Oliver and Rose helped her flop back against the side of the ute.
‘You two go with Moo,’ said Nancy. ‘When you get to the house, radio for help. I’ll wait here.’
‘No,’ said Rose. ‘I’m not leaving you.’
Oliver could tell from her face what she was really saying.
I’m not risking losing you as well.
‘I’ll go,’ said Oliver. ‘Moo will show me the way. I can come back with my parents in their car.’
Rose snorted.
‘You on your own with a camel?’ she said. ‘You’d get about half a k.’
‘Anyway,’ said Nancy, ‘what if your parents aren’t there?’
‘Yeah,’ said Rose. ‘What if they’ve nicked off to Switzerland? That’s the sort of low, selfish thing they’d do, right?’
‘No need for details, Rose,’ said Nancy.
Oliver turned and ran along the riverbed, Barclay at his heels.
Behind him he heard Rose say, ‘No need for tantrums either.’
Oliver wasn’t having a tantrum. He just didn’t want to think about Switzerland. He’d rather think about a best thing, which was Nancy getting some transport.
Yes, there it was, just as he’d hoped.
In the riverbed, near the torn-off top half of the camel float, was the bottom half. And it looked all in one piece. The wheels were still on it, and the axles between them seemed fine. Even the carpet was in place.
There was jagged metal around the edge, though, which would have to be dealt with so Nancy didn’t get stabbed. And they’d have to find some way of attaching a tow-rope.
Oliver wished he was better with tools.
Rose was very good with tools.
With a pair of pliers she made the jagged metal less jagged, and twisted some of it into a loop they could tie a rope to. Soon Nancy was lying on her new transport, cushioned by the carpet and all three swags.
Oliver and Rose gathered up the other things they were taking with them.
Which weren’t many. Nancy was very strict about keeping the weight down. Just a couple of suitcases and some hats and sunblock and some cough lollies from the glovebox, which was the only food they had. Plus the only unbroken water container, which was a human-sized one with about four litres of water in it.
Oliver added his school bag to the load. Nobody seemed to mind. They must have known it was Barclay’s favourite thing.
Then it was time to set off.
As Rose looped the tow-rope around Moo’s shoulders, and tucked towels under it so it wouldn’t rub her skin, Oliver had a moment of anxiety.
Even without a top and without much luggage, half a float was a heavy thing for one camel to tow. Specially a camel who was recovering from an operation and a car crash.
Oliver threw himself behind the float and gave it a push to help Moo get started. He pushed with all his strength.
The float didn’t move.
Then Moo started plodding forward, the rope tightened, and they were off.
23
The horizon danced away from them in the heat.
Oliver soon gave up pushing the float. He wasn’t making any difference and he wanted to save his strength in case Moo collapsed from exhaustion and he and Rose had to put the rope round themselves and haul Moo and Nancy home.
So far Moo was plodding at a steady pace, moving across the desert like an elegant ship, but with a big friendly mouth at the front instead of old tyres.
Oliver hoped she knew where she was going.
The desert seemed to go on forever.
Millions of dry bushes.
Billions of sharp little rocks.
Trillions of scurrying ants.
Barclay raced around sniffing at the ants for a while, but got too hot and jumped up with Nancy.
Lucky thing, thought Oliver.
The heat was terrible.
Everything was shimmering, including the inside of Oliver’s head.
He was tempted to ask if they could take a break, but he didn’t. Rose was plodding along leading Moo without any complaining. Anyway, what was the point. There wasn’t any shade.
‘Are we there yet?’ said Nancy after an hour or two. Or three. With his phone battery dead, Oliver had lost all track of time.
He glanced at Nancy, worried that perhaps she was going delirious in the heat. They were clearly not there. The farm wasn’t even in sight. It might be in a different state, for all Oliver knew.
Rose held up the water container for Nancy to see. It only had a small amount of water left in it.
Oliver realised what Nancy had meant. All morning she’d been making sure everybody had a regular mouthful of water. Though Oliver had noticed her own swigs were tiny.
She’d been asking if they’d run out yet.
Which they almost had. There was just enough for one more mouthful each, including Barclay.
‘What about Moo,’ said Oliver after he’d had his.
‘She’s fine,’ said Nancy. ‘She filled up back at the roadhouse.’
Oliver struggled with his heat-affected memory. Had they passed a roadhouse today that he’d missed? He didn’t think so. Not unless it had been behind an ants’ nest.
He realised what Nancy meant.
The roadhouse yesterday lunchtime.
‘She’ll be fine for a couple more days,’ said Nancy.
‘She did have seventy litres,’ said Rose. ‘And a lemonade.’
Oliver plodded along beside Moo, impressed. He looked at the way her slender legs and powerful body kept the float wheels turning over the bumpy ground. It didn’t look like any effort at all, but Oliver was pretty sure it must be.
After a while he noticed a part of her back that was like a sort of ledge, just behind her hump. He imagined perching up there and having a snooze, just a quick one …
‘Thinking of having a ride?’ said Rose.
Oliver gave her an embarrassed look and waited for a hurtful remark.
All she said was, ‘You can if you want. But only tourists ride. In this family when we trek camels, we walk with them.’
Oliver thought about this.
‘Want a leg up?’ said Rose.
‘No thanks,’ said Oliver. ‘I’m fine.’
And he was.
Doing it the way it was done.
In this family.
24
And then it was just plodding.
Very hot plodding.
Oliver stopped peering ahead. He didn’t want to see that the farm still wasn’t in sight.
As he plodded he kept his eyes down, focussed on Moo’s feet as they padded across the desert, keeping the float wheels moving steadily, never speeding up, never slowing down, a rhythmic plod he was grateful to have guiding him on.
Oliver started thinking about plodding.
Plodding had a bad name. In maths at school Mr Langrish was always accusing him of plodding, like it was a crime or an illness.
People who plodded were reckoned to be a bit thick, or boring, or not very original, or a joke.
Well that’s wrong, thought Oliver.
Plodding is slow and steady.
Plodding is reliable and honest.
Plodding gets you across deserts.
You don’t see plodders being flashy smartypants.
Plodders don’t think they can have everything.
If you find yourself investing your life savings in something called a collateralised debt obligation, which turns out to be four trillion dollars worth of junk, you can be pretty sure it wasn’t invented by a plodder.
I think plodding’s good, thought Oliver.
There should be more of it.
If I survive this, from now on I’m going to be a plodder.
And proud of it.
And then even plodding got too difficult.
The water had been gone for hours, Nancy and Barclay were asleep on the float, Rose was stumbling like a zombie and Oliver knew he had about six more plods in him before he fell f
ace down onto the desert and that was it.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
‘Oliver,’ croaked Nancy.
Oliver was so startled he almost fell over on four. It was ages since any of them had spoken.
He squinted at Nancy.
With a weary movement of her arm, she gestured to him to walk closer to the float.
Which, stumbling, he did.
‘Oliver,’ she whispered. ‘There’s something I have to say to you. About what I did with Barclay… what I threatened to do …’
She was having trouble getting the words out. Her lips were cracked and dusty.
‘I’m sorry I did that,’ she wheezed. ‘Very sorry.’
She reached out and held his hand.
Oliver wanted to tell her it didn’t matter now, they didn’t have to talk about it now, it was better for her to save her energy.
He tried to tell her, but his mouth was too dry.
And then he realised why she was struggling to say all this now. It was in case there wasn’t a chance later. In case they didn’t make it.
‘Don’t,’ he croaked. ‘You don’t have to …’
He tried to find the words to help her feel better, to let her know he understood, to tell her there would be a chance later. But he couldn’t.
Suddenly Moo roared.
It was such a loud noise that Oliver almost stumbled again.
Rose was immediately alert. Nancy struggled to sit up. Barclay barked.
And then, from far away, Oliver heard a faint roaring in reply.
‘Mum,’ croaked Rose. ‘Look.’
They stopped. Oliver looked. They were at the top of a slight ridge and there, below them in the distance, was a wooden house with a wide verandah and several smaller buildings around it.
Near the house was a fenced paddock.
In the paddock were camels, tiny, roaring.
Moo roared back.
‘They’re OK,’ whispered Rose. ‘Mum, they’re still alive.’
Nancy didn’t reply, and Oliver saw it was because she was having too many emotions.
He peered back down at the farm to make sure the camels were all on their feet, that none of them were slumped against the others or had fallen over.
Then Oliver saw something that gave him a lot of emotions too.
Parked near the house was Mum and Dad’s car.
Next to it was a police car.
25
Moo led them down the slope at a trot.
Oliver hung onto the rope with Rose and tried to slow Moo down. Partly so the float didn’t tip over and injure Nancy more, partly so he could try to work out why the police were at the farm.
To arrest Mum and Dad for bank crimes?
To arrest Nancy for kidnapping?
To arrest him for conspiracy to burgle and spying and demanding money by text?
As the float got closer to the farm, Oliver squinted desperately, trying to see Mum and Dad. They weren’t in the open area between the house and the paddock.
Perhaps they were inside the house, or having a snooze in the car.
Oliver hoped so.
He hoped they weren’t in the back of the police car with handcuffs on.
‘Is that your parents’ car?’ said Rose.
Oliver nodded.
Rose’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t say anything. Oliver could tell from her scowl she was probably hoping Mum and Dad were not only in handcuffs, but chains as well.
Then he saw what she was actually scowling at.
Two police officers were running up the hill towards the float.
Nancy was half-sitting up and watching them anxiously. Oliver could see she was as worried as he was.
‘Oliver,’ she croaked. ‘If they arrest me for anything, threatening an animal with a knife or neglecting camels or anything, Rose wasn’t involved, OK? Will you tell them that?’
Rose glared at Oliver.
‘You stay out of it,’ she hissed at him. ‘I’m telling them the whole thing was my fault.’
While Nancy and Rose argued in whispers, Oliver tried to stop the float, to turn it round so Nancy and Rose could get away. But it was hopeless, the float was too heavy and it was moving too fast behind Moo and …
One of the police officers grabbed Moo’s rope and slowed her down.
The other one grabbed the float and slowed it down too.
‘Jeez,’ said the female officer. ‘Good to see you lot. We were just about to get a search party out for you.’
‘You look like you could do with a drink, said the male officer. He held out a police water bottle. ‘Sorry, you’ll have to make do with this, the beer’s run out.’
Nancy flopped back onto the swags. For a moment Oliver thought she’d fainted, but then he saw it was just relief.
Everyone had a drink.
Even Moo.
Oliver felt the water cooling him and making his thoughts clearer.
There were a million questions he wanted to ask, but only one of them was really important.
Where were Mum and Dad?
He didn’t dare ask in case Mum and Dad hadn’t been caught yet. In case they were hiding, and still free.
Now Oliver was closer to the farm he could see they weren’t in either of the cars. And they hadn’t come out of the house.
Where were they?
Oliver didn’t see them until he and the others had almost reached the farm. Nancy grabbed his arm and silently pointed to a small hill a distance away on the other side of the house.
Oliver squinted.
And saw two figures standing on the hillside with their backs to him. It was definitely Mum and Dad, he recognised Mum’s gold scarf.
He hoped the police officers hadn’t seen them, but they had.
‘They’re the ones who called us,’ said the male officer. ‘They were worried about where you all were.’
Oliver felt weak with relief. No arresting seemed to be taking place. But why were Mum and Dad standing up there on the hillside?
They haven’t even seen us, thought Oliver.
Mum and Dad were standing really still, with their heads bowed.
Strange, thought Oliver. That’s not like Mum and Dad.
Mum and Dad were the sort of people who never stopped moving. It was like they had too much energy and nowhere to put it.
Oliver wondered what was going on.
He wanted to run over to them and let them know he was here. But there was something about the way they were standing.
It was like a private moment.
Oliver glanced at Rose. She was just looking at them too. Not yelling at them or throwing things, just looking at them.
So was Nancy.
On Nancy’s face was almost as much emotion as when she’d seen the camels were alive.
‘It’s Tim’s grave,’ she said.
26
When Mum and Dad finally did notice everyone, they ran down from the grave so fast Oliver was worried they’d hurt themselves.
All they wanted to do for ages was hug Oliver.
He let them.
‘Oh love,’ said Mum when she finally let go of Oliver long enough to speak. ‘We found your note and we thought you’d gone to Vickey’s. She wasn’t answering her phone so we asked Hayden to go and check you were there. He said you were.’
Oliver thought about this.
‘I don’t think Hayden likes you much any more,’ he said.
Mum and Dad both looked uncomfortable.
‘What about the text I sent?’ said Oliver. ‘Why didn’t you answer?’
‘We didn’t get it,’ said Mum. ‘Not till after the email. We were in a hotel hiding from the media and we had our phones turned off. Reporters wouldn’t stop ringing us and Dad thought it was best.’
Dad looked even more uncomfortable. And Oliver could see it wasn’t just because he was wearing a business shirt.
‘That was a bad decision,’ said Dad
. ‘I’m not proud of that.’
Oliver was stunned. He’d never heard Dad say anything like that before.
‘Thank goodness you let us know you were coming here,’ said Mum.
She hugged Oliver again.
Oliver glanced over at the paddock. Nancy was leaning against the fence watching Moo have a joyful reunion with the other camels. The police officers were helping Rose give the camels the last of the feed from the shed and the last of the water from the storage tank.
‘Let’s go onto the verandah,’ said Oliver.
He led Mum and Dad over to the verandah, where they were further away from the police officers.
‘I thought you could hide here at the farm,’ said Oliver to Mum and Dad. ‘I thought we could change our names and the police would never find us. So you wouldn’t have to go to jail. But the police haven’t even recognised you.’
Mum and Dad looked at him.
‘Ollie,’ said Dad, ‘we’re not going to jail. We’re not even going to be arrested. Those news stories were just threats, to try to scare us into handing over our assets.’
‘We didn’t come here to hide,’ said Mum. ‘We came because we love you.’
Oliver’s heart felt like a doggy tail that was thumping delightedly against his ribs.
Hang on, a doggy tail was thumping against his ribs.
Oliver turned. Barclay was on the verandah rail behind him, wagging excitedly and showing Oliver how delighted he was that everyone was here.
‘This is Barclay,’ said Oliver to Mum and Dad. ‘He’s my dog. Mine and Rose’s.’
Mum and Dad took it well.
Which, Oliver thought, is the big advantage of losing all your priceless oriental rugs. It frees you up to like dogs.
Oliver pointed towards the paddock.
‘That’s Nancy and Rose,’ he said.
Mum and Dad looked and nodded slowly.
Oliver could see they were both very nervous about saying hello to Nancy and Rose.
But they did, and after a few awkward moments, everyone relaxed a bit. Though Oliver saw Rose doing a fair bit of muttering.
The police officers explained they couldn’t stay for dinner because they had a ninety k drive back to the station, plus they had their own sandwiches.
After they’d gone, Oliver helped Rose set out dinner on the verandah table. Mum and Dad had brought smoked salmon and an artichoke salad.
Too Small to Fail Page 11
