Forest Shadows. David Laing
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to believe.
‘We picked this reprobate up at the jetty,’ Snook’s dad said, clapping Reg on the back. ‘He rang us on the Harbour Board’s two-way radio to let us know he was in town. He’s going to spend the night with us.’
He took Reg’s coat and then hung it on the kitchen door handle. He pointed to a seat. ‘Sit yourself down; judging by the smell, dinner’ll be ready soon.’
Fetching another plate and cutlery from the cupboard, Snook couldn’t help asking, ‘How come you’re in Cray Bay, Reg? Are you on a secret mission or somethin’?’
Reg, still grinning, shook his head.
‘Then maybe, if you’re not doin’ anything, you could help me and Jars look for whatever made them queer lights?’
Snook’s dad gave him a playful cuff behind the ear. ‘What are you talking about now? Have you been away with the fairies again? Go sit at the table and try to keep that tongue of yours still. We’ve got more important things than queer lights to discuss.’
Wondering what that could be, Jars began to dish out the meal – lamb chops, mashed potatoes, peas and gravy. She also wondered what Reg was doing in Cray Bay. Probably something official, she thought. Something to do with his work. He was an important man now. And no wonder. Reg was extraor-dinary. He had degrees in biology, genetics and speleology – the study of plants, animals and caves. And because of his exceptional qualifications and talent, he’d been given some higher-up position on the mainland. What that was she didn’t know. But why had he suddenly come to Cray Bay? He’ll tell us soon enough, she supposed.
Chapter Eleven
'This looks delicious,’ Reg commented as Jars set a plate of food before him.
Waving a fork in Jars’ direction, Jim laughed, and then said,
‘She’s the expert cook around here, Reg. That’s Jars’ job when-ever Irene’s away. Snook helps too. But tell me, what’s brought you to Cray Bay?’
‘Oh, nothing too exciting,’ he said, looking a little uncom-fortable. ‘I’m on a week’s holiday and I fancied coming down here to see all you guys again. Plus, if I can make it happen, I’d an inkling to spend a few days down south at the ranger’s shack in the Wild Rivers National Park. Just to have a look around, maybe see how the regrowth sections are progressing.’
‘Sounds like work to me,’ Jim commented, thinking his friend could be spending his holiday in more exciting ways.
‘No, nothing like that. All I’m looking for is a few days’ relax-ation.’
‘Here’s a thought,’ Jim said scratching his chin. ‘Seeing as you want to go south, you could hitch a ride with us on the boat. Arnie and I are heading for Strahan tomorrow. We’d be happy to drop you off wherever it is you’re going.’
‘It’s past Teepookana Landing, a bit out of your way I’m afraid. At any rate, I was going to hire a boat.’
‘Don’t even think it. A little detour’s not gonna worry us.’ He looked over the table at Jars and Snook. ‘You two can come as well. We’ll be away for the whole long weekend and I don’t fancy leaving you here on your own.’
‘What’s wrong with the usual grounds in the bay?’ Snook asked, not really looking forward to three days at sea.
‘Fished out if today’s any indication.’
Arnie nodded. ‘C-cray too small, eh, J-Jim? W-we have to go somewhere n-new now.’
‘That’s right,’ Snook’s dad said, picking up a chop with his fingers ready to chew on it. ‘That’s why we’re going to new grounds tomorrow; it’s a case of have to.’
‘Hang on, I’ve an idea,’ Reg said cutting in. ‘Why don’t the kids come with me instead of going on the boat? We could stay in the ranger’s shack. It’s fully equipped. It’d be our base camp. All we’d need is our sleeping bags and some food. What do you say?’
‘Sounds okay to me, Reg,’ Jim said, ‘as long as you don’t mind ’em tagging along, cramping your style so to speak.’
‘Not at all; they’d be good company.’ He grinned across the table. ‘What do you think, you two? Up for a few days in the bush?’
Snook banged a fist on the table. Then, unable to help himself, and in a high-pitched voice that made Jars jump, he yelled, ‘Wicked! A campin’ trip. We could go explorin’. Whatcha say, Jars? We might even find out what made them lights.’
Before Jars could say anything, Snook’s dad butted in. ‘Settle down, Snook or you’ll frighten the dog. Now, tell me, what’s this about lights? Queer lights, I think you said.’
Snook nodded and hurried to explain about the strange, flashing object in the sky, about the newscast on television and about their earlier plans to go looking for the UFO and any extra-terrestrials that happened to be in it.
His dad shook his head. ‘With your ability to land yourself in hot water, I’d say it’s just as well you’re not tearing around the countryside searching for any extra-whatsits. That little exercise would’ve ended in some sort of disaster for sure.’ He chuckled. ‘Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, you getting abducted by aliens. It’d save your mother and me a lot of grief.’
Snook gave a sheepish grin, guessing that his father was joking. At least he hoped he was. He decided not to pursue the matter.
With the decision made to go with Reg, Jars was secretly pleased. A long weekend staying in a cabin in the forest would be fun. Looking for some mysterious flying object would have been interesting, but, she felt certain, would also have been pretty much a waste of time ending with disappointment all round. Especially for Snook.
Besides saving Snook from being let down, it would also save both of them from the humiliation of the inevitable stares and gossip from the townsfolk, who, by now, were bound to have news of the Pearson gem theft.
Trying to stay positive, Jars’ mind drifted to other things. Life’s strange though, she found herself thinking: in a matter of one day, they’d being accused of theft; mysterious lights had suddenly appeared in the sky over their town; Quenton Quigley had found a riddle promising treasure and now here they were, going on a hurried trip into the wilderness. What next? she wondered. What else could possibly jump out and surprise them?
A loud knock on the door made them all turn and look.
Chapter Twelve
Jim strode to the front door and opened it. ‘Madeline? Quenton?’ he found himself asking, wondering what they could possibly want at this hour.
‘Sorry to barge in on you like this but I’ve a favour to ask,’ Mrs Quigley said. Jim saw at once that she was in quite a state. He also saw the overnight bag that Quenton was clutching.
Madeline Quigley’s bird-like way of talking, a sort of stop and start twitter, now sounded panicky, anxious. Something was worrying her.
‘Could I come in, Jim? I-I’d like to ask you something.’
‘Yes. Yes, do,’ he said, ‘Come on through.’ He led the way into the living room.
Hearing the muffled voices, and wondering what was going on, the others, including Shadow, left the kitchen to find out.
Mrs Quigley, who was now sitting on the settee, leaned forward, wringing her hands. ‘It’s my husband,’ she said, not wasting any words. ‘He’s being released from jail. He rang me from the prison. I have to pick him up tomorrow.’
She pulled a handkerchief from somewhere up her sleeve. She fussed and twisted it in her hands. Jim sat next to her wondering what to say. Consoling women in distress wasn’t his strong point. Feeling he needed to say something, he managed, ‘You don’t seem too