Into That Forest - By Louis Nowra Page 0,38

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 foot- steps 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