The Long Journey. Susan Wright

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The Long Journey - Susan  Wright


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Dooley, are you still overcharging your customers?’

      ‘Helmut my friend how are you?’ he said. Genuine pleasure showing on his face at seeing his old friend again. ‘If all my customers were like you and only came twice a year I wouldn’t be able to make a living at all.’

      ‘Well you can always go back to growing spuds; you Irish are good at that.’

      ‘And to be sure haven’t I seen enough spuds to do me a lifetime. My poor wife would never forgive me if I did that.’

      ‘How is Jean?’

      ‘You know Jean; always so busy helping some poor soul. I am sure her face is the first face that half the people in this town saw when they arrived into this world.’ He thought of his wife of twenty years, as wide as she was tall. To everyone that met her she was a picture of health and happiness but only he knew of the deep emptiness within her. When they first married they joked that they wanted at least a dozen kids but as the years went by they stopped joking about it in fact they didn’t even talk about it any more. Jean was nearing forty and they accepted that the dream had to be buried. Maybe that was why she took up being a midwife at least it was a share in someone else’s happiness. Helmut was well aware of the inner sufferings of his friends James and Jean although they did their best to hide these.

      ‘Come the spring why don’t you bring Jean out to the farm, goodness only knows the place could do with a woman’s touch.’

      ‘You are a grand man Helmut despite the fact that you are German. I just might take you up on that offer.’

      The two old friends laughed and got down to the serious business of cutting hair. They spent an enjoyable half hour catching up with all the gossip of the town and complaining about the weather and the rise in prices. They then drank a cup of tea and ate a large slice of Jeans fruit cake. They were making their plans for the following spring when Helmut remembered the woman.

      ‘I saw the strangest thing on my way into town. There was a well dressed woman sitting on the side of the road. She had been crying so I offered her a lift into town but she refused. I didn’t like leaving her out there who knows what could happen to her.’

      ‘Was she in her early twenties, dark hair, rather pretty and spoke with an English accent?’

      ‘That’s her. I didn’t want to leave her there a woman like that is not safe. Who is she? Do you know her?’

      ‘Well I know that her name is Katherine Marchant she was a governess in England. Apparently she came out here against her parent’s wishes to marry someone named John I can’t recall his surname. But anyway remember that big flood we had after the winter thaw well this John was one of the three men that were drowned and by the time that word got back to England she was on her way here. As you can imagine when she arrived here she was just devastated, poor thing, she stayed with the doctor and his wife for a while in fact I thought she was still there. Maybe I should have a word with the Sergeant.’

      ‘Yes, I agree that would be good idea. Well James I have enjoyed our chat but it’s time that I collected my order and get back to the dogs before they coming looking for me. Then it’s a quick beer and I will be on my way.’

      ‘Are you sure you won’t come for a meal? Jean will be disappointed not to see you.’

      ‘I really must be on my way this time but give Jean my love and I will look forward to seeing you both in the spring.’

      Feeling much more respectable due to his haircut he retraced his steps to the general store and collected his supplies. He put them on the barrow to take back to the cart that he had left in the care of the dogs. When he arrived he stopped dead in his tracks as there sitting on the back of his cart with his dogs was a very small Chinaman. The small man had a dog on each side of him in fact Bing was letting him look at his paw.

      ‘What’s going on here?’

      ‘Your dog, he had a thorn in his paw. I take out and put on velly good ointment.’

      ‘Thank you.’ He waited for the Chinaman to move but it became apparent that he had no intention of moving in fact he noticed that there was a black bag and a wooden box also on the cart. ‘I will have to ask you to leave as I want to load up now.’

      ‘Me come with you now, me velly good cook.’

      ‘Look I don’t need a cook there is only me.’

      ‘Me velly good housekeeper.’

      ‘I don’t need a housekeeper either.’

      ‘Me velly good gardener.’

      ‘I don’t have a garden.’

      ‘Me velly good animal doctor.’

      ‘I have a stockman that takes care of the animals.’

      ‘Me velly good…’

      ‘I am getting velly, I mean very tired of this. I don’t need a cook, or a housekeeper or a gardener or a doctor of any kind. I appreciate what you did for my dog but please get off my cart so I can load my supplies.’

      Still the Chinaman sat absolutely still without muttering a word.

      ‘Well there is only one thing for it I will have to move you myself.’ He was not a violent man but at this point he was very angry. He was about to step forward and grab this small man when something about his manner cautioned him. Just the way he sat perfectly still with an intent gaze made him feel uneasy. At the back of his mind he could vaguely remember reading somewhere about these people that they were well able to hold there own in a fight. Whatever it was he advanced no further and thought it might be more prudent to get the Sergeant. After all there was no point in relying on the dogs for any assistance. ‘Traitorous mongrels’ he muttered to himself. He hastily unloaded the supplies. Leaving them on the ground he strode back into town. He was about to ask the whereabouts of the Sergeant when he noticed him coming out of the barber shop. Even though feeling annoyed at the delay he was pleased that James had kept to his word to speak to the Sergeant regarding the woman he had met. Why he felt that way he couldn’t explain even to himself.

      ‘Sergeant Bracken would you come with me I have a small problem back at the wagon.’

      ‘Certainly Sir, what’s the nature of this problem?’

      ‘It’s a Chinaman; he refuses to get off my cart.’

      ‘Has he caused any damage?’

      ‘No that’s not the problem, I just want to load up and get on my way and he has the mistaken idea that he is coming with me.’

      ‘Is this man dressed in the traditional Chinese garb and does he have a very long pigtail?’

      ‘That’s him.’

      ‘His name is Too Gum Shue.’

      ‘Too Gum who?’

      ‘Too Gum Shue. He came here from China to work in the gold fields but he hated it and has been pestering everyone one in the town to give him work. The Chinese here normally keep to themselves and are very little trouble in fact they are a very placid mysterious kind of people. One almost feels sorry for them the way they in an almost apologetic way follow the gold miners and work the forsaken tail races.’

      Helmut was in no mood to listen to the virtues of the Chinese race but the Sergeant seemed intent on talking and so he could do little else but listen as they walked side by side back to the cart. ‘They are an incomprehensible people, it’s their belief that a man must be buried in his native country to attain to immortality. I can tell you that this leads to all manner of difficulties. But I have to admit that they put up with an awful lot. I don’t know if you have ever seen any of their houses they are the simplest of dwellings. They are usually made out of sun dried sods but for the roofs they use anything from old rice bags to tussocks. Mind you they are usually warm and dry. I admit to admiring them as a race they work long and hard. Too Gum Shue has never caused any problems but he doesn’t seem to fit in somehow.’

      As


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