Absolution Creek (64 page)

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Authors: Nicole Alexander

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BOOK: Absolution Creek
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Cora opened her eyes to the sting of rain and a coldness that ate at her bones. The shivering had started some time ago, and although it initially helped to warm her now it made no difference. It was her leg that hurt the most. Horse’s dead weight was like a rock sinking into flesh and bone. The only positive element to Cora’s predicament was the heat of Horse’s body, which succeeded in providing some warmth. When the rain eased a touch, she hooked her fingers around the saddle, quickly retrieving her dry sweater from the saddlebag. Stripping off she re-dressed with the dry sweater next to her skin.

Why had no one come looking for her? Even if Sam didn’t understand the vagaries of the weather, Kendal did. He may not like her much but the kid did have a bit of decency in him. Unless – Cora gave a choke of understanding – unless what she’d battled all her life was finally winning. She knew what everyone thought: Cora Hamilton didn’t have a right to be on Absolution; didn’t have a right to hold land or employ white people like she was one of them, or poke her head above the trees by purchasing Montgomery 201. In fact, Cora Hamilton didn’t have any rights at all, for she was of Aboriginal descent, living in a country that believed Aboriginal children would be better off being cared for by Church Missions or the like, and such prejudice was an act of parliament.

Cora wrapped her fingers more securely under Horse’s saddle. How easy for all involved simply to forget, to let the rain wash away the stain she made on their lives. It was only fate that saved her instead of her dear brother, Ben, only the enigma of her earlier life that allowed her to exist on Absolution Creek in her own right, on her own terms. Yet such a life was couched in solitude and reflection, and while people were wary of her, Cora was not immune to their glances and snickers. What was worse, there was every reason to be afraid. For it was true – if she lost Absolution – she would have nowhere to go.

Not that it probably mattered now.

Cora listened to the creek growing in strength, heard the telltale whoosh of water. She thought of the pistol at her waist and wondered if she had within her the strength to cause her own death. Her heart fluttered. It fell and rose, became sporadic in its beat. All her life the memory of being swept down the creek to Absolution had tainted her dreams. Now it seemed all too likely that the force that had carried her to Jack Manning, to safety, was returning to take her away again.

If she was lucky the water would come quickly, dragging her under with Horse, her useless leg flailing in the current. If it came slowly . . . at the thought Cora nearly passed out from the terror.

Dog started howling at dawn and didn’t draw breath until Scrubber cuffed him on the side of the head. It was hard going for everyone and he never had taken to whingers. They’d already lost one horse during the night. Petal, always the least interesting of the girls to Scrubber’s mind, simply stopped walking around midnight and wouldn’t budge. Not in the mood to fight a woman’s contrariness, he slipped the bridal from her obstinate head, counting on Petal to trot on. It didn’t happen. The last Scrubber saw of the bay mare she was standing in the downpour and was quickly enveloped by darkness.

Tapping Samsara’s flanks, Scrubber angled through a stand of stringybarks and across fallen timber until they were back trailing the creek through the drizzle. Great watery lakes filled every hollow and swamp to spread across the landscape. In places it drained down the eroded banks back into the creek, which although fast moving was yet to overrun the sandy waterway – a good sign at least.

Scrubber slid down into calf-deep water and let Dog off Veronica’s back for a stretch and a pee. He didn’t figure the storm being finished yet. The wind had dropped and there was still no birdsong. He chewed on a piece of bread from the loaf purchased at the hotel, washed it down with water, and then offered some to Dog. The mutt gulped at it, begged a bit more and then drank from Scrubber’s sodden hat.

‘Now are you right?’ Stupid question, Scrubber decided. The water was part-way up Dog’s body and he didn’t complain when he was sitting atop Samsara again. ‘Righto, Veronica, we’re on the homeward bound. It’s up to you. Now be careful where you’re walking, girl, there’s hollows and such like about and we don’t want you going down.’ The mare didn’t look that certain, though she took his weight without complaint when he bustled up quickly to escape a black snake gliding across the water’s surface. The snake headed straight for Samsara.

‘Damn and blast.’ Scrubber reached for his rifle as Samsara reared upwards in fright. Dog slipped off and into the water. Deciding the rifle would be of little use, Scrubber slid from the saddle and splashed through the water as the snake veered off in Dog’s direction. ‘I don’t bloody think so,’ Scrubber roared, wading forward. The snake, momentarily confused by the rippling surface, halted. Scrubber lunged and grabbed the slithering creature near its head, then smashed it against the trunk of a tree. Blood splattered the rough bark. The snake plopped lifeless into the water.

‘Let’s go,’ he panted heavily, as a familiar pain ripped through a body beginning to fold. Staggering back to the horses, Scrubber lifted Dog up onto Samsara’s back and mounted Veronica. Dog let out a stringy bark.

‘Save the thanks for later,’ Scrubber mumbled. ‘We haven’t got there yet.’

Chapter 54
Absolution Creek, 1965

M
eg tucked the blankets around Kendal. His forehead was hot, his skin flushed. Hollows of black underlined his eyes and with the slightest of movements a moan would escape his lips. Bex powders were the only medicine Meg could offer and she doubted their effectiveness. Kendal, awake intermittently throughout the night, complained of nausea, shivering and pain. All Meg could do was apologise, finally offering the last of Cora’s hidden rum to help ward off his misery. At least now he was asleep. Closing the door Meg checked on the twins. They too spent part of the night awake. Jazzed up by the leaking house, the fierce storm and Kendal’s misfortune, sleep finally came amid tears and tantrums. They lay top-to-toe in one of the single beds, a vision of fanning hair and small hands and feet. Meg left them to their dreams.

The veranda was soaked from the rain. Out near the dam an inland sea appeared to have engulfed them overnight. Water surrounded them. It gurgled down the drainpipes, overflowed gutters and was still spilling into the house as it trickled through holes and gaps in the iron roof to track strutting and beams. Finally it seeped through the joins in the pressed metal ceilings or crept down walls. Meg peered through the clingy wet gauze. There was no sound except that of water: dripping, trickling, seeping, flowing water. Although the rain was now only a drizzle, the clouds were still thick with moisture. She guessed she would have to go back to the kitchen, to Sam. It was all she could do not to cry, both for the state of her marriage and her lost aunt. Why hadn’t she pushed Sam to try to do more to find Cora last night, instead of slinking away in shame?

In the kitchen Sam fiddled with the radio, a screwdriver in one hand, a scatter of broken parts on the table. Meg checked on Tripod. Much to Sam’s annoyance she’d bundled Cora’s dog up, settling him in a dry corner of the kitchen. Apart from the occasional whine, Tripod made little noise, however he was still alive.

‘Any luck?’ Meg asked brightly. One of them needed to attempt a reconciliation.

‘What do you think?’ Sam didn’t look up from his task.

‘Hey, I didn’t break it,’ Meg snapped. They’d slept in separate rooms last night. She with the twins and Sam on a mattress in the kitchen. ‘There’s more rain coming.’

‘You think?’

Meg rinsed her empty coffee cup in the sink, her teeth grinding. ‘Lose the attitude, Sam.’

He flung the screwdriver across the room. ‘And why the hell should I? That first week we were here I told you this was the wrong decision.’

‘A few nights ago you were telling me how much you were enjoying working here.’

Sam glowered.

‘Well, you were. Don’t blame me for the mess we’re in now. I wasn’t the one who had the fight with Kendal or refused to go and look for Cora.’

‘We should have packed up and headed back to Sydney. Talk about being deceived. You’ve got a ripping family, Meg.’

‘And like you had anything better to offer. No job, the drinking and fighting, leaning on me all the time and then abusing me when my attempts at trying to better our position in life aren’t perfect.’

Sam piled the radio parts on the table. ‘Well, I can understand why you would want to do that at least.’

‘That’s an unkind thing to say.’

Sam shifted in his chair and threw an arm over the back of it. ‘I’ve been outside,’ he said quietly. ‘There’s water everywhere. We’ve got about two days’ wood left for the fire if we’re careful. Food?’

Meg tucked sleep-ruffled hair behind her ears. ‘We can make do for a week. There’s a heap of tinned goods in the pantry.’

‘Kendal?’

‘He’ll survive. What about Cora?’

‘I don’t see there’s much that I can do for her. Have you seen the water out there? A horse might be fine out in it but I haven’t had the experience.’

And the one who has
, Meg thought with annoyance,
is laid up in bed, thanks to you
. She picked up the telephone.

‘I’ve tried the operator, I can’t get anyone.’ Sam filled the kettle and placed it on the Aga.

‘The storm’s damaged the lines, I guess, but I wonder . . .’ Meg rummaged through the books on the bench until she located a district telephone book. She twirled the handle on the telephone. ‘James, James Campbell.’ A shrill noise carried down the line. ‘Well, this part of the line isn’t damaged.’

‘Campbell Station, James here.’

Meg briefly described the situation, including Kendal’s ‘accident’.

‘And you’re telling me she’s been out since yesterday and no one bothered to go after her?’ James was clearly distraught.

‘Well, um, I didn’t know until it was near dark and then Kendal hurt himself and –’

‘Forget it, Meg. So where exactly did she go?’

‘Where did Cora go?’ Meg repeated to Sam.

‘Over the creek to the back paddock to get that bloody ram,’ Sam said loudly.

‘I heard him,’ James confirmed.

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