Sam set to work. The pieces of wood he chose were the perfect size. Most of them were from a crate they broke apart with mad hammering. He laid them out on the ground so they looked just like a bridge. He wanted to be sure he had enough slats so that the gaps between them weren’t too wide. They all walked across it to test it.
Danny and Vicki held the wood while Sam drilled. He was the only one allowed to use the drill. Their dad had showed him how and had even stuck a little ‘L’ for ‘Learner’ on the top.
Sam made two holes at the end of each slat through which rope could be threaded and tied.
Vicki didn’t understand rope bridge construction. ‘Why are we drilling holes?’ she asked.
‘So we can thread rope through them, like threading beads,’ Sam answered.
‘Why?’
‘Because the slats . . .’
‘Slats? What are they?’
‘The pieces of wood you will walk on when you cross the bridge.’
‘Oh, them.’
‘Yes, they have to be all linked together otherwise when we hang it between the two trees it will all fall apart.’
Vicki still didn’t really understand, but she didn’t think she should ask another question. Sam was sounding grumpy.
‘Oh right,’ she nodded unconvincingly.
Sam made four holes in each slat, two at each end. There was a lot of drilling, but despite the noise their parents didn’t come outside. Occasionally, Danny spied his mum at the kitchen window. Vicki waved every time she saw her.
Once the holes were drilled Vicki was put in charge of threading rope through them. She was good at threading beads, so she thought she would be good at threading rope. She had a lot of trouble with the splinters and pushing the fat rope through the holes though. The boys knew she was never going to finish it alone, but that didn’t matter. It kept her busy and out of their way while they finished constructing both tree houses.
Neither of the cubbies they built had walls. Both were basically just a platform in a tree. They didn’t really need walls. The leaves of the trees were thick enough curtains to hide them away. They hung hessian bags as a roof on the second house.
Vicki chose that one. She liked the roof. It was also the lower of the two and Sam convinced her that it was better not to be too high off the ground. He told her about falling and splitting her head open. Vicki had an image of her head exploding like a watermelon dropped from a great height – that’s how Sam had described the impact.
‘Oooh.’ She crinkled her nose in repulsion. ‘I could lose my brain.’
It was exciting to sit up in the cubbies. But by far the best part of the construction was the rope bridge. It was the middle of the afternoon when Sam finally finished the threading Vicki had started and secured the wooden slats with the knots he’d learnt in Scouts.
‘Now all we have to do,’ said Sam, scratching his head, ‘is to get it up into the tree.’
‘We can use the pulley to tug one end up, tie it on and then do the same with the other end, can’t we?’ said Danny.
Sam patted him on the back. ‘Yeah.’ He grinned. ‘I suppose we can.’
And that’s what they did.
Hanging the bridge was awkward. Vicki stayed on the ground shouting useless instructions. ‘Up a bit . . . no over a bit . . . too far . . . it’s hanging too low, pull it up!’
The rope bridge, swinging with each tug of the pulley rope, was a wonderful sight as it rose slowly into the treetops. At first, when Sam had only secured one end, it hung like a huge rope ladder.
Danny helped pull the second side into place and had to use all his strength to stop it from falling while Sam tied it to the tree.
At first it looked crooked and unsafe.
Vicki didn’t like it. ‘I’m not walking across that,’ she said.
‘It’s not finished yet!’ snapped Sam. ‘It’s not tied on properly and I have to get the tension right.’
‘Tension? What’s tension?’
Sam shook his head, mumbled something and turned away without answering. He began adjusting ropes and knots.
He spent a long time securing both sides. He checked and double-checked his knots. The ropes he added for holding on and keeping balance ran either side of the bridge at about hip height and looked a bit floppy, but overall it looked just as Danny had imagined it would.
Standing in the tree and looking across the bridge for the first time was exciting. Danny caught hold and made it sway a little.
The bridge wasn’t very long. There were only nine steps and each of them was evenly spaced. Sam had used his foot to measure the spaces.
When Sam finally tied the last rope to a branch using four fat knots in a bunch like a fist everyone was ready to walk across.
Vicki sat in her house and looked across at her brothers. She took hold of the rope bridge and swung it gently. She glanced down to the ground and felt dizzy. ‘Who’s going first?’ she called.
Billy was sitting beneath them looking up and tilting his head curiously.
Yap! Yap!
Vicki lay on her stomach and waved down to him. ‘Hey Billy boy,’ she sang.
Billy wagged his tail and then sat waiting.
So did Danny. ‘You should go first, Sam,’ he said. ‘You built it.’
Sam nodded. ‘Yeah, all right.’
He grasped the rope and tugged at it. ‘Feels good I reckon.’
He took his first tentative step. The bridge swayed.
‘Jeez! Careful!’ said Danny, grabbing at the bridge. ‘Try to keep it still.’
Sam bent his knees. ‘I am trying! Now will you shut up?’
Vicki watched with wide eyes. So did Danny and Billy.
Sam was concentrating. It was hard to keep the bridge steady. Everything swayed, no matter how hard Sam tried to keep it still.
He was on the fourth step when Billy barked and startled him. Sam jumped. The bridge swayed. Sam clung to the floppy side ropes, but they swung away from him. His arms were stretched wide apart. Despite his best attempts not to slip, using a lot of hip gyration and foot shuffling, he lost his balance. One leg was suddenly hanging below the bridge while the other was hooked around one of the steps. He was still clinging to the side rope. But only just.
‘Hang on, Sam!’ Vicki cried. ‘Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Your head will open up and you’ll lose your brain!’
‘Shut up!’
Danny took a step onto the bridge, which made it swing more. Sam yelled at him. ‘Get off! You’re making it worse.’
‘I was coming to help.’
‘Well don’t! I’m all right.’
Danny stepped back and looked on, feeling useless. It was like watching a movie, a really good movie that kept you on the edge of your seat.
Vicki and Danny were watching so intently and Sam was hanging so precariously that not one of them noticed Adolf slink into his car and drive away.
Sam scrambled and kicked. He pulled and grappled determinedly. And, like all good heroes in movies, he regained his balance and stood once more. He made the crossing. Once at Vicki’s house he lifted his hands triumphantly above his head.
Vicki clapped.
Danny gave a cheer. ‘I’ll give it a try now, shall I?’ he called.
Sam looked to the bridge. He took hold and shook it. ‘No, no, you’d better not. We need to stop it from wobbling so much first. You’ll fall off if we don’t.’
Danny glanced at the ground. ‘Okay,’ he said. He was disappointed, but didn’t want to split his head open. They all climbed down.
As soon as the children had gathered together beneath the two pepper trees to make plans to steady the bridge, their mother called to them. ‘Come inside, children, please. Hurry up.’
They hurried inside, Vicki skipping, Danny jogging and Sam walking, all expecting cake or biscuits or . . . but their mother didn’t look at them. She was looking out of the back window.
Danny thought she must be coming down with a cold. She was sn
iffing and had a handkerchief in her hand. Danny’s dad was nowhere to be seen. Before their mother could say anything the tractor roared to life and the boys leapt to their feet. ‘Hey wait up, Mum!’ they cried. ‘Dad’s going on the tractor. We want to go with him.’
‘Me too!’ said Vicki.
‘No!’ said their mother firmly.
‘But where’s he going?’ asked Sam.
‘He’s going to finish fixing that fence by the creek and wants to do it alone, so sit down.’
She still didn’t turn around, but the children sat.
‘But he might need us,’ said Danny.
His mum’s shoulders lifted as she drew in a big strong breath. Then she said with a sigh, ‘Yes, he does need you, but not at the creek. He needs you here to pack things away.’
‘To pack what away?’ asked Danny.
‘Everything we have,’ said Danny’s mum. She took a long, deep breath. ‘We’re leaving the farm, children.’ She breathed again. ‘We’re moving away from Mundowie.’
Silence.
Danny’s dad returned after dark as the children were eating their dinner.
He walked into the kitchen. All heads turned to look at him. He took his hat off (the one with the oil stain that looked like a tiny map of Africa) and placed it on a chair.
Danny didn’t like the silence.
‘Did you fix the fence, Dad?’ he asked.
‘Yep, all done.’
‘So the sheep won’t try to fly,’ said Vicki with concern. ‘They won’t squish?’
Danny’s dad had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Fly?’ he said, puzzled. ‘No, the sheep won’t fly.’
‘Good,’ Vicki said.
Danny threw glances back and forth between his mum and dad. He was about to say something, but Sam beat him to it.
Luckily, Sam said what Danny was thinking. ‘So what are we going to do?’
Danny’s dad sat at the table and looked at each of the children in turn. Danny saw a turtle-like tiredness in his eyes.
‘Well, we’re moving to the city,’ he announced. ‘I was a carpenter once, so I guess I can be a carpenter again.’
‘The city!’ cried Sam. ‘Wicked!’
Danny felt his stomach turn upside down. ‘Couldn’t we just live here and not have the farm, like Mark Thompson’s dad?’
‘No, I’m sorry, Danny, there’s no work for me here.’
Danny tilted his head curiously. ‘Why did you fix the fence, Dad, if we’re not staying?’
Danny’s dad took him by the shoulders and gently squeezed. ‘I don’t want anyone coming onto the farm and saying I didn’t look after the place.’
Danny straightened himself. ‘No one would say that, Dad,’ he said, taking offence at the thought. ‘You’re a good farmer. It’s not your fault the sky didn’t rain at the right time.’
Danny’s dad managed a smile. ‘Well, when you put it like that,’ he said, gently ruffling Danny’s hair, ‘I suppose not, Danny.’
Danny’s mum and dad embraced. Danny’s mum buried her face in his shoulder and dusty shirt.
Danny got up and went to his room; he never knew what to do when grown-ups cried.
In bed Danny and Sam lay awake.
‘I knew this was coming,’ said Sam quietly.
‘How did you know?’ asked Danny.
‘Come off it, Danny. Don’t you notice anything?’
‘Like what?’
‘The bank meetings, the papers all over the table, Dad’s extra job fixing the playground. He always said he needed a sheep dog, but he didn’t get one when Tippy died; he got a dog he knew would be okay in a city house.’
Danny suddenly had a rude awakening. Sam was right. Danny thought back. When they were painting the playground his dad had said something about trying to hang on. And when Billy came he had said something about not needing a sheep dog. There were other things as well, but Danny hadn’t noticed because he’d been too busy with the adventures of each day. There didn’t seem to be any need to think about tomorrow. It was always too far away.
Sam rolled over. ‘Anyway, the city will be brilliant, there’s heaps to do.’
‘There’s heaps to do here,’ said Danny.
‘Yeah, but not like the city.’
Danny put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.
‘No,’ he mumbled.
As tired as he was, Danny couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned. When Sam started snoring he crawled out of bed and went diving into the darkness under his bed in search of his moneybox. When he found it he waddled off toward the kitchen. Billy jumped from the end of the bed and wandered with him, hoping for food.
Bright moonlight streamed through the kitchen window. Danny peered out. The world was silver. The brilliant moon, not quite full, sat like a huge pearl on a bed of black velvet surrounded by millions of tiny diamonds. Danny felt as though he was gazing through the window of a dream. The dark didn’t matter.
Danny sat at the table. The clock was ticking and the fridge humming. He opened the little cap at the bottom of his moneybox. Billy looked on, licking his lips. Danny emptied all the money out onto the tablecloth and counted – it was seventeen dollars and fifty-five cents. Danny piled all the notes and coins neatly and left the money next to the folder that said BANK on the spine.
He gazed dreamily out of the kitchen window down to the shed. The rope bridge reached out to him from the deepest darkness beneath the shelter of the pepper trees and into the moonlight. He had to climb it, just once. He had no idea when they were actually leaving, but if they left the next day he would never get the chance to do it.
Danny Allen walked out into the night with Billy by his side. The yard was wonderful in moonlight. Everything was so still and so peaceful. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Danny walked down toward the shed, conscious of the sound of his own footsteps. Unfamiliar in the shadows, the old tractor was like a sleeping monster. Danny climbed the tree, slowly but surely. His boots flipped and flopped without socks. Beneath the tree the ground was decorated with puzzle-like pieces of moonlight shadow. Billy walked through them, sniffing, wondering where the chickens were.
Danny climbed to sit on the cubby house. Under the leaves it was very dark. He stood to grasp the rope bridge.
He held the side ropes. They were still loose. The bridge never looked very high, but once he was standing on it the ground seemed miles away.
Danny didn’t think about falling, or his head splitting apart like a dropped watermelon. He took a deep breath and stood tall, then took his first step alone, out into darkness. Ahead, only two steps away, was the brilliance of the moonlight.
Like a moth, Danny headed for the light. The bridge swayed with each cautious step.
Before Danny knew it, he was halfway across. He smiled to himself. This wasn’t hard. He wasn’t going to get hurt. He wouldn’t fall now. His head wouldn’t crack apart and spill his brains on the dust by the tractor shed. There was nothing to be afraid of, or worried about.
Danny stopped in the full glow of the moonlight. He stood in the middle of the rope bridge. He looked across the roof of the house to the Mundowie Institute Hall. The moonlight made the white marble soldier statue glow like the ghost gums down at the creek.
Danny sniffed the air like Billy. He looked in all directions at everything he could see. The moonlight on the roof and the white chimney; the silhouette of the rooftops across the road; Mark Thompson’s rooftop.
Even the white gravel road that cut through the town was glowing. It didn’t look hard and full of stones. It looked like a fluffy blanket. Danny didn’t want to get off the bridge. He lay down on his back as if it were a hammock. He kept a firm grip on the ropes and stared up at the stars.
This was a magical world.
This was Danny Allen’s place.
7
Leaving
The day Danny Allen left Mundowie his house was a whirlwind of activity. Mark Thompson’s dad had of
fered his truck to help with the move. He was carting furniture out the front door with Danny’s dad.
‘Watch your step, don’t fall backwards.’
‘Hang on, my fingers are trapped. A little to the left, hold it! Hold it!’
In the yard Billy was playing his scatter-the-chickens game.
Yap! Yap!
Pertakeerk, cluck, cluck, cluck.
Danny’s mum was directing everyone. Clumps and strands of her hastily clipped hair were hanging untidily. She stood in the kitchen doorway pointing and barking orders.
‘Danny, pick up that last box in the bedroom and help Sam take it out to the truck. Vicki, stop dancing and help, please.’
‘In a minute,’ Vicki replied as she readied herself for a twirl across the open kitchen floor. She loved the empty house. The bare floorboards and empty rooms provided her with stage after stage upon which to spin and spring about.
Danny didn’t like the emptiness. ‘Stop fooling around,’ he grumbled, deliberately walking into Vicki’s twirling path. ‘You have to help.’
Vicki stopped and frowned at him. ‘Get out of the way. I will in a minute.’
Before Danny could argue, Sam called to him from the passageway. ‘Danny, hurry up!’
Vicki put her hands to her hips, tapped her foot impatiently, waited for Danny to get out of her way, and then went on twirling.
At the front of the house the old Thompson truck was loaded with cupboards, beds, the fridge, boxes and suitcases. At the very top of the furniture mountain sat the old kennel that Billy had inherited from Tippy.
Not everything would fit on the truck. Some of the furniture had been stored in the Wallaces’ shed. Aunty Jean thought it was a good idea. ‘It means you’ll have to come back to visit,’ she said with a laugh.
When the house was completely empty Danny didn’t like wandering through it. The echo was weird and Vicki’s non-stop dancing annoyed him.
Once the chickens had been rounded up and caged, the deserted yard was eerily quiet. And looking down toward the tractor shed to see the rope bridge hanging alone made Danny’s stomach churn.
Danny’s mum said, ‘I hope we’ve got everything. I’d hate to leave anything behind.’
Danny Allen Was Here Page 12
