjo and electric guitar. Ashton plays the base guitar and drums. So, we mix it up with Country and Western music to keep the old fogies happy. If you’re still around you should bring your colleague Lisa along to our next gig. At two bucks a head and all the free grog you can drink, it’s cheap at half the price.’
‘It sounds like fun. I think Lisa’ll be into that. So, this Ashton can tell me how to get in contact with Blue Sky Mining then?’ Robin queried.
‘Well, not exactly,’ Jack paused, leaning back against the vehicle. ‘His brother Jesse can though. He lives just a few clicks up the road to the north of here, off the beaten track, on the right. If you go too far you’ll land up on Ashton’s doorstep, which is the house on the left just prior to the National Park. Jesse has a geologist mate. Kirin can put you in contact with the mining company, if you like?’
‘Yes, Kirin. That’s who I was referring to.’ Robin paused. ‘I’ve known him for centuries. We go way back. Thanks, I’d appreciate that. Oh, that’s right. I think I may have met Ashton and Jesse the other day when my car broke down.’ He recollected the incident. ‘Near the old ghost house. Two really tall dudes? One in patchwork overalls?’
‘Yes, that’d be them,’ Jack nodded with a warm grin. ‘Real country bumpkins.’
An attractive tall thin woman with the figure of a model poked her head around the side of the shearing shed and waved. Strands of dark-hair flicked across her face in the wind, so she brushed it off. Jack raised his hand and nodded back at her. He rubbed his chin and took a long look. She did her blue jeans and a white shirt proud.
‘Hey! Robin! Can you give me a hand moving the geophysics equipment?’ Lisa hollered at them, sliding her on dark sunglasses.
‘Okay Lisa. I’ll be there in a jiffy,’ Robin yelled back. ‘Just give me a few more minutes.’
#
The blood red sun draped low in the sky now, peeking out behind thin storm clouds. Jack Henton crouched on his heels near the back door of his house, surveying the new rabbit hutch that they had crafted. He rubbed a red welt on the back of his neck and winced. Darn it was sore. He then clicked his neck back and forth. Now, that felt much better.
‘Not bad. Not bad at all.’ Jack nodded smiling. ‘You boys have done yourselves proud.’
His oldest boy, a scruffy, ginger-haired and brawny Charlie finished tying the wood slats on the roof of the rabbit hutch with some wire. His second son, a year younger, thin lanky Raymond, picked up the lid to the rabbit hutch. Jack reached across and leaning on the hutch, took one side of the lid and helped Raymond align it on the top of the rabbit hutch.
‘Pass us the hinges please Frank,’ asked Jack, nodding at his youngest son, ‘And the bag of screws when you find time — like—, right now.’
‘It looks good,’ Raymond stood back now, hands ruffling his shoulder-length mousy-brown hair. He eyed off the rabbit hutch with pride. His eyes roamed across to his red-headed freckled-faced sixteen-year-old elder brother Charlie. And then they wandered across to focus on Frank, Charlie’s shorter nine-year-old spitting image.
Now Charlie climbed clumsily and carelessly through the open lid into the hatch, his jeans catching on wire mesh. Raymond’s face winced at the sound of the tearing jeans, his eyes flicking across to his father. Jack raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Charlie completed setting up a drink container with a floatation device for the rabbits. He grinned back though the wire mesh. Now that he’d passed his Driver’s license he could finally ask that Amanda Thomas spunk out on a date. Raymond watched with disgust as Charlie tightened the wire too tight and it snapped. The metallic drink container fell off its post. He’d messed that up too. That’s Charlie: a real dumb ass. He shook his head in angst.
‘Do it again,’ Jack said. ‘Do it properly. And try not to screw it up this time.’
‘Charlie does everything bigly,’ Frankie snorted. ‘He even screws up bigly.’
Yep. Raymond shook his head. It would probably break down tomorrow. Charlie did everything quick and rough as guts. He didn’t finish anything properly.
The floor boards behind them squeaked as Jack’s sandy-haired wife Denny wandered out onto the verandah with tea and biscuits. Jack glanced fondly back over his shoulder at her rounded chin, tiny pointed nose and glittering blue eyes reflecting the dying sun.
‘It looks good Hon. So, where’ll you get the rabbits from?’ Denny asked, stepping down and placing the drinks on the end of the hatch on of one of the wooden slats. Then she wiped her hands on her green and white striped apron. If you sat her next to my mother and Amanda’s mother Sandra you would swear they were all sisters.
‘We’re gonna catch the rabbits ourselves—,’ replied young Frank scratching at his nose, ‘alive.’
‘Huh?’ Denny asked, ruffling her shoulder-length hair. ‘How — with rabbit traps?’ As Charlie climbed out of the hatch she noted the torn fragment flapping off the side of his jeans. ‘You ripped your pants again Charlie. I just sewed them up yesterday.’
‘Oh that? That’s nothing.’ He flipped the subject. ‘How do we catch the rabbits? Well, Dad uses the spotlight to dazzle the rabbits and shoots over their head so they panic and don’t run off,’ Charlie explained. ‘Then, we jump off the back of the utility and come at them from either side. It is dangerous, but fun — that’s why we like doing it.’
‘Why? Because it is dangerous — or because it is fun?’ Denny queried with a concerned face now, hands on hips.
‘Huh? Both, of course,’ was Frank’s quick witted reply.
‘Really?’ A horrified look spread across his mother’s face.
‘Then, I do a rugby tackle and catch it, like this,’ added Raymond, diving across the thick green couch grass into Frank’s legs, pulling him down hard onto the lawn. Rolling over grinning, he lay on his back looking up at his mother for approval. Pushing Raymond away viciously Frank stood up, kicking him in annoyance. Death rays pierced Raymond’s burning flesh. Raymond twitched, looking the other way, and then lifting a retaliatory leg he deliberately tripped Frank over. Raymond grinned. Charlie smirked.
‘Raymond, get up and pass me the wire cutters so I can help you finish this,’ his father Jack said. Then he nodded towards the shed in the distant half-light, adding, ‘Charlie. Go down to the shearing shed. Grab the spotlights, both of them. Plus the battery that’s on the charger. Frank. Go with him.’
‘Oh, and grab a bottle of milk out the fridge and take it with you,’ Denny ordered, pointing towards the house. ‘That Robin Grady fellow is down there with his girlfriend Lisa. And, make sure you get back before it gets dark,’ she added.
‘Why? What’s the problem now?’ asked Jack, stumped, rubbing his aching twitching neck.
‘I’m not at all keen on the kids being outside by themselves at night,’ Denny replied her eyes flickering around a little nervously, stepping back onto the verandah.
‘But, other than Robin, Lisa and us, there’s no-one else around for miles—,’ Jack replied.
‘Yes. I like Robin and Lisa
too. It’s nothing to do with them, but, it’s just not safe around here anymore. And — that is the problem in a nut-shell!’ The door slammed behind Denny as she stomped inside the house. ‘It’s just not safe.’
#
London: Mid-August, 2012
‘Andrea. I need to shoot down to the Museum. I think they’re running geophysical surveys on the wrong part of the UK Stonehenge. You can both come if you like? Can you grab a jacket for your brother Peter?’ Doctor Jo Hani asked her daughter. ‘Let’s go. It’s a bit chilly out.’
‘How long will you be?’ Andrea hesitated.
‘Maybe an hour or two at most,’ Jo replied. ‘Why?’
‘I can stay and look after Peter, if you like?’ Andrea replied.
‘That’s not a good idea Andrea. You’re not old enough,’ Jo replied, with a frown. ‘And, your father won’t be home from Paris until this evening.’
‘But it’s okay when you and Dad go shopping though?’
‘That’s different. The shop is just around the corner,’ Jo searched for her handbag. ‘Oh, there you are bag. I’ve been looking for you for some time. Look, just a minute Andrea, I’ll phone Edward’s sister—.’
‘Whatz happening?’ Peter asked.
‘Mom is gonna get Aunty Monica to come over while she goes to work for a few hours,’ Andrea told Peter.
‘I don’t think Aunt Monica likes me,’ Peter said. ‘She’s always telling me off.’
‘Shush. Keep your voice down. Mom’s on the phone, with her now.’ Andrea ushered her brother into the lounge room. ‘Peter, you go get the book. Cassio — or whatever it’s called. I’ll see Mom off. Aunt Monica will just sit in the kitchen with her earphones in and knit anyway, so we can read it in the lounge room. What’re you waiting for? Scoot. Skedaddle.’
‘Okidoki. Thanks Monica. I greatly appreciate it. Okidoki. Bye,’ Jo Hani said, putting her mobile phone back into her handbag. She turned. ‘Andrea. Oh, there you are. Uncle Boris will drop Aunt Monica off in around thirty minutes or so. You should be fine until then. I’ll only be gone a few hours anyway.’
‘Yes Mom. That’s what you said last time. Take care. Love you. And—, Mom—.’
‘Yes Andrea?’
‘Can I get my ears pierced? All my friends have, and it’s real cool,’ Andrea jumped up and down on the spot expectantly.
‘No! Of course not! You’re still too young?’ her mother replied harshly, opening the front door.
‘What about a tattoo on my butt then?’ Andrea pouted.
‘A — what?’ Jo’s mouth opened in shock.
‘A tattoo. You do know what a tattoo is Mom, don’t you? Jenny Ferguson has one.’
‘Yes. I’m sure she does. But no, I don’t think so. Of course not, you’re far too young. And “No”, means “No” Andrea.’ Jo waved her finger in the air. ‘Just take care of Peter. I’ll see you both in a few hours. And don’t go up in the attic. You shouldn’t be touching Uncle Heni’s stuff. Don’t act all innocent and the like. I know you did. I’ve eyes in the back of my head.’ Jo opened the door and stepped outside.
‘Okay Mom. We won’t,’ Andrea lied. ‘Have a good time. Bye.’ Slam!
Chapter 18: Cydroids can’t count
That evening. Henton’s Farm: September 21, 1973
The clock in the Henton’s kitchen clunked over to 8:30 p.m.. Denny glanced up at it, and wiping the last of the dishes she began to put them away. She peered out the window. The stars shone in the night sky. She shuddered as a chill raced up her spine. With a flick of the hand she drew the curtains shut with a snap.
Jack Henton drove the Ford utility at a cows trot down the country road. His 0.22 caliber Winchester rifle rested on his right arm, leaning out the open cabin window. On the back of the utility, Charlie Henton swept the strong spotlight beam back and forth across the paddock.
‘Not so fast, slow it down a bit,’ Jack said to him. ‘Move your spotlight in slower sweeps.’
‘There’s one?’ Charlie spat out eagerly, his spotlight lingering in one spot.
‘No its not, it’s just a mallee stump,’ Raymond replied.
They had connected the spotlight to a battery under the bonnet. Jack had rigged a second spotlight up on the roof, controlled from inside the vehicle.
Raymond, Frank, and Charlie’s mate Randy White stood next to Charlie holding onto the handrail. An almost invisible Johnny Christian sat on a bag of oats towards the back playing with his dark hair locks.
Charlie lifted his spotlight above his head now shining the bright piercing light through the bushes on the other side of the road. As the utility edged forward, all eyes followed the spotlight. It bounced slowly across the paddock, flittering over the bushes, and then swept back the other way again.
‘There’s one,’ whispered Charlie bouncing the light back and forth over a rabbit to dazzle it. The rabbit froze in its tracks, temporarily blinded by the light. ‘See. It’s in the clearing on the side of the road just ahead, near the gate.’
‘Just a minute boys, stay on the back of the vehicle for safety sake. No one moves until I give the word.’ Jack Henton brought the vehicle to a gentle standstill, rotated the roof spotlight so that it hovered over the animal, lifted his rifle and carefully aimed just above the rabbit’s head. A sharp crack cut the night air. He placed the rifle back in the safe position, pointing it in the air away from the teenagers.
‘Okay! Go!’ Jack said. ‘Just don’t run in front of the — spotlight.’
‘Darn! It got away,’ yelled an annoyed Raymond. ‘Johnny Christian! Dad said: “Don’t run in front of the spotlight.” When the light dazzles the rabbit, it can’t see us. But — if you block the light the rabbit isn’t blinded anymore and can escape.’
‘Oh, I never knew that. Sorry,’ was the nonchalant reply, followed by an apologetic shrug.
‘Well. You do now then,’ Raymond warned him.
‘Is everyone on the back?’ Jack asked. ‘Okay! Then let’s try this again.’ The vehicle putted off down the road. A set of lights rounded a distant corner, bouncing along the dirt track toward them. ‘Turn off the spotlight Charlie. I said turn it off, not shine it in my face!’ Jack Henton flipped the switch of the roof spotlight off and the warm light slowly dimmed. He turned his head lights to low beam, and the engine spluttered then stopped. A Datsun utility approached, drawing up quietly on the other side of the road.
‘Hi! I see you guys are spotlighting for rabbits. How’s it going boys?’ Ashton Hani leant out the window. Brian sat in the Datsun next to him.
‘The boys built a rabbit hutch and we’re trying to catch some live rabbits to fill it. Raymond’s the expert. He’s caught three live rabbits so far tonight,’ Jack explained, ‘And I shot three more, dead.’
‘Live rabbits? Well, that’s fine. Just don’t shoot towards the houses. The women get a bit nervous sometimes,’ Ashton said. ‘Plus, if you accidentally shoot your Mother’s or the Thomas’s pet wallabies, then you’ll be dead meat for sure.’
‘No worries Uncle Ashton, we wouldn’t do that. Hey Dad! Is it okay for Brian to join us?’ Charlie Henton replied, thoughtfully for once. He viewed Brian as a rival, not an enemy.
‘Yes. Why not? Brian. If you like, you can join us?’ Jack said, leaning out his window. He imagined Brian diving on a rabbit, then standing back up with just the skin.
‘No! Not this time. I’ll take a rain check. I need to finish my school project,’ Brian yelled in a disappointed tone. ‘Thanks for the offer though.’
‘Don’t you boys have reports to hand up tomorrow as well?’ Jack asked.
‘No, not tomorrow,’ Charlie replied, digging Johnny Christian in the ribs.
‘No! Of course not,’ the others lied. If no-one finished it the teacher would give them an extension. At least, that was their plan.
‘Okay. Well, we’ll see you guys later. Happy hunting, but watch out for overhanging tree branches. You wouldn’t want to get poked by one in the eye,’ Ashton flicked his ha
nd at them, clicked his Datsun into gear and drove off.
Jack Henton waited for Ashton’s vehicle to disappear out of sight, and then took the next turn to the right, in the direction of Bill Thomas’s farm. Raymond was soon diving on and catching another live rabbit. That made four in total. Both Johnny Christian and Thomas Henderson tried but missed. Those rabbits escaped much to Raymond’s delight.
None of them remembered what happened after that but, the next morning Raymond went outside to check on the rabbits.
‘Huh! I only remember catching four live rabbits in total,’ Raymond said to himself. ‘Shit! And the floatation device’s jammed. Go figure that out. Charlie did a crap job, again.’
Jack Henton walked up and stood behind Raymond, placing a hand on his shoulder.
‘Yes,’ Jack agreed, adding ‘You’re spot on Raymond. We only caught four live rabbits. Do you know where Charlie hung the other three after he gutted and skinned them? He should have put them in the cool room, but I can’t for the life of me seem to find them.’
‘That’s it in a nut shell Dad,’ Raymond replied. ‘We only caught four live rabbits. So, perhaps Charlie can also explain why there are seven live rabbits running around in the cage? I can’t. And, maybe he can fix the floatation device on the water trough too, before they all die of thirst.’
Just then an open-topped jeep pulled up at the side of the house and a man in his early thirties wearing jeans and a green open-neck shirt jumped out.
‘Can I help you?’ Jack asked, walking over.
‘I sure hope so. I’m looking for a guy — an American — Professor Grady,’ Tom Fargo said. ‘I was told that you might know where Robin is?’
Chapter 19: The dream
The same evening at Our Place, Cassiopeia Farm: Friday, September 21, 1973
At around 8:30 p.m. on the same Friday evening, the animals started making a racket. Blackie whined, the cows mooed, the pigs were squealing and the sheep bleated loudly. Dad grabbed the torchlight and stepped outside. A few minutes later the 32-volt generator started to sputter. The lights went out. I stood transfixed by the kitchen window staring out into the half-darkness. Strange orange glowing lights bounced over the tree line of the distant paddock near Brian’s house. I wondered what caused them.