Like Twigs in a Storm

by Ross Richdale

  His fingers found the box. A match flared to life and he lit the nearest candle. From that, Steve lit a second candle and tossed three pieces of wood on the fire. White smoke smothered the wood for a second before, with a faint puff, they caught alight.

  He heard a slight scrape; a beam of torchlight flashed across the room and a blast of freezing air hit him. Lavina stepped in and shut the outside door.

  "Oh Steve, go back to bed." She stood shivering in her pyjamas, her face pale and lips blue.

  "Were you sick again?"

  She nodded. “My headache's gone," she said. "At least that's something."

  "Good." Steve took her hands and kissed her lightly on the lips. She responded and stood shivering in his arms for a moment. "Now, get a jersey on and I'll make us a hot drink."

  "I'd like that," Lavina responded and slipped away to the bunkroom. Steve filled the kettle, placed it on the open fire and searched for the coffee. Lavina was back by the time he had two mugs ready to receive the water. She sat on the couch and pulled on her jersey.

  "I feel a little better now, Steve." Their eyes met and she smiled. "Do you know it's raining outside? That freezing drizzle."

  Steve nodded and sat beside her as the flames curled around another log and, with a crackle of sparks, burst alight sending warm air into the room.

  "What do we do now?" Lavina asked. "Cathy still can't walk very far and I feel as if every bone in my body is creaking. The weather's turned to the worse, too."

  "Well, we have food and warmth here so tomorrow." He grinned and glanced at his watch, "...Today actually, we just stay put. It will be two or three days before we have to start worrying about our food supply."

  "It's cosy here," Lavina said. "I feel so secure with you here. It's like our own little world and I can forget about Grant, the farm, everything. The two people I love are with me and, at the moment, that's all I need."

  The kettle began to boil, Steve filled the coffee mugs and handed one to Lavina. "I feel the same," he said quietly. "So let's get Cathy and you fit before we plan our next move." He smiled. "Your rat bag husband did the opposite of what he wanted, didn't he?"

  "How?" Lavina's hazel eyes gazed up with some of the sparkle returned to them.

  "He drove us together. This is the longest we've been with each other, our third night and lots to come."

  Lavina sipped her coffee. "I'm never going back to him. Not after this. Even if you don't want to make a commitment."

  "Lavina!" Steve retorted. "Stop it! We've been through all that. Get it in that crazy little head of yours that I want you, I need you and I love you. Stop running yourself down."

  "Even now, sick as a dog and looking ninety?"

  "Of course, isn't that what love is?" He reached across and kissed her cheek.

  "Nobody's treated me with such kindness before," Lavina responded in a whisper. "As a child my mother was okay but nagged all the time and was over impressed by appearances. 'Straighten your shoulders, Lavina,' she used to say. 'You'll end up looking like an old woman.' Dad was a businessman and usually ignored me." She shrugged. "He was kind hearted in his own way and a good provider. Then I had four good years at high school, came to Upper Forks Road and that's it. Grant never really cared. I was his dolly bird and housekeeper. I remember when I was ill once. He just swore and cursed because his breakfast was late."

  "Pity he didn't meet my ex," Steve chuckled. "They'd deserve each other. Trish just loved our big house, the bridge club and socializing. I was a good provider. I remember her screaming at me when I told her three years back, I was going to leave the university and set up my own business. In her eyes, she was going to lose her social standing. I didn't care about trying to keep up with the bunch of hypocrites of the, so-called, establishment. That's why we grew apart and finally separated."

  "And how is the business?" Lavina asked.

  "Best move I ever made." Steve grinned. “I'll never be a millionaire but we're doing reasonably well. There are frustrations, of course, like when we spent two months working on a contract and the firm went bankrupt and just about dragged us down with it."

  “We're broke," Lavina said. "The bank's about to foreclose on the farm mortgage. We'll have to sell. Stupid isn't it?" She glanced up from her coffee mug. "Grant was the only son and had the farm just handed onto him when his father died ten years ago. But he didn't appreciate it. All he did was go from one harebrained scheme to the next. He went into deer farming, spent hundreds of thousands of dollars building those massive fences and stocking the place. I don't think he made even one season's profit. Now the export of deer meat has collapsed. Then he spent five thousand dollars buying some Angora rabbits." She laughed sarcastically. "He was going to make a fortune but some wild rabbits got in with ours, the offspring were a disaster and that was that. He even tried growing wheat on a hillside.

  The trouble is he never sticks to anything. He bought an eight thousand dollar pedigree bull that dropped dead five months later." She frowned. "Every time something failed it was my fault. I kept hoping things would improve but they just got worse." She wiped a hand over her face. "Farming is hard now-a-days, even for the most conscientious and careful farmer. Grant is neither."

  "Well, forget about him," Steve said. "He's got a lot to answer for when we get out. Kidnapping and attempted murder are serious crimes. I'm sure he never meant for us to survive this long."

  "But we will survive!" Lavina's voice was determined. "And I hope I'm there when the police car rolls in and drags him away to jail, whimpering."

  *

  Morning arrived with the sun hidden by a thick fog as misty rain hit the windows. Steve lit the stove and was preparing breakfast when Cathy staggered out, all yawns and sighs.

  "My God," she moaned. "Don't Mum and you know what sleep is? Every time I woke up you two were in here yakking your heads off."

  "And where's your mum now?" Steve asked.

  "Sleeping, of course," Cathy snapped. She grabbed a coat around her shoulders and disappeared out to the toilet and returned a few moments later with an arm full of firewood from the lean-to where it was stored. Without saying anymore, she proceeded to build the main fire and, within a few moments, it was blazing away.

  "Some breakfast?" Steve asked. "It's spaghetti this morning. Sorry there's no toast."

  "Thanks,” the youngster replied. She sat at the table and gazed out the window at the fog. "Well, I guess we won't be going far today.” She grinned. “Not that I mind. I like it here."

  "How are your feet this morning?"

  Cathy screwed her nose up. "Itchy. Still swollen but the blisters have dried. They're just a flap of loose skin now."

  "Good but try to keep off them as much as possible today."

  Cathy glanced at him and smiled. "You really care, don't you Steve?"

  Steve chuckled. "Well, you're pretty heavy to lug all the way home." He glanced up as Lavina walked in. Her face had more colour and she smiled warmly at them both.

  "I'm hardly needed around here, am I?"

  "Not needed but still wanted, Mum. You know there's flour and all sorts of things stored in those bottles and tins. What say that after breakfast we cook up some scones?"

  "Sounds great."

  *

  While Lavina and Cathy cooked, Steve went out in the misty rain to explore the immediate area. He ambled along in the opposite direction from the uphill track they had used on their arrival to where another one led down in a curve through thick foliage. Tumbling water could be heard ahead and from the sound, it appeared to be more than the tiny stream they'd originally followed.

  Steve walked around the bend and there it was; a small river five or six meters wide with murky water running quite high and fast past him. The middle looked at least waist deep. Across the opposite bank, he could see where the track led into the bush. He glanced along the banks and gave a sigh of satisfaction. Fifteen meters downstream was a small shed with a ramp leading into the water.

  N
ow if there was a boat inside...

  Steve pushed through the overgrown track until he arrived at the shed. As well as a double door at the top of the ramp there was a small wooden one on his side that was locked with a small padlock.

  He pushed his way to the ramp, slid under a wooden barrier and shook the double door. It was held fast by an inside latch. He made his way across and squinted in the gap between the two doors. The interior was dark but Steve was sure something was there.

  He wiggled the doors again and spied a small ground latch. Now if he could wedge that up he could swing the doors outwards. Steve hunted around and found a stick that could work. After a little prodding and manipulating, he used the stick to push the latch sideways. It took five attempts and a few choice words before the latch lifted and the doors came forward with a squeak of rusty hinges.

  "Oh my God!" Steve gasped. Inside, sitting on the wooden floor was an almost deflated orange and blue rubber raft, about four or five meters long. It was covered in dust and spider webs and seemed unused for a considerable time. Upon closer inspection his heart sank. It was well past its use by date and so flat he doubted if it would float. On the positive side, there seemed to be no holes or rips in it.

  Steve inspected the boat shed. Six paddles and small life jackets were slung overhead across the rafters. At the end was a workbench littered with odd tools, containers of paint and other chemicals and a coil of rope. There was no indication of who the owners were. He guessed it would be some tramping club, scouts or perhaps a school.

  He yanked open a cupboard door under the bench.

  "This could help," he muttered, pulling out an old style tyre pump. When he pumped, air puffed out the front fitting. "Now if the raft has no punctures ..." He flopped it over until he found two valves, one appeared to be for the sides and the other, the floor. The connection fitted and when he pumped, he could tell the air was going in. He continued pumping for ten minutes without any noticeable difference to the raft.

  "So we won't have to walk out after all!" Lavina's voice made him jump in fright.

  He turned and saw her smiling at the door. "Look at it." He chuckled and wiped a perspiring brow. "Our journey home, my dear. It'll take a while to inflate but if there are no holes..."

  "I'll have a turn," Lavina offered and took over the pumping while Steve stretched his shoulders to relieve an aching back.

  *

  "You look like a gangster." Cathy laughed half an hour later as Steve stood up again and used a handkerchief to wipe perspiration from his neck and three day's growth of whiskers.

  "I'll do some," Cathy offered and grabbed the pump. She did an amazingly good job and pumped for several minutes before handing it over to her mother.

  When the sides were largely inflated, they switched their attention to the floor section until the craft began to resemble its proper proportions. It was almost hexagonal shaped with the two cylindrical sides bending in at the front and rear to meet at curved ends. The top had eyelets around with a nylon rope threaded through while two cross members kept the craft rigid. The floor consisted of flatter inflated sections similar to air mattresses used on camping trips.

  By early afternoon it was completely inflated. Cathy had to try it straight away and sat on one of the cross members grinning. "How's that, Steve?" She laughed.

  "Great!" He glanced out at the rain and choppy water. "We'll test it in the water tomorrow. It's a bit wet out there now and we don't want to get soaked again."

  *

  Later, after a refreshing shower, Steve sat at the table with the others and examined the logbook map, which was a photocopy of a topographical map with sections highlighted in yellow felt tip.

  "The river is like a giant 'S' while the track crosses the centre over the ridges. By going this way we would bypass the second hut here." His finger pointed to a small square on the map. "But the third hut appears to be at the riverside here. If we can travel to this hut it will only be a day's walk to the road."

  "Why don't we just keep going?" chipped in Cathy who was leaning over the end of the table taking in every word.

  "There's no map of the lower river," Steve explained. "There could be waterfalls, rapids or anything ahead. See this," he added, pointing to a wriggly line just beyond one of the bends. Canyon-Grade 2 Rapids was written in italic writing along the edge. "White Water Rafters rank rapids from one to five," he said. "I've been on a Grade Three river and that was scary. Even Grade Two can be pretty swift."

  Lavina frowned. "Too risky?"

  "If necessary I'll go ahead and check any rapids," Steve promised. "If it seems too rough, we can carry the raft along the shore beyond it."

  "Okay but I'm going to hold you to that promise." Lavina replied.

  Steve glanced up and, without warning, plunked a kiss on her face. She flushed and stepped back but smiled when her partner winked at her. "It's a promise," he said. " I think it'll take most of a day to travel down the river, through the giant 'S' until we came to the third hut. It's pure guesswork, though. We have no idea how fast the water is moving. We might not even be able to get through if it becomes too shallow."

  "So we go prepared," Lavina said. "We need to get the tent and all our clothes clean and dry and take all the food we can. It would be stupid to rush off, get stranded half way down and wish we were back here."

  *

  Wednesday dawned cool with a morning fog that didn't lift until noon. The trio were busy. Clothes were washed and dried in front of the fire and on a makeshift clothesline under the back porch and Steve checked out the boat shed. The raft had remained inflated over night and Lavina took down a bucket of soapy warm water to wash it down. The life jackets were mainly children's sizes but two were adjusted to fit the adults and Cathy just managed to squeeze into one of the smaller ones.

  "The gear must belong to some children's club or school," Lavina noted. "We'll have to find out when we get home and contact the group."

  "I'd say it's a while since anyone's been here using these," Steve said as he tightened the straps on Cathy's life jacket.

  "It was the summer before last," Cathy said. "I looked back though the logbook. A school party was here but I think they were just visiting. They did mention hiring gear from one of those service clubs."

  "Real detective aren't you?" Steve chuckled. "That would fit in with the condition of everything." He glanced out at the sky. "The weather looks stable," he said. "I suggest we have everything ready and leave at first light in the morning."

  *

  A haze hung over Top Ridge Hut as Steve shut the door for the last time. Except for using food and firewood, the trio left the building exactly how they'd found it. The fireplace and stove were cleaned and set up ready for the next trampers to walk in. Steve had split another load of wood with an axe he'd found in the lean-to and piled it neatly on the hearth.

  The mattresses had been turned sideways on the bunks and the kitchen and bathroom left clean and tidy. Lavina filled in the logbook and included details of what they were about to do, apologized to any possible owners of the raft and provided contact numbers and a promise they would replenish the food supplies after their return to civilization.

  "Bye old hut," Cathy called as she lugged the last plastic bag of gear down to the boat shed to where the raft was sitting sedately on the ramp. Food and equipment had already been packed and tied securely in the middle of the raft with a rope from the shed. The eyelets around the top of the raft were designed well, so unless it was completely flipped over, their belongings would be secure.

  Lavina smiled at her daughter. Cathy was wearing her shoes and walked with almost no limp now that Steve had cut the toes out of them so the sore toes wouldn't be squashed again. After explicit instructions on how to paddle, what orders to follow and the usual safety procedures, Steve checked to see that everyone's life jacket was secure before the three slid the rubber raft into the water and jumped aboard.

  "Ready?" Steve asked. The mother and daughte
r looking chubby in their yellow life jackets, nodded and he pushed the raft away from the ramp. With a quick paddle, he manoeuvred the craft midstream where it bounced in the moderately fast current and their home for almost three days disappeared from sight. For two hours they drifted along at a leisurely pace with the only problem being a couple of shallow spots where they had to jump into knee deep water and guide the raft through. Once there was sufficient depth again, they clambered aboard and relaxed.

  For early winter, it was a perfect day with the sun warming them when it was directly overhead. However, shadows from the valley often cut the direct sunshine out as the river twisted around numerous bends. It was unnecessary to paddle but Cathy enjoyed poking her paddle into the water or using it to push the raft away from protruding rocks. The murmur of the water tumbling past rocks was constantly with them. There was also the sound of numerous bush and aquatic birds calling out in the trees. At one point, a dozen gigantic Canada Geese were disturbed and flew, honking into the air.

  The valley through which they travelled became narrow with dense bush towering above them on each side. Broad shingle areas filled the area between water and trees while everywhere were smooth grey rocks that caused the raft to bounce along the choppy water. Water splashed up constantly and Lavina, at the front, seemed to get the brunt of the spray. It was cold but not too uncomfortable. She grinned after one wave saturated her hair and jersey.

  "Oh well," she called back to the others. "Now that I'm soaked, the water can't make it any worse."