Run Beautiful Run, page 27
‘Welcome to Alice Springs. This is Bill and Ben’s place. They’re retired air force veterans.’ Joe helped Maddison unclip her seatbelt.
‘Is this normal to show up on someone’s doorstep and park your helicopter in their yard like parking a car in a friend’s driveway?’
‘Kind of.’ Joe chuckled, passing her the red bag. ‘These guys will look after the chopper until we return.’
We? Return? ‘What is this place?’ It looked like a junkyard for vintage cars.
‘This was an old air force base. Bill and Ben own it now. And …’ He led her around the corner, opened a smaller door into the enormous hangar and pointed. ‘These guys have planes.’
Maddison’s jaw dropped at the assorted aeroplanes that filled the enclosed hangar. It was as if she had walked into a museum full of military aircraft.
‘BILL? BEN? You around?’ Joe let rip an ear-splitting whistle.
‘Come in, but only if you’re good looking.’ An elderly male voice carried from the far side of the massive hangar.
‘That’s your cue, honey.’ Joe gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Come on, they’re going to love you.’ He led Maddison towards the office. ‘G’day you lot.’
Elderly identical twins rose from their matching recliners to heartily shake Joe’s hand with the warm welcoming of long-time friends.
‘Maddison, this is Bill and that is Ben.’
‘Hi.’ How could Joe tell the difference? Both men had the same white hair that matched their eyebrows, and sunburnt faces. Wearing shorts, thongs, and singlets. They had wide smiles, rosy cheeks, and light blue eyes that shone brighter than Christmas tree lights. And they seemed incredibly jolly.
‘Welcome, Maddison.’ Bill took a bow to gently kiss the back of her hand.
Maddison giggled in surprise. ‘No one’s done that before.’
‘It’s new for me too. I’ve always wanted to do it, though.’
‘My turn. Don’t hog the limelight.’ Ben jostled with Bill like boys in the schoolyard to shake Maddison’s hand. ‘To what do we owe the absolute pleasure of your visit, young lady?’
‘We’re hoping you’ll fly us to Charleville,’ said Joe.
‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ said Ben, winking at Maddison. ‘My dear, sweet, young lady, are you requiring transportation to Charleville?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘If you care to leave that troublemaker here, we’ll gladly escort you.’ Bill pointed to Joe.
‘Oi, wait up, you two.’ Joe stepped in close beside Maddison. ‘I’m going with the lady, and we need a lift as soon as you can muster it.’
‘I’ll pay you in cash.’ Maddison gripped her ruined red bag.
‘And if you treat the lady right, she might even give you a tip for your troubles.’
‘What sort of tip?’ Bill asked, his brother Ben nodding beside him. ‘Just cover our expenses and some beer money and we’ll be square.’
‘And a kiss on the cheek from a beautiful woman,’ said Ben with his white eyebrows bobbing up and down.
‘Oh, pick me.’ Bill mirrored his brother’s smile.
‘You two, behave.’ Joe protectively wrapped his arm around Maddison.
‘We are,’ the brothers sung in chorus.
‘So, um, how soon can we leave?’ After all, Maddison was on a tight deadline.
‘Why don’t you wait in our five-star airport lounge facilities, kept specifically for our VIP guests, while we go get ready. Feel free to use the amenities we have available.’ Bill pointed to the old couch and mismatched wooden chairs spread around a square piece of carpet. Their coffee table was made from wooden crates, piled with newspapers. They even had a gramophone next to a wide-screen TV.
‘Let’s take the Little Ripper,’ Ben said to his brother. ‘She’s ready to roll, and we’ve been looking for the perfect excuse to air out her dust.’
‘Oh, good choice. The Little Ripper will be perfect for such an expedition.’
‘How little a plane are we talking about?’ Maddison swallowed down the fear clawing up her chest.
‘You’re not scared of flying, are you? You just arrived in a helicopter,’ barked out Bill.
‘Maddison was in that plane crash out near home the other week,’ explained Joe.
The twins cringed and faced Maddison, empathy worn in their eyes.
‘We won’t scare you none, Miss, and that’s a promise.’ Ben tenderly patted her shoulder. ‘We won’t be going in anything that small.’
‘What are we flying in?’ Maddison wiped her clammy palms down Greg’s borrowed jeans.
‘Our Little Ripper.’ The twins pointed to a massive gunmetal grey cargo plane parked beside the hangar doors.
‘Isn’t she a beauty?’ The brothers stared at the plane like fathers fawning over a newborn baby in the hospital. ‘We could fly all the way to Singapore in the Little Ripper.’
‘What about Sydney?’ What about the nearest train station? No wait, cameras.
The twins winced, mumbling to themselves.
She looked to Joe. ‘Why can’t they go to Sydney?’ Sydney was the last place she wanted to go, but she had no choice.
‘Bill and Ben aren’t allowed to enter major air space. They can only fly regionally.’
‘Why?’ Should she dare get into a vintage plane with these men? Did her ticket come with a parachute, or a bottle of scotch and a handful of sleeping pills? What was Joe thinking?
‘Bill and Ben were part of the Royal Australian Air Force Roulettes. And, they upset the main tower at Sydney airport with their fly-bys—’
‘We like to call it aeronautical acrobatics,’ interjected Bill, with Ben lifting his chin in a nod.
‘They scared the daylights out of the radio controllers while breaking a stack of airstrip rules.’
‘You’re banned from Sydney?’ Maddison gawked at the twins who looked like humble grandfathers that would save puppies from pet shops.
Bill shrugged, Ben grinned, as Joe said, ‘And Adelaide, Brisbane, Melbourne, and Perth.’
‘We’re good for Hobart and the mob in Darwin,’ said Ben with Bill nodding.
‘You won’t do any tricks while I’m in the plane, will you?’
Fifty-eight
CHARLEVILLE, QUEENSLAND
As stars sparkled in the night sky, the humming drone of the ex-military cargo plane left Northern Territory airspace and flew into Queensland with the twins, Ben and Bill, manning the cockpit.
Inside, long bench seats ran along the plane’s inner walls, where Joe stretched out with his head resting on Maddison’s lap.
Gently stroking Joe’s dark brown hair, Maddison asked, ‘How long have you had your pilot’s licence?’
‘Over fifteen years. Dad has one too. Mum can fly, but she’s gets too nervous to do the test.’ Joe sighed. ‘We used to have our own plane at the station, but we sold it with a heap of other equipment to pay the bills. We kept the helicopter purely for the musters, and with the tourists coming in and out all the time, we don’t need a plane. When we’re done playing tour guides, we’ll get another one. We’ll need it then, and Greg can get his pilot’s licence.’ Joe sat up, putting his arm around her slender shoulders. ‘Out here, especially when the wet season floods our roads, a plane is like a car. Most stations have airstrips on them, and the smaller air charter companies are like taxis for outback communities.’
‘Do you miss it? The flying?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘You like living on the station?’
‘After seeing what the rest of the country offers, I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. Elleron Downs is home.’ He gently tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘What about you? Where is home for you?’
Bill from the cockpit interrupted them. ‘We’re coming in to land. Please strap on your seatbelts, put your tray tables in the upright position and have all chairs facing forward.’
‘And we thank you for flying with Bill and Ben’s Airways,’ the brothers chorused as if they were in some cheesy television commercial.
They landed softly at the small Charleville regional airport at midnight. The night air was crisp and free from humidity as Maddison climbed out of the cargo plane.
Bill and Ben slung canvas bags over their shoulders, in matching pilot’s uniforms, their shiny shoes clapped along the tarmac. They left the military cargo plane in the dark and headed for the fence line where a single streetlight shone at the main gates, which led to a dark bitumen road.
‘Where do we go from here?’ Maddison asked Joe as they waited by the gates, without a phone signal or a car in sight. They could have been anywhere.
‘We’ve got a car coming, milady.’ Bill grinned, giving her a sweeping bow. ‘We radioed a mate earlier.’
‘Gawd, I hope she cleaned her car out.’ Ben said to his twin.
‘She’ll be right, ‘I’ll take the shirt off me back for the lady to sit on, if need be.’
‘And scare her blind with your figure.’
They paused at the sound of music.
‘Sounds like Stella’s coming.’ Bill and Ben stared down the dark road where rock music bellowed in the distance.
A set of flickering headlights approached, belonging to an orange kombi van, spluttering and coughing, with white smoke spewing out the back. It leaned sideways as it steered around the corner with the tyres screeching and the stereo music blaring. Its horn tooted in short bursts.
‘G’day, fellas,’ yelled the driver over the music. She was wearing a straw hat in the middle of the night, madly waving at them through the driver’s window.
‘Stella.’ The twins jovially waved at the woman doing circles around them in her kombi.
The vintage van screeched to a halt. Its engine putted and then sighed in relief before it chugged to a stop.
Bursting free from the front seat, her nose ring glinting in the streetlight, Stella flicked her long hair plaits over her shoulder. She hoisted up her multi-coloured, many-layered skirt and clomped over to them, showing off her leather boots and odd pair of long socks. Stella was wearing every colour of the rainbow with a warm smile and deep tan, looking like she’d time-travelled from a sixties hippy garden.
Stella launched herself with wide arms to hug both Bill and Ben, tucking one man under each arm. ‘How ya doin’, fellas? It’s been a long time between beers, eh?’
‘We can make up for it tonight,’ replied Bill. ‘Have you finished work?’
‘Yep, all done and dusted. I’ve got no more buns in the oven, so it’s brekkie beers for me. Who’ve we got ‘ere, eh?’
‘Joe and Maddison, this is our mate, Stella,’ said Bill. ‘She’s the local baker.’
‘Whoo-wee, well aren’t you a handsome bugger.’ Stella thumbed back the brim of her straw hat. ‘He’s a bit young for me, eh? Mind you, I heard they call them women cougars who have younger blokes.’ She hooked her arm through Joe’s. ‘I’ve always wanted a toy boy.’
‘What?’ Joe cringed.
Maddison was unsure whether to intervene.
Then Stella, Bill and Ben collapsed into fits of laughter.
‘Did ya get a load of his face?’ Bill asked Ben, pointing at Joe, as happy tears fell down their rosy cheeks.
Joe stepped away from the hippy wearing a straw hat at midnight. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s all right, mate.’ Stella playfully punched Joe on the arm. ‘That pair of trouble radioed earlier and told me to stir you up a bit. I’m happily married with eight kids and four grandbabies, with more on the way.’
‘Yeah, right,’ murmured Joe, clinging close to the giggling Maddison. It was good to laugh again.
‘Righto, you mob, your chariot awaits.’ Stella heartily reefed open the kombi’s side door and started shifting the junk around inside. ‘Don’t mind the mess, eh. I’ve bin cartin’ the billylids and their mates’ round for soccer practice. It’s stinkin’ cute, eh. They’re only five and can’t kick a bloody ball to save themselves. But we’ve all gotta start somewhere, right?’ She stepped out of the van and faced her passengers. ‘Righto, in you get, daylight’s comin’.’
Stella climbed into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. Rock music exploded into the night air.
In the passenger seat Maddison playfully flicked at the sun-faded, fluffy dice that hung from the rear-view mirror.
‘You’ve gotta put some muscle into closing that door,’ shouted Stella from the driver’s seat.
The side door screeched like rust on rust as Joe slammed it shut, rocking the entire van.
‘Where are you mob off to then, eh?’ Stella asked.
‘Franklin’s Transit.’ Joe squeezed into the backseat, with his knees to his chest, resting his boots on a bag of soccer balls. Bill and Ben were seated in the same fashion.
‘Righto, hold tight.’ As the stereo blasted AC/DC, Stella gunned the engine until it backfired, it then gave an almighty roar like an ancient lawn mower. The whole van vibrated, until it jerked in a series of small kangaroo hops, as black smoke spewed out of the rear exhaust pipe, until it finally got enough momentum to roll down the deserted road.
‘I’ve lost the switch to the volume,’ shouted Stella as she steered. ‘I can turn it off, but the wiring’s all mucked up in the electrics. No stereo, no driving lights.’
Ten minutes later the orange kombi van screeched to a halt, forcing everyone to jerk forward in their seats.
‘Righto, Franklin Transit.’ Stella pointed to the brightly lit fenced yard. In the centre stood a massive shed almost as big as an aircraft hangar, with forklifts whizzing in and out of its wide doorway.
‘Thank you, Stella. It was awesome to meet you.’ Maddison’s cheeks ached from laughter.
‘Come ‘ere, you look like you need one.’ Stella pulled Maddison into a hug, giving hearty pats on Maddison’s back as if to clear her airways. ‘Good luck to you and your fella, eh.’
With a plume of smoke and an echoing backfire, the orange kombi van shuddered and shook. Its rainbow-wearing driver, and the twin silver-haired pilots, waved madly out the windows as the van lurched forward with AC/DC’s Highway to Hell blasting from the stereo.
‘What the hell was that?’ Joe stood beside Maddison on the sidewalk as they both waved off the van, its tyres screeching as its body leaned dangerously sideways to take the corner. With white smoke spewing from its exhaust, it soon disappeared.
‘That is the most colourful woman I’ve ever met.’ Stella was amazing. Never in a million years would Maddison have met someone like Stella in her old world. Stella, who’d helped a friend without any ulterior motive. Just like the twins. Complete strangers who took her at face value and not for who or what she had. ‘I like the twins. And Stella.’
‘I didn’t meet her when I worked here. She’s not the type of woman you’d forget in a hurry.’
‘You worked where?’
‘There.’ Joe pointed to the shed.
Franklin Transit was emblazoned across the large sign that hung on the front fence and on the shed ‘Is it a bus station or a train station?’ It was too dark to see anything else in the area.
‘You’re close with a train.’ Joe led Maddison to the shed where a massive semi-trailer waited inside. Its bull bar was taller than Maddison, with long trailers snaking behind it longer than a city block.
‘That’s the biggest truck I’ve ever seen.’
‘It’s a road train.’
‘Huh. And I thought your cattle truck was big, but that … Did you drive one of these?’ Her neck craned up at the sheer size of the mechanical beast with shiny exhaust stacks and horns adorning its roof.
‘I got paid to cruise around Australia driving one of these.’
The guy drove bikes, boats, utes, tractors, mine-sized dump trucks, road trains, and flew planes and helicopters. What couldn’t he do? ‘You’re amazing, you know that?’
He wiped at his nose to hide his smile. ‘Come on, let’s find out when the next truck is leaving.’
‘Will this get us to Sydney?’ Not that she was excited to go there.
‘Close enough. We’ll find plenty of rides at the truck stops. When we hit the regional centre, we can hire a car. Are you keen to take on this next adventure?’ He held his hand out to her.
She’d do anything to avoid Sydney, known to some as the Emerald City, the world she’d fled from almost a year ago. But now she had no choice. It was time for this runaway to go home.
Fifty-nine
SYDNEY, NEW SOUTH WALES
‘I forgot how huge this place is. I now understand why you chose this mini and not the van.’ Joe skillfully scooted their hire car through the congested harbour-city traffic. It was an enormous difference from the towering prime mover to sitting bare millimetres off the road.
‘You’re in my backyard now, cowboy.’ Maddison gave directions, while starting to feel claustrophobic from the rows of houses, shops, traffic lights, and people swarming a capital city. It had been a long trek from Elleron Downs, and she was already missing the quiet open spaces of the outback.
‘Were you born in Sydney?’ Joe pulled up at another set of traffic lights. All they did was stop start, stop start.
‘In Adelaide.’
‘But you live in Melbourne?’
‘I’ve been in Melbourne for about a year. My mother moved us to Sydney when I was a toddler, when she got a job with a teen magazine.’
‘You never mention your father.’
‘Nothing to tell. I don’t know who my father is.’ Inhaling deeply, she repeated a well-told tale, while staring at the grey skies that matched the towers of concrete and windows that hid the sun. ‘I’m the result of a one-night stand at a university party my mother attended. His name was Tim. He was only passing through and was never seen again. On bad days my mother called him the sperm donor.’
