Danny Allen Was Here (5 page)

Mark didn’t respond. He was enjoying the ride.

Danny joined Sam and they shouted together. ‘
Get oooooff!
’

Mark then quickly started to make sharp body movements. It was obvious that he’d had a sudden realisation of what was coming . . . blood and guts. He rolled frantically onto his side and began jerking hard.

‘What’s he doing?’ Danny cried.

‘I think he’s trying to turn,’ said Sam. ‘He’s never going to do it. If he hits those boulders or that old car at the bottom, we’ll be picking up arms and legs in a minute. His head will be dropping off just like the Miller woman’s.’

The image of Mark Thompson’s head sitting in the sand with stringy bits of bloodied skin and veins hanging from the neck was burnt immediately into Danny’s mind. He strode from the crest of the dune. ‘Get off, Thommo!’ he bellowed.

Sam started moving quickly down the dune. The sand was soft and his feet sunk to his ankles. He was walking like an emu might walk through sticky mud.

Danny followed. He didn’t want Mark to get splattered. The thought of a body standing with bits of skin hanging from a headless neck made him feel worse. Especially if it was someone he knew.

Before Danny could take too many steps he stopped. He stared at Mark, who was now lying on his hip. His hands were pulling at the front of his sheet of iron. With his legs pushing hard and kicking at the tail of his toboggan, Mark tilted hard to one side. He jerked sideways and leant over with all his might and body weight to make his sheet of iron take a wide sweeping turn. It was amazing!

Danny stood and stared as a fine veil of red sand
flew beneath Mark and was pushed skyward. It rose in a long arc; just like a snow skier pushes snow into the air when coming to a stop at the base of a run.

Danny’s mouth dropped open as he stood and saw the sun strike the veil, making it glow brilliant orange.

‘Wow!’ he gasped.

Mark rolled into the sand and sprung to his knees as soon as he stopped. ‘Did you see that?’ he called, lifting his hands above his head. ‘Did you see it?’ He was only a couple of metres from the boulders, but he didn’t seem to notice. He stood up and began jumping about triumphantly.

‘Yeah we saw it,’ Sam answered.

Mark pointed to Sam and bellowed. ‘Now it’s your turn!’

Danny was excited. He jumped through the sand to be by his brother’s side. ‘This is going to be the best thing ever.’

Sam shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t seem excited at all. ‘Hmm, maybe.’

Danny was puzzled.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if we don’t do it as well as him we’ll never hear the end of it.’ Sam motioned toward Mark. ‘Just listen to him. If I stuff up, he’ll tell everyone how good he was and how useless I am.’

Danny wasn’t excited any more. He stood silently next to Sam, rubbing his eyes free of sand.

Sam was right.

Danny didn’t know why, but his stomach suddenly fluttered with butterflies. The only time he felt them was when he was nervous, like when Dr Kelly came at him with a needle or the dentist said, ‘I just have to drill a little.’

Danny stared at Sam for at least a second and somehow knew that he had butterflies as well. Mark was good at everything and Sam
still
couldn’t kick the footy over Mundowie Hall.

Mark was on his way. He was grinning broadly as he trudged up the side of the dune dragging his sheet of iron behind him.

He puffed hard in between short phrases. ‘The speed . . . was wicked! Some of the sand . . . spits up and stings you . . . in the face and when I hit that mound, I just . . . went flying. You saw it, didn’t you? I thought . . . I was finished, but I wasn’t.’

When Mark finally made it to the top he put his hands on Sam’s shoulders. ‘You
have
to get balanced,’ he huffed. ‘Or you’ll go over before the mound.’ He took a few more short sharp breaths. ‘Make sure you use your body to do the turn . . . It’s easy really. I reckon it is anyway... I don’t know how you two will go though.’

‘We’ll be good,’ chirped Danny pluckily. ‘We know what to do.’

Mark raised his eyebrows and muffled a chuckle. ‘Yeah, ha, ha. Well, we’ll see.’

He elbowed Sam. ‘Are you going first?’

‘Yep.’

Mark rolled his eyes. ‘This’ll be good.’

Sam readied himself for the ride.

Danny found himself giving instructions.

‘Be ready for the mound and really lean over hard when you want to do the turn, like Mark.’

‘Shut up!’ Sam snapped. ‘I know what I’m doing. Just you push when I tell you.’

Mark grabbed the back of the iron. The look on his face was fierce. He was going to push with all his might.

Sam shuffled a little. He took a deep breath. ‘Okay . . . Push!’ he cried.

Danny bowed his head and heaved. Mark grunted. The iron skated across the sand.

Shoowooo, shuuuuush.

The wind came. Mark was pushing hard, running fast. Danny couldn’t stay with him. He was losing his footing. He fell to his knees and felt the iron slip from his grasp.

Mark pushed until Sam went over the edge and down the steepest part of the dune. Mark stood tall, puffing hard. He was smiling when Sam hit the mound.

Sam took off. ‘Yaaaghhh!’

He was out of control but . . .
thwoop
. . . he somehow made a landing.

Danny cheered and clapped. ‘Wahhoooo! Go! Go!’

Sam heard him above the whistle and soft howl of the wind around his ears.

Danny bounded down the dune and stood as tall as he could next to Mark. ‘He got over the mound pretty well,’ he said.

Mark nodded. ‘Yeah, but he still has to make the turn.’

Danny stood listening to the sound of his own heart. Sam could do it; he knew he could. He was writhing and twisting now, leaning and rolling. The sheet of iron was lifting at one side. Sam was pulling and jerking. Danny could see how hard he was trying. He could also see how fast he was nearing the boulders.

Danny was about to cry out when Sam gave up and rolled from the iron onto the sand. His arms and legs kicked up a spray of fine sand. Disappointed, he thumped the sand with a fist. The sheet of iron continued the journey and flew over a ridge and onto the tops of the boulders before cannoning into the old car.

Clang!

It twisted sickeningly as it bounced into the air before spinning down again.

Clang! Bang!

‘Hey!’ Mark yelled. ‘There had better not be any dents in that.’

Sam tried to ignore him. He wandered down to collect the sheet of iron, kicking the sand despondently all the way.

The rest of the afternoon they spent taking turns. Danny’s first ride was taken with Sam waiting at the bottom in case he couldn’t get off near the boulders. Danny was a bit annoyed. He didn’t want to be treated like a baby. What would Mark Thompson tell everyone?

But Sam told him he was doing it no matter what. And it was just as well. Sam had to dive at him on one ride and grab Danny’s shirt, or he would have been splattered!

Apart from flying down a muddy bank on a tractor tube when the creek was full, the dune ride was the best thing Danny had ever done. The sound of the sand beneath him, the wind making his eyes water, the stinging of the fine grains of sand spitting up and bombing his cheeks. The speed, the way the world shook and shuddered and sped past in a blur.
This
, he thought,
would be like sitting in the space shuttle and being launched
.

Mark Thompson was the best rider. On some of the runs he pushed up a veil of sand as high as the roof on the Miller homestead. No matter how many times Sam tried he couldn’t make the turn at the bottom. Mark
made it every time with each one being more spectacular than the last. He continued to give Sam tips, of course. ‘You just don’t know how to bend the knees or use your arms. There’s a lot of skill involved.’

Time passed quickly. Shadows grew longer, the sand dune valleys grew darker and the air cooler. The sun took its last peek over the hills and dipped, as if winking, out of sight. The light of the day faded without them noticing. The sand was losing its rich colour to shadow.

Sam was due to have the last ride when Mark Thompson suddenly said, ‘Hey, wait up, wait, I’ve got another idea.’

Danny and Sam exchanged wary glances.

‘What now?’

‘No listen,’ said Mark, grabbing them both. ‘I reckon kneeling down is a bit weak.’ He parted his legs suddenly and spread his arms. He bobbed on bending knees and said, ‘I reckon we should stand on this thing and surf down.’ He nodded excitedly. His eyes widened. ‘Yeah? What do you think? Come on.’

Sam held the iron and was next to go. He was hesitant. ‘Hmm, I don’t know . . .’

Mark went to take the iron from him. ‘If you’re scared, I’ll do it.’

Sam tightened his grip on the iron. ‘No, it’s my go, I’ll do it.’

Danny swallowed nervously.

Sam readied himself at the top of the Everest Dune. The horizon was a pastel blend of orange, pink and blue. The air was cool and still. Noise carried easily in echoes. They could hear sheep, magpies, crows and galahs. Sam stood on the iron and took deep breaths. He practised some stances before he put it near the edge. He looked uneasy.

Strangely, so did Mark. He had suddenly started looking at the sky. ‘Come on! Get a move on. It’ll be dark soon. Look,’ he pointed to the sky. ‘The first star is out and you still haven’t gone.’

Sam looked up and spied Mark’s star near the silver-lace moon. ‘That’s not a star, Thompson, that’s Venus.’

Danny was impressed. ‘Is it really?’

‘Yeah. Lots of people think it’s a star, but . . .’

Mark frowned. ‘Yeah, that’s right, it is. I knew that . . . I remember now. Just get on with it.’

Sam was standing with his arms spread and legs bent. ‘Okay, when I say go, push me.’ He shuffled his feet. There was a second or two of concentrated silence. Then Sam quietly said, ‘Hold it . . . wait . . . hold it . . .’

Mark couldn’t stand waiting so he pushed Sam over the edge. ‘We can’t wait here all night, Allen!’

Sam rocked sharply backward, regained his balance
and slid away. His hips were swaying, his feet shuffling back and forth and his arms flying around his head. He bent his quivering knees. Surprisingly he was still standing when he hit the mound.

The sheet of iron flew through the air. Sam crouched like a real surfer. Danny watched and held his breath as he saw Sam’s feet drift from the iron into midair.

Sam crouched low, reached down, grabbed the iron and pulled it back onto his feet like a skateboarder. He landed with a bounce and a snaking twist. He stood again, shuffling his feet and spreading his arms like the wings of a gliding bird.

Danny jumped about and clapped. ‘Whaaahhoooo!’ he cried, turning to Mark. ‘Did you see that? That was brilliant!’

Mark said nothing.

Beyond the mound Sam’s hips were still gyrating and his arms weren’t waving as wildly as before. Sam was really surfing the dune!

Danny stared, watching every movement. He wished he could see Sam’s face. He wished he were on the iron with him.

Danny marvelled at his brother’s skill. He had no idea how he was still standing, but as the wind flicked hair across his brow he looked ahead of Sam. Through the blur of watery eyes he saw the boulders.

Sam had to get off . . . or maybe he should try a surfing turn? Mark would find that hard to beat.

The rocks were getting closer . . . closer . . . closer. Danny clenched his fists at his sides as he watched Sam frantically trying to push the tail of the iron into a turn. Sam twisted and jumped, leant and swayed. He was now surfing dangerously close to disaster.

Danny felt his brother’s fear.

He ran from the top of the dune. ‘Get off, Sam! Juuuump!’

Danny had a vision of threads of blood and skin hanging from Sam’s head. Maybe the Miller woman had been surfing the sand dunes when she lost her head.

Danny stood breathless as Sam hit a ridge at the edge of the valley of boulders.

Mark put his hands to his head and gritted his teeth. ‘Oh jeez no!’

Danny caught a split-second glimpse of Sam’s terrified face as his brother’s body spun into the air. Danny had seen highlights on sports shows of surfers being tossed from waves in Hawaii with their bodies twisting and spinning just like Sam’s.