Blood Brothers

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by Charles Beagley


  It was a fine-looking red horse with a long mane and he moved up alongside it and stroked its flank; then, he moved his hand along its back and up its neck and calmly placed the noose over its head. The horse suddenly realised what was happening and raised its head above the others. Willy instinctively took hold of the horse’s mane and leaped onto its back, alerting the rest of the group, who reared their front legs and raced off across the desert taking Willy with them.

  Martin lost sight of Willy and the horses in a cloud of dust that obliterated the scene. It seemed confined to them and he watched the ball of dust disappear into the distance. He was astonished at what had just taken place and for a moment or two sat looking into the distance wondering what was going to happen next. He glanced down at Willy’s cherished possessions, knowing he would never leave them behind and his thoughts returned to his throbbing head.

  Some time later Martin looked up towards the shimmering waves rising from the desert floor and saw something else shimmering in the heat. The image seemed to hang in the air getting larger with every minute until finally Martin saw Willy riding towards him on his red horse. They looked as if they belonged together; it seemed different from the other wild horses. Willy stopped the stallion in the shade beside Martin. He jumped down with no concern that the horse would bolt. It seemed calm, at home with Willy’s casual hand movements across his back.

  “Why did you pick that particular horse?” Martin asked.

  “It’s one of ours,” he said, pointing to the brand on his rump.

  It was a large G within a circle. “What does it stand for?”

  “It’s the Galene brand. We go there.”

  Martin was too tired to ask any more questions. He assumed this was going to be their transport from now on, as he watched Willy remove the noose and fashion it into a more suitable bridle. A wave of emotional relief ran through Martin’s body. He was now convinced someone up there was looking out for him. He knew, despite anything else that might come their way, he was no longer able to place one foot in front of the other.

  Willy lifted Martin to his feet, handed him his spear and boomerang and hanging his gourd across his shoulder, led Martin and the horse a few metres on, towards an old stump. It was high enough for Martin to step up and climb onto the horse’s back. Then Willy climbed on behind Martin, took hold of the loose end of the rope and wound it around their waists, binding them together in case Martin fell off. Once settled, Willy made a clicking sound and the horse moved off.

  “Why is he so calm?” Martin asked as they continued following the trees.

  “Him belong on station…I broke him in.”

  “So he knows you.”

  “Him good horse; he just gets restless…like me.”

  Martin wondered why, of all the horses, they had to run across this one.

  It was an effortless journey; Willy hardly needed to correct him. He seemed to know where he was going. That was reassuring and as soon as Willy felt the horse was comfortable with two on his back he began increasing the pace. It was as if they both could smell the cattle station. And before long, without any prompting, the horse broke into a trot.

  The constant bouncing on the horse’s back must have lulled Martin into a state of torpor. Occasionally he opened his eyes and saw the back of the horse’s neck rising and falling, but little else until the horse slowed down and resumed his earlier canter. The sun was back above his right shoulder, but this time the heat had dissipated. His head was too heavy for him to look up and check, but he guessed it was late and expected the reason they had slowed down was so that Willy could select a camping site for the night.

  In reality, it was late afternoon and Willy was entering the stockyards of Galene cattle station. At first no one paid any attention – a stockman on horseback was a common occurrence – until someone shouted “Willy”; then they all looked up. All the way past the horses’ enclosure, the cattle pens and on to the outskirts of the cattle station buildings, men were looking up and shouting to Willy.

  Willy was sitting ‘high in the saddle’, as they say, although he had no saddle, and he had gathered a crowd behind him. They looked as if they would follow him until the Aboriginal stockman boss walked out into the middle of the dirt road and raised his hand to stop Willy.

  “Who’s this fella then?” the stockman asked.

  “He’s my blood brother, Martin,” Willy exclaimed proudly.

  As the old stockman rubbed his hand across his grey stubble with a questioning look, another commotion stirred the crowd.

  The old stockman boss swung around, lifted both arms above his head and bellowed at them, “Clear off you lot; back to work! It isn’t sundown yet.”

  As they separated and returned to their tasks, a white-coated figure pushed his way through the last of the stockmen. It was the cattle station’s doctor. News of Willy’s arrival had preceded him and the doctor was anxious to see if he was the man everyone was looking for.

  Willy unravelled the rope and took charge of his spear and boomerang so that those who were left could help Martin down from the horse’s back. The doctor could see he was in a serious state. Willy had not noticed Martin’s decline as he’d focused on reaching the cattle station before nightfall.

  “Okay you lot,” the doctor called out. “Carry him into the clinic.”

  Everyone except Willy seemed to know Martin was a celebrity on television. The last few hours the CASA rescue machine had gone into action, spreading the news of a downed plane across the radio bands as well as the media.

  But there was no mention of the one who’d actually saved Martin’s life. As the group disappeared into the clinic nearby, Willy, realising his moment of glory had passed, slowly turned his mount and headed for the horses’ enclosure. At least the red stallion was going to get his reward: a good rub-down and a bellyful of hay.

  CHAPTER 15

  Philip was sitting in his office sipping a large double whiskey. Darkness was overtaking Broome and he sat there with only the automatic light from the hall. Elsie walked into the open doorway and stood there for a moment.

  “Do you want me to switch the light on before I leave?” she asked.

  Philip looked up from his thoughts. “What? Oh no, Elsie, leave it.”

  “I suppose you’re relieved now CASA has taken over. Did you see the media coverage on the television?”

  “No, I didn’t. They told me what they were going to do to narrow down the new search area. I was just thinking of the effect it would have on Kate.”

  Elsie was about to reply to him when Josh walked up behind her. “Oh Josh. Don’t creep up on people like that,” she said, moving over.

  “Sorry darlin’. I thought Philip would like to hear my latest news.”

  Philip finished his drink. “And what news would that be, Josh?”

  “They’ve found Martin.”

  “What…already?”

  “Yes, boss…that’s the power of the media for you.”

  “How? Where?”

  Josh referred to his message sheet. He stepped back into the light to read it.

  “The Aborigine took him to a cattle station about twenty kilometres south-west of the crash site,” he said, walking into the room and placing the paper on Philip’s desk. “Luckily they have a doctor there. He radioed in the news.”

  “Have you informed CASA?”

  “Bryce took care of that, boss. He also cancelled all the flights.”

  Philip looked relieved. He poured another drink, saw the expression on Josh’s face and took out a glass and poured him one too.

  “What about Kate?” Elsie questioned.

  Philip put his glass down and shook his head. “You’re right. I should get down there before CASA does.”

  “What about Mr Kingston?” she reminded him.

  “Oh yes, Elsie,” he said, glancing at his watch. “We’ve got a meeting in ten minutes. That’s why I was having a drink.”

  “Or two,” she reminded him again. “
You can’t drive down to Cable Beach smelling of whiskey.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “It will be if a policeman pulls you over,” Elsie said, noticing the dilemma on Philip’s face. “Why don’t I go and see her on my way home.”

  “You live on the other side of town,” Josh interrupted.

  “I’ll go the long way round.”

  After being alerted to the earlier news broadcast about the plane crash, Kate was sitting in the lounge waiting for the seven o’clock news when Elsie arrived. She thought Elsie had called to ask if she’d seen what CASA had put together about the story and welcomed her in to hear the broadcast.

  “Did you hear what they said, Elsie? I missed it,” Kate said.

  “They’ve found him, Kate,” Elsie replied.

  “Yes. I’m waiting to hear. Sit down.”

  Adam and Jennifer were amazed and rushed over to hug her.

  “What?” she said.

  “Didn’t you hear Elsie, Mum?” Jennifer said. “They’ve found Dad.”

  Kate looked shocked. Her wide, watery eyes were darting from one to the other in disbelief. “They’ve found him?” she said, looking at Elsie.

  Elsie nodded her head and took hold of Kate’s hand. “Yes, Kate. We just received a radio message from a cattle station saying the Aborigine brought him in.”

  Kate’s face lit up. “Is he all right?”

  “We don’t know much yet, but it was a doctor that sent the message.”

  Kate took hold of Elsie and hugged her. “Thank you, Elsie. I don’t know how I was going to get through another night. And thank Philip for me.”

  “I will. He apologises for not coming himself but he was stuck in a meeting with the big American. Among other things, they’re working out the details about Joe’s death. So you can imagine the state he’s in.”

  “Oh, I forgot all about poor Joe,” Kate said. “Has he left a wife and children?”

  “He was divorced some years ago. Luckily there are no children, but he has a mother in Sydney. He was all she had.”

  “I would like her address, when you have the time.”

  “I will, Kate. Now I must go. Philip will speak to you tomorrow.”

  “Let me show you out,” Adam said.

  Adam walked Elsie out to her car and stood by the open door. “Have you any idea what’s going to happen now?” he asked.

  Elsie smiled at him. “I don’t really, Adam. I’m only a small cog in the works, but I would imagine they’ll try and get your mother out to Martin.”

  When Adam walked back into the house he was surprised to hear raised voices coming from the lounge and even more surprised to see his mother and Jennifer opening a bottle of wine.

  “Come on, Adam,” Kate called out, taking hold of him. “We’re celebrating your dad’s return.” She noticed his surprised look. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mum, it’s great that Dad’s alive and safe, celebrate that, but he’s not going to be home in a hurry. We don’t know how bad he is or how long it will be before he can travel. And how are they going to get him back?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “What did Elsie tell you?”

  “Nothing, Mum…she’s only a secretary. Philip will tell you what’s going to happen. But it won’t be about Dad coming home soon. Probably they’ll be making arrangements to get you out to see him.”

  Kate paused, still holding the bottle of wine. “I never thought of that. I’ll have to make arrangements. When do you think I’ll be going?”

  Adam looked exhausted and Jennifer took the bottle out of her mother’s hand and sat her down. “Mum…slow down. You won’t know anything until Philip rings. He does have other things to take care of; you heard Elsie.”

  “Yes… I’m sorry. It’s just that I want your dad home again.”

  It was late. Adam and Jennifer finally turned in and Kate was sitting at her dressing table staring into the mirror contemplating the highs and lows of the past five days. She found herself opening doors in her memory that she always tried so hard to keep shut; like Martin’s near-fatal car crash. But he’d survived, she thought, and kept brushing her hair.

  She glanced at the reflection of the bed and Martin’s empty space.

  She smiled, remembering him watching her brush her hair and remove the make-up from her face. It had become a nightly ritual he enjoyed so much; so often a prelude to a night of love. Then she frowned. It hadn’t always been that way. When they were young and she misunderstood his emotions, she did something that almost ended their marriage.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and the painful memory flooded back. She questioned why now? Why were these past memories of another time in their life together of particular importance? Martin was not dead and he was not about to die; yet that one silly incident filled her thoughts as if it was yesterday.

  They were getting to know each other. Exploring likes and dislikes, in particular, the signals that stirred each other’s emotions. In Kate’s naivety, she misunderstood Martin’s innocent attraction to a young film star who had short blonde hair. Her solution was to cut hers and style it to look the same.

  Martin’s reaction terrified Kate and it took ages before he would talk to her again. Eventually he softened. He even began to like her new look, and when she decided to let it grow back again, he told her to leave it; it suited her. He had no idea why and she was not about to tell him; she was only happy she had him back again.

  By mid-morning the following day there was no word from Philip, and Kate looked as though she was going to spend the rest of the day next to the phone. Jennifer had to call in at the university to receive her end-of-year results and Adam decided to get his mother out of the house.

  “Come on, Mum…let’s go into town and have lunch and do some Christmas shopping before the stores get busy.”

  She looked up at him with a surprised expression on her face. “Good heavens. I’d forgotten all about Christmas,” she said, glancing to where the tree usually stood.

  It was yet another trigger for her tears.

  “Why are you crying, Mum? I should think you would be happy.”

  “Sorry, Adam. It’s just that your dad usually has the tree up, ready for me to decorate, by the second week in December.”

  “Then that will be my first job when we get back.”

  “Get back?”

  “Oh Mum…you’re not listening to me. I said let’s go out to lunch and do some shopping before the shops get busy. I don’t think Philip’s going to ring today.”

  “Yes…you’re right. It looks a nice day, so let’s do some shopping.”

  It was Larry Kingston’s sixth day at the AMINCO headquarters and he was driving everyone mad. Philip was doing everything he could to keep him away from operations, but since the planes were stood down from the search, he had resumed his original task of checking into the efficiency of the team.

  With due respect Philip knew he would probably have been less inquisitive if it hadn’t been for his American boss Hubbard checking up on him. Normally Kingston would approach things with a more relaxed attitude; preferring to use his trip to enjoy sight-seeing in Australia than work.

  Sitting in Philip’s office, he was reading the report he’d asked Philip for; the one he was supposed to provide for Hubbard. Philip had a smirk on his face as he watched Larry wade through the massive document. He had asked Bryce to pay particular attention to detail, to enlarge on the different aspects of AMINCO’s operations in this area, and to make sure he dotted the I’s and crossed the T’s. Bryce was particularly good at reports; especially long ones.

  Larry read the five-page summary, then flicked through the rest, before turning to Philip. “Very good…I’ll finish that off in the Lear when I fly to Sydney.”

  “You’re taking the Lear?” Philip questioned.

  “Of course…why?”

  “It’s just that I had arranged to send Mr
s Dexter to the cattle station to see her husband, and if he was fit enough, bring him back to Broome.”

  “That’s all right. She can use the Piper Navajo. I understand it’s scheduled to fly down to Site 21 tomorrow morning. It can easily continue on to this cattle station. In fact she can have it as long as she likes.”

  Philip couldn’t argue with that. “Fine…I’ll make the arrangements,” he said. “By the way…when can we expect you back?”

  “I’ll only be a day in Sydney. I’m attending Joe Cirano’s funeral on behalf of the company; then it’s Melbourne the next day and back here the following.”

  “It’s a pity his mother hadn’t lived with him here, then the whole AMINCO team could have shown their respects at the funeral, instead of just flowers.”

  “Yeah…pity. Still, I shall be taking all your cards with me,” Larry replied in his offhand manner. He was about to leave when he stopped. “Oh, by the way did CASA say when they would be finished with the Cessna?”

  “I have no idea. They’re at the crash site now. I doubt if it would take them more than a day, knowing it’s in the middle of nowhere. Why the concern?”

  “It was something Hubbard said last night. Apparently he’s been talking to CASA and they seem to think the damage is only superficial.”

  “I wouldn’t call a broken wing, left undercarriage and wrecked engine superficial,” Philip replied. “He’s not thinking of flying it out of there?”

  “No way. I think he’s more interested in its spare-part value.”

  Philip laughed. “If the crash had happened here I would suggest it could be repaired. But out there, it would have to be stripped down and transported piece by piece. That would cost a fortune. I don’t know if the Sikorsky could do it.”

  “I see your point. We’ll have to go into it when I get back. In fact that’s something you and the guys can look into. Give me some figures.”

  Kingston picked up his hefty report and left the room without as much as a discussion about Philip’s arrangements tomorrow for Martin’s wife. Once he’d gone Elsie walked in with her notepad.

 

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