COMBINING I & II

Mar 28
2010

 

Pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up. Eccles.4:10 NIV.

 

The Lovable Rascal

 

Howard Burnett

 

 

His cry of pain seemed to clear his head. His thoughts started to come together. Yes! It was a tree above – had he camped out all night? No – it wasn’t a gum like those found at home under the starry skies of the Great Southern Wheat Belt where he could take his swag at night. No – they weren’t the trees on the family farm. He was crowded in with a massive growth of vegetation. He started to realise that he wasn’t in Western Australia at all but in some foreign land.

‘What’s happening here?’

 

Then he looked down at his legs. He was wearing a flying suit streaked with blood and earth. ‘That’s it,’ he thought, looking back at the tail of the plane – ‘I did fly too low to take a pic of that croc – well, at least that means the river can’t be far away… so here we go!’ He tried to sit up again but sank back with a groan. ‘All I can do now is put myself in the hands of my Maker. ‘

He closed his eyes. The twenty-four years he’d enjoyed so far paraded before him like a video on fast forward. Some experiences quite exciting – some boring and dull. Yes, he’d enjoyed life, on the whole, but sometimes at the expense of others – he had to admit.

“Sorry for that, God,” he said aloud.

 

His sister, Alice, for instance – he’d been a real pain in the neck to her – but they were so different. He couldn’t help annoying her. She’d tried so hard to keep him on the ‘straight and narrow path’. Now she’s married and become Mrs Godfrey Whitfield Dunn – a high flying doctor’s wife and a journalist – a wonderful pianist too – she certainly had the gift for it and worked hard.

That reminded him of more trouble – the time when on holiday in the Scilly Isles he’d wrecked Goff’s boat, the Golden Eagle. Alice had always predicted he would have a sticky end. He wondered what she’d put on his tombstone – ‘HE LIVED DANGEROUSLY’?

 

She was right, of course…she was always right…(fussy little thing that she was).

But will I even HAVE a tombstone at this rate?

 

Like a march past, his happiest moments paraded before him. The pain was less if he didn’t move and concentrated in a thankful way on the fabulous time they had on the Golden Eagle – with the crew – with Mary as well – Mary Southwell, so kind and thoughtful – he never showed her much appreciation.

He remembered how the crew of the Golden Eagle had crossed the world to meet up at David Burnett’s farm – their friendship was strong. Those were his happiest moments with the crew…his crew, of course…he owned them…at sea in the Golden Eagle…on the beach…trekking in the bush…helping on the farm.

His talkative sister, Alice, had recorded the events of that day in the bulky diary she kept by her bed. He’d sneaked a look more than once…in fact, though he didn’t like to admit it, he’d read it right through… and memorised a lot of it. It did not leave him in a good light…he had seen himself from the outside and didn’t always like what he saw. She recorded every action in detail. Howard had felt very exposed to the world. She went over Howard’s faults when Goff and Howard were having a meal together until they were sick of the sound of her voice. She recalled the smells…the sounds…what they ate…if she liked it or not (as if that mattered)…what they’d done wrong…their many quarrels, (all from her viewpoint, of course). He remembered she used to sing ‘count your blessings while you may.’ Over and over she sang. How did that song go on?…yes…‘for we have little time to stay’ I think… something like that.

‘You can say that again!’ He muttered aloud. “I’m done for!” The world spun and darkened then his thoughts revived again.

Mary knew a lot of Goff’s ambitions. She had a great love of people. Alice carried a secret passion for him…what girl wouldn’t? The strong, fair-haired boy balanced precariously, at the helm of his boat, chin held high, blue eyes set on the horizon. That determined chin…not all the might of the Atlantic Ocean could wreck his boat. His Aunt Dot, the guardian of the orphan and his boat, was driven to distraction. The boat was a point of argument between them – she was afraid of the sea if the truth were known. (Alice’s diary told a lot.)

‘Goff, my dear friend, your medical skill can save me…where are you?…hanged if I know…if only you knew I’m here…you must find me, Goff!

’ he groaned.

That fussy little person – his sister – but he wished he could see her now…just for one last moment. He’d say sorry too. She really cared for him, with all his faults. He felt he was, after all, a bit of a black sheep!

All that was left was to live through all his memories of the crew again…Alice and Mary had such a close bond. He felt Mary’s heartbreak as her mother fell sick again. That’s what you do before you die…to treasure every one of the crew for the last time. A warm and loving picture was growing in his mind.

And some exciting adventures remembered too!

He thought. He asked himself. He was afraid to move his body but his eyes moved over the jungle-type undergrowth. In a moment of panic, like cold ice trickling down his spine he saw it – the broken tail fin of an aircraft! opened his heavy eyes. He expected to be in his bedroom at the back of the farmstead but this didn’t look like his check curtains. He clenched his fingers around a cascade of green leaves! Yes – leaves they were – definitely leaves! They were damp. If this was his mattress, it felt very uncomfortable. It was hurting his back – ah yes! – that was it! He’d been helping his father, David, in the shearing shed. Very few people knew how back breaking that work was! He tried to alter his position. His hip didn’t turn but the effort produced a sharp electric pain which made him cry out. He closed his eyes. From the silence there came a cry, a shriek and a babble he couldn’t understand. It wasn’t Australian – in fact, it was bird noise. He sank back.