Into That Forest Page 8

  We were curled up together sleeping when we were woken up and taken into a bedroom. I were yawning and not in a happy mood and nipped Ernie’s hand. He yelped like a dog and stayed his distance from me. Mr Carsons undressed Becky. She were naked and looked to me as if to say, What’s happening, Hannah? Her father tried to put a blue dress on her but she squirmed and whimpered. I seen it were too tight, but her father and the fat man squeezed it onto her. She tried to pull it off but her father kept on shouting, No! He were very firm with her. He dragged her in front of a full-length mirror and asked her some questions. She did not answer but stared at herself like she were seeing a stranger. She took a step closer and really looked at herself. She stroked the dress as if she recognised it and frowned like she had all the thoughts in the world whirling through her.

  They tried to put a dress on me. I couldn’t hack it. There were a kerfuffle and once I ripped off the dress the men gave up. I gave Ernie a threat yawn when he came towards me holding another frock. Becky gave a peculiar smile when I did me yawn, like she were looking down on me for some reason I couldn’t work out; it were like she thought she were better than me. Her father went out of the room and came back with a shirt and trousers. He measured the pants against me and then picked up a pair of scissors and cut them to me size. The shirt were loose on me and so were the trousers which Ernie tied round me with a piece of string. I felt free compared to Becky. She couldn’t run in her dress unless she lifted it up, and she had to walk slower with smaller steps.

  The men were pleased with what they had done and took us into the living room where there were a piano and a mechanical contraption Ernie were putting together with a box and a horn like a funnel ’bout six feet long. I were going to sit on the floor when I seen a movement out of the corner of me eye. I felt like playing, so I jumped at a string swinging back and forth across the window. I held it by me teeth and pulled. It gave way and I fell backwards in fright as the stick holding the curtains broke and they fell on top of me. There were yelling and shouting, but once I seen that it were only the curtains, I grabbed them by me teeth and dragged them round and round the room chased by the two men. Becky were laughing and I were inwardly laughing too. It were great fun. Once they caught me they tore the curtains from me hands and tied me up again.

  The ropes were tight so I could tell Ernie were getting angry with me. I looked to Becky to help me but she were staring at the piano. Her father seen what she were doing and opened up the lid. She had that frown again. She stepped right up to it and bent down and sniffed it, then she touched a key with her nose. The sound of the note made her jump back in surprise. Her father said something soothing. It calmed her and she reached out and touched a note with her finger. It made a sound, then she touched another one and another one. It sounded like icicles breaking off and other times like an animal were making a threat.

  She stopped and looked round at us three, her eyes wide with amazement. She remembered it! She remembered playing the piano: that much were plain. Her father told her to sit on the piano stool but she kicked it away and started to thump at the keys with all the energy she could muster. It were like she were playing music that were inside her head, like she were imitating the noises of tigers and devils. It were exciting music to me so I howled along with it and she howled too til her father shouted out above the racket: Rebecca!

  She span round like she heard a shot. He keep repeating her name in a quieter voice. She listened carefully, her head on a tilt. The two men stared so close at her it were like their eyes were drilling right into her to feast on her brain. Then Becky mouthed the word: Rebecca. The men egged her on. She said it again and her father laughed with excitement and so did Ernie. She said her name again and again til her father shushed her. Becky were joyful cos she made her father happy. She went back to playing the piano, humming away and making rooster sounds to the nonsense tunes she were making. I pretended I were a rooster too. I liked rooster cock-a-doodle-dooing cos I think it were funny.

  Ernie stopped me crowing and pushed me to the table on which he had put his machine. Mr Carsons stopped Becky from playing and placed her next to me. I were curious about this machine. I couldn’t make head or tail of it, but I sensed that the men wanted us to use it or play with it. He hummed what Becky had been singing and pushed us close to the big funnel. Ernie turned a handle and a needle dropped onto a black cylinder that started to spin. Becky realised her father wanted her to sing what she were singing at the piano, so she hummed her song into the funnel. Her father tapped me on the back and I realised he wanted me to join in. Becky and me did this for ’bout a minute and then we were told to stop. It all seemed peculiar to me and to Becky, who looked to me as if to say: Do you understand any of this? I had to shake me head.

  We were told to sit on chairs but Becky copied me by just flopping down on the floor near the table to wait for another silly request from these two ginks. I were thirsty and thinking about water when Ernie clapped, wanting us to pay attention to him. He turned the handle of the machine. I heard a voice that were singing like Becky. I looked at her but her mouth were hanging open in surprise and wonder. Then I recognised me own voice coming from inside the machine. How had our voices got into that machine? We both ran to the table to find the answer. Becky’s father held us back from touching the funnel. Becky grew really anxious and were shaking her head saying, No, no, no! I were trying to reach out and find me voice inside that infernal contraption. Our voices had been stolen! Someone had stolen me! I stared at the needle on the turning cylinder and realised our singing were in there. I wanted to smash it. It were spooky. It were magic. Ernie pushed me back when I reached out to smash the cylinder that had stolen our voices. I gave him the biggest threat yawn ever, as did Becky who seen what I were trying to do and she agreed with me. We were both in a panic wanting our voices to escape from that cylinder prison. She broke free and ran out the room. Ernie was protecting the machine so I were able to run out the room too.

  I were hightailing it down the corridor after Becky and then we both skedaddled outside onto the verandah. I continued to run when I noticed that Becky were no longer beside me. I looked back and seen her standing on the edge of the verandah with that frown of hers. Her father and Ernie stopped chasing us and walked up behind her, standing side by side with her as the three of them looked at me. Mr Carsons stepped down off the verandah and called me by me name. Then he pointed to Becky, as if to say, She is staying, why don’t you? I looked round and seen the forest and mountains in the distance. Becky! I called out, wanting her to come with me but she were staying put like her feet were nailed to the verandah floorboards. What could I do? I didn’t want to run away by meself. Becky were me closest person in the whole world.

  I joined her on the verandah and she rubbed her face against mine and the world were fine then. It must have been something about me panic that made Mr Carsons realise he had to do something for me, cos a little while later the four of us were in the buggy riding out of the front gate, the horse jittery maybe cos it sensed we two girls smelt different from other humans.

  We rode for several hours down dirt tracks and then along the river bank for some miles. The two men were worried ’bout us escaping, so we were tied together and Ernie held the ropes while Becky’s father drove. It were wonderful to be so inside the bush. It felt like home: the trees, the smells of animals and shit, the flowers and the gums.

  Then something happened inside me: I began to recognise, like a dream that becomes real, the countryside we were travelling through. Me heart went racing and I sweated. I realised Mr Carsons were taking me to me real home, me parents’ home. I tried to stand in the buggy I were so excited, but Ernie pulled me down. Memories of me mother and father swirled round me mind. I only had Becky’s word that me mother were drowned and as for me father she hadn’t seen him dead, so I was filled to the brim with the belief that they were still alive and I would see them again.

  And there it were! I recognised the house as
we drove up the overgrown path. I struggled to free meself. Ernie untied me ropes as we neared me home. I jumped out of the buggy and ran towards it. It seemed the same, but as I raced up the front steps a rotted one gave way and I fell. I didn’t care that I were bleeding from me chin, and after pushing open the door ran inside hearing meself call out Mummy … Daddy … Frightened mice and possums ran across the floors or scrambled up into the ceiling. Me face were soon sticky with cobwebs. I ran from room to room, but there were no one, only putrid couches and curtains. I ran into me parents’ bedroom. The bed were still there with the bed covers splattered with possum and rat shit. A fraying corset were on the mannequin. When I seen the rotting bedroom I knew me mother and father were dead. I couldn’t hack it. I fell to the floor and wept. I heard footsteps behind me. Then I felt Becky hugging me, cradling me, nuzzling me, as she rocked me back and forth while I wept for me parents and meself. I knew deep down that I had no one, no one except for that girl comforting me.

  I can’t remember the trip back to Mr Carsons’s farm. I were a shell of meself. If you had whacked me, all you would have heard would be a hollow sound as if you had hit an empty drum. I were put on the verandah. There were no need to tie me up now - both men knew that. They knew that I would stay wherever Becky were and she wanted to stay on the farm, I sensed that, I knew that.

  I were so inside meself I didn’t notice til the last minute that Ernie were leaving. He had a packhorse with his machine tied to it and I only seen he were going when he stopped beside me and whispered something - which sounded kind - and ruffled me hair. He were a gentle man, I sensed that. When he hopped on his horse Becky patted the box which held the machine. There, there … she said. I knew what she were doing; she were calming down our song inside the box.

  I watched Ernie slowly ride out the front gate with Mr Carsons walking beside him, talking ’bout something. Me mother and father had gone and now Ernie were gone. I wanted to howl like a dog. I wanted to claw at me body. I seen a pool of water in the mud near the horse trough and I don’t know why but I ran towards it, tearing off me shirt and trousers on the way. I rolled in the mud, weeping, feeling the comfort of the warm mud on me skin. I wanted to return to the tigers. I wanted to be a tiger. I were demented - no doubt about that - and I grabbed some mud and tried to draw stripes on me back. I heard Becky making soothing sounds in me ear. I heard me name being called by Mr Carsons, but I didn’t care, I were weeping and howling so much. Then I felt her fingers on me skin. Becky were drawing stripes on me back with the mud. I stopped weeping. It felt calming. I opened me eyes and seen Mr Carsons watching us in the mud. He didn’t try to stop what his daughter were doing to me. Becky were snuffling as she did the stripes and when she finished she laughed with delight. That caused me to laugh too. I didn’t feel so alone now. I were sad, sad to my marrow, but I had Becky. After sitting in the warm mud for some time she stood up and helped me to the trough where we bathed together in the cold water, teeth chattering, me skin like the goosebumps of a plucked chook. After we were clean Mr Carsons took us inside and fed us freshly killed possum.

  Cos Mr Carsons knew that I wouldn’t run away without Becky he allowed us to roam free round the farm as long as we didn’t scare the chooks or dogs. One night while I were sitting on the verandah peeking into the darkness hoping Corinna and Dave would turn up, Becky came outside wearing a new dress. She sat on the cane chair near where I were on my haunches. We had both stopped walking on all fours but I didn’t take to sitting on chairs cos they were too hard for me arse. Becky were becoming different. She liked sitting in chairs now. There were something about her mood that didn’t sit well with me. It were like she were smiling down at me from her chair. It were a look I had seen that once before, like she were better than me. I gave her a threat yawn. She laughed and pointed to herself, saying, Becky. She pointed to me and said, Hannah. I knew me name. I didn’t need her telling me I were stupid. I growled at her but she paid no attention cos her eyes were on a frog hopping across the verandah floor. Her hand jumped out and she caught it in the middle of its leap. She got up and went inside. I were lonely, so I followed her.

  She walked down the corridor and went into the bedroom where Mr Carsons were dozing. I peered round the door and seen her slowly approach her father who were lying on his back, his eyes suddenly open, knowing his daughter were in the room. Her eyes were radiant, as the dim light of his bedroom were perfect to see in. She snuffled and moved towards him. I could see dread in his eyes. I think he were wondering if Becky were going to kill him. She stopped at the side of the bed and jumped at him. He sat bolt upright, his eyes bright with terror. Becky laughed. I knew she were playing a game with him only he didn’t know. She looked surprised at his reaction and she gave him a nuzzle. He didn’t know what to make of this but he didn’t push her away. He allowed her to snuffle, lick and nuzzle him. She touched him on the face and began to speak. It were as if she were stuttering at first, saying d-d-d-d-d-d til she paused and then whispered Daddy. She grinned and he smiled in return. She opened her left hand and the frog fell onto the bed, surprising her father, before it began to hop across the blanket; it were her gift for him. She nuzzled him as he stroked her hair. They were real close then and I were not.

  Every day after that Becky seemed to grow further from me. Her father taught her to speak again. He got me to sit in on her lessons but I were not interested. I didn’t feel the need to speak. I knew what a few words meant, like food, dog, sheep and gun but I didn’t speak, unlike Becky who ate up all the learning. She were so caught up in it that if she got a word or sentence wrong she would slap her forehead and call herself stupid. Becky wanted to speak like she did before. She wanted to change. She tried real hard, like I hadn’t seen her before. She were the type that were always yes or no. If she wanted something real hard, she tried real hard.

  Even when she wasn’t learning or reading she were playing the piano instead of being with me. I think I began to be worried that she were separating herself from me cos me skin broke out in sores something bad. I picked at them and pretty soon I were covered in scabs. Mr Carsons tried to stop me from picking at them but I couldn’t help it. I felt anxious and bothered all the time. Other things were changing with Becky. She began to sleep at night. This really worried me cos I were awake at nights still. One evening I went into her bedroom where she were sleeping and I grabbed her hand with me teeth and tried to pull her on her feet but she slapped me away. She didn’t want to sleep when it were daytime. She said dogs did that, people didn’t.

  I spent a lot of time at night by meself. I liked sitting on the roof and listening to the sounds and noises of owls, squealing mice, fighting devils, the quolls running across dry grass and the spitting of possums - all of this wrapped up in the lovely scents of flowers in the night summer breeze.

  Becky started to eat cooked meat on a plate with a knife and fork. I ate raw meat and sat on the kitchen floor. One day Becky gave me that strange stare again - one where she looked down on me - and she mimicked the noises I made when I ate and the way I didn’t close my mouth when I chewed. I gave her a threat yawn but she only laughed. Mr Carsons, sitting at the table with Becky, told me to stop. I were angry so I spat meat on his boots. He cried out, Oh my God! I laughed at him cos it seemed he were too serious ’bout what I had done. It were so funny that I found meself mimicking him. The first time I were just making sounds and then something happened inside me head. I heard meself and realised that I hadn’t mimicked him properly so I said, clear as a bell, Oh my God … Oh my God … It struck me - I could talk! Oh, I’ll go bail if I didn’t drove those two mad for the rest of the day, just saying over and over, Oh my God … like some magic incantation. And it were magic cos I were speaking, even Becky were impressed.

  Later in the evening I were watching Mr Carsons put a freshly shot joey in the meat safe that hung from the pepper tree when I heard the faint sound of a sheep bleat in the distance. Becky heard it too, cos she turned in the directio
n of the sound like I did. It bleated in terror. I heard Mr Carsons ask his daughter what she were listening to, but Becky didn’t answer. She knew what it were, like me. Me heart beat fast with happiness. We shared a look and both of us knew what we were hearing and we took off, not obeying Mr Carsons who were calling us back. His cries telling us to stop could barely be heard over the barking and yelping of the dogs.

  We leapt over the front yard gate and ran through the long grass towards where we heard the sheep being killed. I coughed and keened like a tiger but there were no answer. We found Mr Carsons’s prize ram, bright scarlet in the moonlight, its skull crushed and its brain eaten. It were tigers all right. But were they Corinna and Dave? I peered real hard into the darkness and seen two fire-bright eyes staring back at us ’bout a hundred yards away. It were a tiger and it stanked of male. Becky and I coughed and keened then we seen the silhouette of a tiger turn and come towards us. We jumped in fright when we heard a shot whistling past us. It were Mr Carsons shooting at the tiger. The bullet missed and the tiger hightailed it back into the dark bush. Becky’s father gave a large sigh when he seen the dead ram. It were the sigh of a disappointed man. I caught a glimpse of the tiger racing over the hill and made a howl of distress. Mr Carsons slapped me across the leg, telling me to stop. He grabbed Becky’s arm. He were in a desperate, angry mood and asked her if it were a girl or boy tiger. She told the truth - it were a boy.

  Next morning Mr Carsons were up very early. He spent nearly the whole day digging a trench in the paddocks. I had no idea why he were doing it, nor did I care. I lied in the sun on the verandah catching up with me sleep while Becky played the piano over and over, the music sounding less … less jangled and nervous, more soft and gentle, and it had - if I had known the word then - melody.