by James Brown
Being a simpleton that she was, she saw no harm in joining the vet for a cup of tea. She quickly sat down on the chair facing Sandy and thanked him for taking the pain to make tea for her.
“That’s no problem, Jade. It’s not every day that a lady as beautiful as you comes visiting. I wouldn’t miss the opportunity at any cost. Also, I thought you would like this room.”
Jade felt slightly uncomfortable at this. The sixth sense of a woman was aroused. It was one thing to praise a woman but it was considered bad manners to do so repeatedly. Taking it in her stride, she took the cup from Sandy’s outstretched hands and started sipping the tea quickly. She noticed Sandy’s eyes drifting slightly below to her ripe cleavage. She felt slightly angry and a bit subdued. Suddenly, she felt as if the room was melting away and her head was clenched in between a giant clamp, which was pressing it very hard from both sides. Her throat felt dry, she could hardly sit straight as the whole room was spinning in front of her eyes. Her vision became blurred and she could hardly speak.
As she slumped on to the floor, Sandy quickly got up and went out of the room. He bolted the far door, and then the second door, and came into the study. He lifted Jade in his arms and took her to the bedroom. He closed the door behind him.
His prayers had finally been answered.
The strong dose of Valium had hit the delicate nervous system of Jade with full force.
As she started to gain consciousness, the first thing Jade noticed was that she was all alone in a small bedroom, naked. She somehow put on her clothes and dashed out, tears swelling in her eyes. Sandy was sitting right at the table, as if nothing had happened. On seeing her, he said, “Come, come Jade, let’s have another cup of tea.”
She simply ran out of the room, out of the hall, and on to the courtyard where the van was still parked. Pulling out the keys, which were still with her, she started the engine and drove away at full speed towards the farm.
Chapter 3
After dropping Jade at the vet, Nathan sped off towards the central road going away from the town towards Adelaide. As he passed by the town center, he saw his old buddy Jack Gardiner on the street and immediately pulled up next to him. As it was a Sunday morning, Nathan asked him if he was free to join him for a ride to the big city. Jack agreed immediately, as nobody refused a free ride to the big city, that too in good company. Jack got in and they both sped towards Adelaide.
Jack was a rugged outspoken south Australian country boy. His only passion was the ocean and anything related to it, especially boats. He could talk for hours on the various kinds of boats he had seen, boarded or worked on. He was usually seen at the harbor working the boats. He also owned a boat, which he had managed to get from its previous owner at a throwaway price. He had restored it with an old Johnson outboard engine. It was a nice little getaway boat for four people. Often, Nathan and Jack took it out to the sea, along the bay and put it to test. It responded beautifully at full throttle and achieved fantastic speeds, giving them great thrill. Jack dreamed of having a big fleet of boats one day and starting his own business of building and selling boats.
The church clock gonged to announce the arrival of Jack and Nathan back in town at exactly eight in the night. The drive had been long and hard and Nathan was happy he had taken Jack along. Jack had driven the truck back home while Nathan looked into the various designs proposed by the design firm.
As they entered the farm, Nathan was surprised to see that there were no lights. Jade usually put on the lamp lights at dusk to light up the small driveway leading to the front porch of the farm. But today there was no light even in the house. Also, Nathan was surprised to see the dispensary van parked right inside the front porch of the house. Usually, the area was reserved for their own truck. The first thought that struck Nathan’s mind was that perhaps Stan was not well and the vet was visiting. He asked Jack to wait in the truck and rushed over to the barn. He was further puzzled to see that Stan was not there.
He entered the house screaming, “Jade, I am back.”
Suddenly he froze in his tracks. He felt paralyzed by some unseen mind numbing force. How? Why? For how long? Thoughts flew discordantly through his mind as he tried and failed to comprehend the scene before him. Right across the room, suspended from the ceiling with a rope around the neck, was the lifeless body of his beloved Jade. She was looking up at the ceiling with listless eyes.
His mind went numb.
He lost his comprehension for a brief period of time before he started sobbing uncontrollably. He quickly cut the rope and eased Jade’s body down on to the floor. He sat down on the floor with her head in between his hands, all the time staring at the face of his beloved wife. Jack entered the room only to see Nathan sitting on the floor with Jade’s head resting on his lap and crying hysterically. He could hardly comprehend what had happened. Then he saw the note. It was nailed on to the wooden pillar with a kitchen knife. There were just two words on it - Sandy Vet.
All at once Nathan was free from confusion. He was possessed by a passionate hatred, a fury at the beast that had dared to commit such an abhorrent act. As hot blood rushed through his veins, he could feel his heart pound with vengeance. “I’ll kill the bastard. I’ll kill him!”
Sandy had just finished supper and was preparing to retire for the night. He was sure that Jade would have overcome her initial reactions and made peace with the new situation. He thought it would soon become a regular ritual for him to call her and enjoy her body at his will. He had really enjoyed ravishing her beautiful body with such abandon. Suddenly, he heard a truck pull up outside. Along with it came hurried footsteps and he could sense two people enter the outer room and walk in towards the study in heavy farm boots.
As he came out of the bedroom, Nathan fired the first shot, which hit him on the chest, causing him to fall back inside the room. By the time he opened his eyes, Nathan and Jack were right on top of him. He shielded his face with his hands, but Nathan started kicking and hitting him with the gun. Jack kicked him and spat on him. Finally, they shot him two or three times again, gave the body a final kick, and rushed off from the dispensary.
As they got into the truck, Nathan’s mind was racing. They drove back to the barn. Nathan quickly packed his bag. He took out all the money and the property documents from the safety vault and gave them to Jack.
“I will need your boat, Jack. You keep the farm. I don’t think I will need it anymore.”
Before Jack could say anything, he thrust the documents in his hands and asked him to come with him to the docks. They both sped towards the pier where Jack’s boat was harbored.
Jack suddenly veered towards the town center.
“Take me to the docks to your boat, we don’t have much time.” Nathan shouted.
“You will be needing food and charts and some essentials such as a compass, life jackets and clothes for your long journey. Fortunately, I keep the store keys on Saturdays as I open the store early on Monday. The storekeeper comes in late. Let’s load up all the supplies and then rush to the boat,” Jack explained.
Nathan agreed and they sped towards the town center.
As the boat left the shores, a faint shadow flew across the harbor on to the water. But it suddenly vanished into thin air, as if it wanted to board the boat but could not keep up with the speed and so gave up midway. It was the shadow of a small evil man.
Thus began the journey of Nathan on the small boat ‘The Tempest’. He headed to the open seas, right across the Pacific Ocean, reaching the western parts of the great American continent, a distance of more than 15,000 kilometers. Jack had loaded more than 10 sacks of ration and water and other essentials on the boat for him, which they had picked up from the store that fateful night.
The journey was long and painful. The pain was more internal. Nathan had reached a stage where external pain provided diversion and relief. He had lost all sense of time and being. Many a times, he would pass out for hours or maybe even days, drifting at the mercy of the
waves of the omnipresent ocean. But miraculously, he managed to be on course with the help of the compass and the boat’s powerful engines.
After several weeks, Nathan finally managed to reach the shores of San Francisco on Carmel Bay. He docked the boat in the shallow waters and waded on to the shore with his small attaché.
Nathan still had a small bunch of Australian notes with him. He spent the night on the streets of Carmel. He slept on a bench and was woken up by an elderly man in the morning. The man happened to run a small hotel in the town. He offered to take him in, in lieu of his services as a helper.
This was the rebirth of Nathan in the great nation of the United States of America. He changed his name to Paul. Soon, he moved to New York. From there he reached the small town of Rochester, which finally became his home.
Chapter 4
Nick was at his vociferous best at the next council meeting. He had prepared his case very well and was elaborating the merits of starting a fast ferry service between the town and the big city of Toronto. The council members were quite convinced, although there were a few who had some doubts but they were overruled by the vast majority. The motion was passed with the blessings of Father Paul who also voted in favor of the motion.
Then the issue of funding was raised. Nick had the perfect answer to that as well. He had discussed the matter with the chairman of a local community bank. The banker had gone through the financial reports of the project along with his auditors and had given an ‘in principal’ approval for the venture.
It was decided that a committee be formed to take the matter forward. It would comprise the active members of the council, headed by Father Paul. It was Nick who proposed his name and no one had any objection to it.
The whole town was excited that the proposal had been accepted and was ready for execution. Everyone wanted to get it done at the earliest. It became the favorite topic of discussion for the entire town. Father Paul got busy organizing the various aspects of the project. The town had received quotations from various firms but the original plan of buying the boat from Australia seemed the cheapest option. The company proposed by Nick had a good performance and delivery record. Father Paul had written to the company to see if it could reduce its prices as this was a community project and the town had a limited budget.
One fine day, as Father Paul was sitting in his office, the phone on his desk started to ring. He picked up the call and said, in his carefully cultivated American accent, “Father Paul speaking.”
The answer startled him completely. “Hi, this is Jack Gardiner from Gardiner Brothers speaking from Adelaide.”
Father Paul was in shock. For once he couldn’t speak but he finally gathered himself and said, “I have sent you a request to negotiate the quote. Please see what best you can do.”
Jack, in his strong all-too-familiar Australian accent, said, “I was wondering if I could drop by and discuss the matter with you. Anyway I have plans to visit NYC in the coming week. Would it be okay if I drop by next Wednesday and finalize the price across the table?”
Father Paul just mumbled, “Okay, fine.” He then put down the handset. His mind could still not accept the fact that the voice on the other end of the line was that of his old friend Jack.
Jack was in two minds. He obviously had no other work in NYC and the response from Father Paul was lukewarm, to say the least. But this contract was very important to him since business of late had not been too good. With mounting debts and increasing expenses, he was in a deep financial crisis, which could be wiped out with this big order, if it materialized. He decided to take a chance and dialed his secretary. “Please book a flight to NYC reaching Wednesday for me, darling” he ordered.
The plane landed at the JF Kennedy Airport in NYC at 12 noon on Wednesday as scheduled. As Jack came out of the terminal, he suddenly felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. When he turned, he got the shock of his life. It was as if he had seen a ghost, the ghost of his old friend Nathan whom he had for long thought was no more. Jack had been sure that the great sea would have claimed his life on his long voyage.
But the person standing next to him, looking ever so gentle and loving with along lost expression on his face, was none other than his old friend. Both hugged each other for a long time and finally the emotions gave way to tears. Tears of joy and sorrow, tears that wanted to wipe away the years gone by and the hardships, tears that wanted to forget everything and rejoice the meeting of two old friends united by a strange stroke of luck.
“I just had to come. How could I not come to receive a friend who had helped me when I needed it the most in my life?”said Father Paul. Both of them exchanged the story of their life’s journey over a cup of coffee at a coffee shop.
They drove into Rochester by late evening. Father Paul arranged for Jack’s stay at the local Winchester Hotel.
Nick was excited to know that Jack had flown over especially to meet them. He was ready to receive him at his office early next day. He called Father Paul too for the meeting. They had a good discussion on the various aspects of the proposal and analyzed all the options. Then they had Lunch. Nick was surprised that Father Paul did not insist on leaving as he usually had lunch only in the church.
The meeting continued after lunch too. Jack handed over the revised estimates and the reports to Nick who promised to revert with the final order at the earliest. They left immediately after the meeting.
It was 10p.m. that night. Jack had already downed five drinks and was getting very emotional.
Father Paul had invited him to dinner. They had just started talking.
“Immediately after you went away…,” began Jack.
“I don’t want to hear anything about that time, if you don’t mind, please.”Father Paul interrupted him. “Tell me about your business, how many boats do you own now?”
“The number of boats doesn’t matter. The times, they are not so good. I really want this order, otherwise we may have to go under. It is very difficult to survive in today’s business environment as there is now stiff competition from China and Korea,” said Jack, shooting straight to the point.
“This one is on me. I will not let you go under, Jack. I will make sure that you get the order but how much more can you go down on the price? You see, this is public money and I have to ensure that the townsfolk get a good deal.” Father Paul assured Jack.
“Let me work it out with my finance guys. I will send you a final offer in two days but that will be my best offer. Usually we do keep something for the very end. Also as this is for you, I will do my very best, but please make sure you close it fast and in our favor,” said Jack.
Father Paul assured him again.
They had a few more drinks and supper. Father Paul then drove Jack to the hotel. Jack took an evening flight out of NYC the next day.
Nick was puzzled. It was so unlike Father Paul. When he learnt that Father Paul had personally driven down to NYC to receive Jack, he had thought that it was probably a coincidence that he was in NYC on the same date that Jack had arrived and had picked him up from the airport as a courtesy. But now, as he came out of Winchester from a late night dinner with a friend, he saw Jack getting out of Father Paul’s car and giving him a long warm hug. It was very unlike Father Paul, very unlike him indeed, thought Nick.
Chapter 5
Year 2005
Four years had passed since Jack had come. Time had passed quickly. The boat order had been given to Jack’s firm. The ferry was likely to be delivered by the end of the year. All the arrangements had been made. The harbor was all spruced up with a special jetty designed to take in the big boat. A new ticketing and freight booking office was also created at the dock; the parking lot was expanded and new gates were installed. Even the road leading to the docks was widened and painted with new signs and zebra crossings. The townsfolk had great expectations from the new ferry. It was like a bride and everyone was waiting to see it at the harbor at the earliest. Then on December 27, it was announced in the
Town Hall that the ferry had set sail from Adelaide, and it would arrive at the harbor on January 20, 2006.
The big day arrived. The whole town gathered at the docks. Suddenly there was a loud shout ‘Ship Ahoy’. All eyes were on the horizon, and then it was there for all to see. A magnificent 120 foot brute of a boat, capable of high speeds, carrying passengers and freight, right across the ocean, in all its majestic glory and splendor.
The entire council, along with the volunteers and senior members of the church, were all present to receive the ship at the docks. As it came in, the military band started playing melodious music on the drums.
It was like a carnival. Everyone was in a festive mood. The ferry gave the people a ray of hope and happiness at the thought that it would generate some income and provide employment, besides making commute easy and convenient.
The ferry tickets were sold out in the first few weeks. Most townsfolk couldn’t resist the temptation of travelling by the big boat across the lake to Toronto, enjoying beer on the deck and taking in the sights the great lake had to offer in all its bounty, silent and supreme in its dignified stillness.
Achooka Borisaka was the last living survivor of the great Red Indian tribe, whose ancestors had long inhabited the shores of Lake Ontario. The tribe had practiced the lost arts, passed on from one generation to another. They were once considered the most powerful and menacing of warriors. Achooka was sitting cross-legged, in deep trance, his mind adrift and totally blank, in order to concentrate, meditate and think of all the possibilities in nature. Nature, with its anomalies and deviations, manifested itself in a variety of ways – epidemics, illness, strange behavior of people, thought patterns and perceptions of individuals and communities.
Some patterns were yet to be manifested, and their impact, if rightly read and judged, could possibly be averted. This gift of perception is what the modern white man never understood and gave names such as ‘coincidence’ and ‘chance’. The slightly more learned called it ‘black magic’.
