“What do you want done with this?”
These were the first words Tom had spoken since Dave had picked him up in the forest. They were back at the house and the ‘this’ was the box of collars.
“Put them in the shed,” replied Dave. “I’ll deal with them Monday.”
“What if they explode?”
“I think it only happens when they’re moved around a lot. Anyway, the shed’s all metal. They’re not going to cause too much damage.” Then he smiled. “But you’d better carry them carefully.”
Tom didn’t smile back. He was still angry with Dave for what had happened to Buffy.
The shed was tucked away against some bushes behind the house. Inside were metal shelves holding a few tools, and a lawnmower with a can of petrol. Tom put the box on a top shelf well away from the mower and the petrol. If a battery did catch fire then the roof would get a bit hot, but that would be all.
Dave was on the phone when he got back to the house. Tom noticed that Buffy’s bed, food bowl, and water had already been removed. It was as if she had never existed.
When the call finished, Dave said, “That was your father. He’ll be late home tonight, so you need to stay here.”
“Aw, no,” moaned Tom. Every other night he’d stayed at Dave’s he’d had Buffy to make sleeping on the sofa bearable. “Do I have to?”
Dave sighed. “Yes. You know you’re not to be left by yourself.”
“When’s he coming home?”
“He said he’ll be home before I leave in the morning.”
“What time’s that?”
“I’ll be getting up around five.”
Tom almost let out another groan. That meant he’d have to get up at the same time. “What if he’s not home by then? He doesn’t always do what he says, you know.”
Dave thought about this. “Tell you what, Tom. You can have my phone for the day. I won’t be needing it, they don’t work in the forest. Then if anything goes wrong, you can ring your dad and he can sort it. You do know how to use a phone, don’t you?”
“Duh,” said Tom, pulling a face.
“Yeah, all right. Point taken.” Dave moved to the coffee table against the wall. “I’ll put it on the charger now, so it’s here if you need it. Okay?”
Tom nodded. The thought of having use of a phone for the day brightened his mood a little, but nowhere near enough to make up for the loss of Buffy.
* * *
As expected Brandon wasn’t there when Tom went home shortly after five o’clock on Sunday morning. Not that this worried Tom. He crawled into his bed determined to sleep all day if he could.
Hunger woke him around lunchtime. In the meantime Brandon had been back and gone again. He’d even left a note.
I’ll be home around five. Pizza tonight as usual?
Tom could have done with a pizza right then. Instead he went to the fridge to see what was left there. Nothing. Dave will have something.
As usual, Dave had a well-stocked fridge. Tom decided to make the next best thing to a pizza – cheese, bacon, and tomato, grilled on toast, which he ate sitting in front of Dave’s television.
After that he thought of going for the long ride he’d planned for the weekend but, somehow, he couldn’t raise the energy. His attention drifted from the television to Dave’s phone, which was likely to be much more interesting than the dumb comedy he was watching.
The first thing he noticed when the display opened was the message icon showing two unread text messages. Tom’s finger hovered over the icon for a moment, before his brain issued warning signals about prying. The finger moved to the Google Earth icon instead. Soon he was looking at a satellite image of Waitangi Forest. From it he was able to trace the route he must have taken from the Davidson house through the forest. He could even identify the steep bit where he’d seen the dead kiwis. This gave him an idea.
Getting the phone number for the local DoC office was easy, making contact with a human was not. A recorded voice told him the office was closed on a Sunday, however a message would receive attention when the office opened on Monday. Tom told the machine about the dead kiwis and their location, reading the GPS coordinates from Google Earth. As he was ending the call, the phone vibrated in his hand. Another text message had come through. This time the first part of the message appeared on the screen so he couldn’t help but read it.
Hughes, I want my gear back, you …
Is that Mike Davidson? thought Tom. Maybe the other messages are from him too. This time he did tap the message icon. Yes, all messages were from the same sender. No name showed, only the number. He couldn’t read the full messages without opening them, but he could see all three had abusive swear words.
Tom had no doubt the messages were from Mike Davidson, and that the man had not willingly handed over the tracking gear. Clearly the matter was far from over. In a strange way, that pleased Tom. If the man wanted his gear back, maybe the swap could be reversed, and Buffy could become his again.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon was spent at home playing games on Dave’s phone. Just after five o’clock he heard a vehicle moving along the track. Maybe his father was on time for a change. No, he wasn’t. When the vehicle got closer the sound was all wrong, and it continued past their place to Dave’s – it must be him who had finished for the day.
After half an hour Dave’s vehicle left again. Maybe he’s gone out for pizza too, thought Tom. Then he realised how disastrous that could be. If Mike Davidson got pizza every Sunday night, then there could be a fight right there in the shop. The same thing could happen when Tom went too. Suddenly the taste of pizza was no longer so attractive. He picked up the phone and rang Brandon.
The phone rang and rang before it was answered. Even then Brandon sounded distracted.
“Dad, Tom here.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be home soon. We’ll get pizza as usual. See ya.”
“No,” said Tom quickly. “I don’t want pizza tonight. Let’s have Indian.” Indian food was Brandon’s favourite.
“Yeah, all right. I’ll pick you up soon.”
“Why don’t you bring it home. It’ll be quicker that way.”
After some thought, Brandon agreed and the call ended. One looming crisis averted. However, there was nothing Tom could do about the other one. If Dave was going to the pizza shop, he’d already be there. Tom returned to the game.
* * *
The first to arrive at the house was Dave, and he was angry.
“Have you been home here all day?”
“No, I was over at your place for a while.”
“So it was you who made all that mess?”
“I only made lunch. It wasn’t much … I was going to go back—”
“Not much!” yelled Dave. “I’d hate to see what you thought a real mess was.”
Tom opened his mouth to speak, before thinking better of it. From past experience he knew how futile it was to argue with a tired, angry adult. Nothing good ever came from it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll go and clean up now.”
Dave calmed a little. “No, leave it. You can come over in the morning.” He scanned around the house. “Where’s Brandon.”
“Collecting dinner, I hope.”
“Have you been here by yourself all day?”
Tom nodded.
“Has he been working?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, what else would he be doing?”
Tom kept his mouth firmly shut. If he voiced his suspicions, it might make them true.
“All right,” said Dave with a sigh. “When he does come home tell him I need to see him. I’ve got to work again tomorrow. Ray’s mother has taken a turn for the worse. I’m filling in.” He paused. “You got my phone? I’d better put it on the charger. You can pick it up when you do the cleaning. No need to get up early, though.”
As soon as he had the phone, Dave checked his messages. His body stiffened as he read the first one, and remained that way as each of the others was opened and read. Before he could make comment, the sound of Brandon’s van indicated dinner had arrived.
“Good,” said Dave. “I’ll talk to him now.”
They waited in silence until Brandon breezed in.
“Ah great,” he said. “I thought you might be here, Dave. You like Indian? There’s more than enough for everyone.” He put two bulging plastic bags on the table, and turned to them with a big grin. Only then did he notice the grim faces. His jaw dropped. “What?”
“You said you’d be here to look after Tom,” said Dave.
“Yeah … well … something came up.”
“What?”
Brandon squirmed. “Um … just some business.”
“What business is more important than your son?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“So where were you?”
No answer.
“He was at the pub,” said Tom. “That’s where he always goes.”
“No!” shouted Brandon. “I was not at the pub. I don’t do that any more.”
“Then where were you?”
More squirming. “At the arcade,” he mumbled. “Playing Gods of Zuron.”
“What!” said Dave and Tom together.
Brandon tried a grin that didn’t work. “It’s a console game. There’s a group of us play online. We’re pretty good.”
“And you call that business?” said Dave with a sneer.
“Yeah. We make money out of it. As I said, we’re good.”
Dave shook his head in disbelief. “You can make money from playing computer games?”
“Yes,” replied Brandon, gaining in confidence. “You can make thousands.”
“So how much did you make today?”
“Ah, it doesn’t work quite like that. Some of the games can take days to finish. This one will last a bit longer. But we’re winning.”
Dave stared at him. “Brandon, you need to take a good look at what you’re doing, mate. You’re letting people down. You let Tom down all the time. You’re always late and he has no idea what’s going to happen from one day to the next. And today you let me down. You said you’d be home here with Tom and you weren’t. What would have happened if something had gone wrong, eh? You could have got both of us into a hell of a lot of trouble.”
“Yeah, nah,” said Brandon looking at the floor. “I know I got it wrong. It won’t happen again.’
“Well, we’ll soon find out,” said Dave. “I have to help out again tomorrow, so you’ve got Tom.”
“Um …,” began Brandon. “That’s bit awkward. I just got a call asking if I could start at first light in the morning. Boss wants us to finish picking before the storm comes through in the afternoon.”
“So when can you get back?”
Brandon shrugged. “Lunchtime?”
Dave thought about that. “All right. Tom will have my phone so he can call you if there’s an emergency. Is that okay Tom?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right.”
“And you,” said Dave, pointing a finger at Brandon. “You keep your word. Stop playing computer games and start being a father.” And with that, he left.