Curse Of Wexkia (3 page)

‘Hello,’ she said, plucking on the remaining hair-band around her wrist.

Her father pushed his hand through his golden hair. ‘Wait here. I will see to my daughter.’

The man let out a low chuckle as her father stepped around him and clasped Nell’s hand to turn her around.

‘Wait,’ she said, pulling up. ‘Can I meet your friend?’

‘Not now.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I said, not now.’ He yanked her towards the living room.

Her presence appeared to annoy him. Too bad.

Before her father could guide her out of the foyer, she pulled her hand away from his and moved in front of the man. She gasped at the sight of his green, scarred face.

The man spun away and wrapped his green cape around his body.

‘Sorry,’ she said. So that’s why he didn’t want her to see him. Poor thing. He must have been in some horrific accident and embarrassed by his appearance. Yeah. That would explain the scars but why was he green? Maybe he was burned.

The stranger gave another low laugh, ‘It’s all right, sweet child.’

His accent was one she had never heard before, not in Cape Hollow or on television or even when she went down south with the Fredericks. She wanted to talk to him even more.

Her father pulled her into the living room. ‘Wait for me in the kitchen,’ he commanded.

She turned back to the foyer and looking up, she blurted, ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘Nell,’ her father said louder than usual.

She jumped. He’d never yelled at her like Sam’s father yelled at him to do something or other. But that was probably because Sam was always ignoring him when he was busy doing something else.

Nell’s father moved back to the visitor. ‘I see we have to cut our conversation short, friend.’ He put an arm around the man’s shoulders and showed him to the front door. ‘I’ll speak to you soon,’ he muttered into the man’s hood.

Without a word, the stranger nodded and left.

When her father turned towards her, he smiled. ‘Come on, young lady, it’s time we had that talk.’

She followed him into the living room and through the dining room. A low rumble of thunder sounded over the ocean and she glanced through the open French doors. A storm brewed on the horizon.

In the kitchen, her father gently pushed her into a chair. She was surprised she sensed his anxiety but when his brows knitted together, he looked angry. A cloud must have blocked the sun because the room darkened. Even the vivid curtains failed to brighten the room.

Relief washed over her when her father’s expression softened.

Nell pointed to the front of the house. ‘Who was that?’

‘Kandar. A friend. He … Don’t worry about him.’

A green, scarred man dressed in strange clothes visits and her father tells her not to worry about him, as if she was an annoying child. And what about that name? Where did a name like Kandar come from?

‘But his face was green.’

‘There’s a logical explanation for it appearing that way. We’ll talk about him another time, when you get a little older.’

Ugh. They were getting along great before the stranger turned up. Now it was all different. He acted as if he didn’t know she was old enough to go out into the world on her own so she was more than old enough to talk about some poor man’s accident.

He patted her knee.

At his touch, the atmosphere surrounding Nell prickled. Her senses had definitely heightened. Maybe an electrical storm was on its way.

Clasping his hands, he rested his forearms on the table. His shoulders appeared heavier than the last time she saw him. Maybe he couldn’t find what his company wanted on his trip.

‘Nellen, it’s important that you listen to me.’

He rarely used her full name. She lifted her head. He looked tired and troubled all of a sudden. She couldn’t remember detecting other people’s moods before. Maybe it was because she was about to turn seventeen. People probably gained a type of sixth sense as they grew older.

She wished he would hurry and tell her what was going on so she could tell him all her news.

A frown reappeared between her father’s brows.

He had more than the visitor on his mind. Great. He probably didn’t want to hear anything she had to say, about university or especially, her dreams. The last time she told him about them, he was more irritated than worried. He didn’t want to hear how she flew with four magnificent wings or swam with strange sea creatures. If she told him those dreams had become nightmares, he’d probably dismiss them and tell her to forget about them again. It probably wouldn’t matter how old she got, he’d still treat her like a child.

  Bored, she studied his hands. His fingers were long and smooth like a pianist’s might be. She inspected his other features.

She wasn’t sure how old he was. If she asked him, he’d shrug the question off and say, ‘Forty-something.’ She sighed. He never really answered any of her questions.

He moved his chair closer and Nell breathed in his
aroma. He always had the scent of the ocean around him. Sometimes she wondered, was it cologne or did he naturally smell of the sea – clean and salty?

‘You need to stay close to the house from now on.’ His blue eyes didn’t flicker. ‘I don’t want you to go any farther north than the Frederick’s and no more than fifty metres south.’

That meant she would be stuck there with nothing to do. ‘Why?’

His lips narrowed. He wasn’t going to answer that question either.

‘Because I said, that’s why.’

‘Have I done something wrong?’

He smiled. ‘No, you haven’t done anything wrong.’

Great. Grounded without a reason. ‘How long? From now until I go to uni?’

Her father’s expression was confused. ‘University?’

‘JCU of course. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to go there because Sam was already. I got my acceptance just before Christmas.’

‘I’ve never given you any reason to believe you would be going to university. Why would you think such a thing?’

‘Because pretty well everyone goes now days and Annet helped me apply.’

‘You won’t be going anywhere this year, not to James Cook University or anywhere else. You will continue to be schooled at home by correspondence. If Annet can’t spare the time to help you anymore, I will.’

The kitchen dimmed even further at her father’s words. Not go to uni? Stay at home? Her insides were as empty as the beach. Hot tears pooled in her eyes.

‘You’re treating me like a child, Dad. Do you even know that I’m nearly seventeen?’

Through the haze, the anguish on her father’s face confused her. Why would he look like that? He was hurting her, she wasn’t hurting him. Her hands shook as she rubbed them together, so she wiped them on the sides of her jeans hoping the movement would quell her tears. She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to be angry.

‘I’m sorry, love. I probably should have told you sooner, but you should begin to notice changes in your body and mind this year.’ He placed his hands palm down on the table and pushed himself onto his feet as if his body was a great weight.

Nothing he told her made sense. He was a bit late for ‘the talk’. That was how much attention he took. He hadn’t even noticed she had already changed.

‘That’s no reason to keep me here. Annet’s already told me everything years ago.’ Rage flared through her. ‘You can’t stop me from going. I am old enough to do what I want. And you don’t have to pay. I’ve applied for help with the fees.’

‘Nell.’ His voice was low, but commanding as he leant forward.

She held his gaze.

Finally, he sighed. ‘We’ll speak more when my sister arrives.’

His sister? ‘You have a sister?’

He nodded.

‘Why haven’t you ever told me? Why haven’t I met her before?’

‘You will understand why when she gets here. She’s bringing your birthday presents and they will help explain the things I’ve avoided for too long.’ He reached for her hand.

A glimpse of curiosity sparked in her mind. Sister and
presents? It didn’t matter. She was going to uni whether he liked it or not. She snatched her hand away. ‘I don’t care. She never bothered to see me before now.’

‘There are reasons, Nell. Reasons why you have to stay close to the house and why you can’t attend university. Please, love, trust me.’

‘No. You can’t stop me.’ She pushed her chair out from under her with such force it crashed to the floor. ‘I hate you,’ she screamed, and ran out of the kitchen. Hitting the sideboard with a closed fist, she stormed onto the side veranda.

She stood still and shivered. Tears made tracks down her cheeks. She shouldn’t have said that. She didn’t hate him. She loved him with all her heart. Oh, Mum, she said silently, wishing again her mother was there. She loved Annet but she wasn’t her mother and never would be.

Calming down a few minutes later, she felt silly for her tantrum. The croc’s words stung her mind. She sighed and had to admit she had acted childishly. Ugh. Being an adult wasn’t so great after all but she’d try harder next time.

Dwelling on her sadness, she was aware of the breeze rustling the coconut palm fronds, the scratching animal noises under the house, probably lizards, the ebb and flow of the ocean pulling and pushing the sand. A prickling sensation filled the air and a sense of impending danger made her skin itchy. She rubbed her arms and looked out over the ocean. Dark clouds stretched across the horizon. She was right. A huge storm was on its way.

A
soft breeze ruffled her curls as she looked out over the ocean. She couldn’t tell if the salt she tasted on her lips was from the ocean or her tears. As she gazed past the clumps of rusty, dead coral at the thunderheads blending into one, her chest tightened as if it was in a vice, the grey ocean and gloomy sky in front of her and the rainforest-covered mountain behind her wasn’t her little piece of heaven anymore. It was a prison. She was trapped. Trapped forever. How could her father do that to her? Did he really wish she’d died instead of her mother?

She remembered the first time she had heard those words from her father. A ten-year-old, hiding behind bushes, although she couldn’t remember why. She had overheard her father talking to their neighbour, Carl Frederick.

‘You have to tell Nell,’ Carl had said.

‘I know. I will soon,’ her father replied.

She remembered having to strain to hear the rest of what her father said, and although he spoke in hushed tones, she was sure she had heard correctly.

‘The truth is, Carl, I wish (mumble) died instead of Asisa.’

Ten-year-old Nell inserted her name easily into the part-heard sentence.
‘The truth is, Carl, I wish Nell had died instead of Asisa.’

The same line had played in her mind a million times since that day, and instead of becoming less painful over the years, the words burned in her memory and heart.

Her father’s soft-soled footsteps sounded behind her. She turned, stepped into her white scuffs and threw him the most hateful look she could muster. Taking the stairs two at a time, she landed on the sand. ‘He hates me,’ she muttered.

The wind moved the dark clouds closer to shore. She headed for the path and as soon as she passed the front stairs, she started snatching the purple flowers off their stalks and tossing them at the wall of the house. By the time she’d got to the front corner, she’d de-headed every bloom she could get her hands on. Turning onto the path, she stopped and moaned, ‘I’m going to get sick of hanging around here. Ugh. How many times can I go to and from the Frederick’s place?’ More tears pooled in her eyes. She swiped them away. ‘This is the worst day in my life.’

Humph. Crossing her arms, she slouched along the path curving its way at the foot of Mount Grief. It was so quiet except for an animal’s call every now and then from the rainforest to her left and the sound of waves gently lapping the beach to her right. ‘Grrr,’ she growled. She was sick of being so isolated. She kicked the first fallen coconut she found. Searing pain filled her toes. Clasping both hands around her foot, she dropped down, moaning. ‘Ow, ow, ow.’

After several moments, the pain subsided and she checked each of her toes. None appeared broken. She stood up and gingerly tested her foot but as she took a step, a movement caught her eye.

A person meandered between the trees a little way up the mountain. Her mouth opened to call out a greeting
but the crocodile’s words filled her mind,
‘You are in danger’
. She checked herself and crouched low behind a bush. It looked like a man by the way he moved, although his movements were more of a skulk than anything else. He wore a dark-grey cape and hood and moved closer to the house. He was as out of place in Cape Hollow as the man who was with her father earlier.

She bit her cheek. Lots of people wear grey. But hikers didn’t wear capes and there were no walking or riding trails on that part of Mount Grief. Maybe he was lost.

The man stopped. Nell sank deeper into the undergrowth without taking her eyes off him. The cape was of the same style as the green one her father’s visitor had worn. She squinted and studied his appearance. Maybe they came from a cold place and didn’t realise how hot it was in North Queensland. The man at the house was a friend of her father. The man on the mountain might be as well.

He stepped back and a gust of wind caught his cape. It opened a little to reveal a drab brown suit. He wasn’t the same man who had visited her father but there was something familiar in his stance. He was as short and heavy as Carl. The grey hood obscured most of his face but the little skin she could see appeared as grey as his cape. Either he was wearing make-up or he was sick. His skin, like that of the other man, appeared scarred.

She refocused. A voice in her mind told her she had seen the man before. While she tried to remember, the strange-looking man spun his head from north to south and back again. As if something had angered him, he kicked his high, black boot into the ground.

Had he spotted her? Her heart leapt into her throat. All the terrors of her dreams flooded through her mind.
Huh. That’s where she had seen him. In her dreams. He had sent the bird-men after her. She blinked at the memory and bit her cheek. Now she was letting her imagination and her nightmares take over her life. She gave a shake of her head. In that instant, the man disappeared. She blinked again and sucked in the corner of her mouth. The man had vanished.