Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 2

They were soon out into a wide valley and they could see the lights of some widely-scattered farms. They had pine trees around them, naturally.

The next place they came to was Springs Junction, where a road branched off to Murchison and Nelson. There were a few big buildings there, a service station and a shop, and a lot of smaller buildings – houses and holiday homes.

“Holiday homes? In the mountains?”

“Yeah. Well, near the mountains. Some people like the high country for tramping, climbing, skiing, shooting and stuff.”

“And freezing their butts off in the snow and ice. Not for me, thanks.”

“No, nor me. I’d rather be down by the beaches, it’s warmer there.”

“It is. Dunno why you like the beach, you don’t swim much and you don’t surf.”

“I swim, when it’s warm, and I’m going to surf, you’re going to teach me.”

“Oh yeah!”

They left Springs Junction and its valley and the road started climbing up again.

“Hey! I thought it was all downhill from the top of the pass?”

“Mostly downhill. We have to go up the Rahu Saddle – not as high as the pass, but we’ve got to go up and over it. Then it’s downhill.”

“Mostly.”

“Yeah, mostly. This is the last big hill though.”

“It is? How far have we got to go?”

“A hundred and something kilometers. Still too far to walk, but we’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

“The sooner the better.”

“Yep.”

“Try the radio again, Wills. We might get something now.”

They didn’t.

“Oh well. More show tunes?”

“Yep.”

There were more kilometers and kilometers of wilderness and nothingness, broken only by the occasional farm. Then, they came to Riverston, which was a fair-sized town, probably nearly as big as Kaimoana, but more concentrated in its river valley. They saw no chain stores there, apart from a Billy’s Burgers.

“Are we not stopping here to eat?”

“No, we’re not. Only an hour to go now and we’ll be there. Then we’ll stop and eat.”

“I can’t wait! Drive faster, Dills. I’m starving.”

“You always are.”

“Told you, I’m growing.”

“You’re gonna be huge!”

“Shut up, Dills.”

A couple of kilometers past Riverston, there was a big old cemetery on the side of the main road and next to the railway line. William went very quiet.

“Wills? You’re thinking about Damian, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sighed. “Bloody Damian! You think that place has got any stories like his?”

“Probably. Every town has its tragedies.”

“Our one did.”

“Yeah, it did. Love you, Wills.”

“Thanks. I love you too.”

They went down the Inangahua Valley, farms on both sides of them, through Isherwood, a tiny town, and soon into the Lower Bulls River Gorge. They were back in wilderness again – just the road and the river, with the railway line over the far side of it, and high bush-clad hills on either side.

The bush was no longer the mountain beeches, this was the dense and tangled West Coast rain-forest. There was hardly any other traffic on the road, it was very quiet for a Friday evening. At least it had stopped raining – for now.

The boys were both quiet as they went along. They were sick of travelling, they were tired and almost mesmerized by the trees flicking past in the headlights. They would both be glad when they came to the journey’s end.

It ended sooner than they expected.

At the lower end of the gorge, a road sign warned that they were approaching ‘Windy Point’, and it had a cartoon of a car being lifted sideways by a gust of wind. They weren’t kidding because that is almost exactly what happened.

Dylan came around the corner and an errant gust of wind caught the car and nearly lifted it. He took his foot off the gas and was struggling to keep the car on course and on the road, when suddenly there was a bloody great cow on the road in front of them!

A cow! In the middle of nowhere. They’d seen no farms for ages.

He jammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid it – too far and too fast on the wet, slick road, and they went right across the other side, off the road, crashed through the foliage and stopped suddenly when they nosed-down into a ditch, The engine died instantly, but the lights were still on, lighting up the bush all around them. The speakers were still singing about how Chicago was a mighty fine town.

Dylan stabbed the button and turned the noise off, and then the lights. It was dark and quiet.

“Oh fuck! Wills? Speak to me, Wills. Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “I’m all right. A box of birds. Really, I’m fine. How are you, Dills?”

“I’m good. This is a fine bloody mess I’ve gotten us into. Sorry, Wills.”

“Hey, it’s not like you planned it. Accidents happen and it could’ve been worse. Where did that cow come from anyway?”

“Dammed if I know. There’s no farms around here.”

“There’s not. Maybe it’s going to Westpoint for the weekend?”

“At the rate it took off, it’s probably there by now. Oh, Wills, what are we going to do?”

“Make love?”

“Shut up. We are not! Come on, we’d better get out of here and have a look.”

They got out of the car. William couldn’t get his door open because it was hard-up against a tree trunk, so he had to climb over and out of the driver’s door. They helped each other up and out to the side of the road.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Wills?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a bit shook up. But are you okay, Dills?”

“I’m okay. It shook me too. Oh, Wills, I need a cuddle.”

“Me too!”

They moved into a hug and stood crying into each other. That felt better, so they stayed there for a long time.

A car came around the corner from the other way. It didn’t stop. As it approached, Dylan pushed back so he could have a look at his mate.

“Wills, you’re bleeding!”

“Am I? Oh, yeah. Just a scratch. A branch got me on the way out.”

“Bloody branch!”

“Yeah, the swine!”

“I’m sorry, Wills. I’m so, so sorry. Lord! I’d die if I really hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“Dills, it’s okay. We’re both alive and walking. Stop beating yourself up. It was an accident and you couldn’t help it.”

“I didn’t help at all. A better driver might have.”

“Doubt it. So, what are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know. I suppose we’d better call for help. It’s going to take a tow-truck to get the car out of there. We couldn’t shift it.”

“Not a show. What’s your mum going to say?”

“You mean before or after she kills me?”

“Yeah, we might be walking for a while.”

“I won’t be walking anywhere. I’ll be grounded for life! Have you got your cell? Mine’s in the car, somewhere.”

“Yeah, sure I’ve got it.” William took the cell-phone out of his pocket. “Who do we call?”

“Call the AA. 027326426.”

“Alcoholics Anonymous? You been drinking, Dills?”

“No, Dork! The Automobile Association. Mum’s a member and they have tow-trucks.”

“You think? Damm. There’s no coverage here.”

“No coverage? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Look, it’s not working. There’s too many hills around us, or something.”

“Bugger! So what do we do?”

“Start walking, I suppose. How far to Westpoint?”

“Not that much. About 20 or 25k’s. Still a long way to walk.”

“Yeah, it is, on a wet night. But we’d get there. We might come into cell-phone range, someone might pick us up or, if we come to a farmhouse, we can ask to use their phone. It’s not that late. It’s only about half past eight.”

“Okay, I’ll walk. You can wait in the car if you like.”

“No, I don’t like. I’m not staying here on my own in the dark. Where you go, I go. C’mon Dills, let’s walk.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Sure I am. It’ll do us good – settle the nerves down.”

“Okay, C’mon then.”

They started walking down the dark and quiet highway. It started raining again, just to make it even more enjoyable.

“Dills?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you said we’d get wet if it rains? It’s working.”

“It is. Don’t we have fun?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes, not now. This is bloody wicked.”

“As in wicked bad?”

“Well, it’s not good. Sorry, Wills.”

“Shut up, Dills.”

Pretty soon they came to a red-painted drum mounted as a letter-box on the right-hand side of the road. A graveled driveway snaked off into the trees.

“You think there’s a house in there, Wills?”

“Could be. Let’s have a look.”

They started up the drive, around the first corner, and there was a light showing through the trees ahead of them.

“Cool. Civilization.”

“Yeah, let’s hope it’s not the wicked witch.”

“I already do!”

There was a big old house with trees growing close around it. They walked up to the door and it was a relief to get under the verandah and out of the rain.

They looked at each other in the light, and both thought that the other looked like a drowned rat.

“Oh, well,” William said. “Here goes nothing.”

He knocked on the door.