Darkness Be My Friend (3 page)

Read Darkness Be My Friend Online

Authors: John Marsden

BOOK: Darkness Be My Friend
12.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

OK, be honest, she comes because I bully her into it.

Anyway, this particular Monday we got back about half past three, a quarter to four, and there they all were: Colonel Finley, Homer, Lee and Kevin. They were standing in a circle, like mourners at a funeral, and the expressions on their faces were like mourners at a funeral too.

When I found out what Colonel Finley wanted I realised they were at a funeral.

Ours.

Fi and I walked up to them quite innocently. I had my hands on my hips, I remember that. We were hot and red-faced and panting, but I soon forgot my lack of oxygen and my heaving chest and my sweaty top. Before I could ask what was happening Homer told me.

"We're going back," he said.

That's Homer. If you want to understand Homer, and sometimes I don't know why you'd bother, those three words tell you everything you need to know. "We're going back." Even as I write them again now I can feel myself starting to scowl and grind my teeth. The thing about Homer is that he'd know exactly how angry it'd
make me when he said that, but he couldn't stop himself. He'd say it to prove to himself that he was the Man, no one was going to tell him what to do. And of course the "no one" he was worried about was me. All our lives we'd been competing. Even now, at this critical moment, he wasn't going to give me the satisfaction of letting me think I had any say.

Our lives at stake, and Homer still wanted to make the decisions for us.

So there I was, my blood draining away through my feet, flooding out so fast I thought I would faint. I was churned up with anger at Homer, shock at what he had said, and sheer stark total terror. I felt for a minute like it was Fi and me against the four males. Funny, I knew exactly what Homer meant when he said "We're going back," I didn't have to ask. I knew he wasn't talking about going back to the pool for another swim, or going back to the cinema on Customhouse Quay.

In the end all I could do was walk past them and into the house. Colonel Finley was trying to talk to me: I think he was mad at Homer for jumping the gun like that, but I wouldn't listen, just kept walking. I assumed Fi was right behind me; it was only when I reached the bathroom that I realised she wasn't. That got me even madder: I swung right round and charged straight out again. They were still standing there, in their little huddle, Fi with them now.

I screeched to a halt and screeched at them, "What the hell is this all about?"

"Look," Colonel Finley said, in his very patient voice that he hardly ever used, "I think we'd better go inside and have a chat."

Three cups of coffee later he'd finally gone and we were left to our argument. And did we have a doozey. I ranted and raved and screamed. It was stupid really, because deep down I knew we had to go. I suppose maybe, looking back, I wasn't screaming at them; I was screaming at everything: at life, at the unfairness of it. Above all, with the fear that I might be killed, that what I saw happen to Robyn might happen to me.

But there were two compelling reasons for us to go. Two reasons that meant we didn't have a choice. One reason was the one that mattered to Colonel Finley: the sabotage they planned for Wirrawee. Sabotage that was getting more important every day now that Cobbler's Bay was back in action and Wirrawee was used more and more heavily as the centre for the whole district. Little Wirrawee, on the map at last. We were going to try to put it off the map. And with the New Zealand Air Force losing out badly in the sky, bombing was getting too dangerous. There were hardly any bombing missions any more. Guerilla activity was seen as the best hope. "Cost effective" were Colonel Finley's cool dry words.

The second reason was the one that was racing around our minds, whizzing like go-karts. It didn't matter much to Colonel Finley, but it meant everything to us.

Our families, families, families. That was the argument that suffocated everything else. It drew us all back home. And I mean the five of us. At one stage Colonel Finley suggested we didn't all have to go: a couple could stay behind. He didn't name anyone in particular, and we didn't ask. We unanimously rejected any talk of splitting the group. We needed each other too much.

For a few clays I almost hated my parents for being locked up in Wirrawee Showgrounds.

If they hadn't been there, if they'd been safe in New Zealand, for example, would I still have agreed to go back?

It was a horrible question and one I'm glad I didn't have to answer. But all the same, I think I knew deep down what the answer would be.

Sometimes there's really only one answer.

So, would I have gone back?'

Yes.

Three

Funny, I write this stuff, I quite enjoy it. I don't know, it's probably good for me or something.' I remember Andrea hinting that once, but I don't care about that, I've just gradually grown to like it. So I sit here and rattle off page after page. Sometimes it seems like an effort; sometimes it flows like water. My record for a day is nearly ten pages.

But that one word at the end of the last bit, just that one word: it took me a whole day to write that.

Anyway, I'm not going to say any more about it.

They wouldn't tell us much about what they wanted us to do, but I gradually realised we would start by going into Hell, our beautiful natural hideout, so well hidden from the rest of the world. I had to mark places on a map
where I thought a helicopter could land on our property, so I figured a chopper ride would be part of the deal. We knew we had to guide some New Zealand soldiers: that was our main function. But that was all we knew.

The day before we left, though, I got taken to Colonel Finley's office. On my own this time. Then he told me in detail what I'd have to do: how from the moment we landed sixteen other people would be depending totally on me. But I wasn't allowed to tell anyone where we were going. Not until we'd taken off from Wellington.

The other thing Colonel Finley said really annoyed me. Infuriated me. He started in on this speech about how we had to be ready to take orders when we got there; we had to realise that we would be under the command of professional soldiers. We couldn't go off half-cocked, or start "doing our own thing," as he called it. It reminded me of Major Harvey, so that put me off right away, but I also thought it was an insult to my intelligence. I wondered why he wasn't giving this lecture to the others.

So I told him.

"Colonel Finley, I know all this. We're not idiots. We're not going over there to play games."

He seemed a bit taken aback. I don't think his own soldiers spoke to him like that.

"Of course, Ellie, I didn't mean to suggest that..."

The interview didn't go much longer. I think he was glad to get me out of his office.

Surprise surprise, who should be at the airport but Iain Pearce. Captain Iain Pearce that is, as we soon found out. And eleven others like him. Not totally like
him, seeing four of them were women. But they did have a sameness about them. As I got to know some of them better I learned that of course they were all different. OK, sure, I know everyone's different, but this bunch did look alike, dress alike, sound alike. They'd all gone through the same training programme, I suppose. Or maybe they were picked in the first place because they fitted the mould that the army wanted. They were so correct about everything: that bugged me a bit. Everything they said was correct, they never slopped around saying the first thing that came into their minds, they never said anything that we would be offended by, they only swore when the radio wouldn't work or they cut themselves shaving. You couldn't help feeling that they'd all go to the toilet at the same time, and the same stuff would come out, if you know what I mean.

We stood on the tarmac at the RNZAF base, shivering. A dozen professional saboteurs and five amateur guides. A dozen soldiers, highly trained, carrying everything from automatic weapons to Band-Aids, and keyed up for action. And five pale-faced kids, scared from their tonsils through their large intestines all the way down to their toes.

God, we were scared. Even Homer was scared. It had happened too fast, that was the problem. But if we'd had six months it wouldn't have made any difference. Matter of fact it might have been worse.

Kevin stood on his own, near the tail of the aircraft. He'd been chucking all night. I knew, because I'd been up all night myself. I hadn't slept for four nights, but last night had been the worst. Fi leant against me,
looking out at the beautiful free ocean. Homer was talking to two of the soldiers. He was trying to hang tough, to look like them, but I wasn't fooled. Lee sat on his backpack with a stick in his hand, jabbing at the bitumen.

Fi turned to me suddenly and to my surprise said, "Are you OK about this now?"

"No."

"But we've got no choice."

"I know."

For four days, after our big argument, we'd avoided talking about it. We'd tiptoed around each other and talked about things like how many jocks to take, or which was the best flavour chocolate.

"I don't want to go either," Fi said.

"You didn't put up much of a fight."

She shrugged. "It's out of our control. I felt like if Colonel Finley thought it was important, we had to do it."

"Yeah, of course. I'm just taking longer to get used to the idea, that's all. It's not exactly that I don't want to go, it's more that I don't like the way we were given no choice. I mean Homer saying 'We're going back'; it's so typical of him. Honestly, he is infuriating."

"What do you think it'll be like?"

"I don't know. It's scary, isn't it, to think how much things might have changed. They're talking about Wirrawee like it's a major city. New York, Tokyo, London and Wirrawee."

"It won't be that big. It's just the airfield really."

Several newspapers had run stories on the development of a big new military airfield at Wirrawee.

"That's all we know. There could be heaps more happening. The whole countryside'll probably be crawling with soldiers."

"You're just trying to scare yourself."

"Mmm, and it's not too difficult."

"Ellie, have you really changed a lot, or is this just a stage you're going through?" But she laughed as she said it. '

"Of course I've changed. What do you think?" But I didn't laugh.

"You've always had the guts to do things. You're not allowed to stop. We'd all give up then."

"I never had guts, Fi. I just did things because there was no choice. Like what you said about going back. Exactly the same."

Iain Pearce, Captain Iain Pearce, strode over to where we were talking. He marched all the time. I bet he marched to the shower in the morning.

"There's been another delay, folks. Sorry about this. It's what happens when you trust the Air Force. If you want a coffee there's a canteen at the end of the fibrolite building. But be back in forty-five, OK?"

We all went over there except Homer. And we didn't march, we slouched. Fi and I picked up our conversation as we sat clutching coffee mugs, using them to warm our hands.

"I'm more scared than I used to be," I confessed. "I'm scared of dying now. I mean I always was, but now that I've seen so much of it, I'm bloody terrified. Aren't you?"

"Yes, of course. But it's funny, I feel quite calm right at this moment. I don't understand why. I should be in a straitjacket." She peered into her coffee as if she
expected to find an answer there. "I think it's partly because of the soldiers," she said at last. "They're so professional about everything. I just feel we'll be like spectators this time. We can leave all the important stuff to them."

"I suppose. But so much can go wrong."

"Nothing new about that."

"Do you think we might be able to see our parents?"

"Well, Colonel Finley said he'd talk to Iain about it. He thought we'd have a good chance."

"Oh, come on, Fi! You believed that? He'd say anything to get us to go."

Fi looked so sad that I felt guilty. "Oh, do you think so? But I want to see them so badly."

"You think I don't? It's all I care about. It's all I want. If I thought I could get them out, I'd swim across the Tasman. Sharks and all."

"Then why are you being so strange about going back there now?"'

"How the hell should I know? Look, I don't want to get into some big mystical scene, but I just don't feel good about it, OK? Maybe it's something to do with Robyn. That's what Andrea thinks, anyway. All I know is, I feel angry. Everything makes me angry at the moment."

Completely unexpectedly Fi said: "What did happen the night of the party with that creep Adam?"

"How did you know he was a creep?"

"Oh, Ellie! What happened to your good taste and judgement?"

That was the moment Lee and Kevin chose to come over.

"Time to go, kiddies," Kevin said.

"I'll tell you later," I said to Fi.

We walked back across the tarmac, the cold wind tugging at us, twisting my jacket around me.

"Last good cup of coffee we'll get for quite a time," Lee said.

"I know. It's awful. No TV, no nice bed, no hot baths. I can't believe we signed up for this."

"I didn't think you were going to sign up for it at one stage."

I sighed. "Oh, don't bring that up again. Fi and I have been talking about it for the last hour."

A minute earlier Fi had surprised me by her comment about Adam. Now it was Lee's turn to surprise me. He put his arm around me as we walked along. I was shocked. We hadn't touched each other in so long. We'd been as close as humans can get, but when that ended we didn't dare touch each other in case it was taken the wrong way. At least, I can only speak for myself: that's why I didn't touch Lee. I don't know for sure why he didn't touch me.

"We're going to be OK, you know, Ellie," he said. "As long as we stick together, we'll be OK."

The wind was getting colder and fiercer and I honestly don't know if it was stinging my eyes and making them water or if the tears were being pushed out by something else. But whichever it was I kept blinking till they were gone. No professional soldier was going to see me crying. Not to mention Homer.

Other books

Bali 9: The Untold Story by King, Madonna, Wockner, Cindy
Still Life by Lush Jones
Whispers From The Abyss by Kat Rocha (Editor)
Without Doubt by Cj Azevedo
Twanged by Carol Higgins Clark
Crooked River: A Novel by Valerie Geary