East of Outback (18 page)

A
N
E
VENING IN
T
OWN

Smoke the tortoise-shell cat curled up in Mary Aileen’s lap, making knitting impossible. Mary Aileen had to either shoo the cat or abandon her handwork. She laid her knitting aside, then heard the front door close downstairs.
It’s Papa
. She picked up Smoke and carried the limp, warm creature out of the room with her. She paused, watching from the top of the stairs.

Below in the foyer, Papa shook out his great coat. “I know we need the rain, but this is too much of a good thing. Edan home yet?”

“Probably around dark.” Mum stepped up to him for a hello kiss. “Carl rang up this afternoon. He praised Edan’s work and asked to take him along to get hay. He expects to return late. Says he’ll drop Edan off here on his way in.”

Papa nodded. “Little bite before supper?”

“Grace is bringing a tray of fruit and string cheese.”

“None of that fresh raisin bread left from breakfast?”

“Edan took the last of it in his lunch. Come, sit.” Mum led the way to the parlor. Mary Aileen glided downstairs and followed at a discreet distance. Papa looked weary, perhaps even heavyhearted. What else could be going wrong?

Papa flopped into his favorite chair and rubbed his face with both hands. “I got some returns today on the inquirles I sent out. No sign of Hannah or Colin anywhere around Kal. Aidan and Liam are looking; they want me to reimburse them for expenses. The area railway superintendent says he’s on the lookout. He found a schoolbag with a girl’s school uniform, brown frock and underwear. No name. He thinks it’s hers, and he gave it to the constable. She can’t retrieve it except through him. And certain unidentified railway workmen say Hannah and Colin found each other. They’re together, somewhere. Sam, I’m half tempted to go out there.”

Mum sighed and settled into her rocking chair, tipping it back. “To what end? If they travel east they must come by railway. That’s covered. You’ve far less chance of finding them than the locals who know the area. And you’ve responsibilities here.”

Papa sagged forward, his elbows on his knees, and stared at the ornate Persian rug. “Why, Sam? We did our best to raise them well. They’re fine children. Why?”

Mum studied him intently, gently. Her face softened and she slipped into her comfortable old Irish brogue. “Be ye saying ye truly want to know, Cole? Or be y’r ‘why’ rhetorical?”

Papa lifted his head and looked at her. His voice rumbled, sounding very, very sad. “I really want to know.”

Mum sat back in her rocker, and her voice took on the lightness of air, the gravity of earth. Mary Aileen marveled at the strength and authority that cloaked Mum now. “Ye be nae the man I married. Certainly ye be nae the man who indentured me out of the auld country those many years ago. Ye were crafty then, and devious, a man not to be trusted. As well ye had to be, for ye were sore beset by problems, scarcely any of y’r own making.”

He waved his hand as if to brush away her words. “Those were the days, weren’t they? Trying to keep Sugarlea afloat with no money to float her with. If Liam and Aidan had just helped—if only they’d taken over the Sydney office—I wouldn’t have started out with such heavy debts. I don’t think I ever told you how badly they milked the estate. My father left debts behind at his death, but we could have righted them if all three of us had worked together. Instead, they trebled the indebtedness and then got gold fever.”

“And I daresay they’re still milking any cow they can lay a hand to.”

He nodded. “I doubt they’ve changed. They wanted nothing to do with Sugarlea. I gave up trying to get them involved. Then the ruined cane crop. And the Kanaka labor woes.” He shook his head. “Don’t know how I carried it all, as I look back on it.”

Grace slipped quietly past Mary Aileen, set a tray on the coffee table, and left the room.

“Ye carried it bravely because y’r the strongest man I’ve ever known. And a fighter who will nae quit, no matter what. Yr strength and will to fight helped ye bend y’rself to God’s will, too. Today y’re an infinitely better man, in God’s eyes and in me own. I cannae tell ye how proud I am of ye, and of the distance y’ve come as a Christian.”

“But—?”

“But y’ve forgotten y’r past, Cole Sloan. Yre in such a fret to put away the flaws, ye left behind the good as well. Remembering what ye were aids in what ye become.”

“There was no good.”

“There was much good, but I’ll not argue it, now. I tell ye this: God did nae make the new Cole Sloan out of new clay; He used the old Cole Sloan. Y’ve come on a long journey, and y’r past has shaped y’r future.”

Papa smiled. “I remember long ago you talked about the force of history in our lives. I didn’t see it then.”

“Ye still seem to ignore it. Cole. And ye expect Colin in particular, for he’s the eldest and most like yourself, to start his own journey—not where y’rself did, but where y’ve lately come; not at the beginning of the journey y’rself took, but at the end of it. He cannae do that, Cole. Ye can show him the best way, but ye cannae force him to take it.

He must choose his own way, just as ye did back then. If he arrives where you’ve come, praise be to God. But
he
must do it. Ye can but watch and pray.”

“Are you saying I should have been more lenient?”

“Nae regarding sin, nae, of course not. But more understanding. This moment, ye ken nae what y’r youngest son’s hopes and dreams might be. Ye only see Edan as a miniature of what y’rself thinks he ought to become.”

“I’m his father, Sam. Of course I know him.”

Mum went on, “Nor Hannah either. Hannah’s an imp and a tease, guilty of most all the pranks ye blamed upon her brothers.”

“No.”

“Aye. The camping incident, for example.”

“Which one?”

“All of them, no doubt. But the one I nearly caught her at was Baylors’ tent. ‘Twas Hannah who tied the pony to the main pole. In the middle of the night when the moon was high, she stepped outside our tent and waved a white towel. The pony saw it and bolted, shaking the tent and frightening the poor beast further. Away it went, tent and all.”

“You
knew
it was Hannah? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Ye were already punishing Colin. Besides, ye fain would have believed me. Ye did nae believe Hannah when she confessed, and she knew ye wouldn’t. Ye thought she was trying to save her brother. Ye dinnae believe me now. Do ye?”

“Hannah.” He wagged his head. “I’ve been good to her. You’re a fine mother, Sam. Why would she run away?”

“She loves her brother, Cole. She fears for his health and safety.”

“What about
her
health and safety?”

“Cole, she’s almost thirteen. When y’re that young y’re immortal. At least ye think ye be. Naething can touch ye; charmed ye are. Everything comes out all right, every ending be happy. She simply went off to help her brother.”

“All right. Tell me, why did her brother leave?”

“I aver to find for himself what ye were trying to force him to accept.” Mum closed her eyes then, and began to quietly rock back and forth, the sadness of the world etched in her face.

______

“Here he comes!” Jack dropped his end of the crosscut saw and fought his way through undergrowth out toward the track. The stakeside came slooshing and sliding down the miry trail. Colin left the saw where it was, buried halfway in a fallen jarrah. He waded out to the track also, through the drizzling rain and the tangled wet weeds clawing at his shins and ankles. Les and Woppo emerged from the bush and joined him for the final quarter mile hike into camp.

Under the big canvas tarp that served as kitchen, dining hall, office, and men’s dorm, Mr. Brekke sat thumbing through a ledger. “Come on, you coves. Payday.”

Jack stepped in front of Mr. Brekke, first in line, his big hand out flat. Brekke counted out several bills and handed them not to Jack but to Hannah behind him. “Here you go, cook.”

She beamed. “Thank you, Mr. Brekke.” She looked beyond Les and Woppo to Colin at the end of the line. Her smile spoke volumes.
My firstjob! My first pay! Be happy with me!
She glowed, so utterly pleased that Colin could do nothing else but join in her enthusiasm. He grinned broadly.

As each received his week’s pay, Colin watched Hannah back at her work. She had removed the top and bottom from a tin can to make a biscuit cutter. She patted out the mass of dough with the heels of her hands, for she had no rolling pin to do it properly. She pressed the tin into the dough, smoothly and deftly cutting the neat white circles. Actually, her biscuits weren’t bad. Two wallaby haunches roasted by the fire and six potatoes nestled in the stones around the flrepit. Colin had taught her everything she knew about cooking on an open fire.

“Gunner give us a lift into town, Brekke?” Jack counted his pay a second time.

“I’m goin’ to the big town. You coves want to ride in the back of the truck, that’s your affair. But when the truck returns tonight, you’d better be on it or you walk. And if you’re late for work in the morning, I’ll dock you.” He made a few final marks in his ledger and closed it.

Then he rifled around in a hessian sack. “Brought a bonus for all you hard-working lads.” Bottles clonked together as he pulled them from the bag.

“This better not replace the five quid you promised us at the end.” Jack watched him suspiciously.

“Naaah. We cut half again as many sleepers as I’d expect from a crew this size. Just a little thanks from the boss. Here you go, cook.” Brekke handed a bottle of ale to Hannah.

She glanced wide-eyed at Colin, surprise written on her face. “Th-thank you, Mr. Brekke, but I don’t touch spirits.”

“Sure you do.” He laughed. “You’re a big girl now, making your own way. Ain’t gunner hurt you none. Give it a try.”

“No, sir, really. Um, thank you. . . .” Her eyes flashed again to Colin.
Help me, please!

But it was Jack who sprang to her defense. “Give it up, Brekke. If the cook’s shickered, we eat worse than usual. She’s right and you’re wrong.”

Brekke glared at Jack, but he withdrew the bottle and his offer, handing it instead to Colin who passed it on to Jack.

Colin shrugged and grinned. “If I get stinko, I’ll forget which log I buried the crosscut in.”

“Three pen’worth of God help us,” the burly Norwegian muttered, and it was not a supplication.

By common consent the sleeper-cutters quit work early that Saturday afternoon. By equal consent, they hid the stakeside’s distributor cap, just to make certain Brekke would not leave for town without them. Woppo asked to borrow the horse, so Colin saddled Max’s Lady and they ran her up a plank into the stakeside. Snapping and snarling at anyone nearby, Max scrambled up behind the horse and lay cowering at her clumsy feet.

Brekke invited Hannah into the cab with him. Hastily and firmly she insisted upon riding in the back with her brother. Was she afraid of him, of some recent confrontation? Colin felt a heavy sense of dread again. Brekke fumed and sulked, but couldn’t force her in front of the others. He asked a few more times, but she insisted no, and Jack and Colin backed her up. She rode in back.

The old stakeside galloped full tilt down the dusty, ragged track. Max’s Lady splayed her feet and braced herself, white-eyed. Everyone bounced along, laughing and falling against one another. Colin quickly and gleefully got caught up in the carefree atmosphere. “Where are you going that you need a horse, Woppo?”

“Cakeshop first, then the pubs, in that order. Never been to Ravensthorpe before.”

“A cake shop!” Hannah grinned. “I’ve not had sweets in ever so long! Let’s stop, Colin, please!”

Jack shook his head and growled at Woppo, “You watch what you say in front of the little lady. You know better’n that.”

Hannah frowned, looking confused.

“A cakeshop ain’t what you think,” Jack stammered.

Hannah shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Jack nodded. “And you keep it that way, milady. You’re a fine lass, Hannah, brought up right; stay that way. And one other thing—when we get a few pints under our belts, we ain’t always the gentlemen we oughta be. So if one of us gets to pestering you-Nels Brekke in particular-you just call on one of us to protect you. Yre a fair dinkum young lady—I come to know that this week, watching you—and we don’t want to see you spoiled.”

Hannah looked at Colin, more perplexed than ever.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Colin assured her, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Brekke.

Everyone clambered out the back of the truck as soon as they arrived in Ravensthorpe, babbling about real cooked meals. Woppo disappeared on Max’s Lady. Down the dirty little town’s main street came a truck even sorrier and noisier than the stakeside. Three men in the open cab laughed and waved as they passed, and the four in the back shouted something unintelligible.

Brekke yelled something back at them, laying a huge hand on Hannah’s shoulder, and headed for a pub. “This way, lads. The blackfeller who drays our sleepers from Lake King to the railway claims this is the best around.”

The best around lacked certain amenities. Chairs, for instance. Patrons arrayed themselves on stools and benches. And cleanliness. The bare tables sorely needed wiping. What the place lacked in furnishing and cleanliness it made up for in multilegged creatures. Spiders had laced the sooty ceiling end to end with webs. Flies easily outnumbered customers ten to one, maintaining a steady drone above the normal hum of conversation.

Brekke paid for Hannah’s dinner, then tried in vain to get her to take a drink, whether it was his shout or not. Eventually Jack and Les went for a game of pool in the back room. Colin felt suddenly alone and out of sorts.

Brekke hoisted his bulk to his feet and announced, “Hannah and me, we’re gunner go find a picture show. You stay here, Sloan,” he winked, “and make sure you’re back at the truck in time.”

“My sister’s too young to be in your company. Either she stays here, or I go with you.”

“Crikey, lad, it’s just a flaming picture show. Any man here will agree she ain’t no little girl, but there’s nothing to go butchers about. C’mon, cookie.”