Captain Mack (10 page)

The last two periods of the day were double woodwork, and Danny got so involved in the sewing box he was making that it wasn't until he went to get his bag that he remembered Shaun's threat. Then he felt sick. He wondered when they might do whatever it was they were planning.

He didn't have to wait long to find out. They were waiting for him in the noise and bustle of the locker hall, and without meaning to, he slowed down when he saw them.

“Here he is,” Grant said.

“About time,” replied Shaun. “What took you so long?”

“What do you want?” Danny asked.

Shaun snorted. “What do you think? That stupid medal thing you've been carting around and showing off all day, of course.” He held out his hand. “Well, come on then — don't waste our time.”

Danny swallowed hard. “You can't have it,” he said. “It was given to me.”

“Not in the first place,” Shaun said. “It was given to your old Scottish mate, wasn't it? And what did he do that was so brave?”

“He was a prisoner-of-war,” Danny replied.

“Then he was stupid enough to get caught, wasn't he?” The two boys laughed. “A stupid old man and his stupid little mate with his precious medal. Anyway, what makes you think you deserve something like that Cross thing — you've never done anything all that brave.”

“I knocked you over at lunchtime,” Danny said.

“Yeah, and don't think I've forgotten about it, either.”

“Look, can you get out of my way?” Danny said, pushing between Shaun and Grant to get at his locker. “Please.”

“Not until you give us the medal,” Grant said.

“I don't think so,” Danny answered.

Shaun glanced around at the other boys collecting their things. “You don't think we're dumb enough to fight you for it here, do you?”

“You've done it before,” Danny said, pushing the last of his books into his bag and closing his locker.

“Nah, we'll wait until you're off school grounds. You're not worth getting expelled for.”

Caleb arrived then. “What do you two want?” he asked Shaun and Grant.

“Your turn will come,” Shaun said to him.

“What does that mean?” Caleb asked, screwing up his nose. He put on a deep tough voice. “
Your turn will come.
You guys are so full of it.”

“Come on,” Shaun said to Grant. “We'll sort this out later.”

“I'll look forward to it,” Danny said, his voice carrying a lot more confidence and bravery than he actually felt.

As he walked out of the school gates Danny could feel that his face was hot and his hands were shaking slightly. He wondered if he'd seemed cool or if Shaun and Grant had seen through his act. Who am I fooling, he thought. Of course they did.

“What do you think they'll do?” he asked Caleb as they waited on the platform.

“Who? Oh,
them
? Nothing.”

“They said —”

“I heard what they said, but they don't want to get expelled, do they? They're gutless.”

“I wish they would get expelled.” Danny removed his glasses and polished them on his blazer. “It'd save us all a bit of misery.”

“Yeah, well here's my train, so you'll have to fantasise on your own,” Caleb said, hoisting his bag onto his back. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Danny had just left the station and was walking along a quiet street towards his house when he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced back and was surprised — and shocked — to see Shaun and Grant a short distance behind. Shaun's face was a mask of cold determination, and Grant was wearing a dumb-looking smirk. Danny felt his stomach drop. So this was it. Suddenly his mouth felt like it was full of flour, and he was conscious of his heart picking up the pace. Even his guts began to panic.

“What do you want?” he said as they caught up with him. The thin weakness of his own voice irritated him. “”You mean you've followed me home on the train and everything? I keep telling you —”

“Shut up,” Shaun said, pushing past Danny and turning so their faces were close together. “We're not in school any more, so there's no Cullen to protect you. Now give me the medal.”

“I told you —”

“Shut up!” Shaun said again, almost yelling this time, and before Danny had time to react to the sudden blur coming at him from the left, he felt Shaun's fist crash into the side of his face. He heard his glasses rattle away as he fell to his knees, grabbing his cheek. When he checked his hand it was smudged with red.

“Get up,” Shaun ordered.

Danny wanted to say “I can't”, but wasn't sure how brave that would sound, so instead he tried to stand. It wasn't easy, and he staggered a bit.

“Help him up, Grant,” Shaun said, and Danny felt himself being lifted by the shoulder-straps of his bag. He stood there on the footpath trying not to wobble about.

“Hey, it looks like I've knocked one of his eyes crooked,” Shaun crowed, and Grant laughed. Suddenly Shaun's smile was gone as he hissed through tight lips, “Give me that medal. I don't want to hit you again.”

Part of Danny wanted to give him the Cross, just hand it over and forget it ever existed. But another part told him that Captain Mack must have done something a million times braver than stand up to Shaun Gilmore to earn it in the first place.

“I told you, you can't have it,” he said firmly. “It given to me by a war hero.”

“Do I have to hit you again?”

“Maybe,” Danny answered.

This time the punch glanced off his nose, and after the bright flash and the dull crunching sound, the fat pain set in. He was on his hands and knees on the footpath again, the weight of his full school bag pushing against the back of his bowed head. Bravery's one thing, he thought, as he watched the steady trickle of blood from his nose forming a bright little pool on the cement, but this is getting ridiculous.

He watched Shaun's scuffed black shoes and Grant's expensive sneakers move in until they were right next to his face, one pair on each side. Then he felt hands reaching under him to his shirt pocket, feeling for the medal.

Danny fumbled in his blazer pocket and pulled the Cross out, holding it tightly in his hand. “You can't have it,” he repeated, his voice croaky.

“I think you're wrong,” Shaun said, stepping on Danny's wrist and grinding it into the concrete. “Let it go, you little squirt. Let it go or I'll break your arm.”

Would Captain Mack have let them have it? Would he have just given it up to a pair of cowards who'd stalked someone into an empty street? Of course he wouldn't. Never, not even under the tropical sun with bleeding fingers and a swollen tongue. Danny's answer was firm and strong. “Then break my arm, but you're not getting it,” he said.

“You're a worm, Smell,” Shaun snarled, pressing harder with his foot. “You know what I do to worms? I squish 'em.”

“Hey, you boys!” a woman's voice shouted, and Danny felt the pressure on his wrist lighten. There were soft footsteps running towards them, and the two pairs of shoes suddenly disappeared from Danny's little circle of vision.

“You're dead, Smell,” he heard Shaun call as he and Grant ran off. “I'll get you tomorrow.”

“Danny, are you OK? Who was that?” Ellie held him under his arm and helped him up.

“My glasses — they got knocked off.”

“They're here.” She slipped them on for him and examined his face from up close. “Are you OK?” she asked again.

“I've been better,” he said.

“Does this hurt?” she asked, touching the bridge of his nose.

“Ouch!” he said. “Everything hurts.”

She handed him a hanky. “Here, hold this on your nose until it stops bleeding. Come on home and I'll call your dad.” She took his bag. “Are you OK to walk?”

“I think so.”

“What was that all about anyway?” she asked as they made the slow walk to her place.

“This.” He opened his fingers to show her the medal, still tightly clasped in his bloody hand.

FOURTEEN

“When can I go home, Dad?”

Dad patted Danny's hand. “Tomorrow morning,” he said. “They want to watch you just for the night.”

“But my nose is fixed,” Danny said, conscious of the white plaster pushing his glasses too high on his face.

“Maybe so, but you got clocked pretty hard, and they want to make sure you're not too hurt. I'm surprised you can even see out of that left eye.”

“Dad!”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot.” Dad managed a half smile.

Danny rested his head back against the cool pillow. It was so soft, and he felt very tired. Maybe not moving from this bed for a few hours wasn't such a bad thing after all.

“I called the school and spoke with Ralph Partridge,” Dad said.

“You called Dr Partridge? Why did you do that?”

“Because you were set upon by delinquents from your very own school, that's why!” Dad said. “Dan, they broke your nose and put you in hospital. I want the little monsters expelled.”

“Do you think they will be?” Dan asked hopefully.

“If they get out of this mess without criminal charges dumped on them they'll be lucky.”

Danny fingered the plaster on his nose. “I look ridiculous,” he said. “I can't go to school like this.”

Dad smiled. “Can and will. So tell me, what are you going to do about this medal?” He took the Cross out of his pocket and examined it for a bit before handing it to Danny. “Ellie told me what happened last night — the escape and all.”

“Oh. Are you mad at me?”

Dad shook his head. “No, son, what you did was a good thing. It wasn't the right thing — I hope you understand the difference — but it came of good intentions, so I'm not mad. I think you did what you believed was the best thing for your friend. But the medal — we really need to talk about that.”

“What about it?”

Dad puffed out his cheeks as he thought. “I think you should return it,” he said at last.

“Return it? Why? I earned it!”

Dad shook his head. “You didn't earn it, Dan.”

“Yes I did! Captain Mack gave it to me for helping him escape, and then I got beaten up because of it.”

“I know, but it's not yours. It still belongs to Captain Mack —”

“Yeah, and then he gave it to me!”

“I realise that, but it's an incredibly valuable item. It's a precious thing which should stay in Captain Mack's family. If anyone should have it, his son should.”

“But his son's a —”

Dad held up his hand. “Don't say that,” he said firmly. “You don't know him well enough. You don't understand his circumstances. You have no idea why he took Captain Mack from one place and put him in the other. You've only met him once or twice, and I don't think you should make up your mind so readily about someone you hardly know. And I think you should return that medal tomorrow.”

Danny flopped back against the pillow. His nose was throbbing. He felt like crying. “You're serious about this, aren't you, Dad?”

Dad nodded. “Perfectly.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Dad asked as they got home the following morning. “Watch TV, have a rest?”

“I might watch TV for a while,” Danny replied. “Are you staying?”

“I've got to go in to work for an hour or so, and then I'll be back. Will you be OK?”

“I'll be fine,” Danny said.

“All right. Well, you can have one of those tablets I got if your nose gets too sore, but only one, OK? And you can give me a call on the mobile if you need me to come back sooner.”

“I'll be fine,” Danny said again. “I'll just watch TV or read a book or something.”

Dad had only been gone for about ten minutes when there was a knock at the door. It was Ellie.

“Oh dear, that's bruised, hasn't it?” she said. “Was your nose broken?”

“Yep,” Danny said, a little proudly.

“Hmm, I thought so,” Ellie replied. “I've got something for you.” She held out a small box of chocolates. “It's not much, but I thought it might cheer you up.”

Danny thanked her and invited her in. She followed him back into the sitting room.

“You're well set up,” she commented, seeing the doona on the couch and the pile of videos. “Not planning to go too far today, then?”

“I'm staying home.”

“Yeah, I guessed.”

“Dad said you told him what happened.”

Ellie nodded. “I had to. I hope you understand.”

Danny nodded. “That's okay — I guess I would have told him myself eventually anyway.”

She sat down. “So what are you going to do with that medal of yours? Are you going to loan it to a museum or just keep it in a cigar box under your bed?”

“Dad says I should give it back.”

“Really? Why?”

“He says it belongs to his son. What do you think?”

She pursed her lips, then she smiled and gazed out the window. “Not my call, Danny. I'm not you, and I'm not your dad. It would be a shame not to keep it, but there's more to consider than that, isn't there?”

He pursed his lips and stared hard at the blank TV. It wasn't quite the answer he'd been hoping for.

The next day at school the story had already spread. It was embarrassing at first. Everyone in Danny's class wanted to hear the details, and it soon became obvious to him that Shaun and Grant had been disliked by more people than he'd realised, and the embarrassment quickly turned into a feeling of pride. It was as if he'd become a celebrity. At recess one group of Year Eleven boys even stopped him and asked to see the medal, which he proudly displayed.

“Is it real?” one boy asked.

“Of course it's real. I got beaten up for it, didn't I?”

“But you've still got it.”

“You should see how
they
look,” Danny said, and the whole group laughed.

The first boy gave him a high-five. “That's cool, man,” he said.

It seemed a definite shame to have to give the medal back.

Mr Cullen closed the door and pointed at a chair. “What's on your mind?” he asked, perching on the edge of his desk.

Danny wasn't sure how to say what he was thinking. “I just wanted to say something.”

“Fire away.”

“I'm taking the medal back this afternoon. I wasn't going to, but my dad said I should.”

Mr Cullen leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “That piece of bronze you're holding is worth a lot of money, you know.”

“I know that.”

“It takes a brave man to earn it, but I think it might be a braver man who realises it's not his and gives it back.”

“Dad says that Captain Mack's son deserves it more.”

“I've never met the man, but I don't know that I agree.”

“So you're saying I should keep it?”

Mr Cullen looked past Danny towards the oval, just as he often did when he was teaching. “That probably depends on how much you think is enough, Daniel.”

“Enough for what?”

“Do you believe that what you've endured makes it rightfully yours, compared with what was done to earn it in the first place?”

Danny held the Cross, squeezing it tightly.

Danny stood on the footpath in front of Redgrange and took a deep breath. So this was it. Time to walk up to Captain Mack and hand back the best thing either of them had ever been given. He could almost understand why Dad was asking him to retum it, and he could completely understand why Ellie didn't want to say one thing or the other. But what Mr Cullen had said made the most sense.

He squared his shoulders, took another deep breath and walked up to the big glass doors.

If any of the nurses in the corridor recognised him, they didn't say anything about Captain Mack's escape attempt. They just ignored him as they rushed past to do whatever nurses do.

Danny walked along the corridor to Room 5 and went in. The curtain was pulled around Captain Mack's bed, and for a moment he wondered if he was asleep. He pulled the fabric back slightly and peeked around.

The bed was empty, with the bedspread pulled up tidily and the pillow crisp and clean. There was nothing on the locker and no gown hanging on the hook on the wall.

He turned and hurried from the room. What had happened to Captain Mack? Where had he gone? He gripped the medal in his hand as he walked quickly to the reception desk.

“Hi there,” said the girl with the eyeshadow as Danny walked up to her window. “Been in the wars?”

“Pardon? Oh, that,” he said, remembering his black eyes and plaster. “Yeah, I got in a fight.”

“That was silly.”

“Yeah. Um, I just went down to Captain Mack's room and he's not there. Do you know where he is?”

The girl put on a serious face as she picked up her green folder. Danny wondered if it was the special face she kept for giving bad news to family members.

“What's his name again?” she asked. “McAuliffe, isn't it?”

“Yeah, that's it. Do you know where he is?”

“Hang on, I'm looking. Oh, here we go. He's gone,” she said, closing the folder emphatically.

“Gone? Gone where?” Danny asked anxiously.

“I'm not allowed to say. His son had him moved yesterday.”

“You mean to another hospital?”

“Yeah, that's right.”

“Which one?”

“I told you, I'm not allowed to say. Are you family?”

“No, but I'm a friend.”

“Then you'll need to ask a family member where he's been moved to.”

“But I don't know where his family live,” Danny said.

“I'm sorry. Rules …” the girl replied, making an almost-apologetic face.

“Thanks.” Danny turned and walked away from the desk, through the front doors and down the wide brown stairs to the path. He felt truly rotten. It was his fault that Captain Mack had been moved. If he'd never helped him escape in the first place then he'd still be here and they could still see each other. But now he had no possible way of finding Captain Mack and he'd probably never be able to visit him again.

But there was another way of looking at it — a better way. He imagined Captain Mack in a better nursing home, truly content, growing old in a warm friendly place rather than in some jungle prison camp constructed out of fifty-year-old memories. Forgetting all about young Tierney deep in the forest, bravely holding back the enemy forces single-handedly. Perhaps I've done a good thing after all, Danny thought.

He remembered the medal then, still gripped firmly in his hand. Maybe that was the best part of all. Captain Mack would get his wish, because Danny would be forced to keep the Cross, even if it was only for the few days it would take to get in touch with William. Danny knew he'd earned it. He did deserve it. He really had done a good thing.

He was standing beside the street now, and the sunlight was starting to fade. It was time to catch the train home.

After about ten minutes of walking he reached the station, just as the train appeared far away, at the end of the long curve of track. He stood on the footbridge above the platform and watched it approach. He knew he'd have to start down the stairs soon if he was going to catch it.

Then a far better idea came to him, and taking the medal from his pocket he breathed on it, then rubbed it with his school tie until it began to shine. He carefully opened the pin at the back of the ribbon and slid it into the thick blue fabric of his blazer. The pin was blunt and crusty and took some forcing, but at last it was through. He fastened the clasp and let go, and felt the Cross hanging heavily against his chest as he straightened. And finally he turned, faced in the direction of home and, completely ignoring the train pulling slowly out from the station, began the long march home.