WILD ORCHIDS - CHAPTER THREE

By Denise Main and Ian Chisholm

The ear-splitting roar of an outboard motor shattered the stillness of the early morning and jolted them wide awake.

‘What the hell’s that?’ Archie’s voice croakily demanded.

‘Some clown loves to hear his two hundred horsepower at full throttle when there’s no other competition,’ George fired back. ‘I’m over that sort of moronic behaviour.’

‘Me too,’ Archie grumbled. ‘What’s more, they have no consideration for poor simple folk sleeping rough and wanting some peace and quiet, even if it is under a pier.’

‘Here, here, Arch. I second that. How did you sleep?’ George yawned and scratched his head.

‘Took me a while, but eventually, I got a few hours. How about you?’ Archie said with a groan and crawled to see what was happening on the waterfront. ‘It’s gotta be early, barely dawn, streetlights are still shining. I’m snuggling down again. Could do with more shuteye.’

George ignored Archie’s attempt to go back to sleep and continued talking. ‘My mind was too full of exploring this lovely place, where to start and heaps of other stuff swirling around. Then having to crawl out for a pee didn’t help with getting to sleep. I had no idea of the time, but it was worth the trip to see the rollers glistening in the moonlight. Then when I finally drifted off, this bloody clown decides to wake up the whole bloody town.’ George grumbled.

‘Not too keen about your swearing George. Anyway, we’re awake now. Maybe we should get an early start. I will do anything to find an early morning café open for I’m dying for a coffee to settle my nerves and have something solid in my breadbasket,’ Archie groaned, rubbing his stomach.

‘Sounds pretty good Arch.’ George agreed. ‘However, I think it will have to be the last time I’ll spend money on a sit-down meal for a while. My wallet just won’t allow too much of a leak. But I did enjoy that meal in the Fingal Tavern last night. Nice pub, good atmosphere. Maybe we should leave our gear here and after breakfast look for a better place. Then we can see if Fingal Sound really stacks up against what Beanie man told us.’

Archie, now wide awake, added, ‘I have an idea. What say we check out the bridges, apart from the one we saw yesterday. That one’s way too busy.’

‘Yeah, let’s nose around, sniff the air; we need something a bit more out of the way. But let’s stay under the pier again tonight. At least we know it’s alright and our gear is surely well hidden. And maybe that smart arse with the excess horsepower might hit a big wave and sink.’

They rolled up their sleeping bags, pushed the old cases well under the lowest section of the pier and crawled to where they were able to stretch to a crouch and leave the pier.

Dawn’s light washed the sky pink. The bracing sea air stung their faces like a slap. Wrapping their threadbare coats tightly around them they hurried toward the public toilets for urgent relief and a cold-water splash.

‘Not much I can do with this lot,’ George said, as he ran his fingers through his hair, dripping from a dunking under a tap of freezing water.

Archie scrubbed at a dribble of tomato sauce on the front of his jumper.

‘I’ll have to see if I can get a new one at an Op Shop soon. This one’s not going to hang in for much longer,’ he said, his eyes appraising the threadbare garment.

‘Out damn spot,’ George said dramatically with a stage like gesture to Archie’s dismissive stare.

It was too early to find a coffee shop open, so they walked to fill in time and came to the public gardens in which was a modern cream building with the sign, Library. They found a bench in a patch of thin, early morning sunshine.

‘Archie, if I stay in this town for any length of time, this is one place I’m sure to visit. I miss many things while living rough, but most of all is having my books with me.’

‘I have the only book I need. It’s with me always,’ Archie said quietly. George just looked, said nothing.

Back in Mortimer Street they saw that the Banksia Coffee Shop was clearly open for business.

‘I’m starving. Let’s go.’

Archie needed no encouragement. They made straight for the café and not wanting to look conspicuous they entered closely behind a small group of workers. The smell of bacon, sausages and coffee filled the warm interior of the café. Glancing around they spotted a vacant table next to two blokes in high vis jackets chatting loudly as they devoured massive servings of toast, eggs and hash browns. Archie’s mouth watered at the sight.

‘George, how much have you got to spend? Cos I can help you out if you’re skint.’

‘Thanks for the offer, Archie. I’m OK for today.’

After a meagre breakfast of strong coffee and a shared muffin, they left knowing that could be their only meal for the day. In the distance, faintly at first, then more piercing, came the urgent wail of a siren. Anxiously, they looked at each other.

‘Quick, Archie, into this doorway.’ George grabbed Archie’s arm. Backed into the doorway they tensed, their hearts pounding. The siren shrieked. Lights flashed. A police car roared passed. Then, quicker than its approach, it was gone. The siren’s wail trailed into the distance, the early morning, quiet again.

‘Gosh George, that sure gave me one hell of a fright. Could they be after us? Maybe that maniac in the hostel haskarked it. I’m afraid I’m gonna jump every time I even see a cop for a while. I’m worried, maybe we shouldn’t have bailed out of that dump before making sure that loonie was alright.’

‘Yeah, but maybe we’re jumping at shadows. The police wouldn’t send a car with its flashing lights, bells and whistles to pick up the likes of us. It would be more like a Constable Plod who would seek us out and ask awkward questions,’ George said, wanting to ease the rising anxiety he had tried to mask. He had a morbid response to the wail of sirens. The piercing sound always brought about a melancholic foreboding, that significantly upset him for no good reason.

‘You’re right, perhaps my nerves are getting the better of me. We’ll just have to keep a check on the news, as best we can and hope it will all blow over soon. Otherwise, I’m going to get the yips every time I see a uniform or a cop car.’

‘OK Archie, let’s move on and see what else this town has.’

‘Yair, but I’m not sure how much longer these shoes are going to last, the cutout cardboard soles are fast wearing thin,’ Archie replied ruefully.

They tossed a coin and decided they would walk away from the centre of town in the direction of a timbered ridge which rose impressively in the distance. After trudging for a kilometre, they reached the outskirts of town, footsore and fast losing interest. George stopped suddenly in his tracks.

‘Hey, there, ahead, look. That could be the very thing I’ve had in mind. Far enough out of town and by God, it’s solid. Let’s take a closer look.’ Quickly they scrambled down the overgrown grassy bank.

‘This could be the one. What do you think?’ George turned to Archie who was staring into the dark shadows of the bridge’s arching blue stone roof.

‘It’s a bit gothic like from down here, that’s if you use your imagination. I just love the history of these structures and the wonderful stories they could tell.’ Archie walked over to the stone sides, patted the cold stonework and ran his hands along the rough-hewn surface. He continued to walk around as if he were inspecting a house for sale.

‘There is enough space to set up camp on this side and well away from the creek.’ Archie pointed to a raised dry area tucked well up to the solid bluestone wall that formed the base of the arch and hidden from view by long grass.

George nodded, paced out Archie’s suggested area, left the cool shadows for the warmth of the sunlight and walked along the creek’s lush bank. He then clambered up the steep bank and walked along the footpaths over the bridge. Two cars swished by, but no sign of foot traffic.

‘Not at all bad, well hidden from view and with fresh running water on tap too,’ George suggested, when he scrambled back to Archie under the bridge. ‘What do you reckon?’ George had already decided he would camp under the bridge even if Archie didn’t want to.

After a short silence George quietly added, ‘Archie, you don’t have to stay with me you know, no obligation if you want to head off to do your own thing,’ he said not looking at Archie as he kicked an empty can out of sight into the bushes.

Archie responded, ‘Count me in for now. I’m willing to give it a go, even for a bit. It’s out of the way and yet close enough to the town’s centre. It seems safe and high enough to avoid getting flooded out by a rising creek. We’ll see how it works out. Let’s say we give it a go for a week or two before we decide whether to stay together and in Fingal Sound,’ Archie said shyly, scraping a flat mound of dirt with his worn-out shoe.