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Becoming Billy Dare

Page 9

by Kirsty Murray


  Paddy knew he could learn from Jack. And he was willing to work hard. He didn't want to be just an ordinary acrobat. He wanted to be something extraordinary. He wanted to ride into the big top and hear the audience gasp, to hear the sharp intake of their breath as he thrilled them with his skill and daring.

  When he'd finished drawing water he crossed over to the paddock where the horses were grazing. He stood watching for a long time before a young dappled grey mare approached him. Paddy smiled. Keeping his gaze down, he cautiously stroked her neck and flank, imagining what it would be like to ride her. When she bent her head and nuzzled him, he whispered into her ear. ‘One day soon, Tattoo, you and me, we'll show that Jack Ace just what daring really means.’

  15

  The wild child

  They travelled into the Dandenong Ranges, where the tracks grew winding and narrow and giant tree ferns spread their fronds across the roadway. The air smelt damp and sweet and the forests echoed with strange bird cries. Paddy looked around him in wonder. Every twist in the road revealed a new vision of lush, damp rainforest. The sun filtered through the leaves of tall gums and dappled everything with shifting light. Flocks of coloured parrots darted in and out of the shadowy forest, swooping low over the caravan of wagons. Paddy could almost imagine fairy folk living in the folds of the gullies and beneath the spreading tree-ferns.

  The circus never stopped for more than a night or two in any of the small mountain towns and at every stop, shearers and shepherds, farmers and timber-cutters emerged out of the forests to enquire about tickets for the evening show. Paddy was woken hours before dawn to help load up the wagons by torchlight, and the circus would take to the road again as soon as the day began to unfold. After Healesville, they travelled over the Black Spur and the air grew sharp and icy.

  At a small town called Marysville, the circus set up camp on a wide field beside a swift-flowing river. Paddy was carting water up to the kitchen tent on the second morning of their stay when he noticed a ragged man dragging a small child towards the big top. The child was resisting every step, digging its heels into the mud to slow their progress. The child had a mane of long, tangled, black hair and its clothes were so raggedy it was hard to tell if it was a boy or a girl.

  Paddy saw Harry Sears and Jack Ace look up from their mugs of billy tea as the man and child approached. The conversation between Harry and the man quickly grew heated. When the man flicked open the saddlebag he carried and pointed at its contents, Harry put down his mug and called out for Ma Sears to join them. Paddy followed, curious as to what the saddlebag held. He peered over Ma Sears' shoulder. Inside, nestled in the folds of a worn old blanket, lay a tiny, naked, newborn baby.

  Ma Sears shook her head and drew the blanket over the baby, then turned to look at the older child, pushing the black hair away from its face. It glared back furiously with the deepest blue eyes that Paddy had ever seen.

  ‘Underfed and filthy,’ said Ma Sears, disapprovingly.

  ‘Born wiry, that one,’ said the father. ‘Garn, Vi. Show the folk your monkey trick.’

  He smacked the girl on the bottom and she scrambled up the nearest tree. Paddy couldn't figure out how she got a grip on the smooth, silvery bark, but in a minute she was at the first fork, twenty feet above them.

  ‘See, she's limber enough. Only six years old and already she's a little monkey. The babby will be like her one day and you can have the pair for six pounds,’ said the man.

  ‘I'll give you four pound for the child but we can't take the baby,’ said Harry Sears, after a hurried consultation with his wife.

  The father looked stricken. ‘But I can't keep the babby,’ he cried. ‘My wife, she died having this one. I can't keep either of them. I'm a timber-cutter away in the forest for days at a time. You can have ‘em both for two quid.’

  ‘Look, mate, I'll make it five pounds for the girl. You can give the money to someone and they might take the baby. We'll take the girl on as an apprentice. Train her well, give her a profession. But the baby's no good to us.’

  The man flipped the saddlebag shut and sighed.

  ‘Violet,’ he called, looking up the tree. ‘Get down here.’

  At first the girl didn't move. She stayed in the fork of the tree, hugging the trunk.

  ‘Violet!!’ her father barked.

  Reluctantly, the little girl shinnied down the tree and stood beside her father.

  'this bloke and his lady, they run this circus, see. You're gunna stop with them now, learn how to do some more tricks. You'll be a good girl and do like you're told. Orright?’

  The girl said nothing. She glared at everyone, including Paddy. He stepped back, startled by the ferocity of her gaze.

  ‘Here, Paddy,’ called Harry Sears. ‘You reckon you've got some book-learning. You can draw up the papers.’

  Ma Sears dictated the terms of the apprenticeship and Paddy wrote it down in his best hand. Then the father put his mark at the bottom of the paper and took the five-pound note. He didn't even turn to wave goodbye to his daughter. The little girl sat huddled in a corner of the tent, her arms wrapped around her knees.

  ‘She's in a state,’ said Ma Sears shaking her head. ‘Crawling with nits. Her scalp's got infected too. Heat some water up, Paddy.’

  The girl didn't resist as Ma Sears sat her on a bench and cut all her hair off, but a trail of tears ran down her face, leaving white streaks on her dirty grey cheeks. Paddy watched her out of the corner of his eye as he went back and forward from the fire with buckets of warm water.

  The girl let out a blood-curdling scream as Ma Sears wrestled her into the tin washtub. She thrashed about like a wild thing, writhing in the sudsy water. Suddenly, Ma Sears lost her grip, the tub was upturned and the small girl bolted into the forest.

  ‘Paddy, after her!’ called Ma Sears.

  Paddy ran after the naked child. He caught a fleeting glimpse of her burrowing into the dense undergrowth but when he reached the spot, she was nowhere to be found. He stopped, turned his head to one side and listened to the hushed bush.

  It started to snow. Flakes fell like angel dust, landing on the spreading fronds of the tree-ferns. Paddy strained to see or hear any clue that would lead him to the girl. The snow started to fall thick and fast. A muffled sob caught his ear.

  Paddy lifted a frond of giant tree-fern. The little girl was huddled against the hairy trunk, shivering. With her shaved head and her pale naked limbs, she looked like a lost elf. Paddy took off his coat and slipped it around her shoulders.

  ‘C'mon now,’ he said gently. ‘C'mon out. It's not so bad.’

  The little girl began to cry, her whole body shuddering as she wept.

  ‘I want my mama,’ she sobbed.

  Paddy crouched down beside her under the tree-fern and watched the snow falling.

  ‘I miss my mam too,’ said Paddy. ‘She's an angel in heaven, like your mama. Maybe they're up there right now, having a chat together and a nice cup of tea. Maybe your mama is saying to my mam how you ought to go back to the circus like your da wanted you to. And my mam is saying, sure that's a grand idea because her boy – that's me, Paddy – she's telling your mama how her boy will watch out for you.’

  The little girl looked up at him and once again, Paddy was startled by the intensity of her blue eyes.

  ‘Violet,’ he said softly. ‘C'mon back. I promise it will be all right.’

  Without taking her eyes off his face, Violet slipped her hand into his and together they walked through the snowy forest.

  ‘You were quick enough chasing the girl,’ said Harry Sears that evening. ‘Reckon you can take over from Jimmy, bringing up the rear of the caravan from here on in. If one of the horses wanders away from the cavalcade, you chase it as fast as you can, bring it back to the wagons.’

  Next morning, as soon as the circus gear was loaded, Paddy climbed onto the back of the pole wagon, the last wagon in the procession. Violet scrambled up beside him. She wore a little red knitted cap that Ma
Sears had given her to cover her bald head, and a baggy shift that one of the Sears girls had outgrown. She settled herself down amongst the canvas and tent poles as if it was where she belonged.

  Paddy didn't mind her company on the first day but after a few days, everyone in the troupe started calling Violet ‘Paddy's shadow’. Every time he looked around she'd be somewhere close behind, watching him intently. Paddy couldn't even disappear for five minutes without her racing around the circus camp, shouting out his name.

  When the circus set out again, Violet was settled in amongst the canvas and tent poles before dawn.

  ‘Now, Violet, you don't want to be riding up alongside me every day.’

  ‘Yes I do,’ she said.

  ‘No, you want to ride with May and Flora up the front. That's where the other little girls go.’

  ‘No, I have to stay with you,’ said Violet solemnly. ‘Our mams want it.’

  Paddy sighed and climbed into the wagon. Violet snuggled down beside him, frowning with concentration as they both watched the horses following behind. Before long, Tattoo, the dappled grey mare that was his favourite, began to lag behind. When they rounded a corner, she disappeared from view.

  ‘Now, no mucking about while I'm gone,’ he said to Violet, as he leapt down from the back of the moving wagon. Violet nodded obediendy. When he glanced back over his shoulder, she was watching him earnestly. Paddy smiled. Even if she was annoying, it wasn't so bad having her along.

  Paddy ran barefooted across the stubbly ground. It didn't take long to catch up with Tattoo but he didn't hurry to join the cavalcade. When he was sure they'd fallen a long way behind, he led her into a nearby field, grabbed a handful of mane, and swung himself up onto her back. They rode around the paddock and then back along the dusty yellow road at a slow trot. As soon as the circus came in sight, Paddy slid to the ground, took a short length of rope, threaded it through Tattoo's bridle and then jogged after the last wagon.

  Violet was cross with Paddy for taking so long, and from then on she kept a sharp eye out for the horses, anxious that Paddy should catch them quickly.

  The circus zigzagged across the colony, following a meandering path north to the border, and Harry Sears complained about the trade at every small town. Times were tough everywhere and Paddy could tell by the look of folk that they had nothing much to spare.

  Between towns, Harry and the other men went out hunting. Paddy would help Ma Sears skin a brace of rabbits or however many possums they had managed to catch. The first time they brought back a wallaby, he turned the carcass over and stared at its belly, wondering where to sink the knife. Suddenly, he jumped back.

  ‘Ma, I think it's still alive. Its belly, it's moving like.’

  She ran her hand over the wallaby. ‘there's a little surprise come with this one,’ she said. She slipped her hand into the pouch of the wallaby and scooped out a tiny joey. ‘Here, hold it close to you, Paddy. It needs the warmth. They make lovely little pets, these joeys.’

  All the circus kids came crowding into the kitchen tent, as if they knew by instinct that there was something to see. They jostled each other, each demanding a turn at holding the animal, but Ma swatted them away like flies.

  ‘It's Paddy what spotted it first.’

  ‘But isn't it my turn to have a pet?’ asked Joe, the eldest Sears. ‘Besides, Paddy won't be able to take care of it. He's gotta chase the ponies. That wallaby needs to get carried around all day till it's bigger. Someone's gotta keep it warm and all.’

  Ma Sears looked at Paddy and nodded her head. ‘Sorry, Paddy. Joe's right. But you can't have it neither, Joe. We need one of the little kids who ain't so busy with other work to mind it.’

  Paddy looked down at the little bundle. He wanted fiercely to keep it for his own. He glanced across at the crowd of smaller children. Standing at the edge of the group was Violet. Her hair was starting to grow back now, a dark fuzz of spiky black.

  ‘How about Violet?’ asked Paddy.

  Ma Sears smiled. ‘that's an idea. Come here, Vi.’

  Paddy knelt down beside Violet and showed her the tiny creature.

  ‘What do you want to call it?’ asked Paddy. ‘You can give it a name.’

  ‘I fink I'll call it Sonny,’ said Violet. ‘My mama, she had a baby called Sonny.’

  Ma Sears took a length of old pudding-cloth and made a sling which she tied around Violet's neck. She sent one of the other children to bring her a piece of woollen blanket and when the sling was lined with the wool, she gestured for Paddy to come close. Paddy slipped the baby wallaby into the sling and Violet's eyes grew wide. She giggled as the joey nuzzled against her chest until only one dark ear protruded from the sling.

  Violet stopped complaining about how long it took Paddy to catch the horses. He could return after hours away to find her perfectly happy, chatting to the baby wallaby as if it understood all her prattle. It gave Paddy the chance to spend whole mornings alone with Tattoo without worrying about Violet fretting. He kept just out of view of the circus wagons, herding the other horses ahead as he trailed the rear of the troupe.

  In the weeks that followed, Paddy and Tattoo formed a special bond. Of all the circus horses, Tattoo was the most patient and the quickest to respond to his instruction. It was almost as if she knew what he needed to learn. As the dry spring merged with the hot summer months, Paddy learnt to ride as if he and Tattoo were one and the same, a single creature, part-horse, part-boy.

  One morning, as Paddy leapt down from the pole wagon, Violet called after him.

  ‘What?’ shouted Paddy. Violet was leaning out of the back of the wagon waving to him frantically. He ran back and jumped up on the step.

  ‘Sonny says, you be careful. Sonny says we gotta watch out for each other, the way our mams said.’

  Paddy groaned with annoyance. The horses were falling further behind. ‘Vi, I have to run,’ he said.

  As he pulled away from her, Violet's sleeve slid up and Paddy noticed a long purple bruise on the inside of her arm. He almost stopped to ask how she had got it but Tattoo had already disappeared from sight and there was no time to lose.

  ‘Member,’ called Violet after him. ‘Me and Sonny is watching out for you!’

  With a flash of guilt, Paddy realised he hadn't been watching out for Violet. She had become exactly like his shadow, a familiar presence behind him that he paid no attention to. Why should he feel guilty? It wasn't as if Violet was the wild child he'd led out of the forest any more. She had Sonny to play with and Ma Sears to feed her. She was used to the ways of the circus. She didn't really need Paddy any more. Or did she?

  16

  Stealing Violet

  Violet had a natural gift as an acrobat. Jack Ace or Coo-Chee could show her a trick, and inside three attempts she'd have perfected the move. Less than a fortnight after joining the circus, she could perform cartwheels, handstands and forward dives with ease. Harry Sears reckoned the money he'd handed over for Violet was the best five quid he'd ever spent.

  Paddy didn't often make it to the morning training session, as the work of the camp kept him so busy. When he did, Jack Ace treated him with a grudging respect. Paddy was growing stronger by the day and since joining the circus had grown taller than Jack. Sometimes he would act as a base while the smaller children scrambled up his body and balanced on his shoulders.

  One morning, when they were camped on the banks of a winding creek just over the border of New South Wales, Jack Ace called out to Paddy to help him rig some ropes and pulleys between two gum trees. Jack was never his best in the mornings, and this morning, after drinking late into the night, his eyes were puffy.

  ‘We're gunna teach that shadow of yours a few new tricks,’ said Jack.

  Following Jack's instructions, Paddy climbed up the tree and tied a seaman's knot to ensure the contraption held fast.

  Jack led Violet over to where the pulley was suspended and tied a rope tightly around her waist. Violet wriggled uncomfortably, tugging at t
he rope.

  ‘Here, let me tie it again,’ said Paddy, stepping forward.

  ‘No,’ barked Jack. ‘She's right. You take the other end. I need you to keep it taut so she don't fall.’

  In one swift move, he hoisted Violet into the air and onto his shoulders, then took firm hold of her ankles.

  ‘Now, Vi,’ said Jack, ‘You gotta do just like you do on the mats. Just like you do for Coo-Chee. A forward roll but straight off my shoulders.’

  Violet's face grew pale. ‘Don't want to,’ she said.

  ‘C'mon now, you'd do it for Coo-Chee, so you can do it for me. Take my hands.’

  He let go of her ankles and put his arms up for her to catch hold of his hands, but Violet was too quick for him. The moment he loosened his grip, she leapt forward into the air. Paddy braced himself and pulled hard on the rope to stop her falling. Violet dangled in mid-air, a look of surprise on her face.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ shouted Jack, slapping the back of her legs and taking hold of her ankles again. ‘Now you see, Paddy has you, so you're not gunna hit the ground. Give her a bit of slack this time, so the rope goes with her when she turns.’

  Violet looked at Paddy nervously. ‘You can do it, Violet,’ he said. ‘I'm watching out for you.’

  A moment later she dived forward, turning a perfect full somersault in mid-air and then spreading her arms wide, as if she were a bird about to take flight. Jack grabbed her legs again and put her on his shoulders once more. Violet winced as he gripped her calves tightly.

  ‘There's no call for you to be so rough with her,’ said Paddy.

  ‘You keep out of this. She won't learn no other way.’

  ‘She'll learn faster if you don't bully her,’ said Paddy.

  Jack lifted Violet off his shoulders and set her on the ground. He walked over to Paddy and stood menacingly close.

 

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