Ezekiel, page 24
Abigail and Bill paused their eating and waited.
‘We’re all ears, young fella.’
‘I will be going for a run today,’ announced Ezekiel.
Abigail jumped up and threw her arms around him and squeezed. ‘That is so great!’ She let him go.
‘Why’s that such a big deal?’
‘It means, Uncle Bill,’ bubbled Abigail excitedly. ‘That he’s getting better. Getting back to his usual self. This is so good, Ezekiel.’
‘Okay, I get it. This is a good sign then. How far ya going, son?’
‘I do not know.’
‘Which way ya headed then?’
‘I do not know. I will allow the Lord to guide me,’ said Ezekiel.
‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Bill.
‘Yes… or Jesus,’ added Ezekiel.
‘Do ya get all religious when ya get well?’
‘Maybe, but not in the traditional way.’
‘Well, I say, the Lord ’elps them that ’elps ’emselves.’
‘And you have been helping yourself, looking after yourself and working hard for a long time,’ said Ezekiel.
‘Indeed I have.’
‘Then the Lord’s been looking after you, Uncle.’
‘If you say so, son.’
* * *
An hour later Ezekiel set off for his run. It had been a while, so his pace was little more than a fast walk. Bill headed off to do some more prospecting. Abigail found an old cassette tape of Elvis Presley and played it quietly in the background as she continued reading her thick paperback - Exodus by Leon Uris. She had found it, covered in dust, in a disintegrating cardboard box along with other novels and a bunch of old LP records.
Bill’s prospecting site was a one-man operation. The two shafts were five metres deep and supported with heavy timber. At the top of each was an old hand-operated winch to pull up the bucket of newly dug earth and stone. A ladder down one side was the only way down and back out. Today he started on the south shaft and so far had hauled out twelve bucket loads. On the surface he looked at the newest pile of rubble, squatted and poked his way through, every now and then squirting the rocks with water and re-examining them, looking for colour and sparkle. For now, nothing of any note had caught his eye. He sat under the solitary paperbark tree and poured a coffee from his thermos.
Ezekiel had been out running, walking, and resting for two hours. He had turned off the main road and followed gravel tracks to where they ended then doubled back. So far he had seen a couple of dilapidated shacks but as yet, not another soul. On the return journey he stopped near a length of fence with only one strand of barbed wire. There were two signs warning about mine shafts in the area. The warnings were depicted mostly as pictures with stick men falling down open shafts, or others where a person was throwing rubble down a shaft where a miner was digging below. Ezekiel ducked under the wire and continued his run across the flat dry ground, dodging the odd small tree or bush as he went.
As he jogged slowly, he recognised the property he was on. There was a familiar small cluster of short eucalypts trying to survive on the baron ground. Nearby was a prospecting shaft he had seen before with Uncle Bill. He, Abigail, and Uncle had ventured down the ladder and along a horizontal tunnel where Bill was hopeful of finding opal. He showed them a few small rocks with rainbow colours that stood out when he spat on the dry stone. Ezekiel stopped near the shaft, leaned over, and listened. There were creaking noises but no digging sounds. He moved away and sat in the partial shade provided by some small trees.
Five minutes later he heard the shuffle of boots and Uncle Bill appeared in his regular attire, carrying an insulated cooler of water.
‘Hey, Uncle!’
‘Ezekiel, how are you?’
‘Fine, taking a break. Heading home soon. Any luck today?’
‘Nothing in the other shaft. Hoping for better luck here. Want a drink?’ He raised the cooler.
‘Thanks.’ Bill passed it over and Ezekiel gulped mouthfuls of cold water.
‘You should carry water with you.’
‘Maybe.’
‘No maybe about it, son. It gets bloody hot here at times. Anyway, no rest for the wicked,’ said Bill as he picked up the water and headed for the shaft. Ezekiel stood. He watched as Bill first pushed at a couple of old piles of rubble with his boot, then clipped the water bottle to his belt.
‘Crusty! Crusty!’ bellowed Ezekiel. Bill stood and turned.
‘Yeah, that’s my common name around here. You usually call me Uncle. What’s wrong, son?’
Ezekiel strode towards him. The sound of a massive crack echoed from the shaft. The ground below Bill’s feet started to move. He stood there, perplexed, trying to keep his balance. Ezekiel ran, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the side. They both fell to the ground. In front of them the sides of the shaft caved in, making the hole twice the size it was. A cloud of dust blew high into the air and then out and around the collapsing shaft. Bill and Ezekiel crawled further away coughing in the dust.
They both sat with their legs stretched out and their arms behind them for support and looked at the shaft. The dust thinned and eventually settled. At the same time they turned their dusty faces and looked at one another.
‘You just saved my life, son,’ panted Bill. ‘If you weren’t here, I’d be dead and bloody well buried. Holy Jesus!’
Ezekiel smiled and slowly nodded his head. ‘That is true. But it was not all my doing.’
‘Just you and me here, son. And I was not part of anything.’ Bill was still over-breathing and coughing.
Ezekiel pushed himself up and looked to the sky. He extended his arms and spoke loudly in a jubilant voice. ‘This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. Save now, I beseech thee, O Lord; O lord, I beseech thee, send now prosperity.’
* * *
That night at dinner Abigail cooked spaghetti bolognaise. She placed a large saucepan with a ladle on the sagging part of the table. Next to that she placed another with steaming spaghetti and a pair of tongs. She already knew the story of the cave in.
They all sat. Bill still in his dusty standard clothes and hat. Ezekiel had changed into clean but identical clothes to those he had on earlier – black shorts and white t-shirt. Abigail filled the three dinner bowls.
The three were silent and looked around at one another. No one started eating. Bill smiled, then Abigail, then Ezekiel.
‘I feel like we should be saying grace or something,’ Uncle Bill finally said.
‘That would be nice,’ said Ezekiel. ‘Go right ahead.’
‘Well… um… er… not quite sure really… I dunno…’
‘Give it a try, Uncle Bill,’ said Abigail.’
‘Please, Crusty.’ Ezekiel grinned.
Bill lowered his head, as did the other two, although they kept an eye on their uncle. ‘Thank you God… for… well, first things first I suppose. For… for saving the life of a crusty old prospector today. That was special. And thanks for sending these two lovely people to watch over me. And thanks for this wonderful tucker. It smells so bloody nice. Amen.’
‘Amen,’ said the other two in unison. They all tucked in.
After a couple of quick mouthfuls Bill wiped his mouth with his sleeve. ‘Bloody beautiful. Pass Crusty that crusty bread will ya, son.’
Ezekiel moved the bread plate closer. ‘A little thing on my mind about today at the shaft,’ said Bill.
‘Yes, Uncle.’
‘You said somethin’ about prosperity when ya spoke those words today.’
‘Yes, those words were from the Bible. The book of Psalms.’
‘Lovely yeah, but the prosperity thing…’
‘Prosperity can be measured in many ways.’
‘Oh… I see. Right then.’ Bill continued with his dinner. After another mouthful he paused again. ‘Ya know, yous guys. I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna have to start going to church.’
‘Better watch out, the roof might just cave in like your mine,’ said Ezekiel. He chuckled quietly to himself. Then they all laughed.
Chapter 52
Happy Families
Ezekiel and Abigail spent a further eight months at Lightning Ridge. Ezekiel’s running increased dramatically and he was loving it - six days a week spending two to five hours out running and occasionally stopping for a brief chat with some locals he had come to know. There were three houses that would regularly leave a plastic water bottle on or near their fence to help him through. Since he started running again he had lost twelve kilograms and was almost back to his pre-medication self.
The story of the mine shaft cave in had become an epic tale in the town. Every time Crusty told the story at the pub he added in a slightly new angle. He had been to church twice. Father O’Connell was surprised to see him. Fortunately, the roof never fell in.
With help from friends, Uncle Bill Pemberton had dug out the shaft and reinforced it with heavy timber. He found several good-looking opals amongst all the rubble and was a happy man.
* * *
The Kaufman’s were celebrating the return of Ezekiel and Abigail after twenty-one months away from their families. The day after their late return, an afternoon get-together was organised in the front yard of the Kaufman property. The Pemberton’s attended, as did Margaret Jackson from up the road. Emily invited three of her friends. Cathy Johnson had been invited but was unable to attend, and said she hoped to visit sometime over the coming week.
Ezra was in charge of the barbeque, and began the afternoon with barbequed chilli and garlic prawns, pineapple rings, and corn on the cob, rolled in butter, parmesan and parsley.
Joshua was now home full time. He was assisted by a community nurse who visited every morning for around two hours and she, with a hand from Anna, helped get him sorted for the day. Over the past two years the movement in his arms had improved. He could move all three fingers of both hands, was able to move his wrists and raise his arms to his chest.
Ezekiel sat next to him under the gazebo holding a piece of corn so Joshua could bite into it.
‘I hear that you might get a motorized chair soon. One you can operate with your own hands,’ said Ezekiel.
Joshua swallowed. ‘I hope so. May still be a few months away,’ he said softly.
Ezekiel looked around. Ezra was at the barbeque chatting to Ivan Pemberton, Abigail’s father. Anna was sitting with Abigail and her mother, Maureen, and Margaret Jackson. Emily and her friends, together with Abigail’s older brother and younger sister were at the back of the house listening to rap music. Some of them emerging from time to time to get food before disappearing again.
‘I have been having some inclinations to address outstanding matters,’ said Ezekiel.
‘I knew you would… as soon as you were able,’ whispered Joshua.
‘Some long term, non-contact and undetected surveillance would be a reasonable starting point.’
‘Does Abigail know?’
‘Yes, we share everything.’
‘That’s nice. She’s a wonderful person. The two of you have grown so much in the past two years,’ said Joshua. ‘With this matter ahead of you…you know you must be safe at all times, right? Can you pass a prawn please?’
‘I feel I have returned with renewed strength and a heightened sense of purpose.’ Ezekiel popped a prawn in his father’s mouth.
Joshua closed his eyes and nodded as he chewed. ‘Hmm… so tasty. Another please.’
His son obliged. ‘You know they stopped my disability pension?’ His father nodded. ‘I failed to attend the review,’ continued Ezekiel. ‘This is fine though. I am not disabled now, since the drugs and residual side effects have stopped.’
‘Is the big man up there…’ Joshua looked upward. ‘… back in your life?’
‘Most definitely.’
‘I’m glad for you. I know now this is your life and this is the path you’ve chosen, or the path that was chosen for you. It just took a near death experience for me to accept that.’
‘I am going to give you a quick hug.’ He leaned over his dad and squeezed around his back and shoulders with his cheek against Joshua’s.
Ezra and Ivan arrived with plates of cooked food that they set down on the table.
‘Are those hugs free?’ said Ezra.
‘Yes, but they are also quick,’ replied Ezekiel. He hugged his Grandad. Ivan went to shake his hand, but he embraced him as well, then he took a step back and took a few quick breaths.
‘You’re getting better with personal contact now,’ said Ezra.
‘It still has challenges for me. Abigail has helped a lot.’
‘Glad you’re both home,’ said Ivan. He smiled displaying a wide mouth and plenty of teeth. Ivan was a tall thin man with a semi-circle of short grey hair around a bald centre. ‘I expect Abigail will be looking for work or further studies in the new year. Two gap years. Wow, what a luxury,’ chuckled Ivan as he looked around at the other men.
Ezekiel nodded and looked at the ground. This was something he hadn’t much thought about – Abigail away working or studying. He knew she was keen on architecture and design. And, no doubt, the family would be expecting her to be living back with them. Best clear that matter up.
‘We will be taking a look at the courses for 2012 very soon,’ said Ezekiel. ‘Abigail will be residing here with me. Perhaps we both could come over and see you and Maureen in the coming days to have a chat about this. How does Wednesday sound?’
‘Hmm… ah… yes… that is good,’ stammered Ivan. ‘But I was of the understanding…’
‘Very good, Ivan,’ interrupted Ezekiel. ‘Your daughter is truly the kindest and most intelligent person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. No doubt she got those wonderful genes from you and Maureen.’
For now, the tall man was disarmed. ‘Thank you,’ he politely replied. He picked up a plate. ‘More prawns anyone?’
Chapter 53
The Business – Part 1
Tallon Chapman was pleased with himself. His bank balance was going up, as was his private stash which he kept safely in a private vault deposit box. He would only deposit set amounts in his bank account at any one time. These amounts were reflective of the work he was, or could have, been doing at the Find-Us Keep-Us Motel. Doing anything different would attract suspicion if anyone, namely the cops, started any sort of investigation.
His network distribution responsibilities had grown as Frank felt more confident in his work. He had even been part of a retrieval team that visited the Mooloolaba Yacht Club to collect a large shipment of crack cocaine. The shipment was concealed in a hidden compartment in the hull, unbeknown to the crew that sailed into the marina.
Tallon had been given the job of delivering the takings from many local vendors to Frank at his home – a procedure that happened more or less once a fortnight. The drop off was a deliberately convoluted procedure involving two or three vehicles, maybe a taxi and on odd occasions a motorcycle. Even the drop-off days and times were random and dependent on a text from Frank to Tallon. After the delivery, and when Frank Mortimer was alone, he would go to his basement, check the dockets, then feed the notes through a counting machine. From the local South East Queensland distributors he would expect around one hundred and forty thousand dollars per fortnight. From the major distributors in different areas of Queensland and northern New South Wales, considerably more, but this was always dependent on supply. There were overheads to take care of like security and housekeeping staff and a handful of local distributors like Tallon Chapman.
These days Tallon had little time for his old friends, and despite getting calls and texts., he had not seen any of them for months. Peppers was still a favourite venue, both for sex and for acquiring new contacts and more potential product outlets.
At the motel, below the almost permanent NO VACANCY sign, was a slow flashing smaller sign saying FREE WIFI. The flashing was an indication to major distributors that supply was available for pick up, and it was safe to enter the premises. Frank Mortimer was never there in person at these times but was still able to observe proceedings through the network of camera surveillance devices around the premises.
Frank Mortimer’s Sydney business was expanding with the help of his son, Quentin, and he was contemplating a relocation there in the near future. He hoped to leave the local operation, and his own home, in the capable hands of Tallon Chapman.
It was on a Thursday evening of mid-June in 2012 that Frank detected an error. The takings from Tony’s DeliMart were down by twelve thousand dollars. He said nothing to anyone and waited for the next installment on the twenty-ninth. Once again it was short, this time fifteen thousand. It was time to talk to Tony.
Mid-morning the next day Frank strode into Tony’s DeliMart with Ethan Ricard, his personal assistant, bodyguard, and head-kicker. Ethan wore a t-shirt that looked two sizes too small and emphasised his chest and arm muscles. He was tall with a square head, crew cut and bent nose.
Frank wore one of his favourite black Italian suits and a rusty coloured tie that matched the colour of his curly hair. The two men strode around the counter and headed out the back of the deli. The young girl at the counter was a little dumbstruck, and not sure whether to leave the customer she was dealing with, ask the men what they wanted, or take an unscheduled break for her own safety.
Tony was out the back unpacking boxes in the large walk-in fridge. The door was open. He was a round man with short, black, greasy hair, a receding hairline and black moustache. As he turned, he was stunned to see Frank.
‘Frankie!’ he stepped out of the fridge. ‘How are you? Haven’t seen you for what… years… at least two.’ Tony moved to Frank as if he was about to hug the drug boss, but Frank held up two hands.
‘Italian! Finest quality,’ said Frank, looking down at his clothes. ‘Keep your greasy paws to yourself.’
‘Yeah. Okay. Fine.’ Tony rubbed his palms on his apron. ‘What’s up?’
‘There seems to be an accounting error.’ Frank smiled. Ethan took a step around Frank towards Tony. Frank extended his arm to stop him.
