Flight of the Jabiru (13 page)

Lara had hoped the hard work would make her feel better, but it didn't. Knowing she couldn't cool down in the billabong was especially hard. A cloud of depression settled upon her, weighing her down. She sat at the small table in the kitchen and leant forward, resting her head on her arms, while trying desperately not to cry.

“You sick?” a little voice said.

Lara looked up to find a small boy standing in the open doorway. It wasn't hard to work out who he was, as he was a miniature of his father, right down to the hair that was tinged red. She noticed he had no shoes on his feet and his little short-sleeved shirt had buttons missing. His shorts were also well worn and his legs and arms were brown but freckly.

“Hello, no I'm not sick, just tired. It's hard to get used the heat. I'm Miss Penrose. What's your name?”

“Richie!” an unseen girl's voice called crossly. “Mom told you to keep away from the school house because the new teacher is busy.”

The little boy looked confused, as if he'd been doing something he'd been told to do by his sister.

“It's all right,” Lara called.

The girl appeared in the doorway, her own features full of curiosity.

“Momma said to keep away from the school house,” she chastised.

“But you said...”

“Never mind,” the girl snapped, confirming Lara's belief that she'd put him up to going first in case Lara was adverse to visitors.

Richie looked at Lara with big eyes that held a twinkle of mischief. “I'm Richie and I'm four, but I'll soon be five, then I can come to school, too.”

“Your birthday is months away, Richie,” the girl said impatiently. “I'm Ruthie.”

“I'm pleased to meet you, Richie and Ruthie,” Lara said. The girl had wild, dark hair, like her mother. She wasn't wearing shoes, either, and her dress looked a little small for her. The two of them strolled into the kitchen and looked about them with open distaste.

“Do you have any biscuits?” Richie asked when he found nothing of interest.

“No, I'm afraid not,” Lara said.

“What about some fizzy pop?”

“Stop scrounging, Richie,” Ruthie said crossly. “Or I'll tell mom.”

“I'll tell her you pinched me hard,” Richie threatened, while Lara poured two glasses of water for them.

“And what, you'll cry like a sook again,” Ruthie retaliated. “Anyway, Miss Penrose will tell mom that's not true, won't you, Miss Penrose?” Ruthie looked around the kitchen curiously, while Richie eyed Lara as if deciding whether she could be trusted or not.

Lara winked at him, and he smiled. “I collect skinks,” he said brightening.

“Do you? How many have you got?”

He tried to count on his fingers, but seemed to get confused. “I dunno,” he said.

“None because Robbie let them all go,” Ruthie said with big sisterly say-so.

“He did not,” Richie said petulantly.

“He did,” Ruthie insisted smugly. “Do you like it here, Miss Penrose?” she asked.

“I haven't settled in yet, but I'm sure I will,” Lara said with forced optimism. “You are ten, aren't you, Ruthie?”

“Yes, I am,” Ruthie said proudly standing up straight and trying to appear grown up.

“Can you count to twenty?”

Ruthie looked unsure. “I can count to ten,” she said as if this was quite an achievement. “One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... nine ... ten.”

“What about eight?” Lara said dismayed. Richie should've been able to count to ten and he was six years her junior.

“Oh, yeah,” Ruthie said, shrugging her mistake off.

“I can't count yet,” Richie said, guzzling his water noisily and then putting his empty glass on the sink.

“You will when you start coming to school,” Lara said.

“He's too young for school,” Ruthie insisted with authority.

“I don't see why he can't attend school,” Lara said. “He won't be in grade one for awhile, but I think I can find something to keep him busy.” She was thinking of learning games.

Richie beamed. To see his innocent face light up gave Lara pleasure and reminded her of why she'd chosen a teaching vocation in the first place.

Ruthie was looking around the kitchen while Lara was distracted with Richie. She came upon a bottle of fluid and poured it into her glass. Lara turned around just as she was about to drink it.

“Stop!” Lara cried out. She leapt from her chair and went to the sink where the open bottle of Jasol stood. She took the glass from Ruthie and sniffed it. “What are you doing?”

“I'm still thirsty,” Ruthie said, sensing she was in trouble.

“Do you know what this is?” Lara asked.

Ruthie looked uncertain. “A drink,” she said in a small voice.

“It's cleaning fluid, Ruthie. It could kill you if you drank it. Didn't you see the label on the bottle?” Lara pointed to it.

“It looks like the cordial mom gets for us,” Ruthie explained.

Lara realized that Ruthie couldn't read the label where it said the product was poisonous.

“Please don't tell our mom, Miss Penrose,” Ruthie said worriedly.

Lara wasn't sure that was the right thing to do. “Will you promise me something, Ruthie?”

The little girl thought she was making a deal that wouldn't see her get into trouble at home, so she nodded.

“Will you promise me that you won't ever drink or eat anything without asking an adult if it's okay?”

Ruthie nodded again. “We'd better go, Richie,” she said, taking her brother by the hand and leading him towards the door. The little boy turned and waved with a smile.

Lara sat down again. Her heart was thudding just thinking about what could've happened. All children needed educating, but it was an urgent matter that the local children be taught to read. Their lives could depend on it.

Lara continued to clean. She washed the kitchen floor with the Jasol cleaning fluid. It was hard work as the floor was filthy, and she had to kill quite a few ants, some of them a frightening size. Then she did the walls. The state of the kitchen was depressing and no matter how much she cleaned, it didn't seem to look any more cheerful. Her efforts felt futile.

As she washed down the kitchen cupboards and counter, Lara was overwhelmed with emotions and burst into tears. She sank to the floor and sobbed loudly, her tears mixing with the perspiration on her face. She missed her father so much. She missed her pupils at Newmarket Elementary School. She missed her comfortable life in England and socializing with her friends. Shady Camp wasn't a prison, but it might as well have been because she was still trapped for two years. She cursed the day she'd crossed swords with Lord Roy Hornsby.

Lara cried tears of self pity into her handkerchief, something she couldn't ever remember doing. She felt foolish for whimpering and sobbing like a child, but at the same time it was a blessed relief. After a few minutes she leant back on the cupboard and sighed, suddenly weary to the bone as she tried to catch her breath. What could she do? She couldn't change her circumstances. She had to make the best of them. That didn't stop her feeling miserable, though.

Suddenly she heard a low, guttural growl and froze. For a moment, she thought she must've imagined it. Then she heard it again. She got to her feet and stood at the kitchen sink, blowing her nose. She looked out of the window, expecting to see a dog. She became aware of something else. A strange smell. She sniffed again, but it wasn't familiar. She also saw something unusual by the back table, but couldn't make out what it was.

Then Lara heard another low, menacing growl. This time it was more intense, and closer. It was primal and evil, unlike any dog she'd ever heard. Something made her slowly turn towards the back door, which was about twelve feet away from where she stood. She'd left it open for air circulation. She blinked because her sight was blurry through tears, not sure what she was seeing was really there. She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and looked again, then gasped in sheer terror!

Lara's heart began to hammer so hard that she felt dizzy. It drummed in her ears. She froze, unable to breathe, unable to scream. If not for the sink at her back, she might've toppled over as her legs turned to jelly.

The kitchen doorway was blocked by the most enormous head she'd ever seen. She was being watched by eyes that were deadpan — cold, lifeless. For the first time in her life she knew what it felt like to be thought of as prey. It left her chilled to the bone!

With the creatures jaw open, she could see rows of huge, discolored teeth. The strange smell assailed her again. It was like stagnant water mixed with rotting flesh. Lara couldn't move and couldn't breathe. She expected at any moment she was going to be pounced upon by the biggest crocodile she could ever have imagined. She had a partial view of the window, as well as the door, so she could see the creature's tail by the outside table.

“Oh, God help me,” she silently prayed. She thought she'd felt alone before, but it was nothing like now. Seconds dragged agonizingly. A minute felt like an hour. She wanted to run to the bedroom and slam the door, but she couldn't move — she daren't. Monty had emphasized how fast crocodiles could move when after prey. “Like lightning,” he'd said. He'd told her it was best not to run if confronted by a crocodile, but to cautiously back away. There was no chance of that. She was paralyzed by fear she never imagined possible. Only her mind was working, racing, imagining that she was about to be devoured by this scaly, prehistoric monster. In her mind, she heard Monty talking about the time he was attacked. The jaws of the crocodile crushing his legs and foot with unimaginable force, and the death roll. Only now, right at this minute, could she appreciate that it was a miracle he'd escaped with his life. She doubted she'd be so lucky.

A movement outside caught her eye. She glanced through the window for just a second, not long enough to see anything and too terrified to drag her gaze from the crocodile for a better look, lest he lunged for her. Then she heard a bellow that sounded like it had come from a calf. Was that possible? It was a vulnerable, helpless sound that alerted the crocodile to an easy meal. The creature backed up and swung his massive head to the right, then disappeared.

It was only then that Lara dared to exhale. She'd been unaware she'd been holding her breath. She glanced out of the window to reassure herself that the crocodile had really gone. She saw a water buffalo and a tiny calf not twenty feet from the rectory. The calf must've wandered from its mother, who had sensed danger. The mother and calf headed towards the billabong with the crocodile in pursuit. Lara's heart sank again, thinking of the danger the poor calf was in. She watched, frozen, as the giant beast ambled after its prey, its enormous tail swishing from side to side. It was remarkably and terrifyingly agile for its incredible size, so what chance did the poor calf have?

Lara moved towards the back door with a pounding heart. She felt sick to her stomach and was aware of feeling light-headed and shaky. The last thing she remembered was closing the door.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Lara! Wake up, Lara,” Betty said with a sense of urgency.

Lara's eyes fluttered open. Two faces were peering at her worriedly. Betty, she recognized, but the other face belonged to a handsome stranger. For a few moments she wondered where she was and why she was lying on the floor. Then she remembered, and groaned.

“Lara, what happened? Did you faint?” Betty asked from a kneeling position beside her.

The man, also kneeling at her side, was holding her hand and patting the top quite firmly. She realized he was trying to ‘bring her round'. Then he took her pulse, which she thought was an odd thing to do. She struggled to sit up, but was told to be still in an authoritative tone. It was then she noticed the back door was open again.

“Shh... sh... shut the door,” she stammered urgently. “Shut it!”

Betty and the handsome man were puzzled by her near hysteria.

“We need some air in here, Lara. It's stifling,” Betty said, noticing that the kitchen was spotlessly clean. She could also see into the living room and bedroom, and they were clean, too. She couldn't believe how much Lara had accomplished in such a short time. She looked at Doctor Quinlan. “It looks like she's been working like a demon and that's why she fainted,” she said. “Having the door closed wouldn't have helped.”

“No, and it smells very strongly of insecticide in here.”

“She doesn't like bugs,” Betty explained in a whisper.

“She's probably wearing too many restrictive undergarments,” the doctor said. “English women don't realize how much girdles and the like trap heat in the body.”

Lara found his comment embarrassing and couldn't look him in the eyes. Fortunately, he was busy examining red lumps on her arms and legs, left by mosquito bites. He appeared displeased.

“I fainted because the biggest crocodile you could imagine was right here,” Lara said, verging on hysteria again. “I thought it was going to eat me!”

Betty looked at her in bewilderment.

“You can get up now, Miss Penrose,” the doctor said, putting his arm around her waist to assist. His accent was English, which was a comfort, but he was holding her very intimately for a man who hadn't introduced himself.

“Who are you?” Lara asked more brusquely than intended.

“Forgive my lack of manners. Lara, this is Doctor Jerry Quinlan,” Betty said. “He comes to town about once a week. I brought him here to meet you, but we didn't expect to find you on the floor.” For a terrible moment, Betty had thought Lara was dead and cursed the town's bad luck.

“I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Penrose,” Jerry said smiling warmly and mildly aware that his voice wasn't steady. He couldn't believe how attractive she was, even though she was as white as a sheet and perspiring because she was unwell. He was a thirty-two-year-old man who'd dated many women and come close to marrying two of them, so he didn't understand why his pulse was racing like that of an adolescent on his first date.

Lara struggled to get up, even with the doctor's assistance. Once upright she felt dizzy again, and swayed, so he helped her to a chair.

“Get her a glass of water, please, Betty,” Jerry instructed.

“I would have appreciated being forewarned that a monster crocodile might come into the kitchen and eat me,” Lara said in an agitated state when Betty put the water in front of her.

Betty was stunned. “I wouldn't call the crocs around here monsters, Lara...”

“I would,” Lara said. “It was there,” she pointed towards the doorway. “It must've been sixteen feet long and probably weighed much more than a ton. That's a monster. And it was going to eat me, right here in the kitchen.”

“A crocodile... sixteen feet long, in this kitchen,” Betty said incredulously. She glanced at the small kitchen space and then gave Jerry a strange look.

“It didn't come right into the kitchen, thank God, but it was in the doorway,” Lara stammered. “I was absolutely terrified!”

“That's impossible, Lara. I've been here for many years and I've never seen a fresh water crocodile that big,” Betty said. “Let alone at my kitchen door.”

“I'm not exaggerating, Betty. Its head literally filled that doorway and through the kitchen window I could see its tail by the outside table, and it growled at me. I thought I was going to die...” Her voice quivered just remembering the fear she'd felt.

Betty looked at Jerry again. “Monty was filling Lara's head with stories about crocodiles yesterday,” she clarified.

Lara's eyes widened. “I didn't imagine it,” she claimed emotionally.

“I know,” Betty said quickly. “But perhaps it was a large goanna and with Monty talking about crocodiles ... your imagination got carried away.”

“A goanna is a lizard, isn't it?”

“Yes, and they can grow very big,” Betty said. “Some might call them monsters.”

“I might be new to this country, but I know the difference between a lizard and a crocodile, Betty,” Lara said angrily. “Since when do lizards have rows of enormous teeth and smell like slimy water?” She was suddenly overcome with weariness. “Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll have a lie down. Shut the door on the way out.” Lara stood up, willing herself not to faint again.

“Can't you give her something, Jerry?” Betty asked the doctor.

“Like what?” Jerry asked, not following. He could see that Lara was agitated and he didn't want to make the situation worse.

“Something calming,” Betty said. “You must have something in your doctor's bag.”

“I don't need a sedative, Betty,” Lara said testily. “I just need to be believed. You said yourself that the billabong is full of crocodiles. Why's it so hard to believe that one was just here? It would've attacked me if it hadn't heard a calf.”

“A calf! No one in town keeps cattle, other than me, Lara. My three are milkers.”

“The calf belonged to a water buffalo that didn't appear to be domesticated.”

“Oh, well, we see them around here from time to time,” Betty said. “But I can assure you that crocodiles don't usually pay house calls. They're more cautious than that.”

“Well this one did!”

“And the biggest are usually about eight or nine feet long, at best.”

“It must've been a saltie,” Jerry interjected.

“As far as I know, most of the big crocs have been shot in the rivers,” Betty insisted.

“We don't know that for sure. There have been sightings of big crocs in the billabongs,” Jerry insisted. “They can only be salties.”

“There you are,” Lara said, glad someone might believe her.

“Since the government allowed every Tom, Dick and Harry to shoot crocs, big salties in the billabongs are rare, and if I remember correctly the last supposed sighting of a giant saltie was from a drunken fisherman on Corroboree billabong. Certainly no one in this town has seen crocs as big as that for quite some time, not even the fishermen who spend all their time on the billabong.”

Lara could tell that she wasn't believed and it infuriated her. “It was a monster crocodile and it chased a water buffalo and calf down to the billabong,” she stated with frustration. “It was horrible, absolutely terrifying.” She walked towards the bedroom. Once through the door, she slammed it shut.

“Damn!” Betty hissed. “She's very upset. She promised she'd stay, but I can't see that happening now.”

“She's in shock and you practically accused her of lying,” Jerry suggested.

“I didn't accuse her of lying, but obviously she didn't see a sixteen-foot-long crocodile in the kitchen doorway. Surely you don't believe she did?”

“I don't know what she saw, but something caused her to faint,” Jerry said.

“She's just off the ship from England. Even a small fresh water croc would look like a monster to her.”

“Perhaps,” Jerry conceded.

“Do you think she'll leave over this?” Betty asked worriedly.

“I can't say,” Jerry said.

Lara slept for hours. It was the deepest sleep she'd had since before she was arrested for assaulting Lord Hornsby. When she awoke, she was momentarily disorientated, and then the nightmare that was her present life came rushing at her.

The bedroom curtains were open, so she could see the late afternoon shadows were creeping across the ground between the lofty trees. She guessed it must've been close to five o'clock. She felt hungry and thirsty, but the thought of going into the dreary kitchen to make tea was distressing. Still, it couldn't be avoided. The rectory was her home for the next two years. After that, she vowed she'd book her passage on the first ship home.

Lara thought about the morning's dramatic events as she glanced around the clean but cheerless bedroom and slipped her shoes on. She was upset that Betty was adamant that a monster crocodile did not exist and insistent that crocodiles were cautious and wouldn't confront her in the kitchen. For a few seconds she considered the possibility that Betty was right. Had she imagined that the crocodile was much larger than it was? Had she been so exhausted and depressed that it was possible that she hadn't seen a crocodile at all?

“I'm not crazy and I don't imagine things,” she said aloud. “But here I am, talking to myself.” Lara groaned, but the more she thought about it, the more she knew it wouldn't have been possible to see the creature's tail from the kitchen window, while its head was inside the doorway, if it hadn't been at least sixteen feet long. She didn't imagine that.

Not wanting anymore nasty surprises, Lara opened the bedroom door cautiously. The back door was closed, so she sighed with relief. She walked into the kitchen, still drowsy, and stopped. She looked around in confusion, and wondered if she was dreaming.

There was a glass vase of beautiful orchid flowers in the center of the small table, which was now covered by a lovely checked tablecloth, in blue and yellow. Also on the table was a plate of freshly baked biscuits that were still warm. They'd been covered with a lovely tea towel, but the smell of buttery almond short bread made Lara's tummy grumble with hunger.

Her gaze was drawn to the window, where there were new sky-blue curtains tied back with yellow sashes. Two small pot plants stood on the window ledge, providing vibrant green foliage. A bright blue bowl containing tropical fruits that included bananas, mangoes and pawpaw, stood on one counter. Her eyes were drawn to a lovely china teapot and cup and saucer that were also on the counter. The teapot was aqua blue, with a yellow daisy pattern, and the cup and saucer matched. Beside it, was a small tin of Earl Grey tealeaves, her favorite tea, and the loveliest reminder of home. Lara picked up the tin and cried out with delight, as tears of happiness pricked her eyes. She hadn't had Earl Grey tea since leaving England.

Lara stood in the kitchen, looking around her. She could feel the love and kindness of people she hadn't yet met. She didn't think the gifts were all from Betty, but the brightened kitchen, and the thoughtfulness of strangers, gave her a sense of being welcome and accepted. It meant so much.

Lara sat down at the table and ate a biscuit, then another. They were delicious and melted in her mouth. She then boiled some water and made tea in the new teapot. It was a comforting ritual and the smell of Earl Grey tea immediately took her home. She couldn't help smiling as she drank from the pretty china cup and ate more of the biscuits. It was then she happened to glance into her living room and noticed there'd been changes there, too. Taking her tea, she went to have a closer look.

There were new cushions on the chairs. The covers were embroidered in blue and yellow with a hint of red. Lara examined the stitching. It was meticulous. There were books on the bookshelf that included
Gone with the Wind
by Margaret Mitchell,
Rebecca
by Daphne du Maurier, and
Little House in the Big Woods
by Laura Ingalls Wilder. She'd read
Gone with the Wind
, which was one of her favorite books, and the others looked like very good reads. She suddenly saw herself being able to pass some of the long evenings reading, and that was something to look forward to. She had to smile when she noticed two books on fishing for beginners on the shelf. There was also a book on baking biscuits and sponge cakes, and another on knitting and crocheting.

By the window, now framed in white lace curtains, there was a potted palm that brought the small living room to life. She was so touched that tears rolled down her cheeks. Her emotions were all over the place, and it was exhausting, but that the members of the community of Shady Camp would do something so nice for her gave her hope that the next two years might not be so bad.

Lara changed her clothes and then headed for the hotel.

There were fourteen adult locals waiting at the pub, hoping to meet the new schoolteacher. The children wouldn't sit still for more than five minutes, so they were running around, playing. Betty couldn't guarantee that Lara would come to the hotel, but she was optimistic after enlisting the women's help to make her feel welcome.