Jack & Harry (39 page)

Paddy had a window seat. He stared into the darkness as the train sped toward Pt Augusta and as he had never been to South Australia he was imagining what it must be like in Coober Pedy. He had of course, heard tales of the town and its rough-hewn inhabitants and wondered how Jack and Harry would be faring in such an alien environment. He was looking forward to seeing the two small boys again, final y admitting to himself that part of his decision to leave Kalgoorlie was to see that they came to no harm.

Paddy had had what he termed a ‘marginal' childhood. Born in County Corke, Ireland, the fourth son of a struggling village baker, he had left home at the age of twelve, unable to win his father's love or approval for anything he did. Working for a time on the docks he developed a passion for Irish whisky and gambling that had seen him have many highs, but mainly lows, in his life. His mother had been a wisp of a woman and his memories of her were vague, as she seemed to be alternately always weeping or praying … or both.

He knew he looked like his mother, who was small of stature. He had inherited her flaming red hair and blue eyes although Paddy's hair was now streaked with grey and had lost its lustre. The legacy he got from his father was a sense of humour and a ‘devil may care' attitude to life. Migrating to Australia he had tried a number of ventures, including prospecting around the goldfields where he made a few finds to finance his penchant for gambling but there was a wanderlust in his bones and he could never settle down to anything substantial. He had a number of ‘associates' but only one friend, Timothy O'Malley.

When he had met the boys on the train there was something about their naive determination that had reminded him of when he had left the bosom of his family to discover life. He felt he could be of assistance to them in some way and it never occurred to Paddy that it was he who was searching for acceptance and the need to be part of a family.

Opening the Gladstone bag that was beside him he rifled through the contents, humbled that Father O'Malley had taken the time to select some things to make his trip and stay in Coober Pedy more comfortable. The shirts, although not new, were washed and neatly ironed, no doubt by Mrs Lacey, the housekeeper. There was also a pair of grey twill trousers and Paddy wondered how they would fit him as Timothy O'Malley was a much taller man than Paddy but when he held them up, much to the interest of his fellow passengers, he saw they would be almost perfect. He realised that they must have come from Mrs Lacey and speculated for a moment what her husband would say when he discovered a pair of his pants missing. There were socks, three pair of new underpants, and half a dozen handkerchiefs. Then his hand felt something hard at the bottom of the bag. Knowing instinctively what it was he said half aloud, ‘Timothy, it's a friend indeed that ye are.' He took the bottle from the bag.

Paddy remembered the envelope he had been given. He took it from his coat pocket, turning it over thoughtfully wondering what was in it.
Probably just a letter for the lads,
he thought and placed it at the bottom of the bag for safekeeping. He uncorked the bottle and, taking a swig from it, he noticed the disdainful look from the woman seated opposite. ‘Hello there, m'lovely.' Paddy held the bottle out. ‘Would you like to be joinin' me then in a little celebratory drink? … No? Oh well then … all the more for Paddy. Cheers!'

The woman turned several shades of red and snapped her head back to the book she had been reading, never looking in Paddy's direction again for the entire trip. Relaxing back in the padded train seat he closed his eyes and, listening to the rhythmic clatter of the wheels, wondered what the two boys were doing at that moment before he drifted off to sleep, the bottle clasped securely on his lap.

‘They've found him!' became the catch cry as men ran to the shaft mouth. Jim Leslie stood beside the windlass. ‘Stand back!' He shouted firmly. ‘We don't know much yet, other than that they seem to have broken through the rock and reached Bruno.'

Jack burst from the car before the priest could stop him and ran full pelt to the shaft. ‘Mister Leslie … is he all right?'

‘Settle down, son.' The man placed a firm restraining hand on Jack's chest. ‘Best you wait back by the car.'

Jack was determined to stay and, resisting the man's attempts to turn him back to Harry and the priest who were standing off at a distance, he moved away a few feet so as not to interfere with the men at the shaft mouth. A dust-caked face appeared at the top of the ladder, white in the glare of the spotlights. ‘We broke through,' he gasped, ‘we found him.'

‘How is he?' Jim Leslie placed himself between the man and Jack when he asked the question.

‘Blood miracle it is.' The man climbed from the ladder. ‘Seems like Bruno was working at the drive face when the roof caved in behind him, cutting him off and leaving him in about four or five feet of tunnel. Not a scratch on him but he'd passed out from lack of air by the time we got to him. He's come to, now that air's gettin' to him, but he's mumblin' like a madman. Pretty shook up too.'

‘You mean he's not hurt? Not at all?' Leslie was astounded.

‘Like I said … not a scratch on him but I think he's lost his mind.' The rescuer shook his head touching the tip of his finger to his temple. ‘When he came to he yelled at us to get out of his mine! Can you bloody well believe it?'

‘Yes, I can actually,' Leslie replied. ‘I think I'd go a bit mad too if I was trapped forty feet underground, believing I was going to die there and just waiting in pitch dark silence for the air to run out.'

‘Yeah, suppose so. He's clutchin' a rock or somethin' and won't let anyone see it or touch it. Keeps yellin',
‘Itsa mine, itsa mine!'

Bruno was brought up from his tomb, the bright lights blinding him. A man on each side held him upright as his legs wouldn't hold him as they half dragged, half carried him to the shelter where a nursing sister was waiting to examine him. Jack and Harry were stunned to see their friend. His eyes were wide open and staring like a frightened animal, his lips moved constantly, mouthing silent words; and his arms were folded tightly against his chest shielding some unseen object.

The men eventually forced him to lie on the stretcher so the nurse could look him over but they couldn't get his arms from his chest. Whenever they tried, Bruno would start writhing and screaming, ‘Itsa mine! Itsa mine!' and looking wildly about him without focusing.

The nurse held a needle to the light, squirted a small amount of liquid from the tip, and then plunged it unceremoniously into Bruno's upper arm. He gave no indication that he had felt the needle and continued staring at imagined foes. When the sedative took affect, his muscles relaxed, his head lolled to one side and he closed his eyes. The nurse unfolded his arms and gasped when she saw what Bruno had been protecting.

‘Good heavens! Will you look at that?' Jim Leslie reached down and took the rock from Bruno's chest.

It was shaped roughly in the image of Australia, about five inches thick and a foot long and nobody could miss the vibrant colours highlighted by the generator-driven lights. Miners stood staring in reverent awe at the stone that Leslie passed to the priest. ‘This is what he almost died for. You better keep it safe for him, Father. I'll leave a couple of my men on guard overnight to make sure no moonlighters decide to go down the shaft to see if there's more opal like Bruno found.'

‘Nobody would go down after a cave-in, would they?' Jack asked. ‘Not until they knew it was safe?'

Jim Leslie smiled. ‘You just never know, son. You can trust the blokes involved in the rescue but when the word's out about what Bruno found, rats will surface and risking their life for a fortune is nothing to them.'

Jack and Harry stood beside the priest, mesmerised by the size of the opal, as the stretcher was lifted onto the back of a utility and Bruno was driven off to the medical centre. They didn't speak, lost for words at the miracle of Bruno being found alive and the opal he had found, as they drove with Shaun Logan from the now almost deserted mine. As the car bounced onto the track leading to town, the generator was switched off and darkness fell over the shaft, the mine, and the two men remaining on guard.

The priest insisted that the two boys come back with him to his place for a bath and a cooked dinner. They didn't realise he was nervous about minding the opal overnight and would welcome their company. They were too exhausted to argue but said they needed to let Reynold know that Bruno had been found. Stopping by their claim they told him the news but he declined the priest's invitation to join them for a meal. Harry carried a calico bag that contained some opal pieces and had their cash bundled safely beneath his shirt and Shaun Logan was comforted when Jack returned to the vehicle carrying his rifle. They trusted Reynold but they knew it made him nervous to be left minding their riches so didn't want him to have the responsibility.

The meal was simple at the priest's house: lamb chops with mashed potatoes and tinned peas, but to the boys it was a sumptuous banquet. Relaxed from a hot bath, something they had not experienced for many months, having to tub up in a bucket, they were drowsy and Shaun Logan suggested they stay the night. ‘We can go to the first-aid post in the morning to see how Bruno is.' The boys didn't argue.

Alice Ferguson performed her now nightly ritual before going to bed. Kneeling beside the bed she placed her elbows on the eiderdown and asked God to protect her boy and bring him home safely. She had never been ‘religious' and didn't attend church but had a belief in God and since Jack had gone, she prayed a simple prayer every night. She found some comfort in believing that God knew where her son was and could see him as she prayed which made her feel closer to Jack. ‘If only I could hold him,' she prayed softly, not wanting to disturb her husband who didn't believe that a god even existed.

Even though they were exhausted, when Jack and Harry went to bed in Father Logan's tiny spare bedroom they found it difficult to sleep as the events of the day whirled through their minds. When Jack closed his eyes he could still see the glare of the lights and the frantic rescue efforts. His hands were bruised and sore from tearing at the rocks and his legs ached so he switched on the light. ‘You awake, Harry?'