A Prayer for Blue Delaney (17 page)
The dust billowed up around the car as Colm careered along the dirt track. How could he have even contemplated running all the way back to Tara Downs? He gripped the steering wheel so that his knuckles glowed white and willed the miles to pass away beneath the car. Every time they hit a bump Bill would groan, but at least that meant he was still alive.
When they drove across a dry creek bed, it felt as if Tin Annie was going to shake apart completely. She struggled up the rise, shuddered and stalled. Colm tried to start her up again, desperately pressing the accelerator hard to the floor. Even as his foot pushed to the floor, he knew it was a mistake. The old ute died completely.
They were just at the crest of the rise, and Tara Downs homestead was in view, but there was still at least a mile to go. He tried to start the car again and again, but it was no good. There was a singing in his ears and a tightness in his chest, like a vice around his heart. He would have to go on by foot and leave Bill and Rusty in the car.
He looked at Bill lying crookedly on the seat and wished the old man was conscious and could tell him what to do next. Bill’s face was ashen, the pain etched into every feature. Colm went round the back, lifted Rusty into his arms and placed her on the front seat beside Bill. Then he began the long run to Tara Downs.
Colm’s heart pounded and his temples throbbed, but the ground sped away beneath him. He took the steps up to the verandah two at a time and banged on the door. For a terrible moment he thought maybe no one was at home, but then Jessie came to the door. Colm grabbed her wrists in his urgency to convey what had happened.
‘It’s Bill. An accident. He’s bleeding, real bad. A boar ripped him up.’
‘Where?’
‘He’s in the ute, on the road in.’
Then Colm sank down on his knees. People appeared from nowhere and Jessie began repeating what Colm had said. There were footsteps running, an engine started up and strong arms helped Colm to his feet and guided him into a bedroom. For a moment, he struggled against them. ‘I have to be with Bill.’
‘It’s all right, young tacker.’
‘Bill needs me,’ said Colm. He gladly took the glass of cold water that the stockman offered him. ‘Where’s Mrs Mahoney?’
‘She’s on the wire, getting the Flying Doctor out here. We don’t know if the old man will make it if we have to drive him down to the hospital in Katherine. Best to fly him to Darwin.’
Colm felt the blood drain from his face. ‘He will make it. He has to make it.’
A hot wind whipped across the airfield as they loaded Bill into the light aircraft.
‘Can I go too?’ asked Colm.
‘Sorry, sonny, no passengers,’ said the medical officer.
Mrs Mahoney and Colm watched the tiny plane take off into the blue sky, becoming smaller and smaller and then disappearing over the horizon. Bill was gone. The future was a dark chasm.
‘C’mon, boy. Don’t stand around like a drongo. Get in the Bentley.’
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘We’re driving up to Darwin. You don’t want Bill coming to and finding we’ve abandoned him, do you?’
The night was black and moonless as the Bentley sped north. Compared to Tin Annie, the Bentley was like a spaceship, the leather smooth and polished, the engine quiet as the night.
Finally, Mrs Mahoney spoke.
‘You did a good job rescuing Bill.’
‘I should have picked up the gun sooner.’
‘You picked it up soon enough to save him. He could have bled to death. I worry about that old man rambling around on his own. He needs to settle down in one place.’
‘Are you going to make him marry you?’
Mrs Mahoney shouted with laughter.
‘I like the way you put that. No one has ever been able to “make” Bill do anything he doesn’t want to. Stubborn as a mule and always has his own way in the end.’
‘But he wanted me to stay with you,’ Colm said. ‘And he couldn’t make you say yes, could he?’
Mrs Mahoney laughed again. ‘Once upon a time I wanted him to leave Clancy with me, but he hummed and hawed about it and then the two of them cleared off together. They were thick as thieves, the rascals. But with you, it’s different. I reckon Bill took you on ‘cause he was trying to make history repeat. See, Billy was once a stray himself. My old auntie Bridie took him in and loved him as if he was her own, but then again, he was easy to love.’
She glanced across at Colm and he got the uncomfortable feeling that she didn’t think he was lovable at all.
‘When you get old, you start to realise that every good thing you do comes back to you - and most of the bad as well. Your grandad, he understands that.’
‘He’s not really my grandad,’ said Colm in a small voice. ‘And he wants to leave me behind. He wouldn’t want to do that if I was really his grandson.’
The silence in the car grew heavy. Colm wished Mrs Mahoney would say something, tell him that of course Bill was his grandad, of course Bill wouldn’t leave him, but she kept her steely gaze on the road. It was as if they were driving into a dark maw. Colm hummed a tune under his breath, trying to push away his fear. Suddenly, Mrs Mahoney spoke again.
‘Don’t you worry too much about old Billy Dare. He’ll pull through. That man, he’s led a charmed life. No ornery old boar can finish him. Did you know me and Billy have been mates for more than fifty years? He’s my lucky touchstone. As long as Bill’s fighting his fights, I know I can go on battling.’
‘Was grandad ever a boxer?’ asked Colm, remembering what Rosie had once told him.
‘Bill? No, but my first husband was a famous boxer, best middleweight boxer in the country. Married him when I was only sixteen. My grandfather wanted to kill him. So did Billy, for that matter. But Stan brought me north. Then he upped and died on me. That’s when I met George Jackson. Gem of a man, he was. Cracked the mining industry wide open. I always wished my grandfather could have known him, but Gramps had passed away by then.’
Colm puzzled over Mrs Mahoney’s story, trying to put all the complicated pieces together. Lily’s ancestor worship seemed much easier than this mass of strangers.
‘If anything happened to Grandad . . . I don’t know what I’d do. He’s all I’ve got.’
‘Then we’ll just have to make sure your “Grandad” pulls through, won’t we?’
Colm smiled. For the first time, he understood what Bill liked about this bossy old woman.
It took hours for the lights of Darwin to appear on the horizon. Colm felt trembly and his head ached with tiredness. The hospital was on stilts, high off the ground. Inside, the lights seemed bright and harsh after the darkness of the desert.
At the front desk, Mrs Mahoney announced that she and Colm were there to see Bill.
‘I’m sorry Mrs Mahoney, but the boy can’t come into the hospital. Children aren’t allowed.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Mrs Mahoney. ‘The boy’s with me and he’s here to see his grandfather.’
‘You’ll have to speak with the doctor, ma’am. Children are definitely not allowed.’
A nurse guided Colm out onto the verandah and he watched through the flywire door as Mrs Mahoney stood by the front desk, one hand on the counter and her face flushed with anger. She argued with everyone until two doctors and a nurse assembled in an effort to placate her. Colm couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but Mrs Mahoney was definitely winning. Finally, the same nurse that had seen him out gestured for him to come back into the hospital foyer.
‘I’ll cover whatever it costs,’ said Mrs Mahoney briskly. ‘And if you can’t fix him up, find someone who can.’
‘Mrs Mahoney, we’re doing our best but you have to appreciate that his injuries are serious. He’s lucky to be alive and he may never walk again.’
Colm’s heart sank but the old woman dived straight back into the argument.
‘A minute ago, you told me you weren’t game to operate. If you’re not, there are doctors in the South who are.’
Colm could see this really got the doctors riled. They left muttering crossly, and Mrs Mahoney slapped her hands together as if she were dusting them off after a job well done.
‘Can I see Grandad now?’ asked Colm.
‘Sure,’ said Mrs Mahoney. She looped Colm’s arm through her own and led him down the corridors. ‘They wouldn’t let you on the men’s ward, so I had him moved. Damn stupid rules and regulations they have here.’
All the nurses and medical attendants pretended not to see them as they turned into a small private room where a nurse was closing the louvred windows against the night. Bill was swathed in bandages. There was even one around his head and he seemed to be asleep.
Gently, Colm touched the tips of Bill’s fingers with his own. If he concentrated, he could feel his prayers moving between the two of them.
‘We’re still a team, Grandad,’ he whispered.
Bill’s eyelids flickered and slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes. Mrs Mahoney stepped forward and touched his cheek.
‘Billy, I’ve told them they have to set you right,’ she said.
Bill tried to smile but Colm could see it was an effort. His face looked strangely sunken. He shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep again. Mrs Mahoney gestured to Colm that they should leave. Reluctantly, Colm withdrew his hand.
‘I’ll be back, Grandad. I’ll be back soon,’ promised Colm. Mrs Mahoney guided him to the door. They were nearly out of the room when they heard Bill speak. ‘Blue, need Blue. Me and the tacker . . . talk to her.’
Mrs Mahoney strode back to his bedside. ‘Billy, don’t try to talk. You have to rest.’
‘No, Annie. My Blue, my little Bridie. If I could . . . the chance . . . redeem all sorrows . . .’ He trailed off, his voice thin and broken.
Colm and Mrs Mahoney stood frozen, waiting to see if Bill would speak again, but now he really did seem to have lapsed into unconsciousness.
‘She wrote him a letter. Blue Delaney. She wrote to him when we were in Alice Springs,’ said Colm, as they walked down the hospital corridor.
‘So she should. She is his daughter.’
Colm stopped in his tracks. ‘His daughter?’
Mrs Mahoney turned to Colm and smiled at his astonishment.
‘But he was really upset,’ said Colm.
‘Oh, they’ve always fought like cats and dogs. She’s got some silly ideas, that girl. I told her years ago, I told her “Mister Menzies will be the saving of this country, mark my words,” and of course I’ve been proved right. But she’s stubborn as a mule. Bill may have been a fierce Labor man but he was never a pinko.’
Colm couldn’t understand what Mrs Mahoney was talking about but he knew that whatever had been in the letter had changed everything. And now Bill had asked for Blue, and Colm knew that it was important. Too important to brush aside.
‘But he burnt her photo! He threw it on the camp fire! His own daughter!’
‘Burnt her photo?’ she echoed, frowning.
Mrs Mahoney drove to a hotel in the heart of Darwin. Neither of them spoke. They both had too much to think about. The ceiling fans whirred in the still night air and Colm tossed and turned beneath the mosquito netting. Being apart from Bill was like walking through a dark abyss that had to be crossed through acts of faith. Colm prayed more fiercely than he ever had in his life, until the morning light cut through the louvres of the hotel room window.
At the breakfast table, Mrs Mahoney looked as though she hadn’t had any sleep either. Colm could tell she’d put on extra face powder to cover the dark rings under her eyes. Later in the morning they went to visit Bill, but he was in a deep sleep and Mrs Mahoney had to have another argument with the nurse about bringing Colm into the hospital again.
‘I’m sending you back to Tara Downs,’ she announced, as they walked down the hospital stairs.
‘No, I have to be near Grandad!’
‘Don’t tell me my business, young man,’ said Mrs Mahoney imperiously. ‘He’s not on death’s door, so he doesn’t need you badgering him. I’ll stay here in Darwin and keep an eye on him but I don’t want you underfoot.’
A truck taking cattle south picked Colm up later that morning and dropped him back at Tara Downs.
Rusty lay in a basket on the back verandah of the white house. A section of her fur had been shaved off and bandaged. Colm knelt down beside the basket and rested one hand gently on her head. Rusty’s tail began to wag and she let out a small excited yip. When Colm stroked her muzzle, she licked his hand. Gently, he wrapped his arms around the dog and pressed his face against her collar.
‘They should have put her down,’ said Jessie the housekeeper. ‘But that Lily, she’s been up here fussing over that animal. Kept the mutt alive, for sure.’
The next morning, Colm went down to Lily’s house, ducking under the spreading branches of the mango trees. Lily was squatting beside a patch of newly turned earth, planting something, when Colm called out to her
‘Thanks for taking care of Rusty. I should have done that.’
She looked up and waved away his thanks. ‘No, you had to be with your grandad. It must have been scary. I’ve been waiting for you to come back so I can give you this,’ she said, shyly thrusting a small stone at him.
Colm held the stone up to the light. It was small and pale green, almost translucent, with a tiny dragon carved on one side.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s for good luck. For your grandad.’ Lily leant closer to him and pointed out the details. ‘See, it’s got a dragon carved on it because the dragon is good luck and for longevity, so your grandad will get better and live a long time. It’s got a Chinese symbol on the other side which means long life. Granny says that it gives a boy courage too, so we both thought you should have it. When you hold it tight, you can tell it works.’
Colm closed his hand over the pale green stone. Lily was right. The cool jade quickly grew warm in his grasp. He slipped it into his pocket.
‘Thanks, Lily,’ he said. ‘You want to go for a walk or something?’
Lily put away her garden tools and they headed out into the scrub. Colm told Lily all about the accident and what had happened in Darwin.
‘I hate not being able to do anything. I hate being a kid. If I was older, they’d let me stay with him. If I was a man, Mrs Mahoney couldn’t boss me around and leave me out of everything.’
