by Jill Harris
Would he be able to get inside the old shed? He didn’t think it was a good idea to try — it looked wobbly — so he stood on tiptoes and peered through the grimy windows. It was too dim to see much.
He turned away from the woolshed. About ten metres away stood Squint Lewis.
Simon felt giddy. Squint stood between him and the gate. He was trapped.
‘I warned you,’ said Squint, and smiled. It wasn’t friendly.
Three strides took him close to Simon. He grabbed the back of Simon’s neck, squeezed hard and shook him. Simon grunted with pain.
‘I’m good at hurting kids,’ Squint said softly, ‘’specially when they don’t do what they’re told.’ He forced Simon’s head up and around and pushed his own face close. His left eye looked straight into Simon’s eyes, his right eye swivelled sideways. His breath smelt of tobacco.
‘Last night I told you to keep away from here, and this morning you’ve come straight back. That’s a very, very serious mistake, because I’ll have to teach you a lesson.’ He gripped Simon’s arm and twisted it up behind his back. Simon cried out. Squint released his arm but held his wrist in a vice-like grip.
‘I’ll tell you a few things, kid — for your own good. One: you haven’t met me and we haven’t had this conversation. Two: you stay away from this yard. You think I’m rough? Well, you haven’t seen my dog in action — he’s killed a man on my orders. Three: if I find out you’ve told your grandfather about our little chat, I’ll come for you and I’ll hurt you very, very badly. There’s nowhere round here you can escape from me. And four: if I see you here again, I’ll set my dog on you. He’ll hurt you much worse — that’s a promise.’
He marched Simon, stumbling and in pain, back to the gate. ‘Go on,’ he sneered. ‘You got in, let’s see you get out.’
Simon crouched down by the gap between the gate and the fence and squeezed his head and shoulders through. He lay flat on his stomach, scrabbling for some leverage with his toes and pulling with his right arm. His left arm ached, particularly when he tried to use it, but he needed both arms to make progress. He was stuck. He rested his forehead on the ground.
‘You need some help,’ said Squint. He put his foot on Simon’s backside and shoved him forwards viciously. Simon tilted sideways onto his injured arm and groaned. Taking his weight on his other arm, he managed to pull his knees under him. Pushing and pulling and scraping along the pebbly ground, somehow he squeezed through and pulled himself to his feet. One knee stung badly. He fumbled to undo some of his shirt buttons and put his arm inside his shirt, hooking his thumb into the waistband of his pants. It held his arm steadier. He walked over to the ditch. How would he ever get his bike out? He didn’t know how he would get home.
Squint Lewis unlocked the gate and walked over.
‘You thought I wouldn’t see y’ bike in there, didn’t you? Well, I slept here last night, sport, because I had a kinda feeling a cocky little bugger like you might just come back.’
He reached down and hauled the bike onto the road. ‘Get on y’ bike and push off.’ He dropped his voice. ‘If there’s a next time, you won’t be in any state to ride a bike home — that’s a promise. And remember what I said: wherever you try to hide, I’ll find you. You stay away from the yard.’
Simon walked carefully along the road and down the hill, pushing his bike with one hand. His racing heart began to slow down, but his knees were still trembling and his mouth was dry. He was sore all over. Worst of all was how sick he felt. Sick and scared. He wanted his father to hug him and tell him they were in it together — but he was on his own. He couldn’t tell Barney, or Jem. But what if Jem turned up at the yard and got the same treatment? He would have to warn him … but then Jem would go blabbing to Barney.
He knew Squint Lewis would carry out his threats. He would hurt him even more badly — and enjoy doing it. You did what a man like that told you, no questions asked.
Stay away from the yard and keep out of trouble, Barney had said yesterday; now he knew why. Imagine if Squint was your father. Those kids have a hard time, Barney had also said, and their mother.
The lake came into view. The mist had evaporated as the sun climbed up out of the bush, and the lake lay stretched out like silk.
How could he explain his arm and his raw knee? Simon began to work out a story as he got closer to the house.
5
Simon felt a jolt of fear
‘There he is,’ said Barney, ‘just in time for breakfast.’
The kitchen was full of the smell of frying bacon. Jem was sitting at the table spooning up cornflakes. Tears welled up in Simon’s eyes before he could stop them.
‘Si!’ exclaimed Barney. ‘Hey, fella, what’s wrong?’ He moved over to Simon quickly. ‘What’s the matter with your arm? How did this happen?’
‘I came off the bike,’ said Simon. ‘Hit a stone — or something.’ His hands were trembling. ‘I fell on my left arm. It’s pretty sore.’
‘Sit down,’ said Barney. ‘I’ll get a sling.’ He went into the bathroom. Although he undid Simon’s shirt with great care and eased his arm into the sling, Simon yelped a couple of times and couldn’t stop trembling. Barney rubbed some gel gently into Simon’s shoulder. ‘This stuff’s good,’ he said. ‘We’ll put some more on later and you’ll be feeling better by tonight. Let’s find you a clean shirt and a jersey.’
Barney put a blanket around Simon and made him a mug of hot cocoa and some toast. Simon began to warm up. Barney cleaned his knees with warm water and disinfectant. He smeared the pink ointment he always used over the raw knee and put on a dressing.
Jem stared at him curiously. ‘Where did you fall off?’
‘I was going down the hill to the boat ramp.’
‘Headache?’ asked Barney.
Simon shook his head.
‘Could’ve been worse,’ said Barney. ‘Though this’ll cramp your style for a day or two. How’s the bike?’
Jem went out and checked the bike. It was fine.
‘Tougher than you,’ said Barney.
Back in the kitchen they finished breakfast. Simon felt caught in a no-man’s-land between the danger of the yard and the safety of home. His mind kept flitting between his encounter with Squint Lewis and the normality of Barney’s kitchen and the smells of breakfast. Neither felt real.
‘You going to be OK to go anywhere today?’ Barney asked Simon. ‘Or would you sooner stay home and have a quiet day?’
Simon wasn’t sure.
‘You should keep your knee dry and that arm in a sling for a couple of days,’ said Barney. ‘So fishing and swimming are out. Biking, too.’
‘Well, that’s just Simon,’ protested Jem. ‘What about me? I want to swim off the rock. You and I can do that and Simon can stay home.’
‘No!’ Simon felt a jolt of fear: Not alone in the house — this will be the first place Squint will come looking. ‘No, I’ll come and watch.’ Under Barney’s appraising eyes, he put his trembling hands under the table.
‘The upside is you can’t do the dishes,’ said Barney, smiling. ‘OK, swim this morning, but Shallow Cove, not the rock. Just to get used to the lake again,’ he added, stifling Jem’s protest. ‘Later this afternoon I’ll drive you past the house-yard — the Andrews have invited us to dinner.’
‘No!’ Another stab of alarm. Simon stared at his grandfather, his heart thumping.
Barney narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s up, Si?’
But Simon dropped his eyes. ‘Nothing,’ he mumbled.
Barney let it pass, and they got ready to walk along the point to the cove. Togs, towels, hats, sunscreen, supplies (Barney’s word for food and drink), books, binoculars and a bucket — they divided all the gear between two backpacks.
‘Jem ’n’ I’ll carry the stuff,’ said Barney. ‘And you won’t need your jersey.’ But Simon felt cold and kept it on.
Across the fence the grass was up to their knees. They climbed the stile and waded through the grass, lea
ving a wake of bent stalks. Tiny blue butterflies flitted from one yellow dandelion to another. They skirted blackberry patches where the berries were beginning to colour, and pushed on up the hill.
The puriri tree came into view, with its long, knotted rope hanging out over the lake edge.
‘The lake’s high enough at the moment to let go over the water,’ said Barney, ‘but keep an eye on it.’
The swing wasn’t the main attraction, however. They were looking out for the cherry tree, thinking about the first feast of the season. A few metres down the slope and they would see it.
But somebody else had got there first. Two figures were stretching up to pick the bunches of dark red, shiny berries.
‘They’re the kids I saw yesterday,’ said Jem indignantly. ‘What are they doing picking our cherries?’ He pushed on faster towards them.
‘Hang on, Jem!’ Barney raised his voice. ‘There’s plenty for everyone.’
The boy retreated behind the girl. She stood watching them approach through a fringe of red hair, arms hugging her waist.
‘Hello, Rosie, they’re looking good!’ Barney smiled as he walked closer.
She raised her head, but said nothing.
‘This is Simon and Jem, my grandsons from Auckland. Simon and Jem, meet Rosie and Tommy.’
Simon looked at them intently. Does their father knock them around? Are they frightened of him like I am? He made no move towards them.
Jem walked up to Tommy. ‘How old are you?’ he asked.
‘Eight.’
‘I’m eleven,’ responded Jem. ‘Do you ever swim off the rock at the bottom of the Masons’ garden?’
‘Mum won’t let us,’ replied Rosie. ‘She’s scared of the lake weed.’
‘So where do you swim?’
She jerked her head in the direction of the cove. ‘Down there.’
‘But that’s just for little kids,’ said Jem.
Rosie shrugged and dropped her eyes.
‘What’s wrong with your arm?’ Tommy asked Simon.
‘I fell off my bike this morning,’ replied Simon, a little too quickly.
Rosie looked at him sharply. She turned back to the cherries. They were filling a small carton. ‘Mum’s waiting for us at the Masons’,’ she said.
‘Are you coming to our place tomorrow with your mum?’ Jem asked. ‘It’s OK swimming off our jetty. You can catch koura, too. They like it in the shadows under the jetty.’
Rosie looked at him sideways. ‘Dunno,’ she said. ‘Prob’ly not. Might.’
Simon took a step towards her. He wanted to find out more about her father. ‘Are you any good at jigsaws? We’ll be starting on a 500-piecer tomorrow.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Tommy.
‘Yeah, I like jigsaws.’
She picked up the carton and started up the slope, Tommy following. They look awkward, thought Simon. He wasn’t quite sure why he thought that — just something about how they walked, sort of hunched.
‘See ya!’ called Jem, but they didn’t answer.
The best cherries were just out of reach. Barney shook the branches, and Simon and Jem gathered up the fallen cherries into the bucket. They ate a lot, so the bucket took some time to fill. The sun climbed higher and the cicadas hummed in the grass.
‘Can we go swimming now?’ asked Jem. They walked down to the small, white pumice beach.
‘Probably better to sit this one out,’ said Barney to Simon.
He and Jem stripped off and pulled on their togs. Jem ran into the water and belly-flopped, Barney walked down and stood on the edge pulling a face. ‘Darned cold,’ he grumbled. ‘And don’t you splash me,’ he warned Jem, ‘or else!’
Simon sat on the beach raking the coarse white grains into wavy patterns. His head was full of what had happened at the house-yard. He was still frightened: it felt as though he had a lump of ice in his chest. He wouldn’t be safe anywhere, and the only person who could help him lived in Australia. His lips trembled. He would have to be on his guard all the time and watch out for Jem, too. He looked behind him. Would he be safe even on the lake? Did Squint Lewis have a boat?
His grandfather waded out of the water and towelled himself vigorously. He sat next to Simon. Silently they watched Jem swimming and diving.
Barney broke the silence. ‘What really happened this morning, Si?’
‘N-nothing. I mean, I just fell off my bike.’
‘But that’s not the whole story, is it?’
‘It is! It is!’ Simon’s voice got higher and louder.
‘Then why are you so jumpy?’
‘Because I can’t do things. I’m going to have to sit around — like now.’
They both turned as footsteps crunched the sand.
‘Morning! Looks as though the early birds have got the cherries.’
Barney scrambled to his feet. ‘Hello, Marge. Yes, Rosie and Tommy took the easy ones and I’m afraid we picked the next layer up. Still plenty at the top, though. We can shake them down if you like.’
‘Don’t worry. Hec can take the boat round the point where they’re out over the water.’ She smiled at Simon. ‘Hello, Simon. Down for the holidays? Wonderful!’
Simon stood up. ‘Hello, Mrs Mason.’ He waited for the comment on his sling, but Jem came running from the water shouting. He flung his arms around Mrs Mason.
‘You little water rat,’ she laughed.
She likes him much more than me, thought Simon sourly, but Mrs Mason came over to Simon and put her arm through his. ‘You’re getting a bit big for me to hug, Si — next holidays you’ll be taller than me.’ She fingered the edge of the sling. ‘Must be easier ways to get out of doing the chores,’ she said. ‘Hope it mends quickly, we’re counting on you to catch our dinner one night. Remember the deal: you catch, I cook.’ She gave his good arm a quick squeeze. ‘I’m off — they want their morning tea up there.’ She helped herself to some of their cherries as she walked up the slope.
Barney pulled on his shirt and hat. ‘Cover yourself up,’ he told Jem. ‘It’s time to lighten up these packs.’ He rummaged around and pulled out a plastic box. They sat in the sun, munching and reading, and Simon began to relax.
6
‘But why all that security?’
Late afternoon, Barney drove past the house-yard on the way to the Andrews’. Simon sat in the back on the driver’s side so his grandfather couldn’t see him ducking down — Squint Lewis mustn’t see him. On the seat beside him was an ice-cream container filled with cherries for the Andrews.
‘Can we stop and have a look?’ asked Jem, but Barney said they were running late.
‘Where’s the dog, then?’
Barney said that Mr Lewis seemed to leave the dog alone on guard during the day — at least that is when he usually saw him. He had never stopped at night so he didn’t know where the dog was then. The whole thing was a nonsense, he continued. Who on earth did they think would want to break into a house-yard in a place like this? You couldn’t exactly put a house on your trailer and drive away with it.
The house-yard and the Lewises were the adults’ main topics of conversation over dinner, although from time to time they remembered that Simon and Jem were listening and changed the subject.
‘There are days on end when that poor woman never shows her face,’ said Mrs Andrews, ‘and Rosie puts out the washing and does the shopping.’ She exchanged looks with Barney and Mr Andrews. She wanted to take some baking and vegetables to them, she said, but was never sure where that brute of a dog would be, and after Squint shouted at her to stop snooping, she’d kept away.
‘It’s a funny set-up, all right,’ her husband agreed. ‘The fellow who bought the land said they wanted to build holiday homes, but they had to make some quick money out of it first. You wonder what the council was thinking agreeing to the yard — all those trucks on a secondary road.’
‘But why all that security?’ Barney asked.
Mr Andrews laughed. ‘It’s not that secur
e,’ he said. ‘There’s not much of a fence along the edge of the bush. They seem to think the bush is a barrier, but anyone could pull up a boat round there and walk up the track.’
Mrs Andrews returned to the family. ‘The three of them look like whipped dogs most of the time. Sometimes Rosie’ll return a hello, but I never get a peep out of that little brother of hers. And Alice avoids me down at the store.’
‘I think we all keep an eye out for them,’ said Barney. ‘It’s all you can do under the circumstances.’
What’s he mean? thought Simon. What circumstances?
Soon after, they went home and did some more of the jigsaw puzzle. The horses and the knights’ pennants were easy, but the castle courtyard took ages. Their mother rang. Barney took the call in the kitchen, then both boys had a turn talking to her. Simon had to repeat his story about falling off the bike. She asked an awful lot of questions before she hung up.
‘Let’s go to the house-yard tomorrow,’ said Jem. ‘I want to make friends with the dog.’
‘I can’t ride my bike,’ said Simon quickly.
‘Well, why don’t we row round to the track and walk up through the bush? It sounds as though we could get in quite easily.’
‘I can’t row either.’ Simon felt his grandfather watching him.
‘I can.’
‘Give it a day or two, Jem,’ said Barney. ‘I think I’d be more comfortable if you had a fence between you and the dog. If you can get in through the back fence, maybe the dog can get out.’
‘I’m not afraid of the dog,’ said Jem. ‘Dogs always do what I want. I just talk to them.’
‘Not this dog!’ Simon heard the note of panic in his voice. ‘He’s a killer! You shouldn’t try it on.’
‘Have you seen the dog?’ asked Barney.
Simon flushed. ‘No,’ he replied, ‘but you said he was a brute.’
