The Forgotten Pearl (4 page)

Mrs Murata delivered the linen basket to Daisy in the kitchen and bowed goodbye to Poppy.

‘
Sayonara
, Miss Poppy.'

Poppy returned the salutation and then raided the bread
box, taking a heel of stale bread and stuffing it in her pocket.

‘Here's your picnic lunch, Miss Poppy,' said Daisy. ‘I made enough to keep even you from being hungry – beef and tomato sandwiches, lemon cake and paw-paw.'

Poppy gave Daisy a quick hug. ‘Thanks, Daisy. You're wonderful.'

Poppy picked up a laden picnic basket from the table and ran next door to collect Maude. From the kitchen doorway, she was watched by the little girl Shinju.

‘Have you got your bathers on?' Poppy asked Maude. ‘Daisy has packed us a picnic to have down at Kahlin Bay. I can't wait to go swimming – it's so hot.'

‘There aren't any crocodiles at Kahlin Bay, are there?' asked Maude, jumping down the steps with her towel over her shoulder.

‘No, you silly,' replied Poppy, ‘but there are lots of fish. I've brought some stale bread so we can feed them. The mullet and catfish take the bread straight from your fingers.'

The girls ran along the rutted track, between the palm trees, down to the bay.

The track suddenly opened out, revealing a stunning vista over the turquoise sea south-west towards Darwin port.

‘Wow,' said Maude, ‘it's gorgeous.'

‘It's gorgeous now at high tide, but at low tide the water drops about twenty feet so you can walk out on the mud-flats for miles. It's good then for mud-crabbing
and gathering oysters, but you have to be careful because the tide rushes in again super-fast, which can be really dangerous if you're not watching.'

Maude shaded her eyes and looked to the north.

‘Race you in!' challenged Poppy.

Dropping the picnic basket and towel on the sand, Poppy dragged her dress over her head, kicked off her shoes and sprinted to the water. Maude was only seconds behind, squealing in delight.

The water was cool and silky against their skin, washing away the clinging fug of the tropical heat.

Maude was an excellent swimmer and struck out for the deeper water. Poppy gave chase, grabbing Maude by the ankle. Maude tried to kick free but Poppy was too strong. The two girls paused momentarily, treading water and laughing.

‘Where did you learn to swim like that?' asked Poppy, releasing Maude's ankle. ‘I thought you were a city slicker!'

Maude floated on her back, lapped by the gentle swell, closing her eyes to the sun.

‘In Sydney, we live right near the beach at Manly. We swim all the time – but there we don't need to worry about man-eating crocodiles or poisonous jellyfish!'

Poppy grabbed Maude's ankle again, dragging her under. Maude spluttered to the surface.

‘The crocs mostly stick to the rivers, and it's a bit early for box jellyfish, but did I tell you about the sharks?' cried Poppy, glancing around with a worried frown. Maude's head jerked around, searching for fins.

Poppy splashed her. ‘Only kidding!'

Poppy glanced back towards the shore, where something unexpected caught her eye: a dark shape breaking the water, then disappearing. Poppy frowned. The dark shadow broke the surface again, then subsided, sinking without a trace.

Without pausing to explain, Poppy raced towards the beach, showering Maude with a powerful kick. Maude waited a moment, then chased after her friend.

Close to shore, Poppy dived under water momentarily, then her sleek, dark head reappeared. She dived again and again. Poppy resurfaced with a gasp, flipped on her back and swam to shore, hugging something to her chest with one arm. She kicked urgently, powering to the beach.

By the time Maude reached the sand, Poppy had dragged a small, limp body from the water.

‘Hello, can you hear me?' Poppy begged, squeezing the child's hand. ‘Are you all right?'

Poppy took a few seconds, checking for breath and a pulse.

It was a child – a girl about five years old – and she wasn't breathing. Poppy ran her fingers through the girl's mouth, searching for any obstructions, such as seaweed or mud. Poppy thought back to the resuscitation instructions her parents had taught her. First, she lifted the girl by the waist to drain the seawater from her throat.

Then she lay the girl face-down on the sand, head resting on her forearm. Poppy straddled the limp body, placing both of her own hands in the middle of the girl's back, then concentrated on rocking herself back and forth, pushing all her weight down on the patient and then releas
ing rhythmically.

Poppy could feel the panic welling up inside her.
The girl might die!
What if I can't save her? What if I'm pushing too hard or not hard enough? Why isn't Mum here?

Poppy took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm.

Focus,
Poppy told herself sternly
. Okay, breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

‘What are you doing, Poppy?' demanded Maude, panicking.

‘She's not breathing, Maude,' replied Poppy, continuing to rock back and forth on her palms. ‘I'm pushing the air out of her lungs with my weight, then releasing the lungs so they can drag in air. My father taught me how to do it – the Schaefer method.'

‘Is it working?' asked Maude.

‘I don't know,' admitted Poppy. ‘Mum says it can take hours – sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.'

‘Is there something I can do?'

‘Get help,' gasped Poppy, continuing her rhythmic pumping. ‘Get my mum.'

Maude picked up her towel and sprinted up the beach.

‘Shinju!' screamed a voice from the path. ‘Shinju!'

Mrs Murata ran down the beach, her face creased in fear. Poppy paused to check the girl's chest – nothing. Maude stopped and turned back towards them all, reluctant to leave.

Mrs Murata collapsed in the sand beside the inert body. Poppy kept rocking, forcing air into Shinju's lungs.

‘Poppy pulled her from the water –' Maude began to explain.

‘Doctor Trehearne,' Mrs Murata gasped, clutching at her shirt, tears rolling down her face. ‘We need Doctor Trehearne.'

‘I'm on my way,' Maude assured her. She took off again, her feet kicking up puffs of soft sand as she raced towards the path to Myilly Point.

Poppy continued rocking back and forth for a few more minutes when suddenly Shinju began to choke and splutter, coughing up seawater. She took a huge gulp of air, then started to wail.

By the time Maude returned with Cecilia, Mrs Murata was cuddling a wet, bedraggled Shinju to her chest, alternately kissing and murmuring to her in Japanese. Poppy was sitting beside them, shivering with shock despite the oppressive heat.

‘Well done, Poppy,' murmured Cecilia, stroking a strand of Poppy's wet hair off her face.

Poppy smiled wanly, relief and horror flooding through her in equal measure.
I saved her. Shinju's alive, but it was so close. I thought she was going to die.

Cecilia checked Shinju over carefully, checking her pupils, pulse rate and breathing, then helped Mrs Murata carry Shinju back to the house. Maude carried the still-full picnic basket, while Poppy trailed behind, her legs wobbly beneath her.

3

The Dragon Pearl

Back at the house, Shinju was given a warm bath and dressed in one of Poppy's old cotton nightgowns, which was far too big for her. Poppy thought she looked like an exquisite porcelain doll, with her pale complexion and lustrous black hair. Shinju was then propped up on the sofa and fed bread and milk.

The others gathered around to drink restorative tea and eat Daisy's famous lemon cake.

‘Thank you, Miss Poppy,' said Mrs Murata solemnly. ‘You saved Shinju's life. You're very brave.'

She took Poppy's hand and pressed it warmly.

Poppy shook her head.

‘I didn't see her go,' confessed Mrs Murata. ‘I sorted the linen with Daisy and collected the dirty washing, and all the time I thought Shinju was playing with little Charlie. When I turned around, she was gone. Daisy and I called out everywhere, then Daisy remembered you and Miss
Maude had gone down to the bay for a swim, and perhaps she had followed you.

‘When I ran onto the beach and saw her lying there . . . I thought . . . I thought . . . I have seen too many people taken by the sea.' Mrs Murata bowed her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Cecilia took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Everything's all right,' she murmured. ‘Shinju is safe. It was a miracle that Poppy saw her when she did.'

Poppy sat silently with her thoughts.
What if I hadn't seen her? What if I'd turned around just a minute later? Shinju could be dead . . .

‘I didn't notice her,' Maude admitted. ‘Poppy and I were quite far out, then Poppy just started racing for the shore. I thought she'd seen a shark. Then I turned around and saw a splash and a small black head sinking under the water. It wasn't until I saw Mrs Murata calling that I realised it was Shinju.'

Everyone turned and smiled at the little girl, looking so old-fashioned in her oversized nightgown.

Shinju smiled at Poppy. ‘
Arigato
,' she said, her voice croaky and hoarse.

‘
Dou itashi mashite
,' replied Poppy, taking a sip of tea, its warmth spreading through her, making her feel strong again. ‘It was my pleasure.'

The next morning, Poppy was feeding the hens in the chookyard when she heard Daisy calling her name. She wandered back to the house and found Mrs Murata waiting
in the shade of the verandah.

‘
Ohayou gozaimasu, Murata-san
,' called Poppy, climbing the steps to the verandah.

‘
Ohayou gozaimasu
,' replied Mrs Murata with a bow. ‘Miss Poppy, I have come to formally thank you for saving my granddaughter yesterday.'

Poppy flushed with embarrassment. ‘Oh no, Mrs Murata, it was nothing, really. It was just lucky that I saw her.'

‘Miss Poppy, it means a great deal; our Shinju is very precious to us. She is the third generation of our family to be born in this country.'

Mrs Murata sat down in a wicker chair on the verandah. Poppy sat down in the chair opposite.

‘I have brought you something as a token of our thanks – from my son Oshiro and my daughter-in-law Masuko.'

From her pocket, Mrs Murata pulled out a delicate red silk bag embroidered with pale-pink flowers. She offered the bag reverently to Poppy with both hands.

‘No – I couldn't . . . I mean . . . you mustn't . . . you don't need to give me anything – I was just happy I could help,' spluttered Poppy.

‘My family would be honoured if you would accept this gift, Miss Poppy,' insisted Mrs Murata, still holding out the bag. ‘It would hurt Shinju if you did not accept our thanks.'

Poppy swallowed.
What would Mum want me to do
?

Poppy smiled at Mrs Murata and took the tiny bag. She loosened the ribbon and opened the mouth.

A teardrop pearl rolled from the bag onto her palm, trailing a fine gold chain.

‘Oooohh,' sighed Poppy. ‘It's beautiful, but I can't.'

‘My son Oshiro found the pearl just before Shinju was born,' explained Mrs Murata. ‘It is a teardrop – an angel's tear.'

Mrs Murata closed her own hand over Poppy's, encasing the pearl.

‘Pearls are the jewel of good fortune,' explained Mrs Murata. ‘It is the jewel of wisdom, wealth and healing – but most of all, pearls have the power to keep children safe. The pearl helped you keep Shinju safe, so now it is yours, to keep you safe.'

Poppy didn't know what to say.

Mrs Murata patted her hand. ‘Pearls are the essence of the Moon Goddess, which have fallen to earth as tears and lie forgotten under the sea.' Mrs Murata had adopted a sing-song storyteller's tone. ‘These forgotten tears, with their supernatural powers, are the most prized possession of the sea gods and water spirits.'

Poppy stroked the perfect smoothness of the jewel.

Mrs Murata stared out over the garden to the distant Arafura Sea and continued her story. ‘Ryo-jin, the noble and wise dragon-king of the sea people, lived in a beautiful palace of crystal and coral, built deep under the ocean. There he lived with his dragon-queen and his daughters, the Naga maidens, who were half-human and half-serpent. His greatest treasure was the Pearl Which Grants All Desires, which he wore around his neck when he flew. This treasure was guarded by the Naga maidens.

‘One day the Naga maidens, frightened by a great fire-dragon, lost the pearl, and though Ryo-jin searched far and wide for the treasure, he could not find it. For many years,
the great pearl lay forgotten under the sea, until one day it was found by a young man called Hoori. He soon married his heart's desire – the Pearl Princess Toyotama-hime, the daughter of the Ryo-jin, and they lived happily for many years.

‘Hoori was very happy because his wife, the Pearl Princess, was expecting their first child. Toyotama-hime sent Hoori from the house and ordered him not to watch while she gave birth. Of course Hoori, being a man, was overcome by curiosity and could not help peeking through a crack in the wall. To his great horror, he saw that at the moment of birth his wife transformed into a great dragon. Hoori was terrified and ran away, while the Pearl Princess, devastated by her husband's betrayal, fled back to her father's coral palace under the ocean. Sick with remorse, Hoori was doomed to dive to the bottom of the ocean floor forever more, facing sharks and serpents and dragons, searching for the pearl tears shed by his beloved.'

Mrs Murata stopped, still staring dreamily out to sea as though she expected to see a great dragon swooping over the waves, breathing fire.

‘That's a beautiful story, Mrs Murata,' said Cecilia, who had appeared unnoticed in the doorway. ‘And it is a precious gift you have given Poppy. Thank you and your family so much – Poppy will always treasure her pearl and remember what it means.'

Poppy opened her hand and gazed at the luminous pearl. It gleamed pale-golden in the sunlight.

‘Would you like Mrs Murata to help you put it on, Poppy?' Cecilia asked.

Poppy nodded and Mrs Murata draped the chain
around her neck, fastening the delicate catch. The pearl nestled, cool and pale and magical, against her skin – a mystical jewel of protection.

‘
Arigato, Murata-san
,' murmured Poppy, twisting the pearl in her fingers. ‘It is beautiful.'

‘Shinju would love you to come visit us one day and have tea,' offered Mrs Murata. ‘Perhaps your friend Maude would like to come as well?'

‘I would love to,' replied Poppy. ‘I'm sure Maude would enjoy it, too.'

‘
Arigato
.'

The streets of Darwin were crowded in the cool morning air. Bicycles jostled for space beside horsedrawn carts, pedestrians and the occasional car on unsealed roads. Since the war had begun, petrol was rationed, so many people had garaged their cars and turned to other transportation. As a doctor, Poppy's father had greater access to fuel so he could still use the family car to do his rounds.

The crowds of people swarming the pavement were a striking mixture of colours, cultures and races. Chinese shopkeepers arranged their shining piles of fruit and vegetables. Japanese pearl divers and Malay crewmen mingled with Greek fishermen and Aboriginal stockmen.

On the appointed day, Cecilia dropped Poppy and Maude outside the ramshackle house where the Murata family lived, four generations under one roof.

It was a typical Darwin house, built of timber. Two small rooms were surrounded by a wide verandah where
most of the family slept on mattresses, which they rolled away during the day.

Mrs Murata met them at the front door. Instead of her usual Western clothes, she was dressed in an elaborate kimono of pale-green silk with long, trailing sleeves. The kimono was intricately detailed with embroidered flowers. A wide obi sash was gathered at the back into a stiff knot and she wore white split-toed socks on her feet. Her white hair was piled on top of her head. The traditional dress made her look far more graceful and exotic than her usual work clothes.

‘
Ohayou gozaimasu
,
Miss Poppy and Miss Maude,' greeted Mrs Murata with a deep bow to each of them.

‘
Ohayou gozaimasu, Murata-san
,' replied Poppy.
‘You look so elegant, Mrs Murata. I love your kimono.'

She smiled, acknowledging the compliment. ‘European dress is much more practical for everyday wear and easier to wash, but we do like to wear traditional kimonos for special occasions.'

She indicated a neat row of shoes by the door.

‘We always take our shoes off when we come inside the house,' explained Mrs Murata. ‘You may wear some of those house slippers. Come in when you're ready. I'll go and fetch the tea.'

While the girls took off their shoes and put slippers on, Maude whispered to Poppy.

‘I didn't know you spoke Japanese. What does it mean? How did you learn?'

‘
Ohayou gozaimasu
,
means “good morning”, and Murata-san is just a term of respect like “Mrs Murata”,' Poppy translated. ‘I don't speak a lot of Japanese, but I've
learnt a few phrases from all the Japanese people I've met over the years. I can speak some Mandarin as well.

‘Lots of people speak different languages up here. Dad says Darwin is really more a part of Asia than Australia. There are far more Aboriginals, Chinese, Malays and Japanese people up here than white Australians, like us.'

The girls struggled to find slippers big enough for their feet, which gave them the giggles. The Japanese women obviously had tiny feet.

Inside, the house was simple and uncluttered, with little sign that so many people lived there. There were straw tatami mats on the floor, and Mrs Murata ushered the girls towards a number of cushions scattered around the low table in the centre of the room. On the walls were parchments, decorated with paintings of fish, flowers and Japanese characters in thick black calligraphy.

Shinju was also dressed in a tiny pink kimono, long sleeves nearly to the ground, which made her look even more like a porcelain doll. She bowed elaborately and greeted the girls in Japanese. Shinju looked completely different from the small, limp child that Poppy had rescued from the sea.