Taking the Chequered Flag (4 page)

‘Where have you been?’

‘Hannah, listen. You’ll never—’

‘Angus, I’m at the hospital.’ Angus froze. He pressed the phone back to his ear. ‘There’s been an accident,’ Hannah continued.

‘What happened?’

‘It’s Tony. He crashed his bike.’

‘Is he alright?’

‘No, not really.’

‘So what happened?’

‘There was an accident at The Moon. A couple of other riders went down as well, but they’re okay.’

‘Hannah, what about Tony?’

‘He’s unconscious and he’s broken his leg.’

‘Oh no,’ Angus groaned. He knew a lot about broken bones and being knocked out. He’d seen it first hand down at the race track a number of times; luckily it had never happened to him. ‘Should I come down? How’s E.D.?’

‘I’m worried about him as much as Tony,’ Hannah said, softly. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here. They’re going to have to operate on Tony’s leg. He’s not allowed any visitors except for his parents at the moment anyway. E.D.’s on his way home.’

‘Then I’ll head round to his place,’ Angus said. ‘Catch up with him there.’

‘Good idea.’ Hannah chewed her lip. ‘E.D.’s going to need looking after as well.’

E.D. was sitting on the front porch step when Angus arrived an hour later. Angus’ dad had dropped him off along with a couple of bags of takeaway food from the Chicken Star restaurant. Dinner was gratefully received by Mario who had been just about to head out to get them something to eat.

‘Thanks, Angus,’ Mario said, tearing open a bag of food. ‘I’ve just realised I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.’

‘No worries. It was Dad’s idea anyway.’ Angus
looked at his friend. ‘E.D., you want something?’

E.D. shook his head. ‘Nah, I’m good.’ He stared dejectedly ahead of him then suddenly got to his feet. ‘How can you both sit here talking about food and stuffing your faces when Tony’s down there in hospital?’ he blurted out.

Mario gently put down his chicken and turned to E.D.

‘Now you listen here, little brother. There’s nothing we can do now to help Tony. He’s in the best place he can be in. Ma and Dad are with him. There’s absolutely no use in us sitting around here all mopey.’

Angus shrugged. ‘Mario’s got a point. You being grumpy doesn’t help anyone.’

‘Someone did that to Tony,’ E.D. muttered, moving away from the others.

‘Don’t be daft, Emilio.’ Mario glowered at his back. ‘It was an accident.’ E.D. shook his head then moved further away. Grabbing one of the small cartons of food and a bottle of drink, Angus stood up and followed him down the driveway.

‘E.D.?’ he called. ‘You know Proctor’s Powerhouse? The old motorbike shop with the new owners?’ E.D. nodded, but didn’t say anything. Angus pressed on. ‘Yeah, well I was
down there this afternoon, having a bit of a look and these two guys on motorbikes suddenly appeared.’

‘Listen, Angus. I think I’ll head back to the hospital.’

‘Can’t I just finish my story?’ There was hurt in Angus’ voice.

‘Yeah, of course. Sorry.’ E.D. sat down on a patch of grass, and leaned back against the fence. Angus placed the food and drinks down in front of him and joined his friend.

‘Well, I’m just sort of minding my own business in this lane that runs alongside the shop, when these two guys all dressed in black appear on their motorbikes and start threatening me.’

E.D. turned to look at Angus. ‘Threatening you?’

‘Yeah. I reckon they didn’t like me hanging around there. Did you know that the guy who owns the place is also Teagan and Jack’s father?’

E.D. absently took a piece of chicken and started eating. ‘Teagan and Jack Proctor? As in the two kids who keep winning everything down at the track? If their dad owns a bike store, it sort of makes sense that they both know how to ride bikes so well.’

Angus nodded. He quickly told E.D. about the conversation he’d overheard. ‘So it doesn’t look like Teagan is allowed to race.’

‘Hey.’ E.D. sat up. ‘They ride those lime-green bikes, don’t they?’

‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Angus replied, eyeing his friend.

‘Well, Tony didn’t have his accident until that kid joined our practice run at The Moon.’ E.D. got to his feet.

‘And it was a lime-green bike that spooked King a few days ago.’ For a moment neither boy spoke. Angus pushed the cardboard box full of chicken and chips towards E.D., who appeared to have suddenly decided something.

‘Come on,’ E.D. said, jumping to his feet again, the box of food in his hand.

‘What?’ Angus had just got comfortable.

‘What I need is some action, something to do. I can’t stand all this sitting around. I hate hospitals, Angus.’

‘Yeah, well—’

‘They’re creepy, quiet, smelly—’

‘Smelly?’ They had arrived back at the front porch. The others looked up from their food.

‘Clean smelly. Sterile smelly. Bad smelly, Angus.’

‘What’s he carrying on about?’ Mario pointed a drumstick at his younger brother.

‘Mario, can you drive us into town?’ E.D. asked. Mario looked at Angus, eyebrows raised. Angus shrugged.

‘It’s getting a bit late, isn’t it?’

‘Mario, since when has the time of day ever been an issue for you?’

Mario held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Hey, take it easy. Angus, you going with him?’

‘I guess I have to,’ Angus said.

Fifteen minutes later the three boys were cruising slowly along Havelin Road.

‘Why are you going this way?’ E.D. had sparked up.

‘Just thought I’d see if anyone was around,’ Mario replied. They all turned to look at The Moon, but the track appeared deserted.

‘Hold up!’ E.D. said. ‘We’ll get out here and walk into town.’

‘That’s a 20-minute walk,’ Angus groaned. But E.D. had made up his mind.

‘Ring me if you need anything,’ Mario said quietly to Angus. ‘Emilio, Ma will want you home by nine, you hear?’

‘I hear,’ E.D. said, setting off at a brisk pace towards the small shed near the front edge of the track. Angus watched the car disappear then turned and ran after E.D.

‘E.D., I thought we were going into town to check out Proctor’s.’

‘So did I,’ E.D. replied, not breaking stride.

‘What changed your mind?’ Angus was struggling to keep up with him. Then E.D. stopped, holding up a hand. The sound of a motorbike droned in the distance.

‘That,’ E.D. said, walking in the direction of the sound. ‘I’ve seen two big guys on road bikes up at Croft’s Cement before. I’ve got a feeling they might be the same guys that you saw in the laneway by Proctor’s.’

‘If they’re the same guys, then we probably don’t want to be heading in this direction,’ Angus said, stopping suddenly. E.D. strode on. ‘I mean it, E.D. They weren’t just a couple of 16 year olds spoiling for an argument.’ E.D. made no indication that he’d even heard Angus. ‘E.D.!’ Finally E.D. stopped and turned around.

‘Don’t worry, Angus. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’ve been meaning to check out Croft’s properly for ages. And I can’t just keep
sitting around waiting for Tony to wake up. We’re going to check out the Graveyard.’

‘The Graveyard?’ Angus still wasn’t feeling comfortable about the direction they were heading in. ‘That’s what you were talking about with Tony.’

‘Yeah. It’s a course that some guys made up ages ago when Croft’s first closed.’

‘What do you mean—course?’

‘Like an obstacle course for motorbikes. It’s up at Croft’s old cement yard. The hardest bit is the old railway tunnel where they used to cart sand and stuff for the cement—there’s something about it that’s really dangerous. Only a few people have tried to do it. The first guy went around in 15 minutes about 20 years ago but they say he nearly died doing it.’

‘How do you know all this stuff?’ Angus asked, momentarily forgetting where they were going. E.D. shrugged.

‘Hey, I’ve got two older brothers who ride bikes. They hear stuff. There aren’t many people who know about it; it’s an unofficial sort of track. And dangerous. Bit of a legend, really. There was a kid from out of town, not that long ago, tried the Graveyard and fell while he was riding through the tunnel.’

‘Was he okay?’

‘Nah. Ended up in hospital for months.’

‘You serious?’

‘That’s the rumour. No one’s tried it since.’

The sound of motorbikes met them as they climbed a small rise. The trees around them thinned out and they found themselves walking over stony ground alongside a railway line, which was soon joined by two other lines.

‘Those bikes aren’t anywhere near here,’ Angus said.

E.D. didn’t hear him. He was crossing the main road and heading towards a giant opening where trucks and trains had obviously collected their loads.

‘E.D., wait up!’ Angus called, running after him. He paused beside his friend. ‘I didn’t think this place was used anymore.’

‘It’s not,’ E.D. said, moving towards an old railway truck.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Listen, about a week ago Tony and Mario had this massive argument. I didn’t catch it all, but Croft’s Cement was mentioned. I think Tony’s in trouble and I think it’s got something to do with this place. Maybe he’s seen something he shouldn’t have.’

Angus thought back to his encounter in the lane earlier on. ‘You mean, something to do with those two big blokes? You reckon something’s going on? You don’t think that’s stretching it a bit?’

E.D. shook his head impatiently. ‘I don’t know, but Tony goes and has this accident and I’m thinking maybe it wasn’t an accident.’

‘What did you hear Tony say?’ Angus asked. E.D. had climbed onto the side of the wagon and was peering in through a small opening in the top. He pulled his head out and looked gravely at Angus.

‘He said, “They’re going to kill me at Croft’s and bury me in the Graveyard”.’

Angus shuddered. He’d never seen E.D. look so serious.

‘Who’s going to kill him?’ Angus asked finally.

‘I dunno. That’s all I heard.’

‘But why didn’t you ask him? Or Mario?’

‘Because I wasn’t meant to be listening and—’ E.D. paused. He’d bumped into a pile of boxes.

‘And?’

E.D. looked up. ‘And I can work it out for myself. I can get things fixed, get things done.’ Angus heard him whistle softly.

‘What?’ Angus stood up on the iron ledge that ran the length of one side of the truck and peered in. E.D. had climbed inside and was bending over a stack of cardboard and plastic. ‘What is it?’

‘Check this out,’ E.D. said, lifting up a small metal box. ‘Someone’s left this behind—it was underneath all that rubbish.’

‘E.D., I don’t like it. Let’s get out of here.’ Angus looked behind him, but the enormous concrete space was deserted.

‘Geez, Angus,’ E.D. said, turning the object around in his hand. It was bound tightly in soft bubble wrap. ‘Maybe this is what Tony saw.’

Angus spun round, thinking he’d heard a noise. ‘I’m getting the creeps hanging around here. Why don’t we just go tell Mario or my dad or something? Get them to investigate.’

‘Hey, where’s your sense of adventure, Angus? This is cool. Relax, man.’ E.D.’s muffled voice echoed from the interior of the car. It was the first time he had spoken with any degree of enthusiasm since Angus had arrived at his house a few hours ago.

‘Let’s have a look then,’ Angus said. E.D. passed up the tiny box. ‘It looks like a GPS.’ Angus turned the package over in his hands.

‘A what?’ E.D. searched the mess of cardboard again.

‘A GPS. Global Positioning System. One of Dad’s friends was showing me his down at the race club last year. If it’s what I think it is, it reads maps and talks to you and tells you where you are.’

‘Talks to you?’ E.D. asked. ‘Yeah? Are you sure? Let me see.’ Angus passed the navigator back to him. ‘It’s been dropped or something. It’s cracked, and it’s gone rusty.’

‘So it’s probably no use. Someone’s dumped it then.’

‘Pretty expensive item to dump. You’d think they’d try to get it fixed.’

Angus shrugged. ‘Only one of us would know how to do that.’

‘Not me. Must be you, then.’

Angus shook his head. ‘Not you
or
me. I meant Miss Electronic Gadget.’

E.D. grinned. ‘Yeah. Let’s go and show it to Hannah.’

Hannah took a couple of days to work it out. She rang E.D. early on Friday.

‘And you said you found it dumped in an old railway truck?’

‘Yeah. Under some rubbish.’

There was silence as Hannah thought about that.

‘So?’ said E.D. impatiently.

‘Well, it definitely won’t work. Water’s got into it somehow and the crack went through some circuits. If I had a better set of tools I might have been able to get some connection, but what with the rust and all that I don’t think it would’ve made a lot of difference, even though I tried using Mum’s best tweezers and a soldering
iron Dad gave me for my birthday but that was meant to be for—’

‘Han,’ interrupted E.D., ‘I get that it’s broken.’

‘Oh. Right. Well, that’s not the main thing.’

E.D. sighed. ‘What is the main thing?’

‘Even if I could fix it, I couldn’t. I don’t have access to parts.
We
don’t have access to parts.’

‘Well, of course we haven’t got access—’

‘I mean that the
country
hasn’t got access to parts. This GPS isn’t from here. It’s like nothing that’s available in this country. It must’ve come from overseas.’

‘Someone might’ve brought it back from holidays.’

‘They’d be pretty unhappy that they dropped it. It would be an expensive item in any country. Not that it does anything much different from the GPS kits here—it’s just faster and more accurate. Even broken, you could still sell it for a fair bit just because of its parts.’

It was E.D.’s turn to be silent.

‘E.D.?’

‘So it’s a techo GPS from overseas that’s worth a lot even if it’s broken, but someone’s broken it and left it in an old railway truck where normally no one would find it for a million years.’

‘That’s it in a nutshell.’

Not a nutshell, E.D. thought as Hannah hung up. Just nuts.

E.D. woke early. Sunlight was just tinting the edge of the sky. He lay on his bed, staring out of the window. Besides Hannah’s phone call, the last couple of days had been quiet. It had been really hot and E.D. had stayed in the garage, fiddling with his motorbike and trying not to look at Tony’s, parked along the wall and covered with a dark blue tarp.

Yesterday, Angus had turned up and stood leaning against the work bench watching E.D. He’d stayed there for almost half an hour before he’d said something.

‘What?’ E.D. didn’t catch it the first time.

‘King is still limping. The vet says it might be weeks before I can ride him again.’

As he remembered this, E.D. rolled over in bed onto his stomach. The sadness on Angus’ face had made him angry. It had been Jack Proctor on that green bike chasing Angus; there was no doubt about that. Jack had also been at The Moon when Tony had had his accident.

Tony.

That was what had woken E.D. so early. Today
was the first day he could visit Tony since he’d been taken to hospital.

E.D. sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to visit Tony—but part of him was scared. Mario had been with their mother to the hospital and he’d said that Tony looked okay. E.D. hadn’t been convinced. Mario was too quick to turn away from his brother, rushing outside to help their dad before E.D. could ask any questions. What if Tony was more badly injured than anyone had let on?

Eventually, there were noises from the kitchen. Mrs De Lugio was making breakfast. Every Saturday, she got up early and made a huge cooked meal for everyone. It was the only day of the week that the family was together for breakfast—usually Mario was at work and Tony left early to catch the bus to get to TAFE. E.D. got up, pulled his clothes on, and went to help her.

Mrs D had the kettle on, but that was all. She was sitting at the kitchen table, her hands clasped together in front of her.

‘Mama?’ said E.D. softly, stopping at the door. ‘Are you alright?’

Mrs De Lugio looked up and E.D. thought he saw traces of tears on her cheeks. But she stood
up quickly and put her hands on her hips. ‘Now, where was I? Breakfast for the boys. I’d better get going.’

E.D. walked over to his mother and stood awkwardly by her side. ‘Are you really alright?’

Mrs De Lugio sighed. ‘I’m alright, Emilio. I was just thinking that Antonio won’t be here for breakfast.’

‘But he might be next week, Mum.’

‘Yes, that’s what the doctors say. By next week, he should be ready to come home. It’ll be alright next week.’ She looked up at E.D. and gave him a sudden smile. ‘And you are going in to see him today!’

‘Yes.’ E.D. moved away, bending down to the cupboards and taking the big frypan out so that his mother wouldn’t see his face. ‘I’m going in with Mario this morning.’

‘He’ll be glad to see you. Now that he’s feeling stronger, he wants to see everybody.’

There was the sound of loud laughter and Mario and their father came into the kitchen. It was suddenly normal again—lots of noise, lots of pushing and shoving as Mario and his dad elbowed each other around the room, and lots of delicious breakfast smells. It was only when they finally sat down at the table that Tony’s empty
seat became obvious. E.D. nearly choked on his eggs when he saw it. Mario noticed him and gave him a brotherly slap on the back. ‘Cheer up, little brother. It’ll be okay.’

He said it again on the drive to the hospital. E.D. was staring out of the window, his heart thumping in his chest. He’d only been to hospital twice; once when he’d cut himself on a piece of glass after standing on a broken bottle and then when Tony had been taken there in the ambulance. Both times it had been like stepping into another land; a white, scary place where people hurried by on their way to save lives.

‘Cheer up, little brother. It’ll be okay.’

The hospital was at the edge of town. It was a brand new building surrounded by empty paddocks, gleaming white in the sun. Mario parked under the shade of a gum tree and walked with E.D. to the entrance. ‘You go up and see him. I’m just going to buy him a magazine from the shop.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No, you go on.’ Mario pushed his brother towards the ward. ‘You might as well go,’ he said, glancing up at the little shop in the foyer that sold flowers and toothbrushes and a range of newspapers and magazines. E.D. looked as well
and saw a girl behind the counter. The girl was staring straight at Mario.

‘Oh, I get it.’ E.D. grinned at his brother. ‘Going to buy a magazine, huh?
Right.’

‘Go on. I’ll be there in a moment.’ Mario was already walking away.

E.D. followed the corridor until a sign told him he was in the right ward. He stopped at the entrance, looking around nervously, until a woman in a blue nurse’s uniform saw him. ‘Have you come to see someone?’

‘Tony De Lugio,’ said E.D. in a croaky voice. ‘He’s my brother.’

‘You mean Antonio? He’s in bed 23. Come on, I’ll take you there.’

E.D. had to hurry to keep up with the nurse and almost ran into the back of her when she stopped. She pointed to the bed in the corner. ‘There he is. Have a good visit.’

There were four beds in the room. E.D. walked slowly towards Tony’s, unsure that the person lying covered by a white sheet was really his brother. Tony never lay in bed. Even when he was at home sick, he managed to struggle down to the couch so he could talk to the family traffic as people came and went. He was the first one up in the morning and the last to bed at night.
Seeing him in bed—and in old man pyjamas—was almost too much for E.D. He stopped in the middle of the room.

But Tony had seen him.

‘Emilio? Come closer, I won’t bite.’ Tony’s voice was thick, as if he was angry.

E.D. stepped up to the bed and stood at Tony’s shoulder, staring at him. Tony’s dark hair was all over the place, as if he’d been tossing and turning. His face was pale and whiskery. ‘Hi.’ It was all E.D. could think of to say.

‘Good news, bro. I’m allowed home this week. They finally think my head’s okay.’ Tony gave a wry grin.

‘Your head was never okay,’ E.D. joked then felt ashamed. Tony had been unconscious for nearly a day—they’d taken scans of his head and kept a close eye on him but he seemed to have recovered. ‘How’s your leg?’

In answer, Tony swept back the sheet. E.D. gulped in fright. Tony’s right leg was swollen and bruised and a line of dark stitches ran down either side of his ankle. ‘It’s not too bad, actually,’ said Tony, sitting up a bit to look critically at it. ‘It’s better than it was. See where they did the operation? They had to put metal plates in my leg to hold the bones
together. At least that means I don’t have to have plaster.’

‘Can you walk?’

‘Only with crutches. I’m so slow.’ Tony groaned in frustration. ‘You’d think walking with crutches would be easy after all the stuff I’ve done.’

E.D. knew what he meant. Tony had been into skateboarding and BMX riding before motorbikes, and could do the best ollie E.D. had ever seen.

‘Hey, buddy!’ Suddenly, Mario was there, reaching across the bed to ruffle Tony’s hair. He glanced down at the exposed leg and whistled. ‘Sexy legs, bro.’

Tony grinned and flicked the sheet back over his legs.

E.D. leaned on the windowsill and watched his brothers talk. Inside, he felt strange, a bit sick. He could see that basically Tony
was
alright, but it didn’t
feel
alright. Tony shouldn’t have been hurt, he thought. Suddenly it was clear: it had been Jack Proctor’s fault that Tony had fallen. They’d been okay until he’d joined the practice at The Moon. All this—the hospital, Tony’s battered leg, E.D. feeling sick—was Jack’s fault. It was Jack’s uncle who had
sized up Angus in the laneway, and E.D. was sure those big guys had been hanging around Croft’s where Tony had been threatened. They might have put him up to causing Tony’s accident.

Then E.D. realised Tony was talking to him. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘I said, take this and look after it for me,’ Tony said, holding out a sleek black wristwatch. Mario smiled as E.D.’s face lit up.

‘No way, Tony. That’s worth heaps.’

‘Take it. Use it. It’s no good to me for the next month or so. And if I give it to Mario, he’ll probably sell it.’ Tony grinned as Mario punched him playfully on the arm. ‘But look after it or I’ll kill you.’

‘Wow, thanks.’ E.D. moved away to a chair in the corner of the room. This was no ordinary watch. It could record the temperature and your heart rate and had a sophisticated stopwatch built in as well.

‘Promise me you’ll break some sort of time record before you give it back, okay?’

E.D. nodded at his brother. ‘You bet.’ He put on the watch, noticing as he did that the face was scratched. Probably from the fall, he thought, and his anger at Jack welled up again.

They left after about an hour, Tony getting out of bed and walking—well, hopping on his crutches—with them to the door of the ward. He looked more like Tony when he was standing up, but his pyjamas were skewed and he had a brown dressing gown on—one of Dad’s, thought E.D. It just didn’t look right.

‘Hey, Mario,’ E.D. said as they were driving home. ‘Drop me off at Angus’?’

‘Sure.’ Mario made a left-hand turn and was soon pulling up in front of Brookwood Racing Stables. ‘You right to get home?’

‘Yeah, I’ll walk.’ E.D. waved to his brother and stood for a moment watching as Mario spun the wheels on some loose gravel and took off down the road.

He found Angus leaning on the gate to King’s paddock. The big chestnut was eating strands of lucerne hay out of Angus’ hand. ‘Hi.’

Angus looked up miserably. ‘E.D. I didn’t hear you turn up.’

‘Mario dropped me off. We went to see Tony.’

‘How is he?’

‘He’s…’ E.D. couldn’t describe what he was feeling. ‘He’s alright. What about King?’

In answer, Angus climbed through the gate and held the hay out for King. The horse walked
a few tentative steps towards the boy. Even to E.D., it was obvious that he was limping. ‘I thought the vet said it wouldn’t take long for him to be better.’

Angus shrugged. ‘That’s what he said. That’s not how it’s turning out.’

‘All of this is Jack Proctor’s fault,’ E.D. said angrily. ‘King and Tony—all Jack’s fault.’

‘We don’t know for sure.’ Angus walked over to his friend but E.D. had turned around. ‘E.D.?’

‘He’s going to pay, Angus.’ E.D.’s voice was harsh. ‘Jack Proctor is going to pay.’