Jack & Harry (6 page)

‘See!' He held his fist aloft with a wad of notes in it. ‘I'm a lot of things but not a thief, boys. I've got your money … oh, I mean your dad's money!' He emphasised the word
‘
dad's'
.
‘Now about that commission.' He fixed them with a steely gaze. ‘I reckon ten bob'd be fair.'

‘His dad said five bob,' Harry quickly replied.

‘Well then, I'm sure that if I took the money to his dad that he'd give me ten bob. Where do you live, son?' He turned to Jack. ‘I'll come home with you to make sure your dad gets the money and you two don't spend any of it on the way.'

‘No! No, mister! He's really sick and can't see anyone.' Jack was desperate now. ‘What he's got is, is … ahh,
contagious,'
he added. ‘You could catch it too. I'm sure he'd agree to ten bob wouldn't he, Harry?'

Harry looked crestfallen but nodded agreement.

‘OK then, here you are.' The man peeled off a ten shilling note from the wad and placed the rest of the money in Jack's outstretched hand. Without another word he turned and weaved his way back inside the bar with his new found wealth.

‘Gee, Jack, how much we got?'

‘A fortune,' Jack laughed. ‘Let's go count it, Harry.'

Down at the creek the two boys excitedly counted the money, three times, just to be certain they were right. ‘Twelve pound, ten shillings plus the bit of change we had over.'

‘OK. You still want to do this, Harry?' Jack looked at his friend suddenly. “You know … run away?'

Both boys stopped smiling as the significance of the moment hit them. It was now decision time. Up to this moment it had all seemed like a bit of a game but now they had the money and they glanced at the packs holding their clothes that they had sneaked out that morning and hidden by the river, the seriousness of their actions made them uneasy.

‘Nothin' else we can do, Jack.'

‘Guess not, Harry. We'll be OK, it's just Mum and Dad I'm worried about.'

‘Me too, Jack. My folks are gonna to be mad as hell … and worried sick.'

‘We'll send 'em a note down the track in a couple of days, Harry. Then they can stop worrying.'

They stood, picked up their bags and glanced around to make sure they hadn't left anything behind.

‘Let's go then.' They shook hands to seal the deal and walked purposefully from the river toward their new life on the run from the law.

The snub-nosed Commer truck laboured up the hill as the driver changed down a gear. It was cramped in the cabin with the smell of exhaust fumes that made the two boys a little queasy in the stomach.

The boys feigned sleep, not wanting to engage in too much conversation with the driver in case they gave an answer to one of his conversational questions that made him suspicious of their motives for wanting a lift to Northam.

It had been relatively easy to get the ride on the milk truck from Perth to Northam. The boys knew that the truck left each afternoon loaded with bulk milk in 20-gallon cans and crates of bottles for delivery to the dairy in Northam.

After leaving the creek they had gone to where Mr Bodini, the milk cart driver was loading up for the trip. They both figured that it would be a remote chance that their parents would check the dairy, as they wouldn't know which way they had planned to head and Mr Bodini wouldn't normally run into their parents. There was a possibility he could mention it to his friend Eric Chambers but that was a risk they would have to take. They would be far gone anyway by the time that happened … if it did.

Jack had walked up and introduced himself. ‘Mr Bodini?'

‘Yes, what can I do for you?' The man had paused, a crate of milk bottles in his grip.

‘My dad's name is Jack Ferguson. I think you know of him don't you, he's a friend of Eric Chambers?'

‘Yeah, I know Eric well and I've met your father a couple of times.' He had then glanced at Harry. ‘Who's this then?'

‘Harry Turner.' Harry hadn't reached out to shake the man's hand as he was still holding the milk crate.

‘My dad's a stock and station agent with Elders,' Jack had explained. ‘He's up at the sale yards in Northam buying some cattle and said if we could get a lift up after school we could meet him and he'd show us around a bit and then bring us home. Any chance we could get a lift with you … Dad suggested we ask?'

Bodini had thought for a second then agreed, telling them he would be leaving in about an hour and if they wanted a lift they would have to be at the depot right on time as he couldn't wait due to his timetable.

The boys had then gone down the street and bought a hot dog and some lollies for the trip to Northam.

‘Maybe we should buy some new gear for the trip, Jack; we got plenty.'

‘This is travellin' money, Harry,' Jack had said. ‘But we have to eat. When we get an idea of how long it'll last then we'll look at some gear for us but for now let's be real careful with it. It's gotta last.'

They had eaten their hot dogs, a real treat for them, and then made their way back to the depot to make sure they didn't miss the truck and their ride to freedom.

‘Right on time, boys.' Bodini had indicated the truck. ‘Climb aboard and make yourselves comfortable; we'll be off in a minute or two.'

After checking the load for a final time Bodini had climbed into the driver's seat, turned the key, pressed the starter and when the motor had fired he warmed it for a couple of minutes before driving from the yard onto the road heading to Northam.

‘On our way, lads!'

Both boys glanced at each other and settled back quietly in the cramped cabin.

Gus Bodini had driven this route many times alone so fortunately for Jack and Harry he didn't feel the need to talk much as he was not used to conversation as he drove. He whistled quietly to himself as the truck wound its way through Midland and slowly up through the Darling Ranges, Bodini expertly working the gears to keep the power on up the hills.

‘Should make good time,' he said as Jack stirred. ‘Not much traffic on the road today.'

‘Why's that, Mr Bodini?'

‘Cup day. Lot of people stay home or go to the pub, take the day off work.'

‘Cup day?'

‘Yeah, don't tell me you don't know about the Melbourne Cup. I thought everyone knew about it.' Bodini sounded incredulous.

‘Oh, I know about the Cup, just didn't know it was on today that's all.' Jack nudged Harry. ‘Did we, Harry?' Harry murmured and pretended he was still asleep. He didn't like the way the conversation was headed.

‘Come to think of it, Jack, I'm surprised your dad is out buying today, didn't think anyone'd be doing much.'

‘Who won, Mr Bodini?' Jack quickly steered the conversation away. ‘The cup?'

‘Comic Court. Amazing! Long shot it was, not many picked it. Beat Chiquita. Wished I'd put me money on it, paid a good dividend.'

‘Country looks pretty dry up this way.' Jack changed the subject completely, his mouth as dry with nervousness as the land looked.

‘Hmm, could do with some rain.' Bodini glanced at the brown paddocks as they slipped by the truck window. ‘You boys seen the swans up in Northam?'

‘Seen plenty of swans haven't we, Harry?' Jack nudged Harry more firmly in the ribs needing some support in the conversation.

‘Plenty of swans, yeah,' Harry mumbled.

‘These are white swans, have you seen white swans?'

‘White swans! Come on Mr Bodini, you're pullin' our legs.'

‘No I'm not,' he laughed. ‘White swans on the Avon River. You can feed 'em if you've got some bread, very tame they are. You can almost pat 'em but sometimes you've got to be careful 'cause some of them get a bit nasty. You could maybe see 'em while you wait for your dad to finish his business at the saleyards.'

‘That sounds like a good idea, we'll tell him first though.' Harry at last joined the conversation. ‘Don't want your dad worrying that we didn't get to Northam, Jack, eh?'

‘I stop out of town a bit, boys. If you hang on I can maybe find someone heading into town and they could drop you off at the saleyards.' Bodini liked the boys and thought he would help them get to Jack's father without having to waste time walking the rest of the way.

‘That's OK, Mr Bodini.' Jack was concerned. ‘We can walk, be good for us and you've done enough already.'

‘No trouble really but if you want to walk then it won't take you too long. Been here before … to Northam?'

‘Only once, drove through it with Dad.'

‘Well if you head down this street …' Bodini braked the truck to a stop outside the dairy depot, pointing through the windscreen. ‘Three streets down you turn right and go down a ways and you'll see the saleyards.'

‘Thanks, Mr Bodini, we really appreciate the lift.'

‘Yeah, thanks a lot it's been great.' Harry climbed from the cab followed quickly by Jack.

‘Have a good day, boys and don't forget to have a look at those swans if you get time. Say hello to your dad for me, Jack.' He put the truck in motion and waved as he entered the depot yard.

Bodini thought to himself what well-mannered kids they were. Not for one minute did he suspect that they were lying about meeting Jack Ferguson at the saleyards. He sounded the truck's horn in farewell to the boys as he watched them walk down the road, bags slung over their shoulders.

‘Stage one, Harry, we made it to Northam.' ‘Where to now, Jack?'

‘Let's find the railway station. We can buy two tickets to Kalgoorlie.'

Their tickets purchased on the ‘Kalgoorlie Miner', an overnight steam train that ran from Perth to Kalgoorlie, they checked the departure time with the stationmaster then stowed the tickets safely in their bags.

‘We gotta bit of time, Harry, let's see if those white swans are real or not.'

Finding a bakery they bought a small loaf of bread and two large poppy seed rolls then, passing a fish and chip shop, purchased sixpence worth of chips that the shop assistant, a pretty dark haired girl with vibrant green eyes, wrapped in newspaper.

Down at the river they saw that indeed Mr Bodini was right, there
were
white swans. The boys had never seen them before and commented that they seemed more graceful than the black ones. They broke off pieces of bread and threw it out for the swans and laughed as a number of black ducks darted in to get their share, flapping out of the way of the swan's savage beaks as they fought for the soggy morsels.

‘Wonder if there are yabbies in here, Jack?'

‘Sure to be although it's runnin' a bit faster than the creek at home.'

Harry glanced at Jack when he mentioned
home.
‘Probably perch and yellowbellies, though.' Jack missed Harry's look.

‘Pity we haven't got time to throw a line in, a good feed of yellowbelly'd be good, eh?'

‘We didn't bring any fishing gear, Harry, and where would we cook 'em. Can't take a fish on the train,' he laughed.

Both boys then sat down on the riverbank, tore the rolls in half and crammed the hot chips into them. ‘Be good if we had some butter,' Harry mumbled through a mouthful of chips and bread.

‘Yeah, we always have butter with them at home.' Jack fell silent as the reality of their seeing home again for a very long time sunk in.

‘Wonder if they know we've gone yet?' Harry looked gloomy as his thoughts drifted back to home and his parents.

‘Don't know, Harry.' Jack stared into space, consumed by his own thoughts.

Panic began to grip Alice Ferguson. It was almost six o'clock and young Jack wasn't home from school. She had even gone down to the river to search for them as she knew they spent every moment they could down by ‘The Creek' as they called it. There was a favourite spot that the boys thought nobody knew about but of course they were wrong and Alice looked for them there. She asked some other children that were fishing if they knew Jack or Harry and if they had seen them or anyone like them down by the river.

Her searching was fruitless and her enquiries drew blank responses so she went to Jean and Claude Turner's house. She had telephoned them earlier but the boys were not there, but she thought they might have turned up by now and she might have missed them somewhere on the way.

They were not at the Turners' and Jean was beside herself with worry although Claude seemed to be less concerned. ‘Boys will be boys; they'll turn up sooner or later,' he said.

The two mothers sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea as they wondered where their sons might be. Jean had freshly baked scones on a plate but neither woman ate anything. ‘They've never done anything like this before, Jean.'

‘No, they're always pretty much on time, maybe a half hour or so late but now it's almost three hours and still no sign of them.'