The Outback (13 page)

Chapter 16

The wood problem was
finally solved early on Saturday morning when Sam and Paul dropped by with a
large quantity of termite-free timber from their settlement. They explained
that they had no problem in keeping the caravan park stocked right through the
season and that should supplies run low, everyone knew where to ask. It was
agreed by all that to be on the safe side, neither Jonas nor Hiro would be
placed in charge of the campfire again.

Colin, meanwhile, spent
the morning in the library printing off a copy of the pictures that he had of
Rhett’s police file. He suspected that the information he was to garner from
within would serve him in good stead for the duration of his employment
alongside the Australian. He even ran off a print of the mug shot as a
keepsake. It would serve to remind him of the arcane spirit that was lurking
behind the aged exterior of this habitual criminal.

The bulk of the file
yielded few surprises. Rhett had been busted for possession numerous times and
also served a stint in prison for possessing with intent to sell. His most
recent arrest was a little over seven years previous, but the fact he supplied
backpackers with weed and then offered the same to Colin and his friends proved
that he was far from retired.

There was one report
amongst the printouts that predated all others, stretching back thirty years to
when Rhett was in his early twenties. The information that this document
revealed was far more disturbing than anything in the remainder of the file and
Colin decided that it would be best to keep it from the girls in the camp. At
least until he had more of the facts at his disposal.

The Irishman was not at
first sure how best to use the information that he had on the old man. He
supposed that if Rhett were to start and push the drugs more strongly, he had
some leverage in that he now knew of the other man’s past and the threat of
talking to the police could be enough to scare him away. Whatever the case, he
was certain that the rest of the guys should know what their gaffer had been up
to over the years.

***

‘That was a long time ago,
surely you don’t think he could still be a threat to anyone?’ asked Matt.

Colin had the
reproduction mug shot in his hands. The longer he looked into those predatory
eyes, the more he could see the familiar Rhett whom he had worked with each
day. He did not so much think that the Australian had not changed, but more
that the old man was incapable of changing.

‘Probably not, but we
cannot afford to take any chances,’ he replied. ‘The guy’s a career criminal.
If he cannot profit out of us then we are merely a liability to him.’

‘I don’t understand,’
said Matt. ‘Surely you can just choose not to deal with him. It’s not like any
of you are pedalling your own drugs behind his back.’

‘I wish it was that
simple,’ said Colin. ‘Rhett sells weed, and some of us here are smoking a Hell
of a lot of that stuff. He is going to want to see some of that action.’

‘He isn’t losing
anything by that though, is he? You already had a supply when you arrived, so
it’s not like you went behind his back, is it?’

‘That won’t make any
difference. The fact is that both Stephen and Niall here were his customers,
even if they didn’t know it, and now they are getting their fix from me. If he
cannot get the money from us by one means, he may resort to another. He might
threaten to grass us up to the authorities and exhort the cash from us
instead.’

‘This is bullshit.’

‘I agree, but like I
said; we cannot take any chances.’

Colin took a sheet of
paper from his pocket and unfolded it.

‘Before you pass
judgement, you should take a look at this,’ he said. ‘I separated it from the
rest of the file, because I don’t want Rose to see it.’

He handed the piece of
paper over to Matt. The report stated that Rhett had been taken in for
questioning in relation to an allegation of sexual assault. No charges were
brought against the Australian for the crime, but it did bring a worrying new
dimension to his past.

‘Where’s the rest of the
report?’ asked Matt. ‘This is incomplete; it only refers to the allegations not
being pursued. What about the actual interview?’

Colin shrugged.

‘That was all I could
get hold of,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to risk getting caught, but surely that
is enough?’

Matt was not as easily
swayed as his friend.

‘Without proof of a
conviction, this doesn’t mean a thing. Besides, it doesn’t have any bearing on
your current predicament anyway. I doubt that the old git could even get it up,
let alone rape someone. All this report proves is what we already knew. Rhett
is nothing but a small time loser and you would be crazy to let him get to you.’

When the news of Rhett’s
criminal record spread, it surprised nobody and actually served to diminish the
fear that the old man held over the group. With the cloak of mystery removed he
no longer seemed quite so intimidating and the next couple of weeks passed more
easily than the previous.

Time was also proving to
be a healer following the mugging on the day of Paul’s birthday. Just three
weeks on and Rose’s confidence was fully restored. She no longer feared going
into town, although if she ever suggested venturing in alone, Colin would be
quick to forbid it. He did, after all, know of a more serious threat than that
of teenage muggers and he was taking no chances with his girlfriend’s safety.

On the harvest front,
the first field had been cleared and the group was now working on the second.
For Stephen, Niall and the girls, this signalled the halfway point for the time
that they needed to put in for them to qualify for the visa extension. The two
Irishmen were eager to move on, but the girls were reluctant about leaving
their respective beaus; particularly Jenny.

What none of them
realised was that their world was about to change sooner than any one of them
could ever have expected.

Chapter 17

The week did not begin
well. Since moving to the new field the workers were beset with one setback
after another. They were making slower than anticipated progress and this was
largely down to a series of sandstorms that would strike with next to no prior
warning whatsoever.

The common perception of
seasons being divided neatly into spring, summer, autumn and winter had no
bearing at all on how the weather behaved in the outback. Even the simplified
idea of a wet season and a dry season, which commonly applied to Queensland,
proved hopelessly inadequate. In the Aboriginal calendar there were as many as
six distinct weather cycles that were observed.

What the group were
currently experiencing was the windy season. This consisted primarily of a
series of mini tornados, which peppered the landscape. Whilst these scaled down
whirling dervishes were to an actual cyclone what newts were to crocodiles,
they still proved highly disruptive.

The biggest problem
facing the backpackers was in the composition of the terrain. Unlike the first
muddy field that the group had cleared, they were now working in an actual
desert. The loose sand was easily whipped up in the wind and in the space of
less than a minute all visibility could be lost in a cloud of swirling sand.

Sometimes the storms
would blow themselves out within half an hour, but at other times they would
rage long enough to put paid to an entire day’s work. Over the course of the
week two afternoons had to be written off as completely unprofitable. Because
of these wasted days the group were advised that if anymore time was lost they
would have to work the following Saturday.

The early forecast had
not been good for Friday and sure enough, midway between the morning break and
lunch, the weather took a turn for the worse. It always started with a sudden
drop in temperature of roughly ten degrees. When that happened the gang knew
that they had fifteen minutes at best before conditions would become
intolerable, but sometimes the Aboriginal men could pre-empt even that.

After bringing the
tractor to rest, Sam climbed down from the driver’s cab and slowly walked over
to his son. They talked amongst themselves for a few moments before Rhett went
over to intervene. The Australian would not tolerate slacking off of work for
any reason.

‘Why have you stopped?’
he demanded.

‘Storm headed this way,’
answered Sam, in a slow and deep cadence, which exerted a great deal of
authority without being domineering.

Rhett glanced around and
above his head.

‘Looks clear enough to
me,’ he told them. ‘Keep working and if it does come, then we stop only when we
have to.’

The Aboriginal men did
not argue and Sam simply got back into his cab and restarted the tractor. Paul
offered a shrug to the group, indicating that they may as well follow orders.

Everyone knew that it
was not wise to ignore Sam’s instincts and sure enough, not more than three
minutes after they had returned to work, the tell-tale drop in temperature
occurred. As it did so, Jenny shivered.

‘What are we supposed to
do now?’ she asked.

‘The boss says we gotta keep
working, so that is what we have to do,’ answered Paul.

She could tell that he
did not agree with these orders, but he was also powerless to do anything about
it.

‘This is ridiculous,’
she told him. ‘We all know what is about to happen.’

She looked to her
Australian gaffer for any sign of common sense or logic, but he remained
oblivious to the natural warning signs that were all around. A twister formed
not far from where he stood and he even tracked its passage with his eyes, but
said nothing. The first twister was soon joined by others and the sands began
to rise with them. It was less than ten minutes since Sam had predicted a storm
amidst the calm serenity of the field and they were hopelessly trapped in its
ferocious grip. It was a scenario that could so easily and should have been
avoided.

‘Everybody onto the
trailer,’ instructed Sam.

Fortunately the vehicle
bore only a light load and there was room for everyone to safely take shelter
from the surrounding tempest. Rhett was the last to climb aboard and he did not
acknowledge his lack of foresight in not calling off the shift sooner, as Sam
cautiously drove everybody back to the side of the field where the bus was
parked.

Once everyone had
transferred over to the bus, Rhett did not wait for the storm to subside before
heading back to the highway. Nerves were tense as the Australian pulled blindly
onto the road, but visibility did eventually improve as the caravan park was
located well beyond the catchment area of the storm.

***

‘Who wants to go to the
pub?’ asked Colin.

The Irishman was
frustrated that he would be losing his Saturday lie in and was determined to
compensate in the only way he knew how.

‘The Birribandi Tavern?’
replied Rose. ‘Are you certain that is wise? Surely you have heard the rumours.’

The Irishman had a
mischievous glint in his eye, which had previously been lacking due to his
worries over the Rhett situation. He sensed the opportunity to escape from his
troubles, if only for one night.

‘That is precisely why I
want to go,’ he said. ‘Who can resist the thought of this town’s most beautiful
daughters serving cold beer in their undercrackers.’

‘If you are planning on
eyeing up other ladies then I may just have to come along to keep you from
misbehaving,’ said Rose.

The rest of the backpackers
did not require much persuading to join the excursion. After weeks of being
cooped up in the caravan park, everybody was eager to experience a change of
scenery and the timing could not be better. The only person not to go along was
Celeste. She claimed that she wanted to spend more time with Pierro, but some
among the group suspected that the real reason was something different. The
Irishmen, in particular, believed that the Italian was tightening the grip he
had on his young lover and did not want to let her out of his sight.

Since this was to be the
first night out for everyone in several weeks they each made an extra effort
when getting ready. Smart clothes, perfume and aftershave were removed from
backpacks for the first time since being packed. There was to be no taxi
service to the venue though. As usual, they had to walk the dusty road into
town.

It was still early when
they arrived, so they had no trouble in putting two tables together to
accommodate all eight of their bodies. Much to the chagrin of Colin and Matt,
as they went to collect the first round, the bar staff was not only fully
clothed, but entirely male.

‘You two look a little
disappointed,’ Rose commented as the boys returned with the drinks. ‘Is this
place not quite what you were expecting?’

She stole a cheeky
sideways glance to her sister, who was also looking forward to seeing how the
two were going to try and cover up their obvious interest in witnessing the
full delights of Skimpies Night.

‘Why would we be
disappointed?’ asked Colin. ‘This seems like a fine establishment.’

‘How about the staff?’
retorted Rose.

‘They’re capable enough
and pull a decent pint. What more could I ask for?’ he replied.

Matt just shook his head
at the futility of it all. He knew that the girls were just as curious to see
what actually went on at this bar as they were and he therefore saw no point in
denying it as steadfastly as Colin had. Sometimes the Irishman just did not
know when to remain quiet.

The bar filled up as the
evening progressed and in doing so the table drew several curious glances from
the locals. These were mostly directed towards Rose, which unsettled Colin. He
did not find it easy to contain his disdain for such attitudes.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he
exclaimed. ‘You would think that they’d never seen a blonde before.’

‘They probably haven’t,’
replied Stephen, before taking a sip of his Guinness. ‘Peroxide’s a twentieth
century invention. They’re too busy trying to get to grips with those new
fangled mechanical chariots to worry about modern hair dyeing techniques.’

‘Just one minute,’
interrupted Rose. ‘I will have you know that my hair is one hundred percent
natural. There is no peroxide in these locks.’

‘So how come little
sister here has brown hair?’

The Irishman was clearly
gearing up for a bit of mischief.

‘Swedish milkman,’
suggested Niall.

‘Will you two cut that
out,’ she protested. ‘I assure you that I am as naturally blonde as you two are
dumb.’

‘Well, that just proves
my point,’ said Stephen. ‘You see, we weren’t born idiots. It took years of
carefully metered alcohol to reduce our brains cells this much.’

‘He’s telling the
truth,’ added Niall. ‘Our dimwittedness is definitely a product of nurture
rather than nature.’

Rose scowled at them;
her combative countenance demanding an apology.

‘Maybe your man Colin
can settle this,’ suggested Stephen. He then turned to wait for his friend’s
response. ‘Well?’

‘Well what?’ asked
Colin.

‘Is she a natural
blonde? If anybody here is in a position to verify her claim, it is you.’

Colin shifted awkwardly
in his seat. It was not the easiest question for him to answer. He was torn
between joining in with the teasing and being one of the lads, or siding with
his girlfriend in order to stay on her good side. After a short deliberation,
he opted for the latter.

‘A gentleman never
tells,’ was his simple response.

‘Are you thinking what I
am?’ asked Stephen, turning to his partner in crime.

‘I think so,’ replied
Niall. ‘He doesn’t know.’

‘Exactly; I bet she’s a
Sphynx.’

‘What do you mean by
that?’ Rose asked, suspiciously.

‘He means like the cat,’
Colin explained.

‘I don’t get it,’ she
said.

‘Furless,’ the pair
laughed in unison.

‘Are you going to let
them speak to me like that?’ she asked Colin.

The Irishman glanced
towards the exit, plotting his escape route.

‘I’m staying out of this
one,’ he said. ‘Besides which, it’s time that I got some fresh air.’

He nodded to Stephen who
in turn stood up from his seat.

‘Fresh air sounds good
to me too,’ replied Stephen. ‘Are you coming, Niall.’

‘No thanks, I’ve spent enough
time outdoors this week.’

Colin and Stephen
exchanged a brief look of confusion.

‘Are you sure that you
wouldn’t like some
fresh air
?’

Their friend still
failed to cotton on to the implied meaning.

‘I’ve already said that
I’m fine here. Are you two okay?’

They remained standing,
not quite sure what action to take next, but they were soon to be given
assistance from across the table.

‘For Christ’s sake,
Niall, will you not just go outside with your buddies and smoke a joint with
them!’ shouted Jenny.

She had started to
loosen up considerably since getting together with Matt and was showing a much
less inhibited side to her character, especially after a glass of wine. Colin
hid his face in embarrassment, but luckily for him none of the locals picked up
on the girl’s unwitting testimony.

‘Why don’t you climb up
on the bar and announce it next time,’ he said.

Suddenly aware of her
gaffe, Jenny tried hard to suppress a giggle.

‘Sorry, I didn’t
realise,’ she timidly offered.

‘Well, try and be more
subtle next time. For all we know there could be friends of Joe within earshot
or even worse - Shawshank.’

At once everyone started
to look around, nervously, just in case the old man had slipped into the bar
without them knowing. The backpackers shared many common bonds and a dread of
their belligerent foreman was just one of them. Even in his absence the
Australian projected a foreboding shadow wherever his name was mentioned.

Seeing that the coast
was clear the three Irishmen departed to go and enjoy their smoke whilst Jonas
exhibited a restlessness of a different sort. Jenny noticed that he had been
eyeing up a pair of girls by the bar for some time. She urged him to make a
move.

‘Go and introduce
yourself,’ she said. ‘I bet they’ll just love your accent.’

‘Do you really think?’

‘Of course, just do not
overdo it.’

‘What she means is try
not to be
too
German,’ added Matt.

‘
Too
German?’

He was puzzled.

‘Don’t listen to him,’
said Jenny. ‘Just be yourself; trust me.’

‘Wish me luck,’ he said,
before leaving in the direction of the girls at the bar.