Where the River Runs

by Fleur McDonald

  ‘What time did he leave?’ Cal asked, keeping his tone casual so as not to alarm Aria any more than she already was.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ Chelsea answered, her voice tight. ‘It might’ve been four o’clock or a bit later.’

  ‘And it’s after nine now.’

  Chelsea felt a soft little hand slip into hers. ‘Mummy, I’m scared,’ she said.

  ‘I’m a little bit scared too, honey, but I’m sure there’s nothing too much to be worried about. Papa knows this country like the back of his hand so it’s probably something simple. Maybe he’s got a flat tyre on the motorbike and he’s walking home.’ She saw Cal glance at her and knew instantly that wasn’t what he was thinking.

  ‘Has he, uh, shown any tendencies to, um …’ She let the sentence fade in the hope Cal would pick up on her meaning. Aria didn’t need to hear the question. When he didn’t answer, she added, ‘Especially since Mum died?’ Maybe he’d given her the box and, with that done, it was time to end all of his sadness and pain.

  Cal cleared his throat. ‘Not that I know of.’

  Chelsea picked up the two-way mic and put another call out: ‘Tom Taylor, are you on channel?’

  The static hissed back at her.

  Reaching down, Cal flicked the channels over. ‘Call the McKenzies. See if they’ll come out and help us look.’

  ‘Names?’

  ‘Colleen and Hec.’

  Chelsea did as she was asked and waited for a reply.

  ‘Hec here, who’m I talking to?’

  ‘It’s Chelsea Taylor, Hec. My father is missing, and Cal and I are out trying to find him. We were hoping for a few extra vehicles.’

  There was a pause. ‘No worries. I’ll head out now. Colleen will ring around for some more neighbours. Have you got a child with you, Chelsea? Is she out with you?’

  Chelsea’s head snapped back. How did … ?

  ‘It’s a small area,’ Cal said, seeing her reaction.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ she answered, looking at Aria, who was peering through the windscreen.

  ‘Tell Cal to meet Colleen at the ramp going over the main road and she’ll take her home.’ His tone brooked no argument, and all Chelsea felt was relief. There was no way she wanted Aria with them when they found her dad. Even if he only had a broken ankle or had got lost again.

  Cal directed the ute back onto the road.

  ‘I want to stay with you, Mummy,’ Aria said as she registered what was happening.

  ‘I think you’d be better with Colleen, honey. It might take us all night to find Papa and it’s past your bedtime by a long way.’

  Aria looked close to tears.

  ‘Colleen is a beaut lady, Aria,’ said Cal. ‘She’s heard all about you from your Papa and she makes yummy scones and custards. Plus she’s got heaps of grandkids, so she knows what kids like. You’ll have a lot of fun with her.’

  ‘Has she got colouring-in books?’

  ‘I bet she has. Probably with the coolest colouring pencils.’

  ‘You’ll come back and get me, Mummy?’ Aria said with panic in her voice.

  ‘Of course I will! As soon as we find Papa. But, honey, if it’s really late when we find him, it might be better if I let you sleep there and pick you up tomorrow. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ But Aria didn’t sound happy about it.

  By the time they arrived at the ramp, there were five utes there. In the spotlight glow, she could see they were all old grey Toyota traybacks—some had spotlights on the roof and others on the bullbar. There was one with a mattress in the back and instantly Chelsea knew that would be a bed for her dad if he was injured and they had to take him to hospital.

  The four men were in a circle around the bonnet of one of the utes, a map opened out in front of them. It was obvious they were discussing how to stage the search. Just out of the light, a grey-haired woman was leaning against a fence-post, listening to the men talk. As the lights of the ute flashed onto her, Chelsea saw she was holding a black kitten.

  ‘That’s Colleen,’ Cal said, inclining his head towards her.

  ‘Come on, Aria,’ Chelsea said, getting out of the ute and taking her daughter’s hand. ‘Looks like she’s got a special friend for you.’

  After some quick introductions, Colleen handed the kitten to Aria, whose face lit up with wonder. Chelsea gave her a kiss goodbye, then Aria happily got into the car, settled the kitten on her lap and headed off to their homestead.

  Chelsea just looked at the group of men, not sure if she should go over and join them, but the decision was taken out of her hands when Cal called her over.

  ‘You all remember Chelsea,’ Cal introduced her.

  ‘Good to see you again. I’m Hec.’ The tall sandy-haired man held his hand out to her, while the others nodded and smiled at her.

  Somehow she felt accepted, even if she didn’t know everyone’s names.

  ‘Right, Chelsea, can you tell us the last time you saw Tom and what sort of mood he was in?’

  Chelsea ran her hands over her face as she thought about his state of mind. ‘We’d had a nice Christmas Day and I thought he was okay. Peaceful, even. I’d been helping him remember a song on the piano and then he’d given me a box with a heap of Mum’s things in it.’ She paused. ‘He didn’t seem upset or angry. Just matter of fact. I know he said he had some troughs to check but he didn’t say where.’

  The men nodded.

  ‘Okay, well …’ Hec directed two of the men to start at the reserve and work their way back to the homestead.

  ‘Cal, you and Chelsea, I think go from the shearing shed, out to the hills and back down Blind Corner Road, okay? I brought a spotlight—do you want it?’

  ‘Yep, Chelsea can get on the back and use it while I drive,’ Cal answered, going back to the ute and popping the bonnet so he could connect the spotlight.

  ‘Right, and Blake and I’ll do the main road leading back to the house. Everyone got their two-ways on?’

  ‘Sure have.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Make sure you stay in contact. If we haven’t found Tom in the next couple of hours, we’d better ring the police. They can organise the SES then.’

  For the first time, a trickle of fear ran through Chelsea. Despite her original question about Tom’s state of mind, she’d just assumed they’d find him with a broken ankle or a flat tyre. Now she realised it could be a lot more serious. Again, the box jumped into her thoughts. Surely he wouldn’t have given her the box with the thought that it contained all the answers and now he didn’t need to be around anymore? Or even if he hadn’t meant to hurt himself, he could’ve hit a roo, and doing that on a motorbike meant serious injury, if not death.

  ‘Please let him be okay,’ she whispered to herself.

  Cal showed her how to use the spotlight and what to look for. ‘Anything reflective,’ he said. ‘So, look for a light or numberplate. Hopefully he was wearing a high-vis jacket. And make sure you keep an eye on the road too—there might be skid marks off to the side if he’s tried to miss a roo. Anything that you think is weird. You can’t be wrong in these circumstances.’

  Chelsea nodded and climbed up on the back of the ute.

  ‘Make sure you hang on, and if you see something, bang on the roof or yell through the window.’ Cal’s face was as serious as she’d ever seen it, so she nodded her understanding and flicked on the light, turning it from left to right and staring into the distance, desperate to see something.

  ‘Is this the time I bargain with you, God?’ Chelsea asked two hours later, when no one had found any sign of him. ‘If I promise never to leave him again, will you bring him back safely to me, to us?’

  God didn’t answer, and Chelsea clenched her jaw and let her tired arm drop onto the roof of the cab, giving it a small break from holding the light, which had, after two hours of searching, become surprisingly heavy.

  The dust had been flicking up behind the wheels of the ute and swirling around, and she’d learned very quic
kly to keep her mouth shut lest bugs and dust ended up in there.

  ‘Do you want to drive for a little while and have a break?’ Cal called from the open window as he slowed down a little. ‘I’m only driving because I know the country better.’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ she said, frustrated and a little teary. All they’d seen were countless kangaroos and emus, a stray horse and a couple of cars on the road, people who’d been driving home after Christmas Day. Both cars had stopped when Cal had flashed his lights at them and he’d explained the situation. Neither driver had seen anything untoward but had promised to keep an eye out.

  ‘Cal, you on channel?’

  Chelsea recognised the voice as Hec’s and leaned in towards the window to listen.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Can you head towards the old pump house over in Nine Mile Bore’s river?’

  Cal slammed his foot on the brake and Chelsea held on tight until they came to a complete stop. He tumbled out of the vehicle and ran to the front, popping the bonnet and disconnecting the spotlight. He told Chelsea to get in; they’d found Tom.

  Chelsea jumped down and got into the passenger’s seat, her heart pounding. ‘They found him?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, at the old pump house.’

  The drive was fast, and Chelsea was sure they hit every bump in the road. Old Toyotas didn’t ride so smoothly and there was a spring that pressed into her behind with every pot-hole.

  Please let him be okay, she said again, this time silently. I won’t leave him again. I’ll find something to do here. I understand he needs family now. Pause. Please, God.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d prayed. Maybe it was when she was in labour and the drugs hadn’t taken the pain away. Or maybe it was when she finally received the message on her mobile phone, the sobbing message from her father saying her mother had died. Then the next one, yelling, ‘Why haven’t I heard from you? Where are you? How can you not answer?’ And the last one with no emotion: ‘We buried your mum today.’ There had been a long pause before the message disconnected. It was if he’d wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words.

  From then on, she’d left messages, explaining what had happened: ‘Dad, oh God, Dad, I’m sorry. Pick up the phone. Talk to me! I’ve been out of range for three months. On the cruise ship I’ve been working on. I didn’t tell you I was going because I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me. I’ve only just got your messages. Dad!’

  As Cal continued to drive, the voices got louder in her head. She wanted to cover her ears and shake them away.

  ‘Dad, it’s me. Please pick up the phone.’

  ‘Dad, um, I know you don’t want to speak to me, but I’d like to talk to you. Could you please ring me back?’

  ‘It’s Chelsea. In case you’ve forgotten.’

  Finally she’d stopped leaving messages, until Tori had convinced her to go home for Christmas. She had told Chelsea she’d never be content until she’d seen her dad. ‘You’ve both got too many things to sort out, so go and do it. I bet you find your future will fall into place from there.’

  ‘Dad, it’s me, Chelsea. Aria and I are coming for Christmas. I hope that’ll be okay …’

  He’d picked up the phone then. There’d been a silence and heavy breathing as Chelsea’s heart had smashed through her chest with nerves and anxiety. ‘Dad?’

  ‘Yes,’ he’d said. ‘That’ll be okay.’

  Chapter 20

  Lights from five utes shone onto the pump house and Chelsea could see that one of the men was bending over a figure stretched out on the ground. She caught a glimpse of the motorbike nearby and let out a sigh of relief. From where she stood, it looked like an accident rather than anything more sinister.

  ‘We don’t know yet,’ Cal said as if he’d read her mind.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We don’t know what state he’s in yet.’ Negotiating the ute closer and directing the lights towards Tom, he left the engine running and got out. From behind the seat he pulled out a first-aid kit and jogged over with the same urgency that Chelsea felt.

  She wanted to go running in and throw herself over her father, to talk to him and make sure he was okay, but the men had surrounded him and blocked out her view.

  Muttered words filtered through the quiet night. ‘Call the ambulance?’

  ‘Probably quicker to take him in ourselves.’

  ‘… neck or back injuries?’

  ‘Conscious. Tom? Tom, can you hear us? It’s Hec McKenzie.’

  Chelsea couldn’t stop herself now; she ran towards the group and pushed her way through. ‘Dad?’ She drew in a sharp gasp as she saw his injuries.

  His face was bloodied and seemed to have gravel rash down the side, and his foot was at an unnatural angle. His right arm was bleeding as well. Cal grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back.

  ‘Let Hec deal with him first,’ he instructed. ‘He’s a volunteer ambulance officer so he knows what he’s doing.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Leave him to do his job.’ Cal pulled her into a strong hug. ‘He’s going to be fine,’ he said against her hair, ‘but let them be for the moment.’

  Chelsea hadn’t been hugged in so long, she leaned against Cal for a moment, taking strength from his lean body. It felt good to let someone share the weight of responsibility. Then she remembered Cal was her father’s workman and somebody she hardly knew. Backing away from him slowly, she put up her hand as if to ward him off.

  ‘I’ll let them be,’ she said softly and went to stand near the ute, even though she desperately wanted to stay in his arms.

  Within half an hour, Hec had strapped Tom’s ankle and cleaned up his head wounds, and the five men lifted him carefully into one of the ute trays. Putting him on a mattress, which was there for this exact purpose, one man covered him with a blanket. Hec climbed up and sat next to him, holding his wrist to check Tom’s pulse. Chelsea went over and put her hand on her dad’s shoulder.

  ‘Dad? You’ll be okay. We’re taking you to hospital. I don’t know if you can hear me, but hang in there, okay?’

  ‘Righto, let’s go,’ Hec said. ‘Follow us, Cal. We’ll be quicker going like this than calling the ambulance out on Christmas night, which might not even be around. See you at the hospital. I wish I had a green whistle to give to him.’

  ‘Green whistle?’ Chelsea asked.

  ‘It’s a painkiller that ambos are allowed to hand out,’ Cal told her.

  ‘Oh. What about Aria?’

  ‘I’ll call Colleen and let her know what’s going on when we get into mobile range,’ Hec answered. ‘She’s better off staying where she is for the night. I’m sure you won’t be back out here before daylight.’

  Cal took her arm and led her back to the ute.

  As they took off towards town Chelsea looked in the rear-vision mirror and saw the other men loading the motorbike onto the back of another ute.

  ‘Shit! I didn’t thank them,’ she said.

  ‘You can do it another time. They’re not going anywhere.’

  ‘I don’t even know all their names.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I do.’

  They drove in silence, Chelsea keeping her eyes to the front, never straying from the vehicle ahead of them.

  ‘What do you think happened?’ she asked after a while.

  Cal sighed. ‘Bit hard to tell, but I reckon he probably hit a rock and got thrown sideways. Reckon it’s safe to say it wasn’t deliberate though.’

  ‘Do you think he’s broken his ankle?’

  ‘Yeah, and maybe his arm. He was conscious for a very short time, but I think the pain probably knocked him out again. But it’s a good thing he recognised Hec. That shows no brain damage.’

  ‘And you know this how?’

  ‘He said Hec’s name.’

  Her heart had slowed, but the anxiety in her tummy was still there. ‘Are you sure?’

  Cal gave her a sideways glance. ‘Ah, no. Nope, not su
re. I’m trying to make you feel better.’

  An hysterical giggle escaped from Chelsea despite her fear. Folding her hands in her lap, she kept running her right thumb over her left hand, something she used to do before a concert.

  ‘Hey, I know you’re worried about it, but in my limited medical experience, I think he’s going to be okay. Just a bit bashed and bruised and maybe a bit slow for a while.’

  ‘I need to sort everything out with him,’ Chelsea said softly, turning towards Cal. ‘I’m taking a punt here and assuming you’ve heard lots about me that hasn’t been good?’

  Cal shrugged. ‘I try to take people as I find them.’

  ‘Were you a politician in a past life?’

  He laughed, a rich, gravelly sound that reverberated around the cabin. ‘Not that I know of. What do you want me to say? Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Not all of it good. I held Tom’s hand while he cried, answered his “Why hasn’t she come home?” questions. Anyway, what’s the point in rehashing all of this?’

  Pressing her lips together, Chelsea touched his arm. ‘Do you want to know what happened? Why I wasn’t here for her funeral?’

  ‘Only if you want to tell me.’

  Chelsea pinched her nose as tears threatened again. ‘God, I think I’ve cried more since I’ve been home than I have in the last ten years.’ She shook her head. ‘So, I’ll lay everything out bare.

  ‘Five years ago, I was told there weren’t any conductors in Australia who would work with me anymore. I was too hard, too high maintenance, too whatever. I was devastated. Very angry. I spoke to my agent and demanded she get them to change her mind.’ She laughed mirthlessly. ‘Stupid really. If every conductor had the same thought, no one was going to be able to change anyone’s mind.

  ‘Anyway, it was my own fault. I’ve been difficult to get along with ever since I started playing professionally. I put up barriers to people and treated them with no respect. See, I’d always wanted to play what I loved, which wasn’t classical music. I’d been classically trained because that’s what everyone thought I’d be best at, but it wasn’t where my heart was. So I’d get frustrated and annoyed and snap at conductors or other orchestra members.