CHAPTER 38

Evie and Cook are in the kitchen the next morning when George staggers down the stairs.

“George, are yer all right? Yer look awful,” says Cook, fussing around him as she makes his breakfast.

“I didn’t sleep well.”

“I can’t function if I don’t git enough sleep. Here yer are, lad. Food will make yer feel better.”

“Thank you, Cook. Thank you for everything.” George sounds overly dramatic, and Evie notices his hands are quivering.

“I don’t know what to do. My mind is a mess, I can’t think straight!” George knocks his chair over backward and leaves the kitchen in a flurry. He returns to his room, and Cook and Evie look at each other as they hear him pacing in his room, back and forth and back and forth.

Late in the morning, Mr Milne from the farm next door arrives with a letter Paddy asked him to deliver. He also tells Cook a story about strange happenings in his dairy. The letter is for Mr George Henley, bearing the gold crest of the Royal Zoological Society.

Cook hands it to Evie. “Go orn, child. Take it up to ’im.”

Evie races upstairs. She knocks on George’s door and is about to slide it under, when the door opens.

“Come in, Evie,” says George, his voice sounding weary. He notices the letter in her hand. “Is it from my father?”

Evie nods and passes it to him.

“I’m not surprised. I–I–I knew it was coming, I know h–h–he’s angry.” George moves to the window and rips it open. He grips the windowsill as he reads the letter.

Before Evie’s very eyes, George begins to wilt, as if he’s shrinking into himself. He passes the letter to Evie and as she skims it the world turns a little darker.

24th September 1891

c/– Breamlea Post Office

South West Victoria

George,

Where on earth are you, you stupid boy?

My men in Breamlea have told me they haven’t seen high nor low of you for weeks. Where are you, George? What are you doing? My sources tell me the floodwaters have receded. Do I have to send out a search party for you and that damned rhinoceros? And where is the rotten thing? I knew I shouldn’t have sent you, a boy on a man’s mission. You’ve always been soft, you take after your mother. You’re overly sensitive and make a mess out of everything. You’re nothing but a lily-livered weakling! Don’t you realize the zoo needs its star attraction? We’re going broke, George, in case you’d forgotten? Things have gone from bad to worse here while you’re lost in the wilderness.

We’ve cleaned out the concrete bunker all ready for the rhinoceros so send me a telegram ASAP to let me know what is going on. I need you to return to Melbourne immediately – with the rhinoceros!

Yours sincerely,

Sir Douglas Henley

Director of the Royal Melbourne Zoo, Royal Park, Parkville

Evie’s heart trembles.

The concrete bunker is ready? What is he talking about? He doesn’t mean where Gerta was kept?

“I can’t think. I’ve got to get out of here.” George takes the letter back from Evie. “I’m going for a walk.” With a grim expression on his face, he stumbles down the stairs and sets off for the creek.

Evie hurries to tell Grandpa and Cook about the dreadful contents of the letter. Unknown to Evie, Simon and Mini have snuck into the house and at that very moment they follow Evie to the study.

“You run ahead, Evie, and we’ll catch up,” says Grandpa, rising from his desk. Cook’s standing at the doorway, wringing her hands when the monkeys appear alongside her.

“Good Lord . . . monkeys! Rhesus monkeys?” Grandpa gapes at Evie before he begins laughing. Simon and Mini huddle in the folds of Cook’s skirt.

“Oh, Evie. Where on earth did you find them?’ says Grandpa, his eyes full of tears from laughing.

“Come here, my little mites,” says Cook, and they leap into her arms. “Go orn, child, go bring George back ter us.” Her voice quivers. “I’ll sort things out ’ere.”

And Evie runs. She runs to the house paddock where she finds Rhino and Dominique and Bernard. She mounts Rhino at the fence and the three of them canter down the paddock. A rhinoceros, a milking cow and an old coach horse. The animals had seen George marching past moments before, so they know where to go.

As George storms off down the hill, grass whips at his legs. At the bottom, he sits down – well, collapses really – and holds his head in his hands, taking deep breaths.

When Evie has George in sight, she asks Rhino to stop. He does and so do Dominique and Bernard. They huff and they watch and they wait.

A screeching cry cuts through the air. A wedge-tailed eagle hovers in a slipstream above. Evie’s breath catches – its wingspan is at least seven feet. It’s enormous and magnificent.

George is watching it too, and when the eagle flies away he rises and walks up the path in Evie’s direction. He looks crazy-eyed and his cheeks are streaming with tears.

Evie waits for him on the side of the path. But when George lifts his head and looks at her, his eyes are unseeing and he walks straight past.

Quite suddenly, Rhino appears before George and steps into his path, blocking his way. Behind Rhino, on either side, are Dominique and Bernard. They too step forward.

George tries to sidestep Rhino, only to have him step across the other way, cutting him off. He makes to go the opposite way, but again Rhino prevents him from going past. They stand face to face, less than three feet apart.

George has never been this close to Rhino before and a look of terror washes over his face.

Evie’s heart hammers as she watches a stand-off unfold.

George’s breathing is coming in short gasps and his legs are trembling. A soft wail escapes him and his father’s letter is quivering in his hands.

Rhino pads forward and prizes the letter from him; his hot breath and warm lips nibble at his fingers. Rhino proceeds to eat the letter. He makes a show of it, tossing his head around, and the parchment crackles and crumples and turns to mush. With a shake of his head, he swallows it, and burps.

George is rigid with fear and they stare at each other. Rhino’s eyes are long-lashed and brown and warm and, for the longest moment, George and Rhino gaze into each other’s eyes.

Evie holds her breath.

“Do it.” George’s voice cracks and he drops to his knees before Rhino. “Trample me to death. Gore me with your horn, will you? I deserve it.” He laughs a sad laugh before he begins to hiccup and tears trickle down his cheeks.

Rhino curls his lip into a grin and he shuffles forward to snuffle George’s face and hair.

Placing her hand on her heart, Evie thinks of her mama and papa. She thinks of Grandpa. And Cook and Mr Duffer. And George. And his endearing ways. She thinks of the dear little monkeys. And she thinks of Rhino.

Evie experiences the strangest sensation watching George and Rhino. Something happens to George, something changes within. He gives in to Rhino. He relaxes his shoulders, his head flops forward and a deep, shuddering sigh escapes him.

Rhino plants a sloppy kiss on George’s forehead. Then, with a lumbering grace, he farts and wanders off down the paddock with Dominique and Bernard.

George opens his eyes. They’re clear and focusing on Evie.

“That’s the most remarkable moment I’ve ever had in my life. A wonderful moment, with a wonderful rhinoceros!”

George laughs and Evie laughs too. It’s a nervous laugh at first, like the relief one might feel after a brush with danger. Next thing, the two of them are truly laughing – belly laughing. Evie holds her sides and George buckles forward with his hands on his knees, hooting with laughter.

“If I ever had a sister, Evie . . . I’d wish her to be like you. Brave and kind.”

Evie blushes the color of a ripe plum. She can’t help but notice a renewed energy about George, an urgency about him that wasn’t there before. He’s glowing with everything that hurts and everything that he loves.

“Evie, I’m no longer scared,” he whispers. “I’m no longer scared of Rhino. I’m no longer scared of my father,” George yells down the hill. “I’m no longer scared!”

Evie grins at George and a fluttering of hope floats inside of her.

“I know exactly what I’m going to do now. For the first time in my life, I can see the way ahead of me. Quick, I have to get back to the house. There’s so much to do,” says George animated and enthusiastic.

Evie hurries after George. He’s walking so fast she can hardly keep up. He’s walking tall and with purpose up the hill.

At the crest, they bump into Grandpa and Cook and Mr Duffer who are waiting for them.

Grandpa’s face is solemn and serious. Cook is red in the face and twisting her apron into a knot. Mr Duffer is gripping his tartan cap. They look from one another, to Evie, then to George.

“You all right, George?” asks Grandpa.

“Charlie, Cook, Mr Duffer,” nods George. “I must take my leave at first light tomorrow. Charlie, I cannot thank you enough for having me. But it’s time for me to leave.”

Grandpa and Cook and Mr Duffer look at George and nod.

“Cook, will you help me to pack?”

“Of course, lad.”

“And Mr Duffer, will you be so kind to take me into Breamlea this afternoon? I need to get to the post office.”

Mr Duffer doffs his cap and nods.

“Are you sure about this, lad?” asks Grandpa.

“I am.” The expression on George’s face is one of calm. They take in this expression, before hurrying off to help with his departure.

George kneels before Evie, holding her shoulders.

“I have to write a telegram and a long, overdue letter to my father. All will be well, Evie,” says George. “Just give me an hour, Cook.” And he races up to the house, bounding up the stairs to his room.

Who is this person? thinks Evie. George’s transformation may have shown him the light, but Evie’s in the dark, feeling more confusion than ever about what on earth George is going to write in his letters.