Kiss On The Bridge (12 page)

Darryl focused his gaze on the descending
craft. “My daughter is up there. What on blue blazers is she up
to?”

The hang-glider slowly rose in an up draft
before disappearing out of sight.

Darryl pointed in the direction of the beach.
“The over sized kite is heading for the water; sons, let’s go
retrieve your sister.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AFTER A perfect landing on the beach Anneli
and Wade climbed out from under the hang-glider. Boats had been
dumped on top of other boats. All were expensive toys for the rich
millionaires who came to Darwin for a warm Christmas. Cars were
thrown through the air by the strength of the wind. Some were
parked haphazardly, either on their roofs or stacked three high
against building walls. Glass fragments, bricks and the odd
half-a-house littered the sand. Wooden pylons were the only thing
remaining of the jetty. Debris littered the surface of the water.
The buildings butting up against the sand were nothing more than
rubble. Wherever Wade and Anneli looked, the scene appeared to be
the same.

Wade and Anneli walked around Charlotte
studying every square inch of the hull.

“The yacht seems to have come through the
cyclone healthier than most of the other sea going vessels,” stated
Anneli.

“Yes, Charlotte seems fine,” replied Wade.
“From this angle she doesn’t appear to have any holes.”

“We won’t know how the port side is till
she’s upright in the water. The whole side is buried under the
sand,” blurted Anneli, pointing. “It might have been ripped away
when the cyclone dumped her high out of the water.”

“I’ll go take a look inside,” said Wade.

Walking along the deck proved difficult.
Charlotte lay on her side at a sixty degree angle. He leaned
against the deck and walked along the cross beam to get to the
storm shutter. Reaching down Wade easily opened the trap door. He
scurried down the stairwell by sliding down the edge of the steps
on his stomach. Wade commando crawled along the entire wall looking
for any cracks in the hull. He detected none. On the way out he
spied the fridge door. By some miracle it remained closed. He slid
over, swiping four small bottles off the middle shelf. Two were
water and two were pink champagne. He grabbed a few bananas from
out of the small cupboard. Dropping the lot into a small plastic
bag, he slid back out the way he came.

After unscrewing the lid of a water bottle,
Anneli drank the entire contents in one breath. “Now this is a
memorable Christmas lunch.” She hurriedly peeled a banana, biting
it in half. Pink champagne helped to wash it down.

Wade chuckled at her comical look.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You don’t strike me to be a rich man’s
daughter.”

“I am and don’t you forget it,” she warned,
wagging her finger under his nose. “Mind you the exact second my
father hears about all this he’ll be hopping mad. At the very least
he’ll know I’m serious about wanting to choose my own destiny. At a
guess, he’ll never want to talk to me again.”

“I never argue with a woman,” blurted Wade
seriously.

“You’re off to a good start for a lasting
relationship.”

Wade and Anneli sat on the sand laughing at
the thought. They chuckled at nothing when there wasn’t anything
left to laugh about. Staring lustfully into each others eyes they
sensed love starting to mushroom. Neither Wade nor Anneli wanted to
hinder the prospect.

Wade eventually slapped Anneli gently on the
knee. “If we want to set sail for Melbourne, we have plenty of work
to do.”

“How can we even start to think about getting
Charlotte back in the water, she’s stuck high and dry? We’ll need a
crane to lift her.”

“For everything there is a solution.”

“Now there’s philosophical jargon at its
best. Tell me Wade Mackenzie have you ever found yourself in a
problem you don’t know the answer to?”

“Once or twice,” he confessed. “I want to
believe there’s always a way out of any mess.”

“I hope I’m not around to see the day when
you are stuck for a solution.”

Wade climbed back onto the deck of the yacht.
He returned holding a shovel. Jumping onto the sand, he walked to
the center of the yacht and commenced to dig the sand out from
around the keel.

Anneli joined in. They dug fast. Wade used
his hands, Anneli used the shovel. Soon the yacht looked ready to
be tilted straight.

Wade called a halt to the process. “Before we
go any further we have to swivel Charlotte around. When she faces
the water it’ll be a simple matter of getting her deep enough to
float.”

“How can we accomplish such a feat?”
questioned Anneli. After downing the shovel by driving the metal
blade into the sand she slipped her hands onto her hips. “I don’t
think our combined strength will be able to get the yacht to the
water let alone move her.”

“Trust me,” teased Wade, brushing the sand
from her shoulders.

Anneli wore a puzzled expression. “This will
be interesting.”

“There is a small detail I believe needs to
be addressed,” advised Wade. “You have two options. One, you can go
in search of a car tyre. The larger and heavier the better, or two,
you can dig a trench all the way to the water.”

Anneli rolled her eyes. “I’ll go look for a
tyre.”

“If you discover an extra long length of rope
during your search my shopping list will be complete,” hinted
Wade.

Easily remembering the shopping list, Anneli
waltzed off wagging her behind at Wade. She knew he’d stopped
digging to watch her walk off. She hammed it up by increasing her
waddle.

The love game appeared to be picking up
speed.

Anneli carefully walked about the debris in
her search for the tyre. She didn’t have any idea how the item
might help float Charlotte, however she decided to trust Wade’s
judgment.

The air felt stifling due to the rising
humidity. Pulling up the tracksuit sleeves Anneli’s face and arms
were glistening from sweat. She came across what remained of a
small metal structure. It resembled an over sized shed. Half a sign
hung vertically over the crushed front door. Strong winds pushed a
half cabin run-a-bout boat into the roller door, smashing it.
Anneli looked inside the boat. Soaking wet clothes of varies styles
and colours littered the floor.

“Hello is anyone onboard?”

Pulling herself up and over the side, Anneli
shimmied along the bottom of the boat to the half cabin. The small
closed door guarding the room behind it, hung by a single hinge.
Stepping up to the door, she squatted.

“Hello, is anyone in need of assistance?”

Hearing no reply she stepped through the
gap.

A low cupboard boasted a neat pile of dry
clothes sitting on the only shelf. Anneli lifted a pair of denim
shorts to eye-level. Deciding she needed to change her clothes,
Anneli discarded the oversized tracksuit, slipping into the shorts.
The air inside the half cabin felt like a sauna room, making the
transition into the shorts a slow tedious job. Her long thin legs
seemed to stick to the garments. The moment she finished squeezing
into the shorts she pulled the end of the black leather belt to the
inside-hole, clipping the oversized buckle closed. The hem of a
pink button up shirt caught her eye when she started to walk back
out of the boat. She decided in a heartbeat she needed it.

Anneli slipped out of the boat the same way
she entered then walked towards the oversized tin shed. A closer
inspection of the vertical sign made it clear the shed used to be
the local garage. Skipping up to the small buckled door, Anneli
yanked the metal away. She stepped through the narrow gap and
entered the mechanic’s work shop.

Sunlight streaming in from the broken
skylight showed dust hovered in the air over the entire area,
making breathing difficult.

Along the entire length of the tin wall there
were seven cars in various stages of repair. Using her hand to
cover her mouth, Anneli walked about the workshop. In the far
corner near an old Mercedes sedan she found what Wade asked her to
find. Old tyres on rims filled a long rack. Various lengths of rope
expertly wound hung from hooks on one end of the rack. Anneli
swiped what appeared to be a brand new extra long white rope from a
hook, slinging it over her shoulder. She dragged the largest old
tyre on a rim from the rack. She deduced it probably came from the
truck at the far side of the shed. A long boat had smashed through
the window, coming to rest on the bonnet. Walking back to the door,
movement caught her eye. She stopped the tyre from rolling. For
over thirty seconds she stared at the place where she thought the
movement came from.

“This garage is giving me the creeps,” she
whispered. “I must have seen a mouse or a cat.” Before being fully
convinced, the object moved again. “It’s definitely not a mouse,”
she screamed.

“Is someone there? Please, I won’t hurt you.
I need you to help me. I’m pinned under the front of the
truck.”

Anneli fought the fear rising up inside her.
“Who are you?”

“I’m Eric the local mechanic. Please, I don’t
care what you take, I only need help.”

“I’m not sure how I can help you.”

“I need you to come over here to lift the
truck up. My leg is pinned.”

“How do I know you’re telling me the
truth?”

“Please, you have to believe me. I’ve been
stuck in this position for over an hour.”

“You do sound sincere,” called Anneli, not
sure of what to make of the whole, ‘please help me, I’m trapped
scenario.’”

“I am very serious.”

“You might be a good actor?”

“At the moment I wish I were. I promise you
I’m only the local mechanic. What’s your name? Are you alone?”

“Yes I’m alone. My name is Anneli. I also
think coming over is not a good idea.”

“I can understand your plight. At the very
least, please go find someone who can help.”

Anneli quickly weighed her options, deciding
Eric, the so called local mechanic sounded genuine. She placed the
length of rope on the floor, leaned the wheel against the wall of
the shed and ventured over to the truck, swiping a metal bar the
same length as a baseball bat from the floor.

“Where exactly are you?” she called.

Eric started to cough from the dust. He
raised his hand. “I’m at the front of the truck.”

Anneli skirted around to the back of the
truck, looking underneath. Breathing became more difficult the
closer she put her head to the floor. She could feel dust starting
to clog her throat. Anneli inhaled through her cupped hand. She’d
been in training for at least twelve months to extend the amount of
time she could hold her breath. The diving instructor who taught
the class of four suggested it. Anneli vividly remembered the man’s
ice cold baritone voice. His words were well cemented into her
memory. ‘You never know when it might come in handy. If practicing
the art only saves you once in your life it is well worth it.’
Every day she forced her lungs to be fully inflated. Six months of
training saw her being able to hold her breath for at least fifty
five seconds. A slow exhale gave her ten more. Anneli gave a school
girl grin at being told she’d been the best in the class.

“Are you nearly at the front of the truck?”
coughed Eric.

“Yes I am.” Anneli dropped the metal bar,
sprinting over. She knelt in the dust smiling warmly at the trapped
man. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” answered the man. “Don’t you
worry I’ve no broken bones. My pants are the only part pinned.”

“How can I help?”

“I need you to find another car jack so you
can lift the front of the truck. I don’t need much room to free
myself. Please hurry.”

Anneli started searching the immediate area.
“Why were you working on Christmas day?” she called, lifting the
trunk of the closest car.

“I wasn’t. I left my wife’s present in the
office. I dived under the truck when the cyclone hit. My wife will
be so worried. Don’t get me wrong, I love her dearly for the
emotion. We were going to be in Sydney for Christmas dinner. We
were scheduled to fly out at 1:45pm. My daughter, who hasn’t talked
to me or my wife in over ten years, invited us to stay for a few
days. I think any reconciliation between us might have been
lost.”

Anneli momentarily stopped searching. She
walked over, placing her hand on Eric’s shoulder. “I’ll do what I
can to get you to Sydney. I promise I’ll come back carrying a car
Jack.”

Walking off towards the office, her eyes
scoured every piece of debris in the workshop. Spying a large car
not far from the truck, Anneli sprinted over. Disappointment surged
through her body. The Jack she found had been used to prop up the
old Mercedes. The cyclone saw to it the car moved, bringing it down
hard on the jack. Anneli needed something to use for a fulcrum and
a pivot point. The iron bar she dropped needed to be longer; much
longer.

Anneli resumed her search. Finding a crow bar
at least six feet long lying on the floor close to the office door
forced a smile. Swiping it off the floor, she sprinted back towards
the Mercedes. Close to the car she found a diff covered in
dirt.

‘Obviously it must have been the next job,’
she thought.

Anneli pushed the diff towards the car and
jammed the crowbar under the side of the Mercedes. The old Merc
lifted when she used her weight to push down on her end of the bar,
freeing the car jack. The only problem, to reach the hydraulic
jack, she needed help.

CHAPTER TWELVE

WADE FINALLY finished digging the trench from
Charlotte to the waterline. He stopped when the sea covered his
knees. Searching the shoreline, he hoped to see Anneli sitting back
watching him. Failing to see her he walked out of the water, leaned
the shovel against Charlotte and started to search the rubble.