Chapter 11 Big trouble
Bending down, Noah touched the old man's wrinkly hand. Swiftly though, he drew back in alarm.
The skin was icy cold.
The hand was stiff.
The old man was dead.
Very dead.
Noah ran back to his grandmother who was coming through the last clump of trees. "He's dead, Gran, and there are pelicans all around him."
"Dead? -- -- -- Are you sure? -- -- -- How awful! -- -- --," said Gran, her breath coming out in little gasps.
"Just when I thought we were safe," she continued, "Now we won't be able to find our way to the farm. And we won't be able to give this poor man a decent funeral."
Noah thought for a few moments and then his eyes lit up as he said, "I think I can remember the way. Old man Snow told me the directions."
The words played like a CD in his head.
It's easy to find.
Just follow the stream till you reach a dam.
You'll find a shed with a pump inside.
Next to the shed is a track.
Follow the track -- in a northerly direction -- until you reach the house.
"I can find the way," declared Noah confidently.
"I'm going to stay here," Gran said, her face pale, "to have a rest and protect the old man's body from hawks and eagles."
The pelican with the limp flapped her wings indignantly and Noah exclaimed with a small laugh, "I think Pearl is already looking after him!"
Frowning a little, Noah went on, "You don't look very well. Would you like me to leave Prince with you?"
"No, you take him. With Star, Coo and the pelicans, I won't be lonely. And I'm sure I'll feel better when I've had a rest.”
Placing a handful of dry leaves and twigs on the dying embers of the old man's campfire, Noah blew gently. As the flames leapt into action, Noah added more wood. Then he collected together a large supply of dead branches and stacked them beside the fire.
"The fire will keep you warm," Noah said, "and the old man's coat will help as well. And if you want to lie down, these possum skins will make a good bed. Will you be okay?"
"You just take good care of yourself and don't worry about me."
"I found some honey and some jam, and I’ll leave you a bottle of water from the stream," said Noah, reluctant to leave his grandmother. "But I can't find anything else to eat."
The stream, bordered by rocks, rough tangled vegetation and trees, proved difficult to follow -- but at least it was downhill. Finding the dam and the shed were easy. Observing that the rough bush track branched out in several directions from the shed, however, Noah felt a growing sense of unease.
Which track should he follow? Which way was north? Would his grandmother be all right, up there on the mountain? Would he ever find help?
Noah chose the most well-worn track and began walking. With the sun beaming its rays directly into his eyes, he guessed he was going in the right direction. He shielded his eyes with one hand. His head was hurting. Partly from glare. Partly from stress.
Noah became more and more tired. It was a long time since he and his grandmother had eaten their smoked eel and pig face salad. At long last, around a tight bend in the track he saw the house.
It was quite close.
Smoke drifted from its chimney.
There was a white ute in the driveway.
Washing hung on the line.
The muted sound of a radio floated from a window.
Seconds later, three black and tan sheep dogs rushed towards Noah and his retriever dog. Prince wagged his tail. He refused to growl, bark or fight.
"It's okay," Noah said soothingly to the three kelpies who’d come to a rapid halt in a spray of gravel in front of them. "We're not here to cause trouble. But we do need help."
Noah heard a back door slam shut.
"G'day," called out a man, striding towards him. "Can I help you?"
Noah was close to tears. He swallowed with difficulty before replying in a rush, "An old man is dead, up on the mountain. And my grandmother is not very well and needs help."
Taking in Noah's long unkempt hair and tattered clothes, the man, who'd been joined by a son of about Noah's age, said quietly, "Don't stare, Adam. I know he looks strange, but he needs help.
"What’s your name, lad?"
"Noah," he replied, then continued in a rapid high voice, "A tsunami came to our island. The moon birds warned me. We escaped in a dinghy.
"My grandfather had put the dinghy on top of the roof. Years beforehand," Noah added, matter-of-factly, "and everyone said he was going dotty.
"But he wasn't, because we needed it! Anyway, we lived in the dingy for I don't know how many days and eventually landed on a beach. We built a hut in the rainforest, and lived in the mountains for a very long time. We couldn't find any people."
Putting a comforting arm around Noah's shoulder, the red-headed man said, "Everyone calls me Red and this is my son, Adam.
"But that tsunami was nine months ago! Your family and friends must be frantic with worry. Though I expect, by now, they think you're dead. How amazing that you and your grandmother survived!
"Adam, run and find your mother. Help her gather together some food, a thermos of tea and a couple of large sheets. I'll grab a first aid kit, some blankets and water -- and I'll phone the police. They need to know about the old man’s death, but especially of Noah and his grandmother's survival.
"We'll take the ute as well as the truck.
The journey back didn't take long, except for the last bit.
Walking up the stream -- from the dam to the large blackened tree -- was hard work. Noah was even more tired now, and the rocks, tangled creepers and grasses frequently tripped him. Finally though, they reached the tree. And the pelicans, standing guard.
Red and his wife Jess made a quick assessment. Almost immediately, Red grabbed his mobile and dialled for an ambulance. Noah's grandmother had lost all her colour and had chest pain.
Jess, who was a nurse, wrapped a blanket around Gran, and then said soothingly, "Can you swallow this aspirin with a few sips of tea?
"That's good," Jess encouraged. "Now lie down here and put this tablet under your tongue. It should help your heart."
Jess’ long black hair fell in a protective curtain around Noah's grandmother.
Noah stood by in a daze. Events seemed to be galloping out of control. It was like he was not there. Yet he was. He moved closer to his grandmother. Anxiously he knelt down beside her and took her hand in his.
"I'll be all right," she whispered, through lips as blue as the sky above. "Now that you’ve found help we’ll be okay. Thank you. You've been brave and shown great strength. I'm very proud of you."
Tears streamed down Noah's face. He couldn't stop them. It was like he couldn't be brave or strong any longer.
Passing Noah a handkerchief, Red said gently, "The paramedics will give your grandmother oxygen as well as other things to make her feel better. At the hospital, doctors will work out what's wrong and fix her up. So try not to worry. Things are under control."
"And you can stay with us," Jess added warmly, "for as long as it takes to find your parents. You'll be very welcome and Adam will love having you around."
"But we need your help now," said Red. "Adam and I have wrapped Snow in a couple of sheets -- with a lot of interference from the pelicans! Those birds have been bonded to old man Snow for a very long time. But that's another story.
"We need your help to carry Snow down to the truck," Red continued. "Are you up to it?"
Noah nodded his head, sniffed noisily and then stood up. Stiffly.
The pelicans followed the draped corpse to the truck, flying overhead in a low, slow formation of wings. Flapping then gliding. Flapping then gliding. Long necks outstretched, short legs tucked beneath plump bodies. A naked pink ring around each eye. Eyes, soft and dark.
But they were not happy. Their mournful,
low-pitched calls reminded Noah of his moon birds.
Eventually, back at the dam, Noah, Red and Adam lowered the corpse into the back of the truck. Prince stood quietly to one side. Noah's arms ached. So did his back.
Red reversed the truck into the shade of a clump of trees.
The pelicans hovered low then landed heavily on a thick branch. From their position high up in the tree, they looked down on the body of their friend, Snow. They muttered amongst themselves, ruffled their wings, clacked their bills and settled to wait. To watch. To protect their friend.
Within minutes, an ambulance and a police car came into view and then drew to a halt beside Noah, Red and Adam. In no time at all, Red was leading the way along the track towards the dam, and then showing them the route up the steep rocky stream.
The paramedics strode ahead with their stretcher and gear. Noah, with Prince by his side, stumbled over a tussock and nearly fell. He’d been hiking and running and climbing since dawn. He bent down to drink from the creek. He was too tired to take any notice of his dishevelled reflection.
A policeman who'd made a point of being nearby, offered Noah a hand up from the stream. "You look done in, lad. From all accounts you’ve quite a story to tell. But we’ll wait until your grandmother's safe and you've rested awhile before asking for details."
Back at the blackened forest giant Noah felt like he was watching a film.
Paramedics, working swiftly. Gently. Kindly.
The hiss of oxygen.
Strapping Gran onto the stretcher.
Coo perching on one end.
Star balancing on hind legs, for a better view.
Prince, his head hung low.
Police making notes about the old man's hideaway.
Gathering together his few possessions, into a plastic bag.
Taking a few photographs.
Following the stream down to the dam. Again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The occasional stumble and fall.
The dam.
The shed.
The ambulance.
The ache, as his grandmother disappeared from view.
The wail of a siren as the ambulance approached the main road.
The police car.
Red's ute and farm truck.
The pelicans, squat and silent on the branch above.
Protecting their friend.
Back at the farmhouse, while Jess and Red prepared a quick meal, the pelicans continued to guard their friend. Another vehicle arrived. A funeral car. It was only when the car left with the body that the pelicans decided to take flight too. Back to their home in the wetlands.
"After we've eaten," said Jess, "we'll phone your parents. The police haven't had any luck in contacting them yet, but I'm sure they’ll be home when you ring. So eat up now."
The chair felt strange beneath him. He was not sure how to hold his knife and fork. But the bread tasted soft and was full of crunchy grains and seeds. And the milk was rich and creamy.
"Would you like some chocolate cake to finish up with?" asked Jess, her eyes smiling.
When they tried to phone his parents there was no answer. Not even an answering machine. Noah nearly choked on his disappointment.
"What about a relative or a neighbour perhaps?" asked Red. "Can you give us some names and telephone numbers?"
"Yes. Mrs Smith, next door. Her number is 5678 4513."
"Well, let's try her," said Jess, brightly.
"Will you?" asked Noah, looking uncomfortable.
Mrs Smith was home.
Jess found out that Noah's parents and his two younger brothers were away in the outback, on a camping holiday.
"Do you know their mobile number?" asked Jess.
"Yes. Just a moment and I’ll get it for you. But I can hardly believe your news. It's a miracle!"
Straightaway Jess dialled the number and got on to Noah's father. Noah couldn’t speak. Tears streamed down his face and he sobbed deep into himself.
It seemed that Noah's parents could not speak either -- except for the odd word here and there. They would come straight home. But it'd take at least one week.
"We’ll visit Noah's grandmother and make sure she has everything she needs," offered Jess, "and Noah is welcome to stay here with us, so please, come straight to our home. I'll give you the directions, as well as our phone number.
"Take care and goodbye for now," said Jess, her voice tight with emotion.
Noah rushed outside into the night air, with Prince by his side. A fresh burst of tears threatened to tear him apart. Through blurry eyes he located the wooden gate leading into the small paddock where Star and Coo were housed for the night. With a flap of wings Coo was on his shoulder. With a bleat, Star was beside him, nuzzling his hands. Prince wagged his tail and licked Star’s bottom.
Where is Gran, they seemed to ask.
"In hospital," murmured Noah, "where they’ll make her better."
But what if she dies, they asked, their eyes mournful. Noah couldn't bear the thought of that. The pain would finish him.
Back inside, an hour or so later, Noah saw that Jess had made up a bed for him. On top of the doona he found a large fluffy blue towel, a new toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo and a comb -- as well as pyjamas and a set of clothes for the following day.
He stepped into the bathroom and couldn't help but look into the mirror. Shocked, he looked away. Who was this person he saw, with long, tangled hair, swollen bloodshot eyes and trembling lips?
Noah stripped off and stepped into the shower. He felt the soap slippery on his skin. Felt warm water running down his body. Felt his hair squeaky clean, from the shampoo. Saw dirty water disappearing down the plug hole.
As he towelled himself dry, Noah began to feel much better. It was as if the day and its trauma had drained away, along with the sweat and the grime.
Red, Jess and Adam came in to say good night.
"If there's anything you need," said Jess, stroking Prince's golden head, "please tell us."
"I'll show you my motorbike and the horses tomorrow," offered Adam, quietly. He wished he was allowed to have a dog like Prince, and have him sleep by his bed!
"Your grandmother's in good hands," said Red. "They’ll make her well again."
"What will happen to old man Snow?" asked Noah, suddenly.
"There'll be a small funeral service here in our garden. In two days time."
"Most of our neighbours will come," added Jess. "Snow will be buried nearby, in the town cemetery."
"He was a good bloke," said Red, "even if a little strange."
"Snow was a one-off all right!" continued Jess, with a laugh. "You'll be hearing a lot more about him in the next few days, I'm sure. But you need to sleep now, Noah. So good night and sleep well."