Kipp The Kid (5 page)

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Authors: Paul Day

Tags: #coming of age, #first love, #classic adventure, #adveneture mystery

BOOK: Kipp The Kid
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“So, your own mine then? Wow! Have you found any
gold?” she added innocently.

 

Kip chuckled and Jane looked suddenly embarrassed.
“No, no gold in these mines. No gold in this whole district in
fact. Not like New South Wales. Isn’t that where you’re from
originally?”

 

“Katoomba.”

 

“Well, mainly only copper here, plus a little zinc
and the occasional gem stone, if you’re lucky. But the real prize
are these.”

 

Kipp produced a large glass jar with something like
small bones inside it. He placed it on the table and the two of
them sat leaning forward, gazing at the small creature inside.

 

“What is it?”

 

“A fossil. A bird of some kind I think. Complete.
It’s actually just an imprint of the bird. The bones have
dissolved. So what is left is just the shape of the original
bird.”

 

Jane was mesmerized. She peered at the fossil,
fascinated by the find. “Do you have many more?”

 

“Hundreds.”

 

“Are they all from in here?” she asked.

 

“Not all, but some. The rest are from other parts of
the mine.”

 

“Are they worth something?”

 

“Priceless. But only if you’re a collector or a
scientist…I’d reckon.”

 

Kipp opened up a sack full of recent finds and poured
them out onto the table and then grinned. “My latest find”. Jane
grinned back and the two of them started sorting through the pile,
placing each specimen on their own.

When they were almost done, there was a sudden loud
noise which seemed to fill the chamber and dust poured down from
the wooden ceiling. Jane screamed, but Kipp grabbed her by the hand
and they hurried out of the chamber and ran all the way to the end
of the tunnel. Jane noted the red handkerchief, clearly visible in
the beam of Kipp’s torch and the chalk arrow pointing the way out.
Even though she was panicking, those two things were enough to
reassure her they would be ok.

 

“What happened?” she called out panting.

 

Kipp didn’t answer. He just kept on running, dragging
Jane behind him. He’s so fast, she thought and strong. When they
got to the end of the second tunnel, they climbed up the rope
ladder. Kipp made Jane go first. He didn’t have time to explain
why. She was a little embarrassed, but there was no time to argue.
Plus, she was sure Kipp was the perfect gentlemen.

 

When they got near the top of the shaft, there was a
second loud noise that sounded like an explosion. But it wasn’t
coming from the mine, as Jane had thought. It was coming from the
camp.

 

Kipp didn’t take any time hanging around at the top
of the shaft. Instead, he took off towards camp, with Jane hot on
his heels. He was amazed she could keep up at all. Not bad, he
thought, not bad for a girl at all. In his head he had made the
point of making a mental list. Tests that Jane had to pass in order
for him to consider her an equal. So far she had passed three of
them and she had three more to go. Will take risks? Check. Is not
afraid of the dark? Check. Is interested in everything Kipp wants
to do? Hmmmm…check, I guess.

The other three were simple enough. Is she pretty?
Undecided. Can she cook damper? Unknown. Can she climb the Engine
House? I don’t think any girl can do that.

 

By the time they got back to the camp, the damage had
been done. There was a large fire where the campfire had been and
bits of burning wood and smoldering ash was strewn in all
directions. Some grass had caught on fire and there was graffiti
all over one of the chasm walls. If Kipp was angry, he didn’t show
it. Instead he ran down to the camp and got a bucket of water and
started dousing the flames in the grass. Jane arrived soon
afterwards and was beating at the flames with an old sack. When the
fire was out, the two of them stood panting, surveying the damage
done to the campsite.

 

“It’s fixable,” said Kipp through clenched teeth.

 

Jane didn’t say anything right away. She just stood
there silently taking it all in. In her heart she was growing fond
of Kipp. At times he was annoying because of his endless demands.
But she knew a kind and gentle soul when she saw one. She had seen
one before. Kipp, for all his boyishness, for all his quirkiness,
for all his obsessive behavior, reminded her of her own mother. She
shed a quiet tear, meant for the memory of a mother she loved more
than life. But she shed a second tear for the boy she wanted to
love, but didn’t know how to.

 

As she stood there, wondering where they were going
to start, Kipp had already began raking up debris with a large
stick shaped rather like a rake. Jane chipped in, washing the
graffiti off the stone walls. It wasn’t too difficult. It was still
fresh and hadn’t stuck very well to the rock. She used a straw
brush and some soapy water and in the end was fairly satisfied with
the result. Neither of them said much in the hour or so it took to
clean up. It was getting late by the time they finished, so Kipp
got a fire going and Jane set up for tea. It was after they’d eaten
before they finally talked about it.

 

“Who are they?” asked Jane.

 

“Don’t know,” said Kipp in an unusually short way.
This was another side to Kipp Jane hadn’t seen. Normally so
confident and not very shy, Kipp was more thoughtful and withdrawn,
keeping most of his thoughts to himself. “Must be out-of-towners,”
he added, chewing on the last of the damper. Then, as if only just
realizing who had made it, he added, “Not bad. Not bad at all. She
can cook damper. Check.

 

Chapter 6: the sounds of night

 

Jane found herself wandering through the chasm. It
was very late and Kipp had fallen asleep in his swag early in the
evening. She’d been woken by strange noises and because she didn’t
want to wake him, she decided to brave the night and investigate.
She put on her boots and wrapped herself in her oversized jacket,
grabbed Kipp’s torch and crept through the chasm towards the source
of the sound.

 

Even though she had been living in the country since
she was five, she could never get used to the sounds of night. The
unnatural squeal of a fox, a barn owl hooting its ghostly taunt,
the relentless grunting of Koalas, which sounded like wild pigs in
the dark and the occasional hissing of Kangaroos. They all sounded
so alien at night. She used to lay awake in bed and tell herself
she knew what each noise was. But on still nights, the sounds
seemed to echo across the paddocks, finding their way through her
window and into her fearful heart.

 

“The air is cooler and denser at night,” she
remembered someone once telling her. “That’s why everything sounds
different. A dog barking, cats fighting. The sounds are enhanced
and magnified through cold air and with no other sounds, they can
sound quite different.”

 

She made her way almost to the other end of the
man-made chasm. She looked back to see the distant flicker of the
camp fire, which cast jittering shadows up the sides of the chasm
walls. She heard it again. Low, almost mesmerizing. A cry, like
that of a child, only deeper and strained. For a moment she almost
turned around to head back. But then something moved in the shadows
and she saw a flash of pale white disappear around the corner of
the jagged rock face.

 

She was drawn to it, fixated on it. Her desire to
flee was overruled by her desire to know. A fearful voice deep
inside told her it was a ghost. Since her mother died she had
started to believe in ghosts. She had thought she heard her
mother’s voice on occasions, as sure as if she were right there in
the room. For the longest time she had hidden under her sheets,
trembling, but as the months and years passed, she grew used to it,
almost expected it. Other times she felt like someone was behind
her, but when she swung around no one was there. If it had been her
mother, her presence—as much as Jane wanted to see her again—was
most unsettling.

 

She hesitated, before creeping forward.
“Anyone…there?” The shallow echo of her quivering voice was almost
as haunting as the prospect of a ghost. “Hello?” The sudden touch
on her shoulder made her jump and then drop the torch.

 

“What are you doing?” demanded Kipp. Jane held a hand
to her chest.

 

“Don’t ever do that again, Kipp.” Then she thumped
him quite hard on the arm.

 

“Ouch!” Said Kipp, but he couldn’t help a smile. She
fights like a boy, he thought. I’ll add that to my list. It was a
plus as far as Kipp was concerned. That and the fact she was not
afraid to brave the night on her own.

 

“I thought I heard something.”

 

Kipp peered into the dark. He had his torch on, but
the light was dimming because the batteries were going flat. He
whacked it a couple of times and it brightened momentarily.
Suddenly a small fox shot out from the dark and Jane leaped out of
the way. It ran between Kipp’s legs, yelping and squealing as it
tore across the chasm, then darted left sharply and disappeared
into a crevice.

 

“You see, it was just a fox.” He straightened and
gave her a knowing look. Jane grimaced.

 

“Well it didn’t sound like a fox.”

 

“And what exactly did it sound like?”

 

“It sounded like…like a child. A girl in fact, or a
young woman maybe.”

 

“Really?” Kipp didn’t want to tell her about his
dream and about the woman holding out her hands. He tried to play
it cool, but Jane saw something like fear briefly in his eyes. He
turned around before she could confirm her suspicions and started
back towards their camp. Jane shrugged, rolled her eyes and was one
step after him when she heard the noise again, louder this time and
more like a groan. Kipp must have heard it as well, because he
swung around suddenly.

 

 

They froze as they both saw a pale light coming from
around the corner. It was an iridescent green, with a ghostly white
outline. It looked rather like what the negative of a shadow might.
It moved with a steady, deliberate gait. Kipp came back over and
grabbed Jane by the hand. Her hand was cold and she trembled
uncontrollably, but she couldn’t move, like her feet were glued to
the ground.

 

“Jane. Jane. JAANNEEE!”

 

The sudden calling of her name sent Jane into a panic
and she broke Kipp’s grasp and legged it faster than Kipp had seen
any girl run. Kipp was trembling too. But he waited to see who, or
what, would come around the corner. He was almost disappointed when
the sound stopped and the vision faded. And Kipp thought he heard
the echo of laughter, distant, disarming, yet strangely
familiar.

 

He found Jane squatting in the dirt near the fire,
doubled over, rocking back and forth. Kipp had never seen anyone in
shock before, but he recognized it straight away. He took off his
jacket and threw it around her. Then he held her tight to let some
of the warmth from his body comfort her. Her hands were clasped
together so tightly that Kipp saw her knuckles turn white in the
dim morning light.

 

For the longest time he held her. Kipp had never had
a girlfriend, his cousins were too prudish and distant to ever make
body contact and his mother had long since passed this Earth and he
barely remembered her comforting embrace. So hugging a girl did not
come naturally. But despite himself, he held her in a way he
imagined a father might hold his daughter, gently stroking one
shoulder and listening to the steadying rhythm of her uneven
breaths as she struggled to return to something like normal.

 

The sun was up before Jane finally moved her body,
straightening up and looking up into the concerned face of her
neighbor and now friend. She had lived next door to him for six
years and barely knew him. But in the last few days she knew more
about him than she ever could have in all those years.

 

Kipp started to relax when she gave a weak, unwilling
smile. Then she rested her head into the middle of his chest and
exhaled a long, welcome sigh. In Kipp’s mind he wanted to capture
this moment forever. He didn’t want to admit it, but somewhere in
his heart, he was falling for this freckle-faced, fiery, red
headed, beautiful, fragile girl and he suddenly decided he wanted
nothing else in the whole world than feeling the warmth of her body
against his. If this is love, thought Kipp, then it is the
strangest, most unsettling and beautiful feeling in the whole
world. Better than catching a fish, Better than making the climb to
the top of the Engine House, better even than the love he had for
Nip. No offense Nip. Nip cocked his head sideways and let out a
gruff bark. Kipp reached out and rubbed him reassuringly on his
head and Nip panted his satisfaction. Then Nip did something Kipp
would never have guessed he would do. He snuggled in between Jane’s
legs and rested a paw on her hand. With her free hand Jane patted
him almost absentmindedly.

 

If Kipp had been a photographer and had stumbled upon
this scene, he would have taken a dozen photos, had them printed,
framed and placed in a gallery devoted to love.

 

Above them, three boys were whispering and giggling
quietly to each other. One of them had an old box brownie and was
busy snapping shots of the scene below them.

 

“Did you get it? Please tell me you got that?” one of
the boys asked excitedly.

 

“I did,” he said grinning mischievously.

 

“Can’t wait for those photos to come back from the
shop hey?” said the first boy.

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