Kipp The Kid (7 page)

“He didn’t mean to. He can be very nice…when he’s
sober.

Kipp was reluctant to leave the hovel with Jane. He
had hoped to steal another kiss from her, but decided he daren’t
risk rejection. She liked him and that was enough for now. In the
meantime they had work to do. If he had known what would follow, he
might have taken his opportunity. But such is the habit of fate, he
could not have then known.

They left the hovel with all their things early in
the morning. Then they sat at the camp site, after lighting a fire
and rolling out their swags, as if they had been there all night.
The could not know whether the boys had returned the night before.
Kipp guessed that the boys would have gone about town gossiping
about him and Jane. He hoped it made them jealous. He did not care
for many of the locals. They had hurt his grandparents many times
with their gossip. So he wasn’t interested in what the townsfolk
would think about him and Jane. It was simply none of their
business.

As predicted the boys did return. Jane could hear
them whispering at the top of the cliff. Kipp was ready for
them.

“No. I can’t tell you.” Kipp said suddenly, loud
enough so that anyone within a mile could hear.

“Why not?” said Jane, acting her role perfectly.

“It’s a secret.”

“So you’re keeping secrets now? What about yesterday.
Would you have kept secrets from me then?”

Jane thought she heard muffled laughter from above
and had to stop herself from smiling.

“That was different.” Kipp said, feigning
annoyance.

“How so?”

“You were scared, vulnerable.”

Jane was wondering how much of the act was Kipp and
how much of it was just acting. He’s really good at this, she
thought and then decided to step it up.

“Well, wouldn’t you be?” She flung her head around in
a desperate attempt to look insulted and almost overdid it. Out of
the corner of an eye she saw three small heads peering over the top
of the cliff, but she dared not look up.

“Look. It’s not easy you know,” said Kipp, “I’ve
never trusted anyone enough to tell them where the treasure is
buried…”

“Did you hear that?” said Arnold. “I told you there
was treasure.” He had the cloth map he had found partially buried
nearby. “See?” He was pointing at a spot on the map. “It’s right
there, down below, at the end of this cut-out.”

“Alright, alright. I heard you the first time,” Trent
said and then ripped the map off him. The three boys peered down
eagerly, waiting for their opportunity.

Jane was hitting her stride at this point. She was
standing, hands on her hips and wore a determined look on her face.
“Not easy? Try living with a drunk. Try never going out. You kissed
me, remember?” As soon as she said that, she wondered if she had
gone too far with her act. Kipp had a flash of red on his face and
scowled at her momentarily. He didn’t really care what the boys
thought, but didn’t necessarily want them to know about that. Too
late now.

He heard more laughter above him. He did not look up
but kept on with the act. “Ok, alright. I get it. I trust you. I’ll
show you. Just don’t get upset.”

“Did you hear that?” said Jake “They kissed?
Yuk!”

All three boys laughed. Arnold was on his back by
now, holding his stomach. Spitting out laughs as if he had choked
on them and wanted them out but couldn’t force them out.

Kipp made a move towards Jane, who reluctantly let
him place his hands on her shoulder. Then she slowly turned around
and even though he knew she was still in character, he was still
surprised when she kissed him again, full on the lips and for much
longer than before. Too long in fact. Kipp pushed her away a little
and then whispered, “Nice work.”

“Do you think they bought it?”

“I would have,” he said and then winked. Jane smiled
again. She felt like a little kid who had just done the right thing
in the school yard and the teacher had acknowledged it.

“What are we going to do now?” said Jake. Arnold had
flipped over and Trent was concentrating.

“We wait.”

Kipp took Jane over to the spot where they had
earlier buried the box. He pointed deliberately at the marking and
placed a small spade next to it as if to reinforce his trust.
“There, satisfied?” The two of them stared at the ground for a
moment and then they headed back to the camp, packed their things
and climbed back up out of the chasm at the end opposite where the
boys were.

Then they hid behind some ruins and watched as the
boys went down and started digging frantically for the box. Jane
and Kipp laughed when they heard the boys rejoicing with glee and
watched as they lifted the box above their heads and squealed like
five year olds on Christmas morning. When they left the edge of the
chasm, Kipp and Jane laughed and joked all the way back home. “I’d
love to see their reaction when they’re told how much those stones
and fool’s gold are worth,” said Kipp.

“What?” added Jane, “One penny? There must be some
mistake sir, it’s treasure, real treasure.” She said laughing
loudly. Kipp was laughing too and then pulled a face of
disappointment, mimicking what the boys would look like. Jane saw
it and laughed even louder. “Stop. Please, no more. I can’t take
it.”

It was like that most of the way home. But when they
got closer the mood changed as Jane began to worry about her
father’s reaction. At one point she stopped and hesitated to go
on.

“It’ll be ok Jane. I’ll be there. If he tries
anything or makes a move towards you I’ll stand between us.”

Jane tried to picture Kipp bravely standing between
her and her large framed father. She thought he was brave saying
it, but seeing it was something quite different. But they had to go
on. No sense avoiding it.

By the time they reached their properties, Jane was
feeling physically ill at the thought of seeing her dad angry. Kipp
had to wait with her at the fences, while she hunched over, knees
bent. He didn’t think she was weak, he was only being practical.
But he dare not force her to do something she was struggling with.
After a while she straightened and, wiping her mouth, she climbed
the fence and walked on ahead. Kipp followed. Approaching her
house, there was no evidence anything was unusual. It wasn’t until
they were almost at the back door that it suddenly flung open.
Jane’s father stood, red faced, eyes moistened. He looked a wreck.
Kipp noted there was no bottle in his hand. Suddenly Jane’s father
stumbled forward and Kipp thought he might hit her. Instead, to
both their surprise, he dropped to the ground and threw both his
arms about her, embracing her and crying like Kipp had never seen
any man cry.

Kipp didn’t know whether to leave them to it or hang
around. He secretly thought her father might be so angry that he
would hit Kipp. He had no justification for feeling this way. It
was only instinct. He felt uncomfortable all of the sudden, like he
was the outsider looking in again. He and Jane and shared several
moments together. They had formed a bond Kipp never thought
possible. He was reluctant to describe it as love, but that was the
only word he knew fitted. But just as he was about to make his exit
and head home, Jane’s father pulled himself away and looked
Jane—who was now crying—square in the eyes and said something
neither of them expected.

“I am so sorry Jane. I hurt you. I didn’t mean it but
I hurt you. A father should never do that. Your mother would never
have forgiven me. But can you? Please forgive me.” At this point
Jane’s father broke down and Jane herself started sobbing. Then she
flung her arms around him again and stammered. “I do. Of course I
do. I forgive you. I love you. Don’t be sad. Please daddy, don’t be
sad. Mummy wouldn’t want us to be sad.”

“I know love. I know. I loved her. I miss her so
much.”

“I miss her too. But I love you daddy. I want you to
be happy. I want us to be happy.”

They hugged and hugged and sobbed and sobbed. At one
point her father looked up at Kipp and a wink was all Kipp needed
to be reassured.

“Come here my boy.”

Kipp found himself reluctantly going over to them and
Jane’s father pulled him into them with such force that the three
of them fell over and started rolling around on the grass laughing.
He didn’t know what to make of it all but he was happy. This was so
unexpected, but he was happy, for Jane and for her father.

Jane’s father took the two of them inside. He had
cleaned up the whole place. There was no bottles of beer, no wine,
just a tidy home. He had been cooking too. The whole house smelt of
baking. He cut up some bread and chopped up some lettuce and onion
and made some sandwiches and then made Kipp and Jane tell him all
about their camping. Is this the same man I saw passed out on the
lounge just two days ago, Kipp was thinking.

Kipp, who at first was nervous and reluctant, after a
few sandwiches and some orange juice, was telling Jane’s dad about
the boys and how they had fooled them. Jane’s father was laughing
so loudly, Kipp thought his grandparents might call round to see
what all the fuss was about. Jane was laughing too, but more from
joy.

“And they bought it?” he asked loudly.

“Hook line and sinker.” Kipp answered.

“Good job lad. Those Jansen triplets have had it
coming for years. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Kipp pulled the same face he did before. “Worthless?
What do you mean, worthless,” he said in the dumbest voice he could
muster. With that Jane’s dad laughed so loud he started coughing
and spluttering. He got up and grabbed a handkerchief and started
coughing into it. But when he pulled the handkerchief away, the
sudden appearance of blood shocked Kipp. Jane saw it too and looked
flushed, like her own blood had drained from her face.

“Dad?”

Jane’s dad stopped laughing when he saw the blood,
then gave a curious, distant glance at Jane and Kipp, before
passing out and collapsing to the floor.

chapter 9: A dark and dangerous place

Alcohol Poisoning. That’s what the doctors called it.
A dreadful and unnatural way to go. Such a waste of an otherwise
good life. The only consolation, Kipp thought privately at the
funeral, was that at last Jane got to enjoy her father’s company
and feel the warmth of a final hug and the love of a doting dad.
But it also made his death that much harder for Jane to deal
with.

“No child should ever have to bury their parent,” the
minister had said. And Jane had had to do it twice. Kipp wondered
if Jane had the courage and the strength to deal with this and
decided that she did. He had witnessed her strength when confronted
with danger, even though she had moments of fragility. He had seen
her at her best. Now he would see her at her worst. He would be
there for her, as much as he could. But over the coming days and
weeks, through no fault or device of his own. Kipp saw less and
less of her. They had spoken only on a few brief occasions. He had
told her, at least, that no matter what, he was here. She had only
nodded, the tears so frequent these days, returning again. They had
shared only the briefest of hugs.

Then one night there was a knock at the door. Jane
had been staying at a friend of the families but her Uncle and
Aunty had come to settle Jane’s father’s affairs and to take over
guardianship of their Niece. When Kipp saw them at the funeral,
they struck him as much more reserved and cold than Jane’s father.
In his young mind and heart, Kipp had tried to reason that it was
all for the best. But thinking of her leaving and going to the
other side of the country, was slowly and surely breaking his
heart.

So on the night Jane came to say her farewells, Kipp
was not in the least prepared for the emotional torment he would
have to endure. Now it was she who was the calm one. It was she who
had to hold him. It was her warmth that he depended on. He felt
selfish. Her loss is greater than mine, he thought.

“It won’t be forever,” she said calmly and Kipp
wondered at what point she had suddenly grown up. In the weeks
since they had gone camping, she had become this other person,
almost a woman. She had even had a birthday, a somber occasion
without even a cake to celebrate. Now twelve, she could have passed
for fourteen. She’d even grown taller, whilst Kipp had barely moved
at all.

Seeing her again one last time only reinforced how
much he would miss her. She had started as a neighbor he barely
knew, had shown up at camp on that first night, much to his
annoyance, had become a friend, which had developed and blossomed
into something much more important and lasting. And just when they
looked set to share a life together, in some form or other, she was
leaving. And there was not a thing he or anyone else could do about
it.

“I’ll write,” she said reassuringly.

“You’d better,” he answered bluntly.

“I won’t forget you.”

“You’d better not.”

Strong and still stubborn as always, she thought as
she sat there on the end of his bed. Then she sealed both their
fates with a single, deliberate but oh so welcome kiss.