The Last Road Trip

by Gareth Crocker

  Jack considered his response. ‘I know you, Sam. That’s not who you are.’

  ‘I can still see the look on her face. It was like she was staring at a monster. And she was, Jack. She was. I’d do anything to go back and change what happened. I’d cut off this fucking arm,’ he said, holding his right hand up in disgust, ‘if it would do any good.’

  ‘It was a mistake, Sam. A horrible … mistake. When you’re drinking you can’t—’

  ‘Don’t, Jack. Please. Don’t even say it.’

  Jack checked himself then grasped for something else to say. ‘Does she know about last year? About the cancer?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘She has a right to know.’

  ‘I’ve put her through enough. I won’t guilt her into speaking to me.’

  ‘She’s your daughter, Sam. She deserves the truth. Besides, you’re in remission now. What’s the harm?’

  Sam opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

  ‘What is it?’

  Sam cocked his head to the side. ‘It’s not over, Jack.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The cancer’s back. It’s in my lungs now.’

  ‘Christ, Sam … why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t be on this trip. You should be getting treatment, for God’s sake!’

  ‘It’s spreading, Jack. There’s nothing they can do. Not any more,’ Sam continued, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. ‘So I figured a road trip was a damn sight better than a hospital bed. You know? If you think about it, Albert and I are in much the same position. This is it for us, Jack.’

  Jack stared at his friend, numb. ‘I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what to think. You don’t look sick, Sam.’

  ‘I was a lawyer for a long time, Jack. I know how to play my cards close. Besides, I’m not in much pain for now. I’m sure that’ll come soon enough …’

  ‘But Sam—’

  ‘There’s nothing else that needs saying, Jack. I’m just glad to be out here. This is more than I could’ve hoped for.’

  Jack lifted his hands to his head. He stared up at the stars and then back down at his friend. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be, Jack. Don’t be,’ he said, and then turned to look at the moon once more. ‘Look at her. Isn’t she something? Just a photo and a telephone number. I’m telling you.’

  Fifteen

  After Jack had finally agreed not to tell the others, both men rose to their feet. Sam looked at him and cleared his throat. ‘This trip is important, Jack. For all of us. Probably more than you realise.’

  Before Jack could respond, Sam thanked him for the evening and headed off towards his room. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe we’ll find that bird for Albert. The elusive kori bustard. Rescuer of lost soldiers. That would be pretty sweet.’

  ‘It would be,’ was all Jack could summon.

  For the next three hours Jack lay wide awake with his hands knitted behind his head. As he listened to the sounds of the bush, he stared up at the thatch ceiling and tried to make sense of what he had just found out about his friend. The Sam he knew was not in any way a violent man. He was a gentle and kind soul. Patient. Tolerant to a fault. In fact, Jack realised, he had never even heard Sam raise his voice. And while he knew that he had only ever known Sam after he had quit drinking, he couldn’t imagine him raising a hand against anyone – let alone the person he loved most in the world.

  ‘Shit,’ Jack whispered into the darkness. He tried to consider what Sam had been going through all these years. Holding his pain inside. Torturing himself day after day. He wondered – and the irony wasn’t lost on him – what had eaten away at his friend the most. One moment of madness? Or the cancer?

  He imagined it wasn’t even a contest.

  They were back on the road just as the sun was cutting through the tops of the trees. Large swathes of yellow light lit up the dust on the Chrysler’s windows. The temperature dial on the dashboard read twenty-nine degrees centigrade and it wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet.

  ‘So why’s everyone so quiet?’ Rosie piped up, making light work of a shortbread biscuit.

  Jack looked up at the rear-view mirror. ‘Just trying to wake up.’

  Albert, sitting between Rosie and Elizabeth, was wired after three cups of coffee. ‘I’m awake.’

  ‘From what I’ve seen, Albert, you never sleep at all,’ Elizabeth cut in, smoothing out her silk skirt.

  ‘I find it very difficult to sleep in this place. There’s just too much happening all around us.’

  Rosie used her tongue to clean her teeth. ‘Worried you’re going to miss something?’

  ‘I suppose I am. Yes.’

  Jack glanced across at Sam, who was dozing quietly in the passenger seat. Jack was still struggling to come to terms with what his friend had told him. Trying to push it out of his mind, he looked back over his shoulder. ‘So, Albert, how about a wager?’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘I bet you any dinner you like that we find your bird today. What do you say?’

  ‘Deal,’ Albert nodded. ‘Although it’s a bet I’d be happy to lose.’

  Rosie wiped a not-insignificant number of crumbs from her T-shirt, which read Fat people have feelings too. Hunger, mostly. ‘That’s not a fair bet.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, because Albert will probably have forgotten all about the bet by lunchtime.’

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Albert. You’ll get used to Rosie’s wildly inappropriate comments after a few more days. Really, underneath that acerbic outer crust, she’s all heart.’

  ‘Not true. I’m mainly made of cholesterol.’

  Albert beamed, despite the joke at his expense. He then looked down at Pilot who was lying in the footwell beneath Elizabeth’s legs. ‘And what’s your name, fella?’

  Rosie felt the smile slip from her face. ‘That’s Pilot, Albert.’

  ‘Pilot?’ Albert asked, confused. ‘Yes. He’s your dog. We … uh … took him away from your son-in-law.’

  ‘My son-in-law? That’s impossible.’

  ‘You asked us to fetch him. Don’t you remember?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but that can’t be right.’

  ‘What do you mean? Why not?’ Jack asked, wading into the exchange.

  ‘Well, for one thing my son-in-law lives in Australia. And my Pilot died many years ago. I buried him myself. Cried like a child when it happened.’

  Rosie held out her hands as if to try to steady the conversation. ‘Albert, you gave us an address. We went to the house and there was a black Labrador chained to a wall. Just as you told us there would be. You said that was Pilot.’

  Albert thought for a few moments. ‘Was the house surrounded by a large palisade fence?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘I think that might’ve been my old neighbour. They used to have a Labrador named Bobby or Benny or something. They kept him chained up. Always hated that.’

  Rosie lifted a hand to her mouth. ‘We stole the wrong dog.’

  ‘Oh God, what are we going to do?’ Elizabeth asked softly.

  ‘About what?’ Albert asked.

  Rosie stared back at him, incredulous. ‘About the dog, Albert.’

  Perplexed, he glanced down at the Labrador. ‘You mean Pilot?’

  ‘Pilot? Albert what the hell—’

  And that’s when he broke into a broad smile. He folded his arms and winked back at Rosie. ‘You’re not the only one who likes a good joke.’

  Sixteen

  As it turned out, Jack lost the bet. Not only were they unable to find a single kori bustard that day, but they failed to find any in the three days that followed. They had travelled virtually the entire length of the Park – had borne witness to rare sightings aplenty – but not once had they even glimpsed the bird.

  While Jack knew that as far as Albert was concerned, the trip was already an unmitigated success – something th
at he would cherish for as long as his ailing mind could hold on to the memories – Jack was becoming increasingly desperate to find the bird. Hour by hour, his obsession grew. Rocks, tree stumps and anthills all started to look like kori bustards. Even clumps of tall veld grass appeared to be made of feathers. Whenever they came across a game ranger’s vehicle, Jack would flag it down and ask for advice. But, so far, it had all come to naught.

  They were driving over a corrugated bridge in the late afternoon when Elizabeth reached for her binoculars. For a while she tried to make sense of what she was seeing, but the car was shaking too much for her to get a fix on it. ‘Jack, can we stop for a moment?’

  Jack eased the car to a halt at the end of the bridge. ‘What is it, Lizzie?’

  Elizabeth stared into the binoculars for a long while, carefully refocusing the lenses. ‘I can see something in the riverbed.’

  As one, they all turned towards the sandy vein that cut through the trees beneath them.

  ‘I— I don’t know. I think … I might’ve spotted one.’

  Albert, sparked into action, leaned across Elizabeth and scanned the area with his own binoculars. At first he couldn’t find what she was looking at, but soon locked on to it. Partially obscured in a patch of shadow stood the distant though unmistakable form of a kori bustard. ‘Oh my God, that’s it! It’s definitely a kori bustard! Oh look at that! I think it’s a male. He’s enormous!’

  Using a third set of binoculars, Jack also honed in on the bird. It was too far away to see clearly, but it was there.

  Albert kept the binoculars pinned to his face. ‘Oh thank you, Jack. Thank you, everyone! This is wonderful. Remarkable!’

  Jack was relieved that they had finally found what they had come to see, but something about the moment seemed wrong to him. In his mind, he had romanticised the encounter, had imagined a close-up experience with the bird. Not this at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

  After a minute or so of Albert offering a running commentary on the bird’s possible weight and age, even the condition of his plumage, Jack stopped him. ‘Albert.’

  ‘Yes, Jack,’ he replied, his gaze still focused on the river.

  ‘I don’t think this is good enough.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We’re too far away.’

  Albert lowered the binoculars and looked at Jack.

  Sam, reading his friend’s mind, began to smile.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Elizabeth asked.

  At that point, Rosie also picked up the thread. ‘Jack wants to take Albert in for a closer look.’

  ‘But how? We can’t drive into the riverbed.’

  ‘On foot,’ she added.

  Albert swung his head towards Rosie and then back at Jack. Something flickered in his eyes.

  ‘I don’t mind the risk if you don’t,’ Jack whispered.

  ‘No. I won’t let you endanger your life for me. It’s not—’

  ‘Albert, listen to me. I’m going to take a walk down into that riverbed with or without you. I’d rather it be with you.’

  ‘You’re not being serious.’

  Jack clicked open his door. ‘Oh, I’m serious.’

  Sam, swept up by the moment, nodded his agreement. ‘I’ll help you, Jack. We’ll do it together.’

  ‘Oh this is absurd,’ Elizabeth said, her voice rising. ‘You three can’t go out there.’

  Rosie shrugged at that. ‘No point arguing, Lizzy. Jack’s got that look about him.’

  ‘We’ll be fine, Liz. It’s a dry riverbed. There’s plenty of visibility on both sides.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure the predators will be able to see you very clearly.’

  ‘This isn’t a zoo. It’s not like there’s a lion behind every tree. We’ll only be a few minutes.’

  Elizabeth thought of arguing the point, but then glanced across at Albert and saw the one thing in his eyes with the power to disarm her: hope.

  She sighed and slowly shook her head. ‘Oh … just make it quick.’

  Having hauled Albert into his wheelchair, Jack and Sam managed to roll him down the bank easily enough, but progress in the thick river sand soon proved all but impossible. So, instead, they each grabbed a side of the wheelchair and began to carry Albert towards the bird, which was now perched on a log less than 300 yards from them.

  ‘This sand looked a lot firmer from the car,’ Sam said, beginning to breathe hard.

  ‘Can I do anything to help?’ Albert asked.

  ‘Sure, lean towards Jack,’ Sam replied. ‘He’s the fit one.’

  ‘Just enjoy the ride, Albert. Don’t listen to the old man – he needs the exercise.’

  As they slowly made their way, each man began to take in what they were doing, what they were feeling.

  ‘This is remarkable,’ Albert said, trying to steady his words. ‘I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.’

  Sam looked at Jack and nodded. ‘That’s the thing about our Jack – he’s always doing things that you don’t quite expect. But even by his standards,’ he said, swallowing hard, ‘this is something.’

  As they closed in on the bird, and as the great riverine trees arched above them, Jack whispered to Albert. ‘Look at that. It’s like a guard of honour.’

  Albert looked up into the tall branches and his mouth sagged open.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ he managed.

  A minute later they had made it to within throwing distance of the great bird. Standing as tall as a five-year-old child, it craned its head towards them. It was clearly wary of them, but not sufficiently perturbed to fly away. Moving as slowly and as quietly as they could, they lowered Albert’s chair into the sand and stood back.

  And then they watched as, in the heart of a dry riverbed, Albert Brooks fulfilled a lifelong dream.

  Neither man saying a word.

  Seventeen

  Jack stared into the fire, mesmerised. For the first time since they had come to the Park, there were voluminous clouds in the night sky. They glowed a vivid orange, as if reflecting the flames at their feet.

  ‘To our last day here,’ Sam said, raising his glass. ‘And to finally finding our bird.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Albert followed, lifting his drink.

  Elizabeth sighed and hugged herself. ‘I’m not sure I want to leave. It’s so wonderful here.’

  Thunder rumbled through the trees and a wind picked up. Pilot raised his head and sniffed at the air.

  ‘Can you smell the rain coming, boy?’ Jack asked, ruffling the Labrador’s head.

  ‘Jack,’ Rosie remarked, cocking her head towards the tree house, ‘with a storm coming, you might want to rethink your strategy of sleeping in a lightning conductor.’

  Sam regarded Jack with a look that suggested Rosie’s comment was valid. ‘She might have a point.’

  Before Jack could respond, lightning snapped into the trees ahead of them. As if it had punctured one of the clouds, large droplets of rain began to fall. As one, they scrambled under the cover of the outdoor kitchen. Sitting side by side on a long wooden bench, they stared out through the fence and into the bush.

  ‘This just caps it all off. I was so hoping we’d see some rain,’ Albert said, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. ‘It’s incredible! Can you smell it?’

  ‘Yes. It smells like pneumonia.’

  ‘Oh come on, Rosie! I know you’re loving it as much as I am.’

  Begrudgingly, she smirked. ‘Maybe not quite as much as you.’

  More lightning flashed and, as it did, Jack rose to his feet.

  Sam was the first to notice the look on his face. ‘Jack, what is it?’

  ‘There,’ he said, pointing towards the fence. ‘Look.’

  At first, there was nothing to see but the rain and the night. Until lightning flickered again and the bodies of half a dozen enormous elephants lit up the bush. They glided silently past the fence – barely metres from the covered kitchen patio – like glistening grey ghosts, their
tusks swaying gently ahead of them like scimitar swords.

  Sam and Elizabeth stood up to join Jack.

  In the darkness that followed, only the elephants’ large shoulders were visible in the gloom. They shifted and rolled like mountains being blown in the wind.

  Even Rosie was taken by the moment. ‘Sweet Jesus,’ she whispered. ‘Would you look at that?’

  Eighteen

  Having left the camp well before dawn, they were nearing the exit to the Park when the sun finally broke over the horizon. Heavy greys and dark greens gave way to an explosion of colour. The rivers flowed bright brown, and fever trees glowed like apparitions in the early morning light. All around, starlings twitched and darted in their sapphire armour, glistening and glinting as the light caught their wings.

  Jack looked down at the speedometer and immediately lifted his foot off the accelerator. There was no reason to rush. The open road could wait.

  ‘So about those elephants last night,’ Rosie said. ‘They really were quite something.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Sam agreed.

  ‘What I can’t get over is how quiet they were. They hardly made a sound. I know the storm had just started, but still. It was as if they were floating above the ground.’

  ‘Ever heard of an Elephant Pause, Lizzie?’ Jack asked.

  ‘A what?’

  ‘An Elephant Pause. When arriving at a place where an elephant has died – even years after the fact – many elephants will stop walking and stand, motionless, sometimes for minutes on end. The experts believe it’s both an act of mourning and a gesture of respect for the life that’s been lost. No other animal on the planet does it.’

  ‘That’s really beautiful,’ Elizabeth replied softly, picturing the scene in her mind. ‘And sad.’

  Jack wanted to engage Albert on the subject when he noticed that Albert was sound asleep, his head resting against the window. About time, Jack thought, convinced that the man had been awake for days.