Tommo & Hawk (41 page)

It were always said he were a queer one, and when Crawlin Nestbyte went overboard, they all reckoned it were 'cause of Billy's prophecy. Now he's read me clear as a marked deck. He's seen right into my head, and spotted me cravin' for the black bottle. I'm tempted to answer yes, but I knows I'm gunna need three bottles, maybe more, and I ain't gunna steal from Billy. Billy follows the Aborigine way - if he's your mate, what's his is yours. He were most kind to me and Hawk when we come on board the Nankin Maiden. Some thought he were ten bob in the quid, but it ain't true. Billy's a proper gentleman and I ain't gunna sink to stealing from him, not now, not never. I ain't that kind o' drunk yet.

'Cards, Billy. I want t' play poker. Can you stake me?'

'Sure, sure.' Billy fumbles in his jacket and brings out his purse once again. He hands it to me. 'You take, Tommo.'

I take two gold sovs and an American silver dollar what be worth about five shillings. Then I put Billy's purse back in his whaleman's jacket. It's enough to get me into the big game and even to lose a couple of hands if I needs to set up some greedy bastard who thinks to take me.

I ask Billy what he's been up to, and he tells me his story, what be simple enough. After Hawk and me were took ashore under arrest, the Nankin Maiden sailed down from Kororareka to Auckland, where Captain O'Hara's stump were properly stitched up and took care of by the surgeon in the troopers' barracks. Then she sailed directly back to Nantucket, her hold being near filled. Billy gets paid his share when the boat reaches home port, and signs aboard the Cloudy Bay, what is bound for southern whaling grounds. But shortly after reaching Antarctic waters, the boat is damaged by an ice crush and must limp into Auckland harbour for repairs.

'This shit place, Tommo! No plurry good Aucklan', eh?' Billy shakes his head. 'Ya wan' a brandy, rum?'

I squeeze my eyes tight, but manage to shake my head. 'Billy, you're not to tell who I am.' I put a finger to my lips. 'I ain't supposed to be here, me name's not Tommo, ya hear?'

'Wha's ya name then, eh?' Billy asks, surprised.

I sigh. He sounds like he's three sheets to the wind but then again he always talks like this so I can't tell how drunk he truly is. I only hope he gets a handle on what I'm trying to tell him.

'Johnny Abacus. You calls me Johnny, right?'

Billy nods. 'Johnny, plurry good.' Then to me surprise he repeats perfect, 'Johnny Abacus.'

I laughs to meself. Billy, with his plurry this and plurry that, is easily mistook for being a bit slow, but he ain't nothin' of the sort. Billy's as good a man as you can have at your side and plenty smart with it.

It's nigh on ten o'clock when we is taken to an iron shed at the back o' the grog shop. Inside there's a table covered in green baize with three hurricane lamps hanging above to light it. Six chairs are set 'round the table and against the wall are two wooden benches. The room is warmed by a small pot-belly stove.

I takes a seat and when the owner asks what me poison is, I order milk.

'Milk!' he snorts. 'We don't sell no milk here, lad.'

The three other players what has come to sit at the table looks at each other, trying to hide their mirth.

'But I always drinks milk when we plays cards at 'ome,' I says, looking most disappointed. I pause. 'What be wrong with milk?'

The landlord sighs and looks to the ceiling 'Nothing wrong with it, lad, but we ain't got none here.'

'Oh,' I says all innocent. 'Then I'll drink water. Does ya 'ave water, sir?'

He turns away in disgust. The other players all order Jamaican rum which, in a joint like this, is likely to have more than a drop o' water added, with a dash of tobacco juice to give it a kick.

Billy sits on the bench behind me with a mug o' brandy and seems happy enough. I has me hat pulled down low, and with me long hair and beard, there ain't too much of me gob to be seen. It's clear enough to the other players that they has a bumpkin on their hands. When they sees I got two sovs and a silver dollar in my possession, they'll know me for the best possible patsy-mark.

I wait long enough for them to give up staring, then starts up like Timmy Dankmarsh, the country clod what gave me a ride into town. 'Me pappy uh… er… he says, strong drink be the ruination o'…' I appear to be tryin' to remember what me pappy said, then gives up and shakes me head. I begins to giggle. 'He says it be the ruination o' something or other!' Then I take my hand out of my pocket and slaps down the two sovs and the silver dollar upon the green cloth. 'What's we gunna play then?' I ask, smiling cloddish-like again, not forgetting to leave me bottom lip hung open.

Suddenly I hears the scraping of the two remaining chairs. I look up from under the rim of me hat, and nearly falls off me chair. I feel the blood leave me face. If it ain't Maple and Syrup, them two bastards from the gaol-house at Kororareka what done Hawk and me in! It's the card-game all over again, and there's no way now I can make my escape. As if meeting Billy Lanney weren't coincidence enough for one night. Yours truly, I decide, is sailing very close to the wind!

The owner comes around and claims five shillings from all for the rent o' the premises and provision of the lookout. Gambling ain't allowed in Auckland. Billy ups from his bench, and pays it for me. 'Nigger yer banker then?' Syrup asks and the rest o' the table bursts into laughter.

'Aye!' I says slowly and grins. 'He can count better than me ... and he don't use his fingers none.' I only wish my head didn't hurt so much - I'll need all me wits tonight.

The owner brings a new set o' cards and hands them all around for examination. I hold 'em up to the light. 'Why, they's all wrapped up!' I says. 'New, is they?' I lean back and hand the cards to Billy, 'Lookee there, Billy! Them's new cards an' all!'

Billy takes the cards and turns them around, shaking his head in wonderment. He hands them back to me. 'Plurry good, Johnny, eh?' he says.

Well, the game begins and I lose the first two hands by being purposeful stupid, but not so stupid that I look completely out o' me depth. Then I wins and acts most excited. The next hand I lose again - all this with my tongue at the corner of my mouth.

Maple and Syrup are the best o' the five players at the table and I lets them win from the others as well as me. But by the skin of me teeth I stays in the game. Finally it's just the two of them with the money piled up in front of where they sit and me.

It's the same as Kororareka all over again. They ain't learned nothing and I sets them up one at a time and cleans them both out with eight pounds snug in me pocket before midnight. After I've cleaned out Syrup, he asks if I'll take his marker. I look at him sorrowful-like, 'Mr Syrup, me pappy always said, neither a borrower nor lender be... for loan often loses both itself and a friend… and I wouldn't want to lose your friendship, Mr Syrup. Hee-hee.' Syrup gives a sickly sort o' smile and then there were only Maple left, holding a couple of sovs in change. I think he'll fold, call it quits, but he stays in the game and in two more hands, I've took the lot.

I reach down and unstrap my blanket roll so I can get to my axe quickly if needs be. My head hurts terrible but I've done the whole thing without any relocation of the cards. I ain't lost none o' me skill over the years! I pick up me roll like it's still strapped and put it under me arm.

'Thankee, gentlemen, much obliged.' I touch the brim of my hat to Maple and Syrup and bows, then does the same to the other three players what's now sitting on the benches. 'Come, Billy,' I says. 'Time fer some tucker.'

Suddenly Maple is standing in front o' me and Syrup to one side. 'I'm sure I seen you somewhere,' Maple says, pushing his finger into me chest.

'From Wanganui is you, then?' I says slow, but smiling like it's a nice surprise. 'Though I don't recall havin' seen ya.'

I can see he's trying to remember where he's met me before, but his head is rum-fogged and it ain't coming to him.

'I think you's cheated!' Maple accuses me now, and jabs my chest again, this time hard.

'Huh?' I says, open-mouthed. 'No, no! I'm a good Christian boy. Me pappy says…'

But I don't get no further, for Syrup has fastened on to me. 'Outside, you!' he says as Maple grabs my head under his arm.

'What's you mean?' I yells. 'I ain't done nothin' wrong!'

But both of them is dragging me away, back up to the pub and then through the front room of the Scrimshaw. 'Cheat! Cheatin' at the flats!' Maple yells to all what will listen. 'Him and the fuckin' black!'

When he hears this, Syrup cries out, 'Jesus Christ, now I remembers! Kororareka! The gaol, bloody Nottingham, you and the big nigger!'

'Billy, scarper!' I yell as Maple and Syrup throw me to the ground in the alley. There are whalemen tumbling out the door as fast as their feet'll carry them to witness the beating I'm gunna get. This is the moment I'm waiting for. I've hung onto me blanket roll for dear life. I rise from me knees as they comes close, and Syrup takes a kick at me. I duck and his boot goes flying over my head so that he slips in the mud and falls on his arse.

'Why, you bastard!' he says, angry now. He gets quickly to his feet while the whalemen laugh at him.

'He's a crook, an escaped prisoner!' Maple shouts and takes a swing at me. This time, the blow grazes the side o' me poor old head and ear, knocking me down flat again. I can see Billy held tight by the landlord and one other bloke. I get back on me haunches and tear at the blanket. In a flash I has the fighting axe in my hands. Syrup swings a blow at me but I catch his wrist with the handle of my axe. Then I bring the flat head around and pat him polite-like to the chin and mouth. Suddenly there is teeth and blood flying everywhere. He drops to his knees, both hands held to his face. I slams him again to the side of the head with the flat of me axe, and he pitches face-first in the mud. He'll see dicky-birds for some time after, I reckons.

Maple roars and comes at me with his bowie knife, the eight inches of blade aimed straight at me gut. I swing the axe blade 'round and knock the knife from his hand, taking the top of his fingers with it. Then I reverse with the butt and strikes him in the face. I feel his nose and cheekbone crunch. It's all over in seconds and the crowd has drawn back, pushing against each other so that Maple and Syrup are alone in the mud at me feet, out cold, like a couple o' stunned mullets.

'That's for me brother, ya rotten scum!' I pant. With the handle of me axe I point to Billy Lanney. 'Let him go, he be a whaleman! Come on, Billy, let's get the hell out o' this shit hole!'

Several whalemen turns on the landlord and the other cove what's got Billy, and they lets him loose quick.

'He's a whaleman! Plurry good!' Billy shouts. 'Me, too!'

'And any of you what follows us,' I point with my axe handle to Maple and Syrup, 'you'll get the same as them, ya hear?' I pick up my blanket and sandals and begin to walk away. Then I stop and turn back to the crowd. 'And I didn't cheat! I wouldn't insult meself cheating with shore scum like them two Limey bastards!'

There's a cheer from the whalemen in the crowd at this. Then someone calls out, 'It be Tommo from the Nankin Maiden!' and there's a second cheer, this one louder. 'Go, Tommo, we'll see you clear!' another whaleman shouts.

'Plurry hell!' says Billy, coming to me side. Then under his breath, 'Tommo, we goes now, eh? Shit! Omegawd!' and he breaks into a trot.

'Don't run, Billy!' I grab his arm. 'Walk like you're not scared, then when we gets out o' sight, we'll run like the devil!'

We get to the end o' the alley and then take off, running as hard as we can away from the wharf. Soon we get to the outskirts of this miserable town. I stop, my axe and blanket and sandals feelin' bloody heavy by now, and farmer Moo-cow's shoes near killing me feet. Billy, who be fifteen years or more older than me, is well ahead. 'Stop, Billy!' I shouts. 'We ain't gettin' nowhere!'

Billy walks back to where I'm bent over, panting and dizzy, with my blanket and axe lying at my feet. There is something wrong. My head is now so painful from the running I am hard put not to cry out. The wound is bleeding, I think. I put me hand to me neck and my fingers come away bloody.

'Ya know what gives me the shits?' I says to Billy. 'I just won eight pounds at poker and I didn't even have time to buy a black bottle to drown me bloody sorrows!'

I dig into me pocket and takes out three pounds. 'Here's your stake and a bit more, Billy.' I add two sovs and ten shillings. 'And here's your share of the winnings.' I am left with just over three pounds and can buy enough gallons o' Cape brandy to keep me motherless for a week. 'Cept there ain't a grog shop left in this God-forsaken town I can go into without fear o' being arrested.

I hand him the money and am about to sit down to rest when I hears the sound of shouting coming towards us. They're after us! 'You leave me, Billy, go back to your ship! You ain't done nothing wrong. Garn, scarper, mate, 'fore it's too late!'

Billy shakes his head, 'No, Tommo, me stay.'

'Billy, piss off. Please, mate! You don't want no part o' this mess.'

'You me mate, eh, Tommo.'

'Billy, they're gunna kill me when they finds me. You too! Garn, git!'

Billy folds his hands across his chest. 'Nah, me stay. Tommo, you plurry bleedin' in ya head,' he says anxious.

It's dark and I'm facing him. Me wound is to the back of my head, hidden by my hat. How the hell can he tell I'm bleeding? It's his strange gift again. Now we hear the footsteps of them what's chasing us. I look about for some place to hide, but the rain has stopped and it's bright moonlight. There's nothing but road and flat fields on either side, not even a ditch.

I hear the call of a mopoke, followed by a plover. Me name's yelled out, shattering the night's calm. 'Tommo!' Then it hits me - the two bird calls is used among Tamihana's axe fighters to signal danger to each other. Hawk sent 'em to find me. I start to laugh. 'Bloody Hawk, he ain't never gunna let me have a drink,' I says out loud and then my head hurts even more, and I begin to sob. 'It's too hard to be a bleedin' drunk 'round here!'