Tommo and Hawk

by Bryce Courtenay

  ‘No! Damn ya! Maggie! Where’s Maggie Pye?’

  He points again to the dead man and a rasping noise come out of his throat. ‘Unn…’

  I clocks him hard on the cheek and me hand comes away messed with pus and blood. ‘Where?’ I yells.

  ‘Unn…unnerneath!’

  ‘Underneath?’

  Johnny Terrible nods his head, but it ain’t possible for anyone to fit underneath that couch.

  Suddenly I go cold. I walk over to Fat Fred and shine the lantern light over his huge form. And then I see it. The tips of the fingers of a small female hand sticking out from under his shoulder.

  Maggie lies underneath this mountain o’ dead human flesh.

  I scream and grab the dead man’s arms. I pull and pull at him, but Fat Fred’s body will not budge. ‘Help me!’ I scream to Johnny Terrible. He tries to get up but can’t. ‘Help me, ya bastard, help me!’ I keep pulling at Fat Fred’s arm, and I begin to blub. If Hawk were here he’d lift him off in an instant and Maggie’d be free!

  ‘It’s no good, Tommo!’ Johnny Terrible’s voice rasps. ‘She’s dead!’ I am frozen in me grief, listening to him. ‘Mr Sparrow done it…with the lads…before they scarpered.’

  ‘What happened?’ I whisper.

  ‘They thought it be a great lark…yer know,’ Johnny swallows, ‘Fat Fred and Maggie.’ He swallows again and his voice grows firmer. ‘Mr Sparrow sent a note to Maggie tellin’ her to come an’ get the money what he owed ter Mr Tang Wing Hung. But he never meant fer her to ‘ave it. Instead he told the lads to grab her soon as she got ‘ere. Then they gags her and ties her to the couch with her legs spread ready. Fat Fred, what’s only half drunk, climbs on top and fucks her.’

  Johnny’s hoarse voice chokes. ‘Suddenly Fred raises his head…and…he gives a groan and grabs his chest. All the lads are clapping, thinking Fat Fred’s had his pleasure. But he ‘asn’t, it’s his fuckin’ heart!’ He takes a breath and forces the words out. ‘Fred gasps and gurgles and falls over Maggie, so she can’t breathe none. And all the time the lads just thinks it’s Fat Fred enjoying hisself!’

  Johnny Terrible’s voice trails away and he just looks at me as the tears run down me cheeks. ‘Then…when they finds out Fat Fred’s took dead…they all scarpers. Mr Sparrow leaves with a big bag o’ stuff, thousands and thousands worth, and him disguised like one o’ the Sydney lads.’

  ‘The fucking mongrel! Where is he?’ I sob, hitting my hand to my pounding head in anger.

  Johnny Terrible points to his mouth and begs in a croaking voice, ‘Water.’

  I splash what’s left in the jug over his gob.

  ‘Where is he?’ I yell again, shaking with pain and rage.

  ‘I’ll tell ya. What’s the time?’ he asks.

  I take my hunter from me pocket. ‘A quarter to eight.’

  ‘Tide turns at nine o’clock. He’s on the Morning Song — a trading vessel, kanaka crew. She’s bound for the Fiji Islands, sails with the tide tonight.’

  ‘Tonight? Christ Jesus! Where’s she moored?’

  ‘Anchored midstream, in the harbour two hundred yards or so from Kellett’s Wharf.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I shout. ‘How’d ya know he’s there for sure?’ I shove his leg with me boot in a wave of fury.

  ‘I done the arrangements meself, paid the master one ‘undred quid, the same to be paid again by Mr Sparrow when he comes aboard safe,’ he replies sadly. ‘Tang Wing Hung sent a message with Ho Kwong Choi this morning when he come to give Mr Sparrow his pipe. He said if he paid the ten thousand what he owed, he were free to scarper.’ Johnny Terrible shrugs his shoulders, wincing as he does so. ‘Mr Sparrow gave the old Chinaman diamonds and emeralds and other valuables and he went!’

  ‘Why’d he not take you, then?’ I snarl. ‘You’re his bleedin’ right-hand man.’

  To me surprise the tears run down Johnny’s cheeks. ‘I tried to save Maggie when Mr Sparrow wanted his revenge on her—for scheming with you lot against him. “Let me just beat her up bad, cut ’er tits, that be all that’s needed,” I offers him.’ Johnny Terrible is now sobbing. ‘But he said I’d changed sides on ‘im—and that he couldn’t trust me no more, and he set the lads on me and had ’em tie me up.’ He wipes the snot from his bleeding nose.

  ‘He were like a father to me, he were—the only one I ever had.’ Johnny puts his head between his knees and sobs. ‘I dunno why I didn’t do what he said. She were only a fuckin’ whore. Why should I care anyway?’ He looks up at me puzzled. ‘She were the first woman what’s ever kissed me, and she said she’d fix me face up fer me!’ Now he begins to howl like a little boy. Despite me pain and grief, I can’t help feelin’ sorry for the lad. He were only a pawn what the mongrel’s used, and he saw the good in Maggie too.

  ‘Johnny, I got t’ go!’ I says, though I want to howl meself. The fucking mongrels have taken Maggie and destroyed my brother’s life. I would gladly die if only it would bring Maggie back for him. Sweet Maggie Pye, who Hawk loved so much. I feel despair overtake me.

  Then Johnny Terrible speaks up. ‘Mr Sparrow never did love me, I know it now, never at all!’ he blubs. He swallows his tears. ‘Mr Sparrow ain’t got no heart, that’s what!’

  ‘Mongrels don’t have a heart, that’s why they’s mongrels,’ I hears meself say. And I start to get ready to go. I have but seventy minutes before the tide turns.

  I put the axe back in me shoulder holster and, giving the lamp to Johnny, turn to leave. I’m already at the door to the passage when I hear him say, ‘Tommo, they’ll be watching out fer trouble ‘til they sail. Don’t take a row boat. Can yiz swim?’

  ‘Aye,’ I replies, I’d swim the seven seas to get the mongrel what killed Maggie. And there ain’t a single doubt in me head that I’m gunna. Mr F. Artie Sparrow be as good as dead already—he just don’t know it yet.

  Suddenly, I remembers something what Mary told Hawk before he left for London, and what later he told me. ‘Life is too precious that you should die for money. If you has to die, then die for love!’ Up to now, it’s always been Hawk what took on the mongrels. This time the fight’s all mine. Old Tommo must be his brother’s champion.

  ‘Johnny, soon as you can walk, fetch Hawk. He’s at the Hero o’ Waterloo. Tell him everything what’s happened. And tell him Mary must not be with him when he comes to fetch Maggie.’ I swallow a sob.

  ‘Tell Hawk everything and Mary can’t come,’ Johnny Terrible repeats.

  I’m halfway down the passageway when I turn back.

  ‘Johnny?’

  ‘Yes, Tommo?’

  ‘Tell my mama I love her—and tell me brother I loves him too. Tell Hawk I wish him a long life and ask him to look after me daughter.’ I hand Johnny the three magpie feathers what I’ve held clasped, bidding Maggie a silent farewell. ‘Tell him that by the time he gets these, I’ll have took care o’ the mongrel for him, and tell him now I finally knows what’s worth dying for.’

  ‘Righto, Tommo.’

  I don’t suppose Johnny Terrible will remember all that, but then I don’t suppose it matters. Hawk knows yours truly loved him.

  ALSO BY BRYCE COURTENAY

  THE POWER OF ONE

  First with your head and then with your heart…

  So says Hoppie Groenewald, boxing champion, to a seven-year-old boy who dreams of being the welterweight champion of the world. For the young Peekay, it is a piece of advice he will carry with him throughout his life.

  Born in a South Africa divided by racism and hatred, this one small boy will come to lead all the tribes of Africa. Through enduring friendships with Hymie and Gideon, Peekay gains the strength he needs to win out. And in a final conflict with his childhood enemy, the Judge, Peekay will fight to the death for justice…

  Bryce Courtenay’s classic bestseller is a story of the triumph of the human spirit—a spellbinding tale for all ages

  bsp;