Alan Hutcheson Boomerang (pdf)

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unpleasant pressure.
AMELIA!
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Trying to make as much of the action originate at the knees and below as
she could, Amelia trotted over to the open elevator doors, where Doreen stood
tapping her foot and glaring.
They arrived at the front entrance of the Brisbane Sheraton at five minutes
before seven o'clock; the morning light was just beginning to appear in the sky.
Doreen planted herself directly in front of the steps leading to the entrance and
stared down the doorman, who, to his credit, recognized superior forces and
offered no resistance. Amelia stood just to the side of the bottom step and
looked uncomfortable.
At seven o clock sharp, a tan Land Cruiser with a caricature of a
kookaburra and the words No Worries Tours painted in bright blues and
oranges on the side, pulled up in the space left by a departing cab. A handsome,
tanned man of perhaps fifty-five years, dressed in tan chinos and a blue cotton
shirt, stepped out. Doreen stepped immediately to the curb and motioned for
Amelia to follow.
G'day. Miss Lewis and Mrs. Scott I believe? The man greeted the two
women with a wide, genuine smile. My name is Cy Hobarth. Looks like we've
got ourselves a lovely day.
Doreen grunted and eyed the door.
Here we go, said Cy. He opened the door for the two women. Amelia
eased her way in after her sister. She sat with her rear at the very edge of the
seat, her neck resting on the top of the seat back.
Seat belts, please! Cy announced cheerily before he closed the door and
circled around to the driver's side.
Amelia, for pity's sake, sit properly! Doreen snapped.
I can't Doreen dear, said Amelia. She pointed at her zipper and shrugged.
Doreen snorted.
What's that, miss? Cy climbed in and turned around to face the women.
The one in the shamrock green skirt and ridiculous boots seemed to be sliding
forward.
Nothing, said Doreen. She gave Amelia a sharp poke in the side.
With a great effort, Amelia bent herself into very nearly the required right
angle and clicked on her seat-belt.
That's right, said Cy. He took a leather-bound book from the front
passenger seat and handed it back to Amelia. If I could ask you ladies to fill
out my guest book? You'll find a pen inside the book there. From Canberra,
aren't you? Lovely city, that. My wife has an aunt living there. We visit every
other year or so. Always enjoy looking about. Perhaps you ladies could tell me
40
about some of your favorite spots there. Always ask the natives they say.
Amelia, trying her best to get into the spirit of her Canberrian character, not
to mention get her mind off her compressed vital organs, piped right in. Oh, it
is a lovely city. Of course, Loretta and I don't get out as much as we should, but
there are so many lovely spots there. In Canberra. We're from Canberra, aren't
we, Loretta dear?
Doreen gave Amelia another shot in the side, resulting in a slight whining
exhalation followed by pained silence.
Please feel free to look us up next time you and the wife are in Canberra,"
Doreen growled. "We will be very happy to give you an exclusive tour at one-
hundred-ten dollars each. Now, will we be getting on with it? Or do we spend
a large portion of our morning observing this section of Turbot Street? She
snatched the guest book out of Amelia's hands, tossed it back on to the front
passenger seat and folded her arms.
Off we go, ladies, Cy said aloud. To himself he thought, it is going to be a
long day.
Cy disliked running one of his full-day tours partially booked; the Land
Cruiser could comfortably seat five besides himself. But, there you were, some
days were going to be better than others. Until he had gotten the call booking
these two old biddies, the day had looked to be one of replenishing pamphlets
at concierge desks. Better make the best of it.
As they left downtown Brisbane behind, he began his commentary about
where they were headed and what they could expect to see. His encyclopedic
knowledge of the area invariably resulted in remarks of admiration and led to
more questions and answers. This morning, however, it quickly became
apparent that his two guests were not going to respond. The sharp-tongued one
just sat there, a presence of irritation and impatience, and the other one seemed
to have a sort of nervous disorder. Cy could see her face in the rear view mirror
very well by just tilting his head slightly to the left and her expression was a
constant, pinched grimace. By the time they reached the outskirts of the city he
had given up trying any conversation or education and resigned himself to
assuming the role of silent chauffeur.
Twenty minutes after they pulled away from the Sheraton the sour one
spoke.
How soon do we get to Queen Mary Falls?
Oh, that'll be right about lunch time, Mrs. Scott. It's a lovely place and
we'll spend some time there. Good place for kookaburras and
Not until lunch? It's not that far, is it?
41
No, not so very far, as the highway goes. But we do have a lot of beautiful
land to see between here and there. Wouldn't want you to miss out on any of
your hundred and ten dollars worth, now would we?
Cy felt ashamed of himself for the last comment, but out it had come and
had to take care of itself now. They drove on in silence.
The entire morning fell flat. None of Cy's warm, sincere enthusiasm for the
beautiful land and its people both of which he knew so well created any
spark of interest with this curious pair. Even the time he had to get out to check
the depth and current of the Condamine River before fording brought no
comment. Usually he would leave the key in the Land Cruiser and designate a
replacement driver Just in case the crocs get me. but this morning there was
no point.
By quarter past noon they were within a mile of Queen Mary Falls. At this
point, Cy s usual routine was to try to build some anticipation by describing
the beauty and drama of the falls along with the possibility of sighting crimson
rosella, kookabura, and perhaps even the elusive platypus along the trail that
wound from the road to where the water tumbled one hundred and twenty feet
to the misty pool at its feet. This afternoon he broke the long silence by simply
announcing, Queen Mary Falls coming up ladies. We'll be stopping for
lunch.
Lunch? said Amelia, sounding doubtful.
The Knudsons put out a wonderful meal. I promise you won t go hungry.
How long? said Doreen.
Soon, Cy said aloud. But not soon enough, he said to himself.
Two minutes later the Land Cruiser was crunching its way over the gravel
drive leading to a neat white house across the road from the path to the falls.
Doreen was out of the door almost before the Land Cruiser had come to a full
stop. Amelia followed with an almost desperate enthusiasm. In what resembled
an unpracticed dismount by an aging gymnast in a unique national costume,
she managed to swing her legs around, heels together, grab the upper ledge of
the door opening, and jettison herself onto the driveway. Her boots traveled
somewhat farther and faster than the rest of her on the gravel surface and she
ended up sitting quite suddenly.
Here you go Miss Lewis. Cy held out a hand, but Amelia waved it off
with one hand; the other hand was in front of her mouth.
I think I d like to sit for a moment, she said softly.
Which one is the shop? Doreen demanded.
Just to your left, there, Mrs. Scott, said Cy, keeping an eye on Amelia,
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who had closed her eyes and was taking in slow, shallow breaths. We'll have a
chance to visit the shop after lunch.
Amelia moaned and leaned forward. Her zipper gapped again.
Mrs. Scott, I think perhaps we might need some assistance here, said Cy.
Mrs. Scott?
But Doreen was stomping around the side of the indicated outbuilding, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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