Fathers Page 11
“They’ll find them alright and they’ll bail but they won’t hold them. Nor do I want them to hold them; I don’t want them gored by some nasty old boar! They’re too gooda dogs for that. Anyway I’m not sure they’ll do any of that for you Doug, they haven’t exactly taken a shine to you which is strange as they usually get on with most people.”
He shrugged. “Yeah I’ve noticed. Not sure why that is. I love animals I do, even had a pup when I was a kid, loved it ta bits I did. Anyway I was thinking maybe Jack could come with me. I’d show him how ta hunt and he could run the dogs for me. I think he’d like that.”
“Well you could ask him. When were you thinking of going?”
“Tomorrow morning, early. I know he’s got school tomorrow but it’s Friday and this will be an education wont it? I mean a boy should learn how ta hunt ‘specially if he lives out here in the wops.”
“I’m sure Jack will jump at the chance, especially if it means he misses out on school. One day shouldn’t matter. We can ask him when we get home.”
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Sitting around the dining table eating the evening meal the question was put to Jack by Ellen.
“When?” Asked Jack.
“Tomorrow morning, you would have to miss school,” said Ellen.
“But tomorrows Friday!” Said Jack a little too quickly.
“Yeah? Why does that make a difference?”
With a sheepish grin he said, “Um, ah, it’s just that I was thinking of going to the river with Wiremu. I mean after school of course.”
“I’m sure you would be back in time to do that, wouldn’t he Doug?”
Jack thought: So she’s calling him Doug now... Can’t she see that he’s strange and creepy, even Jess and Tess don’t like him, so it’s not just me.
“I’d expect so Ellen. Thought you’d jump at the chance Jack. I can show ya how it’s done. Be a good chance to hunt some real game, something that could fight back. They can turn on ya if ya get ‘em cornered. Not like the ol’ bunny rabbit eh Jack?”
Red faced Jack said, “Um, yeah, s’pose I could give it a go.”
“Jesus Christ, show some enthusiasm son!” Said Doug.
“I’m not your son and you’re not my Dad!” Yelled Jack and got up and ran from the kitchen.
Ellen said, “Sorry about that Doug, I’ll go speak to him. Stay here and finish your tea. He’s been through a lot lately and he misses his father terribly.”
Angrily Doug said, “Yeah well someone needs to teach the boy some manners. I mean I’m tryin’ to do him a favour. I thought he’d enjoy a little huntin’ trip but if he doesn’t wanna come then I’m not goin’ to drag him up there!”
“Alright Doug, I said I will speak to him. I’m sure he’ll come around once I’ve had a word. You’ll just have to be patient with him till he gets to know you better that’s all.”
“Oh, I’ll be patient alright,” he said with a sneer. “I’m an expert when it comes ta patience Ellen.”
Feeling oddly uncomfortable and a little baffled with Doug’s last comment, Ellen went to find Jack. She could see a pair of boy’s legs sticking out the entrance of the large kennel that housed both Jess and Tess. Jack was discussing all his problems with the two dogs that were housed in there. “Jack are you alright?” She asked.
“Yep.”
“Come out here and see your mother. We need to talk.”
“What about?”
“Lots of things Jack but I can’t talk to you with your head stuck in a kennel.”
Jack disappeared into the kennel, turned around, then came out and stood up. He hung his head, looked at his feet and kicked a bone that was bleached white by the sun and devoid of any meat. With her hands on her hips she said, “Look at me Jack.” Jack looked up into his mothers face. Tears welled in his emerald eyes not unlike his mothers. She continued. “I know your still hurting Jack and you haven’t been the same since you lost your father but we need to try and make the best of what we’ve got. I miss your father too but us missing him isn’t going to bring him back. Now I realise that Mister Brown is no substitute for your father but he’s helping us out at the moment and we need to be grateful for that. I still expect you to show some manners and to treat your elders with respect when they talk to you. Saying what you said in the kitchen was rude and I don’t want to hear you talk like that again to Mister Brown or any other adult okay? Do I make myself clear young man?”
“He’s not my father.”
“No one said he was Jack but that gives you no right to talk to him like that!”
“He called me son.”
“So, he didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just a name, lots of adults call boys son. Don’t you go reading anything into that Jack. Your reaction to him has really upset him.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah right,” he said.
Ellen waggled her finger at him “What is wrong with you Jack? You need to snap out of this right now or I’ll give you something that‘ll make you snap out of it, whether you like it or not!”
Jack pleaded with his mother, “I just don’t like him mum. He gives me the creeps and I don’t trust him, and you’re calling him Doug now!” A tear trickled down his face.
She threw her hands in the air. “Ah, so this is what it’s all about is it Jack? You think I’m becoming too friendly with him? That he’s going to replace your father? Well be rest assured son; that is not going to happen. We need him for what he is; a help ‘round the farm and well make the most of his skills while we can. There isn’t anything more to it Jack. He’s here ‘cause I need him. ‘Cause we need him. Nothing more.”
“I s’pose,” he said looking at his feet again.
“Jack you need to stop worrying about what may or may not happen and just enjoy the fact that we have our farm back on track. And that we have good food in our bellies and a little money coming in to buy the other things we need. Were not relying on charity anymore and that’s important to me. Why, we haven’t been this well off since your father left to go to war. And speaking of war Jack, things are looking up in that department too. They reckon it will be all over with the Germans in a couple of months, or less, and that’ll make a difference to a lot of things, for the better I mean. Now the best thing you can do is get back inside and apologise to Mister Brown and tell him you’re keen as mustard to go hunting with him in the morning.”
He looked up at his mother and whined, “Aw, really mum, do I have to apologise?”
“Yes you do Jack and I want you to try and get on with him tomorrow and get out there and enjoy yourself. Or else!”
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The sky was starting to lighten and the chorus of song from the birds increased with the rising of the sun. Jack and Doug and the two dogs, Jess and Tess, made their way quietly through the bush to an area where they remained hidden but had an unobstructed view of the clearing. A light breeze caressed their faces and took their scent away from the direction they hoped the pigs would be. It was still quite dark in the bush but the clearing stood illuminated before them. The ground had been turned over although there were still some good areas of grass left. It was about the size of a rugby field and sloped, with logs from old giant trees that once stood proud, scattered here and there. These provided shelter to any animals that frequented the clearing and it was quite possible, Doug thought, that they may be concealing his quarry right now. The dogs were on their leashes and Jack was having trouble controlling them. They were alert, ears pricked, noses in the air, sniffing constantly, reading the messages coming through the breeze. They were restless and wanted to be let loose. Let loose on their prey. One of the dogs whimpered with eagerness and anticipation. Oh, there are pigs there alright, thought Doug. Now do I wait for them to show themselves from behind the logs and then calmly pick them off? Or do I send the dogs in and cause them to run in all direct
ions? No, he would wait and listen and watch and be patient. Patience Douggie, that’s the key to this hunting game.
One of the dogs whined, loudly this time, and Doug shot a filthy look at Jack. “Shut that fuckin’ thing up!” He muttered angrily.
“Quiet Jess,” whispered Jack as both dogs struggled to break free from his grip. “I can’t hold them much longer Mister Brown my arms are starting to hurt,” he pleaded.
“You’ll hold them as long as I tell ya to. You let those mongrels go and there’ll be hell ta pay!” Doug glared at Jack as he reddened and looked away.
Steam was rising from the dewy grass and logs as the rays of the sun peeped over the hill and lit the clearing. A pig grunted from behind a log, another farted and another rubbed its body against a tree stump. Piglets squealed and a couple of them ran out from behind a log and into the view of the hunters. This was too much for the dogs as they wrenched the leads from Jacks hands, breaking free from his grip and took off towards the clearing with their leashes trailing behind them. “Aw for Christ sake, that’s fucked it up!” Yelled Doug. “Stand by for chaos!” He screamed, as he stood with rifle in hand.
And it was. Utter chaos. The dogs raced into the clearing and disappeared behind a log. Pigs exploded from behind their cover, bursting in all directions. They were all different colours and sizes. Black and white sows. Black boars, brown piglets, red and black and brown and white porkers, and boars and sows and piglets and they all ran. Squealing, grunting, snorting and galloping frantically all over the place. Dogs were barking; nipping at their heels. Twenty, thirty, forty, no maybe fifty pigs careering in all directions. They were tripping, skidding, rolling and in some cases somersaulting head over heels in their desperateness to escape. They crashed through shrubs and smashed into trees and collided with each other. Jack had never seen anything like it and he stood there mouth agape, wide eyed as he took in the scene before him. A dozen pigs ran blindly towards Jack and Doug, not seeing them, concerned only with the dogs behind them. Jack screamed and dived for cover as a large black and white boar with yellow tusks bore down on him, intent on going straight through like an express train, barrelling anything in its path. A smaller pig, brown in colour, ran right over the top of him as he lay on the ground. The dogs close behind. Doug had the rifle up and fired from the hip as a large black sow thundered towards him. Missed. He stepped to one side as the pig ran past but it clipped his knee and sat him on his backside with a thump and a grunt. Several other pigs ran near them and between them and around them and then vanished in the supplejack and fern and scrub and bush.
“On your feet boy and let’s get chasing those bloody dogs ‘cause I ‘aint goin home empty handed!” Yelled Doug excitedly. He rose to his feet, ejected the spent shell from the rifle and loaded another. He walked over to Jack and quickly looked him over. “You’re not hurt are ya..? Nah, ya look fine ta me. Now listen out for ya dogs ‘cause they’re chasing one of those bastards and their barking is the only way were goin’ ta find ‘em. Right, let’s get a move on before those pigs get the better of those mutts of yours.” And he started to run straight through the bush. Jack stood there, dumbfounded, watching as Doug disappeared through the scrub and trees. Doug stopped and turned. “What the hell are you waiting for you dopey beggar. Start movin’!” Yelled Doug
“Um, yeah, okay.” And Jack started to jog towards Doug.
“You’ll need to get those legs pumping faster than that if ya goin’to keep up boy ‘cause this aint goin’to be a stroll in the country. I promised ya mother pork and I aint headin’ home without some!”
The dogs were barking in the distance. Down in a gut somewhere, far off, far away. The man and the boy crashed through the bush; jumping over logs, smashing through scrub, ducking under branches, tripping over roots, tangling in vines, running face first into cobwebs, sloshing through mud, breathing in clouds of insects that were disturbed as they muscled their way through the foliage. Ripping their clothes and skin on bush lawyer, the thorny vine that cuts and tears its victims as they stumble into it. Sweat was running off their face, mingling with the dirt and insects and dead foliage and getting into their eyes, stinging them, making them blind for a second or two. And on they ran, sucking in great lung fills of air. Hearts pounding, legs pumping, swatting plants and vines and insects from their faces and bodies as they took the shortest possible route through the bush to the dogs and the pig that they held. Eventually they stopped on a ridge, both of them breathing hard, clothes and bodies drenched in sweat, listening for the dogs, trying to pin point the location, taking their time, grateful for the rest. They could hear them, closer now but way down in a gut, their barks amplified by the valley walls. Doug looked at Jack and lifted his eyebrows. Jack nodded and they were off again. Cannoning downhill. Dodging trees, slipping over, skidding, tumbling, over balancing on legs running too fast of their own accord because of the slope and momentum. Uncontrollable they were. Skating on loose stones. Swinging off a Rata root dangling down from its host tree, grasping saplings and vines to slow their rapid descent. They could hear water now, a creek at the bottom of the valley, the barking of the dogs louder. Grunts and squeals from the pig as they closed in. In a matter of minutes they would be there. Doug suddenly stopped and Jack collided into the back off him, almost sending Doug over the edge of the bank he was standing on. “Shit, careful,” Doug wheezed. “Now we take it easy. We want to move in very quietly so I can get a shot in without the pig seeing us. If we race in there, he’s likely to make a bolt for it and we’ll be chasing him all over the country side again,” he added.
“Careful of my dogs though, watch you don’t hit them!” Puffed Jack.
Angrily Doug snapped back, “You just worry about yerself and I’ll worry about everything else! Make sure you stay behind me and keep quiet; I don’t want you stuffing things up. Ya dogs have caused me enough troubles today and I don’t want you causin’ me anymore strife!”
They continued quietly down until they were in the creek bed. The dogs had the pig baled further up the creek and they made their way slowly towards the fracas. The pig, a boar, maybe 200 pounds. A black beast, with tusks that curled outward from its bottom jaw, was backed up in a little hollow in a bank by the creek. Jess and Tess had it cornered, standing in front of it, threatening it, worrying it, snarling, snapping, barking in its face, lunging forward then jumping back as the boar charged and then moved back into the hollow. They were all tiring; the dogs dripped saliva from their mouths as they panted rapidly, their long tongues hanging slack, almost touching the ground. The pig was the same, panting, sweating and fretting. Jack stepped on a stick and with a loud CRACK both dogs turned. The pig took its chance and shot forward. Jess saw the pig and grabbed its ear and the boar thrashed its head trying to rid itself of the dog. Tess attacked the other ear but she was slower, taken off guard by the approach of the man and the boy. The pig caught her in the side of her neck ripping a gash from ear to shoulder with its tusks. Tess’ white and brown coat turned red with blood as it gushed from the wound.
BOOM!
Doug fired the .303. The solid military projectile hit the boar smack between the eyes and punched through the dense skull, through the brain and lodged itself somewhere between the forequarters. The pig dropped like a stone, instantly dead, the twitch of an eyelid the only reminder it ever lived. Doug quickly reloaded. Jess hung onto the ear ripping at it until she realised that the boar was actually dead and then she started licking the blood as it came out through the wound in the head. Tess had staggered away and had laid down, panting, tail slowly wagging and slapping the ground as she saw Jack run towards her. Jack quickly put his hand over the wound in her neck to stem the blood flow, red liquid running through his small fingers. “Help me please Mister Brown, I think Tess is dying,” he pleaded.
Ignoring Jack, Doug approached the pig. Jess slinked away quickly and went and drunk greedily from the creek. Doug said excitedly, “Would you look at the size of that! Woohoo, that’s a g
ood size boar, a bloody beauty! And what a shot ‘eh! Pole axed the bugger!”
“Mister Brown, there’s blood coming from Tess’ neck. Can you help her please?” Pleaded Jack.
Doug ignored him. “And those tusks, I’m definitely havin’ those. They’ll be goin’ on display that’s for sure!”
“TESS IS DYING, HELP HER NOW!” Screamed Jack.
Doug turned and stared at Jack and the dog, rifle slung from his hip pointing in their direction. “What the fuck did you say?”
“Tess, she’s hurt, can you please help her?” Jack replied in a quieter voice.
“I don’t like your attitude boy. You need to be taught some manners!”
“Okay. Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that she’s hurt real bad Mister Brown and I’m afraid she might die if we don’t help her.”
“Alright, alright, stop your whining. Step out of the way and let me have a look. C’mon, c’mon out of the way so I can get in there,” said Doug as he walked towards Jack and Tess.
Jack got up and left Tess taking his hand off the wound in her neck as he did so. Fresh blood seeped from the gash, however it was slower than before. A good sign Jack thought. Tess’ lips curled back and exposed her teeth as Doug approached, she growled and tried to get to her feet.
BOOM!
In an instant Doug had the rifle to her head and had pulled the trigger, blowing a hole through the top of her head and demolishing her bottom jaw with the blast.
“NOOOOO!” Screamed Jack and ran to Tess wrapping his arms around her body.
“Best thing for it Jack, the dog was in pain. It wouldn’t have survived much longer anyway.”
“YOU BASTARD, YOU BASTARD, YOU BASTARD!” Screamed Jack through tears while he held his dog, rocking backwards and forwards, blood running over his legs and arms. Jess was barking, growling, pacing up and down in the creek.
“Now hold on a minute you little runt. I was doin’ the right thing here. There’s no way it would’ve survived and there’s no way we coulda carried it outta here if it did anyway. Not with the pig an’ all!”