Becoming Billy Dare

by Kirsty Murray

  ‘Don't you go telling me my business. You don't know bull about this caper,’ he said, his voice thick with suppressed rage. ‘Get Coo-chee. He can handle the mechanic. I don't want you near this kid while I'm training. You put her right off.’

  Paddy dropped the rope and stepped away. ‘And do yourself a favour, keep out of my sight,’ shouted Jack.

  ‘You hurt Vi, and you'll have me to answer to,’ said Paddy.

  Jack Ace looked Paddy up and down with undisguised contempt. Then he laughed. Paddy clenched his fists by his side.

  ‘I mean it,’ said Paddy. But Jack was already walking away from him, back to where Violet stood waiting.

  Paddy was bucketing water out of the river when he heard Violet's screams echo across the campsite. He dropped the water can and ran to the big top. Violet was scrambling up the bleachers, trying to cover her head with her arms, as Jack Ace pursued her with his riding crop. Jack caught her by the ankle and pulled her towards him, beating her around the head and body, dragging her down the bleachers and throwing her into the sawdust. For a moment, everyone in the tent stood frozen as Jack Ace drew back his boot and kicked Violet hard in the stomach.

  Paddy didn't stop to think. He was beside Violet in a moment and punched Jack Ace in the jaw with a powerful uppercut that sent the man sprawling.

  Violet lay whimpering in the sawdust. Paddy knelt down beside her but she kept her eyes shut and folded her arms across her chest. There were long red welts swelling up across her arms where the riding crop had cut her flesh.

  ‘Vi, are you all right?’ he asked.

  Before Violet could answer, Jack Ace staggered to his feet and grabbed Paddy by the back of his shirt. The sun-worn fabric tore in his rough grip and as Paddy spun around, Jack punched him hard in the face. The blow caught Paddy on the eyebrow and the skin instantly split open. Blood trickled into his eye and momentarily blinded him. A second blow in the side of his head nearly knocked him off his feet, but he caught his balance and charged, head down. This time, Jack was ready for him. Paddy might have grown taller than Jack, but the strength of the man astonished him. Jack caught Paddy by the throat and with his other hand started pummelling him, driving him into the sawdust. Suddenly, Harry Sears was there, pulling them apart and dragging Jack away.

  The two men started arguing while Paddy sat with his head in his hands, trying to stem the flow of blood from his face wounds with a piece of torn shirt.

  Harry Sears strode over to him. ‘What the hell do you think you're doing, interfering with the training?’ he shouted.

  ‘He wasn't training her,’ said Paddy angrily, his mouth full of blood. ‘He was beating her! She's only a little girl.’

  Jack Ace scowled at Paddy. He stepped towards him, fists clenched, but Harry Sears pushed him away.

  ‘This is a circus, not a bloody boxing outfit. Leave it, Jack.’

  He grabbed Paddy by the arm and hauled him to his feet. ‘Get yourself over to Ma Sears and she'll fix up your wounds. And keep out of the tent while the little kids are working.’ Then Harry picked up Violet. She was bleeding from the mouth and her eyes were half shut.

  ‘Get on with it, Jack,’ he called over his shoulder.

  Paddy staggered to the tent opening. The ground swayed uneasily beneath him.

  Ma Sears sat Paddy on an upturned crate and dabbed iodine on his split lip and brow.

  ‘You're lucky you didn't lose your teeth,’ she said, shaking her head with disapproval. ‘You steer clear of that Jack. You've put him offside good and proper now.’

  ‘I don't care,’ said Paddy moodily. ‘I should have punched him square in the nose.’

  ‘Now you stop that talk. You forget about it. Jack will too. Give him a few weeks. You're a good boy, Paddy. And I've been watching how you've been with the horses. You'll be in the ring soon enough and Jack Ace will have some serious competition then, so don't you go making a rod for your own back. You'll be needing his help when you're ready for the ring.’

  ‘But Violet…’

  ‘Violet's none of your business. She's got to learn. I know, sometimes Jack can be a bit rough but he'll ease off when Violet starts working the way he knows she can. She'll be a fine little performer one day and we'll have Jack to thank for it.’

  Paddy didn't respond. The thought of thanking Jack Ace for anything made him want to throw up.

  That evening, while the others sat around the campfire telling ghost stories, Paddy wandered away and stood listening to the crack of dry timber falling in the nearby forest. A dusky red moon rose up over the bush. Paddy looked across to find Violet standing near him in the half-light.

  ‘Oh, Violet. You all right now?’ he asked.

  She touched her belly with the tips of her fingers. ‘Still sore,’ she said.

  Paddy knelt down beside her and rested one hand on her shoulder. ‘You've got to mind Jack Ace. You've got to do as he says, mind what he tells you, so he doesn't go losing his temper with you.’

  ‘But you'll save me if he does, won't you?’

  Paddy ran one hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He had been dreading this conversation. ‘I can't stay around to watch out for you every minute of the day, Vi. I can't be with you every time you have to train with Jack. Today was a bad day but if you work hard, it won't be like that all the time.’

  Even as Paddy said it, he shivered at the thought of what Jack might do to Violet next time she drew his wrath.

  ‘He hurts me all the time,’ said Violet in a small, sad voice. She pulled up her sleeves and the hem of her skirt and pointed to the patterning of bruises on her arms and legs.

  ‘Sweet Jesus,’ he said, stricken. He led her back towards the fire and they sat together, a short distance away from the others, just outside the ring of firelight.

  Violet put her thumb in her mouth and leant her head against Paddy's shoulder.

  ‘I don't know what to do, Vi,’ said Paddy.

  Violet giggled. ‘Don't be silly,’ she said. ‘You always know what to do.’

  Every muscle in Paddy's body was aching from the pummelling Jack had given him. His lips felt fat and swollen and one eye was ringed with throbbing bruises. He felt utterly defeated. His dreams of being a circus daredevil were disintegrating around him and all the excitement of the circus had drained away, but when Violet smiled up at him, he understood what he had to do.

  Later that night, when the campfires had burnt down and the last of the circus folk had either gone into the big tent to bed down on the bleachers or rolled up in their swag to sleep by the fire, Paddy tiptoed over to the wagon where the Sears children slept. Violet always lay on the edge, away from the other children. Paddy squatted under the big wheels, listening until he was certain the rhythms of the children's breathing were settled in sleep. Then he reached into the wagon and slipped a hand over Violet's mouth, to stop her squealing. Immediately, Violet grabbed his wrist and leapt out of the wagon, slipping her arms around his neck and clinging to him.

  ‘Shhh, there you go,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Don't you be making a fuss now. We've got to be like two possums, and scurry out of here quiet-like.’

  Paddy pulled out what bedding of Violet's he could remove without waking the other children and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then he realised she had Sonny slung across her chest.

  ‘You can't bring Sonny with you,’ said Paddy. ‘He's too big for you to carry.’

  Violet stared at him in dismay.

  ‘Oh all right,’ he said, trying to mask his irritation. ‘Give him to me.’ He scooped up Sonny and tied the knot tight around his neck.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Violet.

  ‘A safe place. I'm not sure where yet. But when I see it, I'll know we're there.’

  The moon was high and white as they turned onto the road. Paddy hesitated for a moment. If they headed north, the circus would quickly overtake them. They headed south to Albury.

  As the moon sank low in the sky and dawn drew closer, Vi
olet began to drag her feet and complain that her tummy hurt. They hadn't covered much distance and Paddy dreaded the daylight. Harry was sure to send a rider to look for Violet. He wouldn't let go of his five-pound investment easily. Paddy led Violet off the road into some thick bush and they made a little nest for themselves amongst the roots of a giant gum. He eased the joey's sling off and handed it to Violet. She fell asleep almost immediately, curling herself around Sonny, but Paddy lay awake, his thoughts churning. He stared down at Violet, sleeping quietly beside him. What had he landed himself with? What was he going to do with a six-year-old girl? What would happen if Harry Sears and Jack Ace caught up with them?

  In the morning, he woke to the sound of horses galloping south. He knew the sound of each of the circus animals. Someone was riding Tattoo and another rider was on the white mare, Elsie.

  ‘Violet,’ he said. ‘Wake up. We have to go.’

  ‘Where?’ she asked sleepily, stretching like a cat. The raised welts on her arms were dark today, like tiger stripes across her fair skin. Paddy stared at the markings.

  ‘A long, long way from here,’ he replied.

  Overhead, a flock of sulphur-crested cockatoos took flight. Paddy pulled Violet to her feet and led her deeper into the bush. They headed west, casting long shadows into the heart of the wilderness.

  17

  Keeping faith

  They walked most of the day. Violet didn't complain, but every hour or so she would take Paddy's hand. Paddy didn't want to hold her hand. He was busy trying to clear a path through the bush, knowing they had to find their way back to a road before darkness fell, and he already had the burden of Sonny and the sling to contend with. The only consolation was that he didn't have to worry about Violet getting lost. She stayed so close to him that it was hard to get a good swing at the dense undergrowth without knocking her off her feet.

  Late in the afternoon, they sat on a fallen branch and shared the last of the bread and salt beef that Paddy had taken from the kitchen tent. Sonny poked his head out from inside the sling and Violet fed him some crumbled bread from the tips of her fingers.

  ‘Can I take him back, just for a little while?’ she asked.

  Paddy was glad to unburden himself of the wallaby.

  When they'd finished the last of the water in Paddy's water bottle, she asked ‘Are we lost?’

  Paddy looked about him. ‘Lost? No, we're just making sure that Jack Ace doesn't catch up with us.’

  ‘Good,’ said Violet. ‘My dad told me never go walking in the bush alone, ‘cause if you get lost you'll get dead real quick.’

  Paddy stared down at Violet. She had taken off her red knitted cap and was turning it over and over in her hands. Her short, curly black hair was full of bits of twigs and leaves and there were scratches on her cheeks. He knew she was afraid, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would comfort her and not be a lie. He turned away and swung his stick harder at the long tangle of grass and bracken.

  Suddenly, Violet let out a cry of alarm. ‘Sonny!’

  Paddy saw the small wallaby bounding into the scrub and groaned. Violet held up the empty sling. ‘He jumped out. Quick! He's getting lost!’ She bolted off in the direction the wallaby had taken, calling out to Sonny frantically. By the time Paddy caught up with her, she was lying on the ground weeping. The joey was nowhere in sight.

  ‘Never mind, Violet,’ he said, exasperated. ‘Sonny will be all right. This is his home.’

  Violet sat up.

  ‘And we'll be home soon too. A new home,’ she said, solemnly.

  Paddy shivered. It was unnatural how much she trusted him.

  They went on, clambering over fallen branches and when the bush grew too dense, crawling through a tangle of yellow grass and scrub. Violet lost her cap and started to cry again.

  Paddy grimly dragged her onwards. If they could just get to the banks of the Murray before dark, then they'd have water to put in the billy.

  Suddenly, Violet tugged her hand free and dashed into the bush.

  ‘Violet!’ shouted Paddy. But she was back in a moment, grinning. In her hand was the red knitted cap.

  ‘It was just over there, on that branch,’ she said. She pulled the little red cap on tightly. Paddy looked into the impenetrable bush, disbelievingly. They had come full circle.

  The afternoon gold quickly turned to black and though the sky was bright with stars, there was still no moon to light their way. Finally, Paddy knew he had to stop. The thick trunk of a white gum stood out. He took Violet by the hand and led her over to the tree.

  Paddy unrolled their swags and Violet pulled the ragged blue blanket up so it covered her completely. She was asleep in a moment. Paddy envied the ease with which she slipped into dreams.

  The moon rose copper-red through the gums, and the stars faded. He watched the light play between the leaves, strange alien foliage that drooped downwards. He thought of the grey granite of the Burren, bleak and beautiful, and the summer afternoons when he had run wild across the landscape, eating his fill of blackberries, chewing on wild grass, and drinking from wells and streams. In the evenings, there were always the lights of the cottages to guide him home.

  They had walked all day without seeing so much as a bark hut, and Paddy knew it was easy to travel for days in this vast landscape without seeing a living soul. He looked down at Violet. Her forehead shone white in the moonlight beneath a tangle of dark curls. He sighed and lay down on the ground beside her.

  Paddy woke with Violet's arms wrapped tight around his neck. During the night, she'd nuzzled in close, like a baby possum. He pulled her arms away and sat up. It was early morning and a mist was drifting between the trees. They had to be near water. He shook Violet awake and set off into the mist. They didn't speak. Their mouths were dry with thirst. Paddy stood very still, one hand on Violet's shoulder, and listened. Very faintly, he heard the splash of a creature at the water's edge. With a whoop, they both ran towards the sound.

  Paddy stepped down into the brown, muddy water and filled the billy from the surface layer. He offered the can to Violet and she drank thirstily.

  Paddy smelt smoke well before he saw the fire. ‘Violet, follow me!’ he said. He scrambled across the twisting roots of the river gums, trying to see through the morning mist. He couldn't hear voices, but the smoke had the distinctive fragrance of damper mingling with the scent of burning gum leaves and the moist river air. Then he spotted a flicker of firelight on the riverbend ahead.

  ‘Ahoy there!’ called Paddy,

  Violet cupped her hands around her mouth and cried out in a high, shrill voice, ‘Coo-ee! Coo-ee!’

  ‘That's what you call when you've been lost and then you're gunna be found,’ she said importantly. ‘You call coo-ee.’

  Paddy laughed and cupped his hands too, to send cries echoing across the water.

  A moment later, they heard an answering cry. A man stepped out from amidst the river gums and waved at them with both arms. Half an hour later, Paddy and Violet were sitting around a campfire, each with their hands cupped around a mug of sweet black tea. Jim and Tom listened to Paddy with interest as he told them how he and Violet had run away from the circus. Violet squatted beside him, drawing pictures in the dust with a stick.

  ‘You shouldn't have taken the little girl with you, boy,’ said Tom. ‘It's hard times all over. At least she had a bed and some tucker and a woman to care for her.’

  ‘But they weren't taking proper care of her!’

  ‘And you reckon you can?’

  Paddy fell silent.

  ‘Our mams want us to stick together,’ said Violet. ‘I have to stay with Paddy.’

  ‘You kiddies cousins or something?’

  ‘Something like that,’ answered Paddy darkly. ‘C'mon, Violet,’ he said, hauling Violet to her feet. ‘We better be moving on.’

  ‘Steady on there, boy,’ said Jim. ‘You don't want to go wandering off into the bush and get yourselves lost again. We're heading down to Guny
ah Station. Why don't you two tag along? They're starting the shearing soon and they'll be needing a tarboy. You can have a word with old man Gordon, the station manager. He might have an idea of where the little tacker can find a home.’

  Paddy opened his mouth to reply and then hesitated. ‘You catching flies?’ asked Jim, laughing at Paddy's expression.

  Violet laughed too. Even though she had never questioned him, not even when Sonny ran away, Paddy could see the relief in her face now they were out of the bush and in the company of other people. Violet looked from the shearers to Paddy, waiting anxiously for his response.

  ‘I'll be glad of the work,’ said Paddy.

  The men packed up camp, doused the coals of the fire and hitched their swags across their shoulders. The sun rose bright and hot as they followed the track south-west. Soon the scrub thinned and opened out into wide, flat paddocks. They rounded a bend in the road and everyone stopped, gazing at the wide paddock to their left.

  ‘Blimey,’ said Tom. ‘What a bloody mess.’

  The soil was dry and dusty, the ground riven with holes and every few feet, rabbit carcasses lay limp and twisted, their bodies shrunken in the sunlight.

  Violet went up to the fence and stared at the carcasses with a blank expression.

  ‘Here, come away from there, Vi,’ said Paddy, taking her hand and drawing her back. ‘Don't look.’

  ‘The rabbits, the drought, the squatters, and those crooked bankers down Melbourne way. The whole bloody country's going to the dogs,’ said Tom, shaking his head in disgust. ‘It's buggered.’

  ‘You should have gone off with old Bill Lane,’ said Jim. ‘Gone off to Paraguay and made a new Australia.’

  ‘Shut up, will ya,’ growled Tom. ‘I would have gone with him, if the missus would have come.’

  ‘Where's Paraguay?’ asked Paddy.

  ‘South America,’ said Tom. ‘William Lane, he was a great bloke. Fought real hard for the shearers' union up Queensland way. When the government and the pastoralists got together and broke the back of our strike, well, Lane reckoned the country was buggered. Got a shipload of shearers and their families and his mates and set off for South America.’