by David Laing
I’d gone about halfway, already feeling the cold seep through my body, when I saw Snook doing the unbelievable. Gobsmacked, I could only stare. His bum was waving in the air and his legs were sticking out of the water like a duck looking for grubs. The rest of him was hidden somewhere below the surface. I continued to stare. What was he doing? Had he found the bones?
I’d soon find out.
Like a floundering swimmer gasping for air, he burst through the surface. ‘You little ripper!’ he yelled at the top of his voice, holding what looked like a bone high in the air. ‘I’ve found one! I’ve found a bone and there’s more down there.’
‘Something’s not quite right though,’ I said when he waded past me holding his find above the water. ‘It doesn’t look like a dinosaur bone to me; it looks too small.’
‘Who knows if it is, or not?’ Snook said, still excited as he stepped ashore. ‘Well find out soon enough.’ He carried the object, which was a foot long, to the base of a eucalypt tree growing on the bank. ‘At any rate, dinosaurs would have had all sorts of bones, big and small. And you were right; there are heaps of them out there and I know exactly where they are now so I’ll go get ’em.’
Wasting no time, he waded out once again – apparently not feeling the cold. He then continued to dive for the other bones. I waded out a fair way to save him having to walk. He could concentrate on his diving, which was fine with me. Grinning each time, he’d bring each find back to me, none of which I thought looked prehistoric. I’d then take the bone or bones to the shore. It was long, tiring work, but we were getting there. We’d already accumulated a substantial pile that I was stacking up under the eucalypt. After about two hours of this, I started to feel uneasy. ‘Snook,’ I called out to him. ‘These bones definitely look human to me.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Not really, but if you ask me they’re definitely not prehistoric. I think we’d better call the police. Okay?’
‘Yeah, okay,’ he said, looking disappointed. ‘Whatever.’
‘So, where did you put your phone?’
‘It’s back at the camp, in the basket on the front of my bike.’
‘Okay, I’ll run and phone. You can come out and warm up. I won’t be long.’ I didn’t wait for a reply. I turned and sprinted back towards our camp instead.
On the way, I noticed that Blowhard was packing up ready to leave. He looked up when I ran past, but didn’t say anything. Me neither. I wasn’t going to waste time talking to Mr Blowhard; I had more important things to do. Reaching our camp, I raced over to the bikes, found Snook’s phone and rang home.
Snook’s mum answered. Feeling a bit out of breath, I tried to tell her about our find, and how some of the bones looked human to me. I also told her that I wanted to let the police know.
My aunt told me to take some deep breaths and start again – to explain slowly.
Trying to calm down and think straight, I told her all that I knew.
‘Okay,’ she said, taking control. ‘Unfortunately, your uncle’s still out with the boat so I haven’t got the car; it’s down at the jetty, but I think I’ve got the picture. So you and Snook stay put while I ring the police.’
Sergeant McGruff wasn’t having a particularly good day. It was supposed to be his day off, but one of his colleagues had gone home feeling sick. That meant he’d had to take over his duties for the day, and then there was the lady who’d come into the station and demanded that he look for her lost dog that’d chased a cat and hadn’t come home. Luckily, he was able to assign someone else to deal with her. So when the sergeant’s superintendent walked in and plonked an armful of paper-work on his desk, with instructions to complete it all before going home that evening, McGruff’s face took on a glazed look. It sure is going to be one of those days, he thought, just as the phone rang.
‘Sergeant McGruff, Queenstown police speaking; how can I …What? … What did you say? … Your niece and your son have found some bones?’ The sergeant looked up at the ceiling and sighed. What have I done to deserve this? Please, don’t let it be one of those crank calls. Pulling himself together and putting on his best police manner, he asked, ‘Where exactly are these bones, Mrs Kelly?’ Swivelling a sheet of paper towards him, he picked up a pencil, ready to write down an address. ‘What?’ he said, ‘… at a camping spot … near Ghost Mountain. Yes, I know the area. I’ll be there … in about an hour.’ Putting the phone down, he called out to his offsider, a Constable Sweetman, who was busy with something or other behind her desk. ‘Get your hat,’ he said. ‘We’re wanted. We need to go look at a pile of bones.’ Then, after a quick word with the officer at the front desk, McGruff and his partner set out for the gorge camping area.
Chapter 27
* * *
After phoning Snook’s mum, Shadow and I ran back to the campsite to wait for the police. Blowhard, I noticed, was sitting down, drinking what looked like a cup of tea or coffee. When Shadow and I got back to the lagoon, I couldn’t help noticing that Snook had parked himself right next to the bones, practically on top of them. ‘Hi,’ I said, puffing a little. ‘I managed to talk to your mum. She’s going to call the police. So all we have to do now is to wait for them to get here.’
‘Good-oh,’ Snook said and with that, all three of us settled down under the eucalypt tree and waited.
It was mid-morning when a policeman and policewoman walked out of the bush. I hadn’t heard their car so it was somewhat of a surprise. Leaving Snook sitting – he was happy to stay where he was – by the bones, Shadow and I got up and crossed over to meet them. After they had identified themselves and after I’d explained what was going on and what we had been doing, the two officers followed us towards Snook.
‘Hello, young fellow,’ Sergeant McGruff said, pointing to the bones. ‘This young lady tells me you have something to show us.’ Scrambling to his feet, Snook pointed to the bottom of the eucalypt tree where we’d piled the bones. ‘I reckon they could be dinosaur bones but Jars thinks they might be human. That’s why we called you.’ Not saying anything, the two officers marched over to the tree.
‘Me and Jars fished them outta the drink a couple of hours ago,’ Snook said as we followed them.
‘I see,’ the sergeant said, not really looking at us, ‘but why were you in the, er, drink in the first place?’
‘Lookin’ for those bones. Why else?’ Snook said.
‘I see, and what do you know about them? The bones?’
‘Nothin’ much. Only what I said. That they might be dinosaur bones.’ He jabbed a finger in my direction. ‘But Jars thinks they’re too small for that. That’s why she thinks they could be human.’
‘Does she now?’ the sergeant said, locking eyes with mine. ‘What makes you think that, young lady? Are you some sort of expert on the subject or are you just guessing? You shouldn’t make rash statements if you don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Straight away, I didn’t like this policeman’s attitude. I’d have thought he’d be grateful to us – for finding the bones. After all, they could be important. Deciding that it was something else and not us that had put him in such a sour mood, I decided to be civil. ‘I suppose I am guessing but I’m pretty sure they don’t belong to some sort of wild animal. I don’t know of any animal in Australia that has five fingers.’
As though making up for the sergeant’s abruptness, Constable Sweetman smiled and said, ‘That’s very observant of you. I’m sure you’re onto something there.’ She looked across at her sergeant. ‘Should I make the arrangements … to have the bones examined?’
Still looking like he’d swallowed something sharp, the sergeant pulled out a mobile phone from his belt. ‘Of course, Constable,’ he said, ‘that goes without saying. But I’ll take it from here.’ He then spoke into the phone ‘… need a diver … Mucky Lagoon … Ghost Mountain … bones definitely not an animal’s … repeat … not an animal’s … in an hour … good.’ Clicking the phone shut, the sergeant told us that a p
olice diver and photographer were on their way.
Trying to keep the I told you so tone out of my voice, I simply said, ‘So, the bones we found are human.’
My words seemed to panic the sergeant as though he’d just realised what he was dealing with here. ‘We’ll need to put up … er, I mean cordon off the area, Constable. As quick as you can.’
‘Very good, Sarge, I’ll fetch the barrier tape. There’s some back at the car in the boot.’
‘Very well, Constable,’ the sergeant said, as if trying to regain his authority. ‘You do that and hurry back. This could be a crime scene.’
‘Very good, sir,’ she answered, and then, looking over in our direction, she said to Snook and me, ‘Coming? There’s something I want to ask you.’
Chapter 28
* * *
On the way back to collect the police tape, and as we passed Blowhard’s camp, Constable Sweetman said, ‘I wanted to ask you about that poor fellow down there who’s packing up his van. His annex has been completely demolished. Do you know anything about that?’
I looked down on the remains of Blowhard’s camp – a blackened, flooded mess with bits and pieces of annex lying around and sticking out from half-burned bushes. I nodded and told her about the flood and how it had washed most of his annex away downstream, including Blowhard. I didn’t tell her about the fire – she probably saw the remains of it anyway – or how silly I thought he’d been, camping so close to the creek; that wouldn’t have helped. Seemingly satisfied, Constable Sweetman then followed us across the bridge and over to our camp where she immediately went to the boot of the police car for the roll of black and yellow tape. When she came back, I said to her, ‘Snook and have some sandwiches that we brought for lunch. Would you like to share them with us?’
‘That’d be nice,’ she said, ‘as long as you have enough. I don’t think the sergeant brought any lunch.’
‘We’ve got lots,’ Snook said grinning, ‘and this time we’ll be able to have lunch in peace. No interruptions from the dude across the bridge.’
‘Mr Blowhard won’t be disturbing us,’ I said pointing to his van as it passed by our camp. ‘But someone else might. Isn’t that Doctor Huntingdale’s car coming our way once again. I wonder what he wants this time.’
‘And there goes Blowhard,’ Snook said as his camper disappeared down the camp entrance road, leaving a cloud of red dust behind it. ‘He’ll be headin’ back to town, I suppose.’
After watching Blowhard’s van leave, I turned my attention to Mr Huntingdale’s Volvo that had just drawn up. I saw at once that it had passengers; they were sitting in the back, a man and a woman, who looked very old. Doctor Huntingdale, followed by the two elderly people, climbed out of the car. The doctor and the two old folk, both using walking sticks, made their way towards us. I have to say though that I was surprised that there was no Gloria or Quenton Quigley. I could tell Snook wasn’t happy about that; funny chicken noises were coming from somewhere in the back of his throat.
I patted Snook on the back in an attempt to make him stop cackling while Doctor Huntingdale, finding it hard not to stare at the policewoman, helped the two old folk over to us.
Constable Sweetman was the first to speak. She told the doctor that she and her sergeant were out on patrol, which was not exactly a fib. It was close to it though, I thought. Then again, I figured she was probably being smart: not explaining further, not having to mention the bones; not yet, anyway; the time wasn’t right; there would have been a whole lot of innuendo and guessing if she did. And goodness knows where that may have led.
‘This is Mr and Mrs Cooper,’ the doctor told us. He then looked at Snook and me. ‘If you don’t mind, they would very much like to talk to you both about their son’s disappearance.’
Bells rang in my head. Along with other things, the Coopers would want to know all about the kid – our phantom, the apparition, the ghost … whatever it was. The doctor was making it plain enough. He was certainly interested in what we’d seen. And he would have told Mr and Mrs Cooper about it. There was nothing surer – that’s why he and the Coopers were here … to find out as much as possible about our visions. That could be awkward. After all, the kid was a mystery to us too. Neither Snook nor I could begin to make sense of the hallucinations – if that’s what they were –either, let alone talk to someone else about them.
Mrs Cooper, opening and closing her mouth in a noisy, slurping way, looked stressed. Leaning on her husband’s arm for support and pointing her stick at Snook and me, her thin, bony arm shaking, she said, ‘So, you two, what have you got to tell me? Eh? The doctor tells me you’ve seen Aaron. Is that true? Go on, then. Tell me!’ Despite hanging onto her husband, her legs began to wobble and I could see that Doctor Huntingdale wasn’t feeling too comfortable with her state of well-being. He kept putting his hand behind her back as if expecting her to fall at any minute.
‘Perhaps we should all sit down,’ I said. ‘There are some makeshift seats over by the fireplace.’
‘They’ll do fine,’ Mr Cooper said, as we all trooped over to the sawn-off stumps. As soon as everyone was seated, Mrs Cooper leaned forward and her gaze fell on Snook and me. ‘Tell us how you two saw our son,’ she said, her voice breaking up as if she were going to cry. ‘Don’t leave anything out.’
‘Steady, Marge,’ her husband said, putting his arm around her shoulder. ‘Don’t go getting yourself all worked up. You’ll make yourself ill.’
Doctor Huntingdale interrupted. ‘No, no, Mrs Cooper. You’ve got it slightly wrong. I didn’t say that Jars and Snook had seen Aaron. I said that they’d seen … someone who looked like him. If it had been Aaron, then what they saw would have been some sort of spir … spir …’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. Instead he sat back and dabbed his forehead with a tissue that he’d quickly extracted from the top pocket of his jacket.
‘Fiddlesticks,’ Marge Cooper said, her voice high and bird-like now. ‘These youngsters have honest faces. If they did see our son, they’d tell us.’ Leaning over, she prodded Snook with her cane. ‘You wouldn’t lead us up the garden path, would you, sonny?’
I felt sorry for Snook. Mrs Cooper could be quite demanding when she wanted to. His eyes had taken on a wide, incredulous look and his lips had disappeared backwards into his mouth. Eventually recovering from being prodded by an old lady, Snook managed to stammer, ‘Th-that’s right, Mrs C-Cooper. I wouldn’t lead you up no garden p-path.’
‘There you are, Harry,’ she said. ‘What did I tell you?’ Waving her stick around in the air and looking at both Snook and me in turn, she said, ‘Can you tell us anything … anything at all?’ Shadow, who’d been quiet up until now, let out a whimper and edged close to Mrs Cooper, as though sensing her anguish.
Harry Cooper rolled his eyes. I suspected that he thought the whole exercise – coming out here and talking to us – was a complete waste of time.
Not knowing what else to do and feeling sorry for the Coopers, I took the initiative and told them everything I knew and could remember about our vision of the phantom kid – probable age, characteristics, and clothes. At least we were giving them something, even although it wasn’t the undeni-able, positive proof that they’d wanted – that their son had somehow come back from the dead. They listened to every word, especially Mrs Cooper, who was sitting on the edge of her seat, and when I’d finished she asked the one question that I didn’t want to hear … whether the kid was wearing a ring. I knew that if I told her that he was indeed wearing one, then she’d jump to the conclusion that we had seen her son – in the flesh so to speak – and not just a likeness of him. Not knowing that the doctor had already told the Coopers about the ring, I didn’t answer her.
‘I remember he had a ring,’ Snook said, spoiling my plan. I glared at him but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘It was one of those Phantom ones, the kind where if you bash someone on the jaw it leaves a mark. Kids send away for ’em. It’s no big deal.’
�
�Yes, thank you, Snook,’ Doctor Huntingdale said. He must have seen my glare. ‘I think you’ve made your point.’
‘A lot of kids?’ Mrs Cooper persisted. ‘How many would you say had those rings? Generally speaking. Most? Everyone? At your school, for example?’
‘Most of the boys, I’d say. It would have been like when one kid gets somethin’, then all the other kids’ll suddenly want it too.’
‘Oh, I see,’ she said, looking disappointed. ‘Then the ring on the boy that you saw would most likely have been quite common.’
‘Yep, no doubt about it.’
Mrs Cooper struggled to her feet. ‘We were hoping we’d … I’m sorry. I don’t really know what we were hoping for.’ She tugged at her husband’s sleeve. ‘Come, Harry, take me back to the car. We haven’t learned anything new.’
Harry pushed himself up from the tree stump. ‘Yes, it’s time I got you home.’ I watched as the two old folk, holding on to each other, walked slowly back to the car with Shadow trotting by Marge’s side.
Chapter 29
* * *
‘I told you,’ Harry Cooper said as he and his wife sat in the back of the Volvo on the way home. ‘You shouldn’t have got your hopes up. Those kids had already told Doctor Huntingdale everything they knew. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know what you’re after. I mean, Aaron’s not suddenly going to appear out of nowhere, is he?’
‘I know that, but if there was more information that explained how he disappeared or where he is now, then talking to those two youngsters would have been worthwhile. When I heard about them seeing someone who looked like Aaron, well, I wanted to hear it from them myself. I wanted to look into their eyes when they told me what they knew, and you know what …?’
