‘Sacré bleu,’ a French sentry called out as he spied movement beyond the trench. ‘There are two men and a dog alive out there!’
A row of soldiers, including Louie, peered carefully over the trench parapet. A hundred yards away the distinctive pale blue uniform of a French infantryman crawled through the mud, dragging a wounded man. On the opposite side of the prone body the hairy rear end of a large dog was just visible, his hindquarters digging into the wrecked earth of the battlefield as he helped drag the soldier to safety.
‘It’s Roland the dog and one of the Chessy boys,’ Louie called out, breaking the silence and rousing the French soldiers to action. They cocked their rifles and scanned the area for any sign of the enemy as three men clambered out of the trench and, bent double, moved as quickly as they could through the thick mud to render assistance.
Roland was stomach-deep in the water-logged area but still he kept tugging.
‘Let go, Roland,’ Antoine insisted with a slap to the dog’s muzzle. ‘There are others here to help.’ Prising Roland free, they hurried to safety as the soldiers gathered up the wounded man.
‘I wouldn’t have believed it if I’d not seen it with my own eyes.’ Louie offered water to Antoine. ‘That dog was helping you drag him in.’ He pointed to the rescued soldier who lay waiting for stretcher-bearers.
Antoine gave Roland a slurp of water from the offered bottle and lay back against the wall of the trench. ‘Good boy, Roland, good boy.’
The dog licked his face and lay down by his side.
‘There you are!’ Francois waded through the muddy trench, patted Roland and grinned at his brother in relief. ‘I was wondering when you would show.’ He squatted by their side. ‘It was a tough one last night.’
Antoine could barely nod.
‘Is he okay?’ Francois asked, running his hands across Roland’s body. ‘I left him with one of the wounded.’
‘He’s exhausted. He helped me bring in one of our men.’
‘Really?’ Francois raised an eyebrow.
‘It’s true,’ Louie interrupted. ‘This dog helped rescue one of our men. I saw him.’
‘Then he was well named,’ Francois decided. He patted Roland thoughtfully. ‘Tonight we move back to the reserve trenches.’ He began to roll a cigarette. ‘I think we have to get Roland away from here. Maybe send him back to field command until we’re on leave again and can give him to a villager or a farmer for safekeeping.’
Louie scratched at his hairline as the dog gave the brothers what appeared to be a flinty stare. ‘Hmm, I don’t like your chances.’
Banyan, south-west Queensland, Australia
September 1916
‘Reform school! You can’t send Luther to reform school!’ Lily Harrow cried.
Dave picked another sliver of bark from the tree with his pocketknife. Behind him his father crunched gravel as he paced out five feet, turned abruptly on his heels and stalked back in the opposite direction. It was the tenth time the screech of gravel met with his father’s horsehair boots, and Dave was becoming increasingly nervous. He turned from the tree outside the Banyan Courthouse to gaze blindly up the main street of Banyan as he thought of Luther locked up in the cell within the courthouse. His brother had been pronounced guilty for attacking and maiming Snob Evans and was now a juvenile offender.
Dave listened to Thaddeus’s stomach rumble as a dray clattered down the dirt road. On the courthouse steps above, groups of people – townsfolk, neighbours, friends and gossipers – waited. A line of boys, all of whom Dave knew, were leaning over the railing sniggering. It seemed that every kid in the district had been dragged into town to witness Luther’s humiliation. His brother was being made an example of.
‘The whole district’s laughing at us,’ Thaddeus muttered. A smudge of blue-green still tinged his nose and eyes. ‘Look at them standing up there, waiting for the show to re-start. We may as well pitch a tent and hang up a shingle and make a bit of money out of this debacle.’ He sat on a bench in the shadow of the courthouse and resumed his blank stare of the street. Dave joined him. They both knew he searched for Harold.
‘Lily,’ G.W. plucked at his shirt collar, ‘right now Meredith Bantam is probably staring out the window of the Banyan Boarding House thanking God that her reputation has not been sullied by association with the Harrows. Can you not see how Luther’s actions have tainted the future of this entire family? My God, this country is at war and my own son is disfiguring young men!’
‘You’ve heard Luther’s side,’ Lily entreated. ‘Why punish him further after what he’s been through? His judgement may have been clouded, but he was only trying to protect a young lady’s reputation and his brothers’ characters. And you, G.W., would punish him forever for this small matter –’
‘Small?’ G.W. yelled. ‘You think it small? When a boy has been maimed and the Harrow name stained beyond repair?’
Dave picked at the splintering wood on the bench and saw his family cracking. Things may not have been so bad were it not for Meredith Bantam. Having been delayed by rain, the young woman had arrived in Banyan the day Luther’s trial commenced. Her chaperone, a wily aunt of advanced age, had been quickly illuminated by the townsfolk as to Luther Harrow’s shenanigans and immediately booked return passage to Brisbane on the next Cobb & Co. coach. They were due to depart today, having ignored all attempts at communication by the Harrows. ‘What do you think will happen?’
‘Unless Mr Riggs can do something . . .’ Thaddeus’s words tailed off, leaving Dave with visions of Luther being carted away, never to be seen again. ‘Father thinks Luther should be made an example of for the sake of the family’s reputation.’
Dave wasn’t sure they had much of that left. Luther’s attack on Snob Evans had made the front page of the Banyan Chronicle every day for the past week and had warranted a whole column on page two of the Brisbane Courier, and the Sydney Morning Herald also ran the story. The newspapers had branded Luther a delinquent and the letters to the editor confirmed that this opinion went beyond the printed word. The Harrows’ lawyer, Mr Riggs, tried to console the family by explaining that murder and mayhem always led the news. His words didn’t help. The war abroad was worse than ever. Brothers, sons and husbands were dying in the hundreds. People were aghast at Luther’s behaviour. ‘You know,’ Thaddeus said quietly to Dave, ‘Father’s like an old ram in a drafting race. Animals like that, they won’t go forwards or back. You can prod them and push them as much as you like but stubborn refusal is all that you’ll get.’
The lawyer arrived in a sweep of black cloth with a clutch of papers under one arm. He wore a cropped beard and tufted whiskers that extended an inch beyond his cheeks. Mr Riggs was Luther’s last chance.
‘I never thought it would be this bad,’ Thaddeus continued, as the lawyer spoke quietly to their father. ‘Mother said that trade people don’t take landed people to court.’
Dave would never forget the words spoken within the courthouse over the past few days. Snob Evans’s lawyer had accused Luther of affray and assault and malicious wounding and intent to maim. In reply, Mr Riggs argued that Snob Evans’s continued bullying of Luther and his penchant for street fights had come to a head when he had verbally abused fourteen-year-old Corally Shaw. Luther had simply tried to safeguard a young woman’s honour, albeit rather enthusiastically.
When Corally took to the stand, swore to tell the truth and confirmed that Snob Evans had indeed called her a rabbit-sniffer, Dave felt the mood of the courthouse change. It didn’t last. Ignoring the judge’s gavel, G.W. criticised Snob’s father, Raymond Evans, reminding the courthouse of the length of time the Harrow family had resided in the district, claiming family reputation and good standing versus a narrow-minded, upstart tradesman.
Dave rubbed his shoes in the dirt until a small mound appeared. He was worried about Luther, and about what would happen if and when they a
ll returned home. During the hearing, Snob’s lawyer had tarnished all the Harrow boys with accusations of delinquency and thuggery. Even Thaddeus’s fight with Harold was dredged up. Fortunately the Lawrences elected not to get involved. Cook told Dave that the Lawrences were smart people who weren’t going to be damned by association.
‘Mr Harrow,’ the lawyer began, ‘all this can be ended quickly and painlessly. In a few minutes the court will be back in session. You need only say the word and Luther will be released into your care. The judge, as you know, doesn’t feel the need to make an example of Luther.’ He raised a fluffy white eyebrow. ‘Not during these arduous times.’
‘He has disgraced the Harrow name,’ G.W. replied, his lips trembling.
Lily Harrow squeezed her husband’s arm. ‘My dear, please, this is our decision. There is only one to make.’
The lawyer cleared his throat. ‘An uncontrollable youth may be brought before a court, which can then duly release the youth on probation, commit him to an institution until the age of eighteen, or to the care of a willing person.’ The last two words were said slowly and deliberately. ‘When court resumes, the judge will expect you to be that willing person, Mr Harrow. Quite frankly I’m surprised he agreed to a recess when you said that you needed time to consider the alternatives.’
‘You see, a willing person, G.W.,’ Lily said softly. ‘That’s us.’
‘If Luther is sent to an institution,’ Mr Riggs stated, with an impatient tug of his neck-tie, ‘he may be apprenticed in accordance with the Apprentices Act of 1901.’
‘This is ridiculous,’ Lily declared, turning to her husband. ‘You were the one who gave Luther that tomahawk,’ she firmed her jaw, ‘so you must accept some of the responsibility.’
Her husband looked as if she had struck him.
‘We will be taking Luther home, Mr Riggs,’ Lily stated, nodding to her sons. G.W. gave a weak nod of assent, and together they walked up the stairs to the courthouse, the waiting crowds stepping aside to let them pass.
‘Splattered across the city papers, we are,’ the blacksmith complained loudly to their backs. ‘They’re saying we’re heathens and that we don’t know how to bring up our children.’
Dave followed up the rear of their sorry procession, the hem of Thaddeus’s trousers guiding him down the centre aisle. Congestion halted their progress, and in the split second that Dave lifted his head he noticed Reginald Cummins. Dave knew that his father would be mortified at the man’s presence, and Dave was weighed down by the enormity of the occasion.
At the front of the courtroom, G.W. and Lily moved towards a hard wooden bench, leaving such a gap between their bodies that there was only room for Thaddeus and a pile of legal books. Dave, forced to slink into the row behind them, leaned back against the unforgiving bench. Through Thaddeus’s and his father’s shoulders he caught sight of Luther. His brother sat at a small table, Mr Riggs by his side. The lawyer patted his brother kindly on the shoulder and for a brief moment Luther looked blankly in Dave’s direction.
‘He’ll go home, won’t he?’ Corally was at Dave’s shoulder, her breath smelling of lemon drops. She wore a dark-coloured blouse and skirt, both of which were ill fitting. Dave turned round on the hard bench. Julie Jackson sat beside her in the third row. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked Corally.
‘I snuck in. My pa reckons the town had their circus last week and that the baker’s boy deserved what he got. He don’t need to see a civilised people’s idea of justice.’
‘I only came to keep Corally company,’ Julie said tightly. She sat stiffly, as if she had a broom for a spine. It was obvious that she didn’t want to be there.
Dave couldn’t believe that Corally Shaw needed support. She was the kind of girl who showed no fear, and although the two girls were always together, he often felt that the friendship was one-sided. Dave rolled his shoulders back, just a little. He hadn’t expected Corally to return to the courtroom. ‘Were you nervous sitting up there? I mean, putting your hand on the bible and everything?’
Corally leaned forward. She was so close Dave could feel the warmth of her skin. ‘No. I told the truth. And besides, no one’s ever done something like that for me before. He stuck up for me, Luther did, although I didn’t mean for him to chop anyone’s finger off. Anyway, all these people here, well they’re not so good. See Mr Evans sitting over there? Well, he makes smaller-sized loaves of bread and charges the same coin for them as the proper-sized ones. And see his wife?’
Dave spotted Mrs Evans. The woman now wore black, as if she were in mourning.
‘Well,’ Corally continued, ‘she sleeps with the farrier.’
Dave’s ears pinked up as Corally giggled and smoothed her skirt.
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because my pa works at the lumberyard now. My mother says it’s just as well that we’re not real townies, otherwise people would be saying bad things about us too. Not that some of them haven’t tarred us with the same brush already.’
‘Why would they do that?’
Corally rolled her lips together and sighed. ‘’Cause my pa was a trapper and we live near the cemetery and my best friend,’ she lowered her voice to a whisper, ‘has a grandma who’s a German.’
Dave could see how all those things could amount to a fair bit of gossip. However, he didn’t understand how the Jacksons could be called spies just because they were German, and Thaddeus agreed. His older brother thought people were just trying to stir up trouble.
‘Your father wouldn’t really send Luther away, would he?’ Julie asked.
‘You never know what your relatives are capable of,’ Corally replied sagely. ‘That’s what my pa says.’
Dave looked at the slight bulge of skin rolling over his father’s collar.
Corally rested her arm across the back of Dave’s bench. ‘Are Thaddeus and Harold still friends?’
‘Dunno. They’re not talking.’ There had been no sign of Harold or any of the Lawrences since the Banyan Show.
Corally rolled her eyes. ‘No speakies, hey? That’s boys for you.’
Dave couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Yeah, and you probably shouldn’t be talking to me either – people don’t like us a whole lot at the moment.’
Corally gave his forearm a playful pinch and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Oh, I don’t give a squat what people think, Dave. Why should I?’
He heard Julie give an impatient sigh.
The judge entered the courtroom. Benches and chairs squeaked as all present stood, then there was a moment of rustling as everyone resettled. A baby whined at the rear of the room. Corally shuffled back in her seat and Dave sat squarely facing the front.
‘Mr Harrow,’ the judge said flatly, ‘where juveniles are concerned I am prepared to give some leeway.’ He fiddled with a sheaf of papers. ‘You do understand that should you not wish to take your son home today, I will have no alternative but to recommend reform school.’
G.W. stood, slack-shouldered. ‘Yes, I do.’
The judge beckoned Luther to stand. Corally’s fingers dug into Dave’s shoulder.
‘I feel sure,’ the judge continued, ‘that what you have endured this past week, young man,’ he looked from Luther to G.W., ‘is far and away lesson enough. And you, Mr Evans –’ the crowded room swivelled to where the Evans family sat on the opposite front bench, ‘should consider your own son’s character.’
‘But he’s the one what was damaged!’ Mr Evans called. ‘How’s my boy ever gonna serve his country now he’s maimed?’
The crowd were audible in their agreement.
‘Silence!’ the judge boomed. He formed a pyramid with his fingers as his order was obeyed. ‘This story has become front-page news around our fair country, and it stops now. Mr Evans, you will pay your share of court costs.’ He waited until Evans’s shouts of protest were silenced and then
interlaced his fingers. ‘Now, Mr Harrow, Mr Riggs has informed me of your decision. You are going to take Luther home. There he will remain,’ he glanced at his papers, ‘on Sunset Ridge on probation for six months. As well, you will pay compensation to Mr Evans of an amount to be stipulated that is commensurate with the loss of his son’s . . .’ the judge read through his papers, ‘right index finger above the knuckle.’ The judge closed proceedings with a rap of his gavel.
The courtroom erupted. Dave punched the air excitedly as Mr Riggs congratulated Luther.
‘When will I see you again?’ Corally’s slight hand pressed Dave’s arm.
‘What? Oh, I don’t know,’ Dave replied, shaking her off. ‘I don’t think we’ll be going out much.’ He moved along the bench, intent on reaching Luther as quickly as possible.
‘I could come and see you,’ Corally suggested, as Julie gestured for them to leave.
People were milling around them and Dave itched to shake his brother’s hand. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘You? Come all the way out to Sunset Ridge? Why would you want to do that?’
Corally’s eyes grew immeasurably dark. ‘Maybe I don’t. Forget it.’
Dave overheard Julie Jackson say something to Corally about wasting her time, in response to which Corally told Julie to mind her own beeswax. Dave pushed his way through the crowd. On reaching Luther, they exchanged grins and punched each other lightly on the arm.
‘What did Corally say?’ Luther whispered.
‘She wanted to come and visit us. Bit strange, don’t you think, her wanting to come all the way out to Sunset Ridge?’
Sunset Ridge Page 13
