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Kipp The Kid Page 6


  Then they hid behind some ruins and watched as the boys went down and started digging frantically for the box. Jane and Kipp laughed when they heard the boys rejoicing with glee and watched as they lifted the box above their heads and squealed like five year olds on Christmas morning. When they left the edge of the chasm, Kipp and Jane laughed and joked all the way back home. “I’d love to see their reaction when they’re told how much those stones and fool’s gold are worth,” said Kipp.

  “What?” added Jane, “One penny? There must be some mistake sir, it’s treasure, real treasure.” She said laughing loudly. Kipp was laughing too and then pulled a face of disappointment, mimicking what the boys would look like. Jane saw it and laughed even louder. “Stop. Please, no more. I can’t take it.”

  It was like that most of the way home. But when they got closer the mood changed as Jane began to worry about her father’s reaction. At one point she stopped and hesitated to go on.

  “It’ll be ok Jane. I’ll be there. If he tries anything or makes a move towards you I’ll stand between us.”

  Jane tried to picture Kipp bravely standing between her and her large framed father. She thought he was brave saying it, but seeing it was something quite different. But they had to go on. No sense avoiding it.

  By the time they reached their properties, Jane was feeling physically ill at the thought of seeing her dad angry. Kipp had to wait with her at the fences, while she hunched over, knees bent. He didn’t think she was weak, he was only being practical. But he dare not force her to do something she was struggling with. After a while she straightened and, wiping her mouth, she climbed the fence and walked on ahead. Kipp followed. Approaching her house, there was no evidence anything was unusual. It wasn’t until they were almost at the back door that it suddenly flung open. Jane’s father stood, red faced, eyes moistened. He looked a wreck. Kipp noted there was no bottle in his hand. Suddenly Jane’s father stumbled forward and Kipp thought he might hit her. Instead, to both their surprise, he dropped to the ground and threw both his arms about her, embracing her and crying like Kipp had never seen any man cry.

  Kipp didn’t know whether to leave them to it or hang around. He secretly thought her father might be so angry that he would hit Kipp. He had no justification for feeling this way. It was only instinct. He felt uncomfortable all of the sudden, like he was the outsider looking in again. He and Jane and shared several moments together. They had formed a bond Kipp never thought possible. He was reluctant to describe it as love, but that was the only word he knew fitted. But just as he was about to make his exit and head home, Jane’s father pulled himself away and looked Jane—who was now crying—square in the eyes and said something neither of them expected.

  “I am so sorry Jane. I hurt you. I didn’t mean it but I hurt you. A father should never do that. Your mother would never have forgiven me. But can you? Please forgive me.” At this point Jane’s father broke down and Jane herself started sobbing. Then she flung her arms around him again and stammered. “I do. Of course I do. I forgive you. I love you. Don’t be sad. Please daddy, don’t be sad. Mummy wouldn’t want us to be sad.”

  “I know love. I know. I loved her. I miss her so much.”

  “I miss her too. But I love you daddy. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy.”

  They hugged and hugged and sobbed and sobbed. At one point her father looked up at Kipp and a wink was all Kipp needed to be reassured.

  “Come here my boy.”

  Kipp found himself reluctantly going over to them and Jane’s father pulled him into them with such force that the three of them fell over and started rolling around on the grass laughing. He didn’t know what to make of it all but he was happy. This was so unexpected, but he was happy, for Jane and for her father.

  Jane’s father took the two of them inside. He had cleaned up the whole place. There was no bottles of beer, no wine, just a tidy home. He had been cooking too. The whole house smelt of baking. He cut up some bread and chopped up some lettuce and onion and made some sandwiches and then made Kipp and Jane tell him all about their camping. Is this the same man I saw passed out on the lounge just two days ago, Kipp was thinking.

  Kipp, who at first was nervous and reluctant, after a few sandwiches and some orange juice, was telling Jane’s dad about the boys and how they had fooled them. Jane’s father was laughing so loudly, Kipp thought his grandparents might call round to see what all the fuss was about. Jane was laughing too, but more from joy.

  “And they bought it?” he asked loudly.

  “Hook line and sinker.” Kipp answered.

  “Good job lad. Those Jansen triplets have had it coming for years. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Kipp pulled the same face he did before. “Worthless? What do you mean, worthless,” he said in the dumbest voice he could muster. With that Jane’s dad laughed so loud he started coughing and spluttering. He got up and grabbed a handkerchief and started coughing into it. But when he pulled the handkerchief away, the sudden appearance of blood shocked Kipp. Jane saw it too and looked flushed, like her own blood had drained from her face.

  “Dad?”

  Jane’s dad stopped laughing when he saw the blood, then gave a curious, distant glance at Jane and Kipp, before passing out and collapsing to the floor.

  chapter 9: A dark and dangerous place

  Alcohol Poisoning. That’s what the doctors called it. A dreadful and unnatural way to go. Such a waste of an otherwise good life. The only consolation, Kipp thought privately at the funeral, was that at last Jane got to enjoy her father’s company and feel the warmth of a final hug and the love of a doting dad. But it also made his death that much harder for Jane to deal with.

  “No child should ever have to bury their parent,” the minister had said. And Jane had had to do it twice. Kipp wondered if Jane had the courage and the strength to deal with this and decided that she did. He had witnessed her strength when confronted with danger, even though she had moments of fragility. He had seen her at her best. Now he would see her at her worst. He would be there for her, as much as he could. But over the coming days and weeks, through no fault or device of his own. Kipp saw less and less of her. They had spoken only on a few brief occasions. He had told her, at least, that no matter what, he was here. She had only nodded, the tears so frequent these days, returning again. They had shared only the briefest of hugs.

  Then one night there was a knock at the door. Jane had been staying at a friend of the families but her Uncle and Aunty had come to settle Jane’s father’s affairs and to take over guardianship of their Niece. When Kipp saw them at the funeral, they struck him as much more reserved and cold than Jane’s father. In his young mind and heart, Kipp had tried to reason that it was all for the best. But thinking of her leaving and going to the other side of the country, was slowly and surely breaking his heart.

  So on the night Jane came to say her farewells, Kipp was not in the least prepared for the emotional torment he would have to endure. Now it was she who was the calm one. It was she who had to hold him. It was her warmth that he depended on. He felt selfish. Her loss is greater than mine, he thought.

  “It won’t be forever,” she said calmly and Kipp wondered at what point she had suddenly grown up. In the weeks since they had gone camping, she had become this other person, almost a woman. She had even had a birthday, a somber occasion without even a cake to celebrate. Now twelve, she could have passed for fourteen. She’d even grown taller, whilst Kipp had barely moved at all.

  Seeing her again one last time only reinforced how much he would miss her. She had started as a neighbor he barely knew, had shown up at camp on that first night, much to his annoyance, had become a friend, which had developed and blossomed into something much more important and lasting. And just when they looked set to share a life together, in some form or other, she was leaving. And there was not a thing he or anyone else could do about it.

  “I’ll write,” she said reassuringly.

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nbsp; “You’d better,” he answered bluntly.

  “I won’t forget you.”

  “You’d better not.”

  Strong and still stubborn as always, she thought as she sat there on the end of his bed. Then she sealed both their fates with a single, deliberate but oh so welcome kiss.

  She was supposed to leave that night. It was meant to be the last time he saw her for a while, maybe forever. There was not meant to be a knock at the door the next morning. And her Aunty and Uncle were not meant to be standing there, looking concerned, expecting answers to questions that should never have been asked. Yet there they were.

  “She left this morning. She and her Uncle had had an argument about having to leave. She went to bed angry and in the morning she had gone.”

  I know where she is, thought Kipp. But I’m not telling you right away. It was his last and only chance to rescue her from a future he knew she would hate. A future with a family she would never love and who could never love her, though they might try.

  They all looked at Kipp. Their eyes were like stinging needles, probing his mind for something he did not want to give them. But their torturous stares were too much for even the strongest of Kipps.

  “I’ll find her.” He said, finally, reluctantly.

  So he and his grandfather, together with Jane’s Uncle, wasted no time. They took provisions, rope, torches and enough food for an overnighter if necessary and then Kipp led them all the way to the campsite. He didn’t know for certain that’s where she went. But apart from her home, it was the only other place she felt a connection with. But, they did check the old house next door, just to be certain.

  At the mines, they found the campsite had been wrecked again. There was rubbish and debris everywhere and more worryingly, messages of hate scrawled across the rock walls. Messages that sent alarm bells ringing. Messages meant for Kipp and Jane. Offensive messages they were, unrepeatable to even the most street wise soul.

  “They have her,” said Kipp, feeling faint as he realized it was no doubt true.

  “Who does?” asked Jane’s Uncle, looking worried.

  “The Jansen boys,” Kipps Grandfather answered for him.

  Kipp wasted no time. He led them quickly to the shaft opening and down the rope ladder. His grandfather struggled a bit, but somehow managed. They made their way along the narrow tunnels. In the distance they heard hollering and laughter. Kipp started worrying at what the boys might do. They had a reputation for doing unspeakable things to animals and Jake was known to have a violent streak. Their father had spent time in jail for various crimes and they had been raised by a mother who could not handle them on her own.

  “This way,” said Kipp, diverting them down another tunnel. “We have to go in from another direction. They would have locked the hatch by now.” It was the long way round, but at least they would have the element of surprise.

  They had to navigate treacherous rickety wooden bridges over crevices that fell to sometimes a hundred feet. It was slow going, because Kipp’s Grumps was old. Finally they made their way to a small opening, only just big enough for Kipp and Jane’s Uncle, which meant that Kipp’s Grandfather had to stay and wait. Kipp gave him his torch and some supplies.

  “You go on Kipp. I’ll be ok. I’ve fought in wars. I’m sure I can manage in a dark mine.” With that he smiled at Kipp and patted him on his head. “Now you go and get her and don’t be afraid of some low-life half-wits from out of town.”

  Kipp hadn’t heard his grandfather talk like that in a while. It gave him encouragement. He led out in front through the small tunnel, crawling on all fours, Jane’s Uncle groaning and struggling not far behind. He wondered if he was the sort of person who did manual labor or ran a business. Given he was a skinny, awkward-looking man, Kipp decided probably the latter.

  After a little while, they came to several small openings, but had to go through a few more short tunnels before they were finally in the last opening immediately next to the chamber Kipp had taken Jane to when they retrieved the gem stones. He could hear noises next to them, muffled sounds. Laughter and more worrying, the sound of someone crying. Jane.

  “It’s them.” He said to his uncle. Then his uncle got out a gun. Seeing it shocked Kipp. He didn’t pick Jane’s Uncle to own a gun, much less know how to use one. He brushed Kipp aside and suddenly looked determined. Kipp had no choice but to follow the man in. But he was moving suddenly very quickly, like he was eager to hunt down the criminals. But when Kipp heard gun fire, he panicked and rushed the rest of the way through the tunnel, coming out the other end to find two of the boys holding Jane’s Uncle, who now wore a gash to the head. The other boy, Trent, had the gun, which he pointed right at Kipp when he emerged into the chamber. Jane was lying, tied to the table with rope. She had a cloth in her mouth that was tied around the back of her neck. She was looking at Kipp and nodding in his direction, as if to tell him something.

  “Are you hurt?” Kipp asked calmly. Jane shook her head.

  “Well, look who we have here. If it isn’t lover boy,” said Trent. The other two boys just laughed as they held Jane’s struggling Uncle. Trent came right up to Kipp, who didn’t flinch or back away. He noted the lantern hanging nearby. It was flickering like it was running out of fuel. The only other light came from the torch at his feet, that Jane’s uncle had dropped when he was ambushed. Kipp slowly reached down to pick it up.

  “What are you doing?” Demanded Trent, the gun in his hand noticeably trembling.

  “Easy there boys. I just want to check to see if Jane is hurt.”

  He took the torch with him over to Jane and looked into her eyes. If ever there was a moment one would want to be able to have telepathy, it’s now, he thought. Jane, do you know what I am about to do, he tried to tell her with his mind. As if she actually heard him, she nodded slowly.

  Kipp then turned and pointed the torch at Trent, who took an involuntary step backwards in response. Jane saw it and wondered what strange new power she was witnessing. Seizing the moment and despite the gun pointing at him, Kipp took a step forward, completely focused and very deliberate.

  “What are you doing? Don’t you see I have a gun?” Said Trent nervously.

  Kipp knew nothing for certain. All he knew was that he heard a gunshot before. That meant the gun was loaded, with at least that one bullet. What he did know about Jane’s Uncle was that he was a business man. Careful with his wallet and not given to spending more than he had to. He noted the gun looked new. He was making lots of guesses, but he had this one chance. He decided to call Trent’s bluff.

  “You know, my Grandfather gave me my first gun when I was only eight years old.”

  “So what! Not another step.”

  Kipp stepped closer.

  “He taught me a lot about guns. One of the first things I remember him telling me was that you never load a gun with more bullets than you will need.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Kipp thought he saw Jane’s Uncle shaking his head. But the boys had their arms around his mouth so Kipp couldn’t hear what he was trying to say.

  “What, do you think you’re cleverer than me, is that it boy?” said Trent sharply. “You think you can outsmart me?”

  “No, not at all. I’m just telling you a story, is all.”

  Kipp took another step closer. He now wore a determined look on his face, only partially disguised by an attempt at disinterest.

  He heard Jane behind him whimpering. Her Uncle was still trying, but failing to say something through Jake’s sleeve. There was another noise too. He recognized it as the sound one makes when you crawl through too narrow a space.

  “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to tell me the gun’s not loaded.”

  “No, now why would I do that. I’m telling a story. If I wanted to tell you the gun’s not loaded, I would simply say, the gun’s not loaded. I only want to tell you a story so that you don’t do something stupid.”