Thirst for Adventure

Chapter 24

By now it was dark. The small fire shed just a little light, enough for them to see that the people were sitting around the fire, apparently unconcerned about the baby. They could only assume that she was still under the canvas. They began to realise that there might be no brilliant solutions, that surprise and their own determination would be their only assets. They considered waiting until everyone had gone to sleep, but rejected the idea, in case they went to sleep under the canvas beside Jessie. But Leo did recollect one thing that might help them: the ground on which the people were camped was all earth and grass. There was no sign of any rocks. Yet the ridge that they were hiding behind was riddled with stones. He gathered ten or so, each about the size of his fist, and made a sling out of his shirt to carry them.

And so the plan had to be this: they would creep up from the undefended side and get as close as they could. When they were heard, as they undoubtedly would be, they would rush and hope. They agreed to make no human sounds, so that the assault might have as much mystery as possible. Adious would grab Jessie and Leo would hurl the rocks. If separated they would meet again at the intersection of the little track with the road.

It took them some twenty minutes to work their way around to a point that would bring them in at about the right place. Choked with fear and excitement, they began to worm forward. To Leo, every clatter and rustle that Adious made sounded momentously loud. He did not realise that his own sounds were just as loud, yet neither of them was making as much noise as he suspected.

It suddenly struck him that parents had always seemed to be so calm and unafraid, whatever the situation, and yet here they were, Jessie’s parents, feeling all the emotions that he had associated only with childhood. Leo began to wonder at the apparent strength of parents. How real was it?

He wriggled on a few more paces, then paused again. Now they could clearly see the light of the fire, and the dark shapes of the bodies sitting around it. One of the shapes stood up and seemed to be coming towards them. Leo gasped and trembled. But the man went to a tree and urinated against it, then returned to the fire. Leo could hear the low voices conversing around the flames.

The boy thought that they must surely only be twenty paces away from Jessie. He felt paralysed and dry but Adious moved forward again, and that spurred him on. This time, however, they started to encounter many dry sticks, and Leo knew that the noise they were making now was inevitably going to give them away. He dragged the sling of stones around to his front, then nudged Adious, stood up and charged.

In the darkness there were hazards with every step, dead branches that kicked at ankles and reared up into knees and groins. He was aware of scattering figures at the fire, of white twisted faces turned to him in anger, of Jessie’s sudden cry almost at his feet, and of Adious gathering up her daughter. Adious turned and ran, Leo made to follow, but realised that if he did they would both be swiftly caught.

He stayed where he was and plunged his hand into the sling to bring out a stone. He had a moment of even greater panic when he got his hand tangled up in the shirt and could not free the stone. Then its cool strength was in his hand and, closing his eyes at the enormity of what he was doing, he flung it with full strength at the head of one of the party coming towards him. Not at the first one, for he was so close that Leo could not find the cold-blooded power to throw it into his face. But the man he hit gave a kind of groaning gasp, raised his hands, and fell over backwards. Leo threw another stone, this time into the mouth of the man who was about to reach him. He turned and ran as he heard a gurgling scream.

He ran and ran, sobbing and talking to himself, smashing through undergrowth and obstacles. There were times when he thought he heard Adious in front of him, but it could have easily been animals that he had disturbed in his flight. It was quite a while before it dawned on him that there were no sounds from behind him. But he kept going, desperate to be clear of the area before daybreak.

He did not think about navigating until, after struggling through a particularly thick belt of vegetation, he suddenly found himself on a road. It ran north and south, but the road he wanted ran east and west. Nevertheless he took it, as a relief, and because he knew he was too far to the north anyway. And to his pleasure it soon began to curve to the south-east. He did not realise it was the road he wanted, the road he and Adious had travelled on, until he rounded a corner and saw her standing in front of him waiting warily with Jessie in her arms. He had come unexpectedly to the place they had chosen for their rendezvous.

Despite their exhaustion — which left them staggering like old people, at times not able to walk in a straight line — Leo and Adious travelled at a furious pace, to get away from

the bleak district which had proved such an ominous area for them. When they finally located their campsite again they found their few possessions pillaged, and anything of value taken, but they wasted no time rueing this new misfortune. They were just grateful to be able to get on their way.

Jessie was subdued for a day or two, but quickly regained her usual good spirits and curiosity. Yet her sleep was troubled and there was a new timidity in her. She woke up at slight sounds and liked to cuddle close to Leo and Adious when they slept. Leo found he had a blackness inside him now, a black boiling part that curdled and gave off fumes when he saw Jessie’s fear and thought of the shadowy people who had swept her away in the middle of the night.

It was a week before the small family felt safe enough to be able to rest. By then they were three days clear of the wastelands and in country that was lush with sky-swept grass. By a small lake they lay and slept and ate and allowed themselves to dream a little again. Though they were not yet in country that they recognised, it was nevertheless of a type familiar enough to them to suggest that they were nearing their destinations. Leo began to feel nervous and excited. He wondered if he had learnt all that he was supposed to, all that he could have learnt. In his mind he had the general outlines of most of his seven stories established, but there were many details to work out and the idea of telling them to an audience of respected elders and leaders, back in his own valley, made his legs feel a little weak.

‘Do you think I’ve changed much?’ he asked Adious.

‘Oh yes,’ she replied, shocked that he could even wonder.

‘In what ways?’ Leo persisted. Adious had to think.

‘Well,’ she said, chewing thoughtfully on a stick, ‘I don’t know, really. All of the things I think of, when I think about them for a minute, I realise you always had, only now a little more so, if you see what I mean. I was going to say, you’ve become more mature and responsible, but then you were mature and responsible right from the start. Then I was going to say that you’ve become more interesting, with your poetry and stuff, and some of the things you say, but you were interesting right from the start too. Sometimes I think you’re too serious, but just as I start thinking that you go and do something mad like this morning, pretending the clouds were kites, that you had on a string — I like your imagination. And I like your sense of humour. And I like your body.’

She began tickling Leo, who rolled over and over, giggling and fighting her off. ‘Careful, you’ll wake the baby’, he protested. They rolled into the shallows of the lake and the tickling turned into erotic fondling — within minutes they were making love in the warm water, their bodies caressed by the rippling waves. The few clothes they had been wearing were floating around them; they had to keep pushing them away. But soon they were too intent on their own engulfing feelings to notice any distractions.

When it was over they lay in the shallows, mesmerised by the water.

‘Oh,’ sighed Adious, ‘I don’t think staying with my aunt is going to be a lot of fun.’ Leo gently disengaged himself, rolled over on his back, and lay looking up at the few light clouds. He thought vaguely that a poem about voyages would be a good thing to write: about voyages across oceans and into the shallows of a lake, about voyages away from harbours and to the dark green side of the moon, voyages into Adious and into himself. He hauled himself out of the water and onto the sands, so that he could dream without drowning, and drifted away on his own weather-beaten ship, a colourful junk of patches and pictures and strange sailing people. Remembering a woman he had helped bury on a beach, he began to form words in his head.

A vessel, fresh-launched, knows nothing

Of how the sea behaves.

All that it has, and all that it learns

Comes from the wind and the reef and the waves.

Fresh-launched, the vessel does not know

How even a harbour harbours graves.

A voyage that never leaves shelter

Is one for the weak and the small.

The strength a ship has, comes from its fight

To weather the rips and the rocks and the squalls.

Such a vessel, straining onwards,

Need not fear the deep pitfalls.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Autumn had taken its first discreet initiatives as Leo trudged up the long white driveway that led home. He was tired, but his eyes scanned every detail keenly. Everything was the same, and yet everything was not the same. That walnut tree there, it still stood, and was indisputably the same tree, but a branch was missing from its lower limbs, and a ladder leaned against its trunk. Some work had been done on enlarging the dam in South Austin, but it was unfinished, and it looked as though the job had been waiting quite a time to be completed. Leo found the paradox, of familiar sights that had become unfamiliar, disconcerting. It was rather like a reunion with an old friend who had gained weight, changed his hairstyle, and now dressed differently. Such a person could never be a stranger, but could never again be the same old friend either.

Leo also found the condition of the fences worrying. His father had always told him that a farm could be judged by its fences, and here they were in a shabby state. Repairs had been made, and holes patched, but not with the high standard of workmanship that Leo had come to take for granted.

He had sometimes considered the possibility that he might return to find his parents infirm, ill, or even dead, but this had been a hypothetical dilemma, a mere daydream. Now the daydream merged with the reality and his anxiety heightened. He increased his pace, but knew it would be a long half-hour before he would reach the house.

It was in fact a little under twenty minutes before he came to the familiar cluster of buildings. He was impressed by his own speed and realised just how much he had grown in strength and fitness and vigour. The walk to the road had once seemed to him a major expedition: now it was a thing of no consequence. But that was something to ponder over; for the moment there was the sight that he had hungered for. In front of him was his dog, Dusty. Dusty began to bark at the apparent stranger then took a tentative step forward in an apprehension of delight, then another step as his face began to open in a beam of joy. His wonderful dream was confirmed and he leaped about in an ecstasy of barks and yelps, performing acrobatics all over and around the boy. Leo dropped to his knees, trying in vain to hug the dog, but Dusty’s delirium of delight could not be contained for a moment. Leo’ face was slathered with Dusty’s tongue as the dog kissed him and butted him and fell all over him in a madness of love. It was a full five minutes before Leo finally found the ruthlessness to get up again and walk on towards the house, with Dusty at his heels, under his feet, or scooting around him in circles of joyful abandonment, still whining to himself in a frenzy of happiness.