Just Jack

by Adele Broadbent

  ‘Your father will need blankets too, love,’ Billy said. With a deep breath, Isobel turned and shuffled through the door. ‘Oh, Jack. Everything’s broken.’

  This time, with my boots on, I swept a rough path through the broken glass and preserved fruit for the others to follow. The chaos in the kitchen brought another cry from Isobel.

  A huge pot of stew had tipped off the stove, spilling across the floor. Drawers had jiggled out of place, dumping cutlery, cloths and kitchen knives through the thick, cold stew. Smashed china was strewn across the benches, after jumping out of the cupboards above.

  Isobel bent to pick up a broken piece of hand-painted plate. ‘This was my mother’s.’

  ‘Isobel, we have to hurry,’ I urged again.

  ‘Blankets, sheets — anything you’ve got,’ added Billy.

  She led us into the hall and pointed to a door near the end. We emptied the linen cupboard in minutes and struggled back out to the kitchen. ‘I’m glad you found us, Jack,’ said Billy. ‘These will be a grand help.’

  I smiled for the first time all day. It felt good to be doing something useful. ‘What about food?’ I asked, noticing freshly baked loaves on the bench. They’d danced off the tray they had been cooling on, but luckily hadn’t fallen into the brown sticky mess on the floor.

  ‘Good idea. Grab those, too,’ he said, pointing to apples spilled along the bench. I stuffed the food into a pillowcase and followed them outside.

  ‘Get a move on,’ called the driver. ‘This bloke doesn’t look so good.’

  With Isobel bundled in the front with the driver and Billy and I on the back with Laddie, we finally set off. I stared back at the rubble of the sleeping quarters, amazed I’d been so lucky. My leg throbbed, and the towel I’d tied around it was sticky with blood. But Laddie …

  I closed my eyes, not wanting to see his ghostly face.

  Even where Isobel had wiped off the white dust, he was pale.

  The uneven road jostled the truck, making it difficult to hold on with one hand and steady Laddie with the other. It felt strange travelling the route I took every day to the track, but on the back of a truck. Everything was strange.

  People were dragging furniture and bedding from their houses. Some had already set up tents made from sheets and ropes in their front gardens. The truck slowed even further to avoid children who were trying to catch the chickens roaming free on the road.

  At the racecourse entrance, a man held up his hand. Our driver leaned out his window. ‘We’ve got a man who needs a doctor right quick, and blankets for the hospital.’

  ‘Take him over there.’ The man pointed. ‘They’ll see to him.’

  The racecourse looked strange. Men were carrying injured people on stretchers in all directions. Boxes of hospital equipment were being unloaded from vehicles lined up behind the grandstand. A woman knelt crying next to a man on a stretcher, and a girl struggled to carry a little boy with a gashed leg.

  We drove behind the grandstand, parking beside other vehicles bringing the injured.

  I climbed down to check on Isobel. ‘How is Father?’ she asked, stepping down from the cab. Two men lifted Laddie down onto a proper stretcher. One of them stared at him and shook his head. I just caught Isobel as she fainted.

  ‘Why is it taking so long?’

  ‘I don’t know, Isobel,’ I said for the tenth time. Laddie had been in the operating theatre for ages.

  Spellbound by the racecourse’s transformation, I gazed around. The day before, who would have thought the wooden grandstand would be a hospital?

  A dozen more injured arrived after us, mostly with broken bones and cuts wrapped in bits of clothing.

  Isobel tensed when a man in a white coat emerged from the grandstand and hurried towards us. But he rushed past us to a woman sitting on a crate, and she sobbed into her hands as he spoke to her.

  ‘How’s things?’ said Billy, appearing from out of the crowd.

  ‘We don’t know yet,’ I said.

  He nodded. ‘I found someone who wants to talk to you.’ He waved someone over.

  It was Kenny. I clenched my fists. Before I could say a word, Isobel leapt to her feet. ‘How could you!’ she yelled. ‘How could you run away like that? Father might die!’ She burst into tears, then sank back down on the ground, crying into her handkerchief.

  I struggled to stand, my leg stiff from sitting on the ground.

  Billy grabbed my arm. ‘Hear him out, Jack. We’ve been talking. He told me some things — and what he did today. He feels bad about it.’

  ‘He should,’ I grumbled, glancing at Isobel.

  Billy nodded. ‘Just give him a minute.’

  Kenny came closer.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Isobel,’ he mumbled. There was no sign of his usual smirk. ‘Is Laddie going to be all right?’

  ‘He’s being operated on now,’ I said. ‘I’m surprised you can show your face,’ I muttered.

  ‘I wanted to explain,’ he said. ‘Why I took off. When I saw Laddie lying there, it reminded me of—’

  ‘The building accident?’

  ‘Yes,’ he mumbled. ‘I was telling the truth: it wasn’t my fault. One of the older boys left some bolts out of the scaffolding and a worker fell. I’d had a kip on my lunch break because my little brother was sick, keeping us all awake at night. I woke to find it all blamed on me.’

  ‘Didn’t you tell them the truth?’

  ‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘Over and over. But I was the youngest on the site. No one believed me. Not even my mother. She threw me out. Everything went wrong from there. Then Mr Mac took me in.’

  But not before you were given a beating by the injured man’s mates, I thought. I couldn’t imagine his own mother not believing him. It would have been awful.

  Kenny shook his head. ‘I don’t know why Mac bothered. I don’t think he believed me either.’

  ‘Laddie Baxter?’ called a voice. ‘Are there any relatives of Laddie Baxter?’

  ‘Here!’ I waved. Isobel leapt up again and helped me limp over to the doctor. ‘Is he going to be all right?’

  ‘Are you his son?’ asked the doctor.

  ‘This is his daughter.’

  He smiled down at her. ‘There are many people needing help, and it took us a while to get to him. Your father had broken ribs and was bleeding—’ He stopped as she held her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, miss. You don’t need all the details. Your father is fine. He’ll take a bit of time to come right, but he’s fine.’

  I steadied her, worried she’d faint again. ‘Did you hear that, Isobel? He’s going to be all right!’

  ‘Can I see him?’ she asked.

  The doctor nodded. ‘We’ll be moving him to one of the recovery tents soon. You can see him then.’

  ‘Good news?’ asked Billy from behind us.

  ‘The doctor says he’ll be just fine,’ I said, grinning with relief.

  Then I saw all the other people waiting. A lady with two little boys clinging to her skirt, and an old man turning his hat around and around in his hands as he waited for news. A whole family sat together on the ground hugging one another. I lowered my voice. ‘We’ll be able to see him soon.’

  ‘We’ll wait with you, if you don’t mind,’ said Billy.

  While we waited, Billy dashed over to help a woman whose belongings had burst from a suitcase. He’d helped us so much that day when no one else would. I wondered about his family. I knew his mum had passed away, but he’d never mentioned his father.

  I glanced over at Kenny and thought about what he’d told me. I was still cross that he’d left Laddie, but Billy was right: I could understand a little better. Maybe even why he’d been so awful at Mr Mac’s.

  Isobel’s gaze was glued to the grandstand entrance, so when Laddie was carried out on a stretcher she was the first to spot him.

  ‘Father!’ she cried, springing to her feet. We followed them to a huge, white tent.

  It was full of men on mattresses, stret
chers and hospital beds. On the way inside, Laddie’s blanket slid off. Isobel gasped at the sight of thick, white bandages wrapping his chest. ‘Oh, Father.’ She sank down next to his bed once they found a space.

  A nurse bustled up to us. ‘Come now, we can’t have everyone in here.’

  ‘The doctor said we could see him when he came out,’ I explained.

  ‘Well, he won’t be awake for some time yet, dears,’ she said. She smiled down at Isobel. ‘Why don’t you go home? Your mother must be worried about you.’

  ‘My mother is dead,’ Isobel mumbled.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, dear. So many people have lost someone. It’s a dreadful business. But you can’t stay—’

  ‘No, you don’t understand.’ Isobel scrambled to her feet. ‘My mother died when I was little. Father is all I’ve got, and I won’t leave him!’

  ‘There now, dear,’ the nurse soothed. ‘We’ll find somewhere for you close by. In the meantime you can sit with your father.’

  Isobel knelt down again, staring at Laddie’s face. ‘Thank you,’ I said to the nurse. ‘He really is all she’s got.’

  ‘She’s a determined wee thing, isn’t she?’ she said gently. She pointed to my bandage. ‘Now, let’s have a look at that leg of yours.’

  Isobel was still at Laddie’s side when I returned. My leg felt a little better. The nurse had cut off my torn trouser-leg before cleaning and bandaging the deep cut. I felt foolish with half my trousers missing, but at least it made Isobel smile.

  ‘The nurse told me you can have a bed in a tent nearby,’ I said, ‘so you’ll be close when he wakes up.’ She nodded wearily.

  ‘I have to get back to the stables,’ I said. ‘The horses will need water and feeding.’

  She sprang awake. ‘But I don’t know anyone here. What if Father wakes up?’

  I pushed her hair back from her face. She’d lost the red ribbon somewhere in the day’s chaos. ‘The nurse will be looking out for you, and when Laddie wakes up you can tell him I’m looking after his horses. I’ll be back in the morning.’

  She relaxed a little and turned to Laddie. ‘Yes. Father will be worried about the horses. Promise you’ll come back?’

  ‘Promise. Jockey’s honour.’

  Chapter 21

  I found Billy unloading the trucks that continued to bring blankets and food. Once he’d finished, he ran over. ‘I like the new style.’ He laughed, pointing at my one-legged trousers with the bulging bandage beneath.

  ‘Where’s Kenny?’ I asked. Had I been wrong? Was everything he’d said just another act?

  ‘He’s gone out in one of the ambulances,’ said Billy. ‘There are some people trapped in a nearby cellar and he volunteered.’ He shrugged. ‘Who’d have thought it, eh?’

  Not me, I admitted to myself. ‘I have to be getting back,’ I said. ‘Laddie’s horses will need feeding.’

  ‘What about his daughter?’

  ‘She’s staying with Laddie.’

  Billy nodded. ‘You’ll need a ride, then. That leg will slow you up a bit.’ He whistled to one of the truck drivers. ‘Can you give this injured hero a ride home?’

  ‘I’m no hero,’ I said. ‘You’re the one who got Laddie here.’

  Billy shrugged. ‘Better hurry, or you’ll miss your ride.’

  ‘Thanks, Billy. Thanks for everything.’

  The truck driver dropped me at the end of Laddie’s drive. I found Baldy around the back, staring at the rubble.

  ‘Hello, Baldy,’ I said.

  He whirled around. ‘Jack! You’re all right.’ He gave my arm a squeeze. ‘What happened to your leg? Where is everyone?’ He steadied me as I staggered a little. ‘Here, Jack, come and sit down.’

  Feeling much better with the weight off my leg, I told him everything.

  ‘You’re sure Laddie’s all right?’

  ‘Yes. And Isobel,’ I said. ‘You should have seen her. Refusing to leave Laddie like that.’ I grinned.

  We sat in silence for a while. ‘How’s the head?’

  At first I thought he meant the roof falling in on me. Then I remembered how my day had started. It felt like a lifetime ago. I didn’t have an answer.

  He patted me on the shoulder. ‘It doesn’t matter now, Jack. If it wasn’t for you today, who knows?’

  I changed the subject. ‘Is your mum OK?’

  He nodded. ‘Luckily I wasn’t far from home when the earthquake struck. She’s more upset about her broken china than anything.’

  ‘You can come home with me,’ said Baldy when we’d seen to the horses.

  There had been more tremors while we were feeding them and I’d seen how terrified Copper was. ‘I’d like to stay with the horses, if that’s OK.’

  Without a word, Baldy fetched a rope and blankets from the tack room, and made a shelter in the trees near the yards. ‘The horses are safer out here — and so are you.’

  We ventured nervously into the house and found enough food for a meal. Back in my shelter with the soft light of a stable lantern, we talked of what we’d seen that day. We fell silent at each aftershock. Baldy stayed long after dark, when a glow in the east told us the fire I’d seen the smoke from earlier was still burning.

  ‘I heard someone say the whole of Napier is on fire,’ said Baldy. ‘The earthquake has broken the water pipes in town, so the fire brigade can do nothing but watch it burn.’ We stared in silence at the eerie glow.

  He crawled out of the shelter. ‘You sure you’re all right here alone?’ I nodded, not sure at all.

  ‘I’ll be back in the morning,’ he said.

  True to his word, Baldy met me halfway down Laddie’s drive soon after daybreak. I’d only snatched a couple of hours’ sleep all night. The remaining wall of the sleeping quarters creaked as if ready to fall at any moment, and the horses were unsettled by each shudder of the ground. Baldy caught me mid-yawn. ‘Not much sleep?’

  I answered with another yawn. ‘I’m going to check on Laddie and Isobel.’

  ‘Good lad. I’ll keep an eye on things here.’

  The racecourse was even busier than the previous day. Rows of white tents, stark against the brown turf, had sprung up alongside the grandstand. People bustled from tent to tent. Men unloaded food, boxes and more injured people.

  I found Laddie’s tent soon enough. But where Laddie had been lay a man bandaged from the neck up. I scanned the faces of the other patients. Laddie was gone.

  ‘They moved him this morning,’ said a voice behind me.

  ‘Billy! Where is he?’

  He patted my shoulder. ‘I’ll show you.’

  Laddie nodded weakly when I approached his bed. Isobel was holding his hand, and smiled up at me. By the black smudges under her eyes I could see she hadn’t got much sleep either.

  ‘Hello, Laddie.’

  ‘Hello, lad.’

  Isobel broke the awkward silence. ‘How is your leg, Jack?’

  I waved it off. ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘Thank you, Jack,’ said Laddie. ‘Isobel told me all that you did.’ He looked at his daughter. ‘And what she did.’ My breath caught. Surely he wasn’t cross because she’d helped with Copper? But he smiled. ‘Very brave, don’t you think?’

  ‘I couldn’t have done it without her,’ I said, touching her arm. She blushed.

  ‘We’ve had a talk, Isobel and I,’ said Laddie. ‘It’s taken all this for me to see she’s growing up. A young lady, in fact.’ She squeezed his hand.

  ‘Thank you, Jack,’ he said again, this time a whisper.

  A nurse bustled over. ‘Come on, out you go. You’ll be tiring the patient,’ she fussed. ‘You can stay, dear,’ she patted Isobel’s hand.

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ I said.

  Laddie closed his eyes as I left.

  The rest of the morning flew by. Billy and I helped around the hospital, moving beds, equipment and even patients. At dinner we sat with other volunteers and heard tales told of sheep being swallowed up by crevices appearing in paddo
cks.

  There was talk of miles of land rising up from the ocean, leaving thousands of fish flapping about in the sunshine. There were many who’d been ‘missed by inches’ when buildings fell in. Napier itself was the main topic. I heard over and over how it was in complete ruins, and of the raging fires that were sweeping through it. Hastings wasn’t much better off.

  I hoped Mrs Davis was all right. I would have laid a bet that all her ‘wee pots’ on her porch had toppled over and smashed.

  I thought of home, too. What I’d give to see them, I thought. I wiped my eyes before Billy saw. Somehow I’d have to get a message to Mum and Dad. I wondered if they even knew about the earthquake.

  We spent the rest of the day unpacking more supplies from trucks and helping erect huge, white tents. They quickly filled with whole families; cousins, uncles, aunties, grandparents, all staying together.

  When I finally got to see Laddie and Isobel again, they both looked a lot brighter.

  ‘They’re moving Father to Waipukurau tomorrow,’ said Isobel. ‘They have to make room for more patients, and he’ll be able to recuperate better there.’ Glancing away, she mumbled, ‘And I’m going, too.’

  ‘That’s grand,’ I lied, wondering when I’d ever see her again.

  ‘You’ll stay and help Baldy until I come back?’ asked Laddie.

  ‘Well … um … but what about …?’ Had he forgotten all he’d said before the quake?

  He motioned me closer to his bed. ‘All that went with the earthquake, Jack. Sometimes rules are meant to be broken — especially when something much more important comes from it.’ He smiled up at Isobel.

  ‘But what about me …’ I leaned closer, ‘… growing?’ I whispered.

  Laddie laughed, making him grimace and clutch his chest. After catching his breath, he smiled again. ‘Jack, you’ve got lots of leeway left, and you’re far too talented an apprentice to let go. Forget all I said, lad.’ He winked.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered. Isobel watched us, her smile growing more puzzled.

  Laddie patted her hand. ‘Everything’s going to be just fine.’ We talked for a while, and I told them about the camp that had sprung up on the racecourse and some of the volunteers I’d met.